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June 30, 2008

My sister, the do-gooder

Lori: guess what, did I tell you I signed up for a marathon?

Me: really?

Lori: yeah, the Pasadena Marathon.

Me: huh? There’s a Pasadena Marathon?

Lori: it’s new.

Me: oh. So you’re gonna run a marathon? You’ll be the first Mosqueda since tío Johnny. Cool!

Lori: yeah, I’ve been wanting to do it since I saw the pictures of tío Johnny crossing the finish line in the LA Marathon years ago. He can’t run anymore, but I can.

Me: [sad face] I know.

Lori: I started training today, we just ran a little mile. The next Saturdays we’ll run more.

Me: when is it?

Lori: in November. Will you go and cheer for me on the route?

Me: of course! I’ll make a sign saying, “Run, GP! Run!”

Lori: yay!

Me: are you doing it on your own?

Lori: no, my friend and I signed up with the American Stroke Association. I have to fundraise.

Me: you should have no problem with that, you know lots of people. I’m sure all the people you bake cookies and cakes for owe you a buck or two.

Lori: I hope.

Me: I’m proud of you. You’re such a do-gooder. First you cut off your hair for sick kids, now this.

Filed under: Familia | POSTED BY cindylu AT 1:08 pm | 4 Comments

June 13, 2008

Santo

When I was a kid, I never understood why Mamá Toni called a birthday a “día de tu santo” or “santo” for short.

No one explained to me that Mexicans often chose a name based on feast saint’s days.

Mamá Toni was named Antonia because she was born on San Antonio de Padúa’s feast day.

Feliz día de su santo, Mamá Toni.

Filed under: Familia | POSTED BY cindylu AT 10:43 pm | 4 Comments

June 2, 2008

El cantante

Earlier this evening, I listened to an NPR story about a recently-released book, Perfect Pitch: The Quest for Collegiate A Cappella Glory, following the a cappella competition circuit.

I figured the book would be a great gift for my older brother, Danny. He’s been part of Fermata Nowhere a group at Mt. San Antonio College for a few years. I’ve seen him perform a couple of times and heard him practice many times. Unfortunately, the International Championship of Collegiate A Cappella quarterfinals on March 1st conflicted with my cousin’s wedding. Danny went to the competition with the rest of the group while his family — or his number one cheerleaders — went to the wedding.

In the middle of the reception, Danny text messaged us to let us know that Fermata Nowhere placed first and would advance to the next round of competition. You can view videos of their performances at the competition here, here, here, and here.

Danny doesn’t perform any solos in those videos, which is a shame because he’s got a great voice. Luckily, I found an older Fermata Nowhere video featuring Danny singing one of the solos for Ricky Martin’s “María.” Enjoy! Maybe one day there’ll be a video of me singing something on here. Hah.

Video after the jump.
(more…)

Filed under: Familia | POSTED BY cindylu AT 11:39 pm | 1 Comment

May 29, 2008

On beauty

I know I’m beautiful.

I know this because of my parents*.

My mom is beautiful. My dad is handsome. Since I have their genes, and many of their other not-so-visible but more wonderful qualities, I think that makes me good looking.

This logic works for my siblings too. Lori, Adrian and Danny are all beautiful/handsome.

*Going back to my grandparents and looking at my extended family, I’d have more evidence to support my conclusion.

Filed under: Familia | POSTED BY cindylu AT 1:05 am | 8 Comments

May 22, 2008

Presents and presence

A conversation between me and my almost 14-year-old cousin on Saturday during our other cousin’s baby shower.

Stephen: did my mom tell you about my birthday party on the 21st?

Me: yeah.

Stephen: are you gonna come to my party?

Me: yeah, I’m pretty sure I can make it… Is there anything you want for your birthday?

Stephen: oh, you don’t need to get me anything.

Me: but it’s your birthday.

Stephen: yeah, but birthdays are not about presents, that’s what my parents taught me.

I was initially baffled by Stephen’s response. What 14 year old kid these days does not want birthday presents?

