Self-Identity in Dreaming in Cuban and Bodega Dreams

Pilar has a dream of returning to Cuba, to her grandmother Celia.  She identifies most closely with her Grandmother – she is tied to her in a unique way, sharing memories, thoughts, layers of life.  She believes she could be free in Cuba in the company of Celia – free to grow into the best of herself. 

Pilar is an artist.  Her identity lies with her artistic ways – her paintings, her thought processes, and her dreams.  Her instinct to follow her heart, her calling – to try and make it back to Cuba (pg 25) – is largely due to who she is as an artist.  When she paints the statue of liberty for her Mom, she expresses her fears that her Mom won’t approve of her sort of abstract and meaningful additions to her piece rather than a realistic and simple rendering of the statue (pg 141).  But this does not stop her from following her gut feelings and artistic instincts.  She goes ahead, despite what her mother may think, and paints what she feels she must.  

The people in her life in New York, her mother in particular, hold her back from her dreams, which are a large part of her identity.  Her father, however, supports her dream of becoming a painter.  He helped create a studio for her to work in and talked her mother into letting her attend art school, despite her mother’s attempts to sabotage her dream (pg. 25-26).  But overall Pilar feels trapped by her life in America rather than inspired, unable to freely make her own choices and be the guide to her own life path.  In this case a disconnect with a sense of home helps Pilar figure out who she is, helps connect her to Cuba. 

            Though Pilar’s dream to become a famous painter has not yet come true, this artist part of her will continue to affect the rest of her life in a profound way – it will continue to shape her  personal identity.  Her Cuban roots call her back home – this affects her art, her soul, her voice and her dreams – it affects her personal identity, who she is to the core.

            In Bodega Dreams, Chino grows up in Spanish Harlem, goes to school and gains his reputation – part of his identity – by fighting