But then I remembered my 8th birthday party. My tía Patty and her husband showed up without a present. I was a brat/mocosa back then, so I went to her and asked, “what did you bring me?”

Oh man, she put me in my place.

I told tía Patty what her son said. She wasn’t surprised.

“Iván and I taught him that birthdays weren’t about presents. He knows that if people come to your birthday party, that’s enough because they’re there celebrating with you. If they want to bring you a present, that’s okay, but you shouldn’t expect a gift.”

I like Stephen and tía Patty’s attitudes.

Filed under: Familia | POSTED BY cindylu AT 11:08 pm | 11 Comments

May 13, 2008

Sonrisas

rubén “Can I hold him?” I asked Danny, my cousin.

“Yeah,” he gladly handed over Rubén, his 8 month old son. “My arm is getting tired. I think I’m even sweating.”

Rubén looked at me curiously. He looked down at the pendant hanging on a thin silver chain around my neck. With his chubby little fingers, he started pulling.

“No, papas, don’t pull that.” I got the pendant out of his tight grip and moved it out of his reach behind my neck. As I pulled my hair aside Rubén noticed my earrings and started touching them too.

“Oh no, papas,” I said. Rather than figure out just how hard an 8-month old can pull, I took out the earrings.

“He likes looking at stuff and seeing people,” Danny called out to me.

“Oh okay,” I said and walked with him around the house. His dark brown eyes darted back and forth as he checked out the paintings on the walls and family he rarely sees enjoying Mother’s Day. I took him to the sunny backyard where my uncles were seated. Rubén looked at them calmly. I tried to sit down, but he wasn’t having it, so I took him to see the fish tank in my grandparent’s room. On the way there, we passed Elsie and Danny. Rubén turned to his mom, smiled and then turned back toward me.

“He smiled and barely looked at me!” she said, surprised as we kept walking to the living room.

“You know,” Elsie began, “he doesn’t go with just anyone. And he definitely doesn’t smile with most people.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he likes you. I think you have good chemistry with kids.”

“Maybe… or it could be that I just know how to make the boys smile,” I joked.

A few minutes later, Elsie and Danny started saying their goodbyes. As he gave me my goodbye hug, he said, “now we know who to call to babysit.”

I’d be down.

There’s nothing like a well-behaved baby to help me get my baby fix.

Filed under: Familia | POSTED BY cindylu AT 6:13 pm | 4 Comments

May 11, 2008

Thanks, Mom

Dear Mom,

Happy Mother’s Day!

Thank you for being awesome, for supporting me in every endeavor, for working hard to give me a comfortable life (but not be wasteful), for teaching me to be a good person, for making me feel better, for being creative and artistic, for teaching me to never be ashamed of my roots, for standing up for me (even if I didn’t deserve it), for reading, for showing me the meaning of strength and faith, for always making such delicious food, for teaching me how to dress, and above all, for loving me unconditionally.

You’re the light in my life.

Love,

Cindy (aka your Favorite Daughter)

Filed under: Familia | POSTED BY cindylu AT 12:42 pm | 7 Comments

April 29, 2008

Backyard remedies

On Sunday morning during breakfast, I started complaining about an earache.

“Which ear?” my mom asked.

“The right one. I don’t know why it just started hurting,” I told her.

She got up from the table and went to the backyard. A minute or two later she was back with a little green object between her fingers.

“The right one?” she asked to make sure.

I nodded, and she took the small rolled up green stuff (shown above) and stuck it in my ear.

“Es ruda,” she explained. “It’ll make you feel better. Just leave it in there like that for a little while.”

“You know, this reminds me of a conversation I had with Nancy last week,” I explained to my mom. “We were talking about the backyard home remedies our parents use, like sávila (aloe). My tío Pancho would slather it all over her sunburnt arms and back when she returned from a day-long concert. You know, like you would do when we returned from the beach.”

“Oh yeah, the best is when you cool it down in the refrigerator before rubbing it on. Then it’s nice and cool.”

“I thought it was weird when I was kid. It felt all sticky,” I admitted.

“Yeah, but it helps,” my mom replied.

“I know.”

Over the years, our backyard had provided all sorts of plants for home remedies. We have sávila (aloe) ready to provide some relief from a sunburn. If I have cramps or a sore throat, my mom or grandma will pick off orange (and lemon, I think) blossoms from the trees in the backyard to make té de siete azahares. We also have ruda which my mom has used for earaches for my siblings.

By the time I was done with my breakfast of huevos rancheros, frijoles y chorizo con papa (yum!) my earache was gone.

I love my mom’s (and grandma’s) home remedies.

Filed under: Cultura, Familia | POSTED BY cindylu AT 1:53 pm | 15 Comments

April 18, 2008

Nopalitos

nopales

For a long time, I thought all Mexicans in the LA-area had nopales (cactus) in their backyard. Of course, my sample size was small. All my relatives had nopales growing in their backyard. We did too.

The nopales, spread out in a corner of the backyard against a brick wall, were a nuisance to us kids who had to be extra careful while playing. On the plus side, I’m sure they deterred a thief or two from climbing the wall and we were never burglarized.

For Mamá Toní, a native of Zacatecas where nopales grew on every cerro (hillside), nopales are meant to be eaten. They’re for ensaladas and guisos. They go excellent with tortas de camarón during Lent and are an excellent side dish with carne asada. (I won’t even get in to the tasty tunas, or cactus pears.)

Nopales are not only on our frentes, they’re in our tummies too.
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Filed under: Cultura, Familia, Comida | POSTED BY cindylu AT 7:36 am | 22 Comments

April 4, 2008

Question of the week: Immigrant parents and sympathy

My mom’s an excellent story teller. She may embellish a bit (sound familiar?), but she has a way of drawing you in, making you laugh and making you beg for more tales of her “little life.”

I thought of one of those stories last week while having $1 beers with Sean. We shared stories of immigrant parents and their peculiar way of dealing with childhood injuries. It just didn’t match up with what the sitcoms depicted.

***

Luz (my mom, far left in the photo) was 11 or 12 at the time*. The family was living in Lincoln Heights at the time. For the most part, Luz was a good kid, but she was mischievous. She also liked apricots. One afternoon, Luz was walking around the neighborhood with a friend when she noticed ripe apricots hanging from a neighbor’s tree. She asked her friend to keep an eye out for cops while she climbed up the chain link fence to be able to reach the tree. As she was about to grab an apricot, Luz’s friend called out, “hurry up, someone’s coming!” Luz lost her footing and slipped. As she slipped the point part of the fence scratched against her thigh leaving a large, bloody gash. Obviously, she was hurt.

Luz went home and found her older sister, Socorro (quite the fitting name, since it means “help”; standing, second to the left in the photo). She desperately needed Socorro’s help to clean and bandage the cut, and hide it from Mamá Toni. If Mamá Toni found out, she’d be angry that Luz had (a) gone out with a friend when she was supposed to be at home doing chores and (b) tried to steal fruit from a neighbor’s tree. The painful gash on her leg was the least of her worries.

Luckily, Socorro was studying to be a nurse and came through. She cleaned up Luz’s cut and bandaged her up.

Mamá Toni never found out.

***

Sean and I agreed that in a sitcom, the white middle class kids would never be scared to go to a parent after an injury. Sure, Bobby Brady would learn a lesson, but he didn’t have to fear nalgadas (a spanking). Sean and I wondered if our experiences were similar because we were the children of immigrants.

That got us to this week’s question.

La Pregunta: Are immigrant parent’s less sympathetic (or harsher) than US born parents?

*I’ve heard the story a dozen times, but I’m sure I have some of the core details wrong. Sorry, mom! I know for sure apricots and a fence were involved.

Filed under: Familia, Preguntas | POSTED BY cindylu AT 2:17 pm | 13 Comments

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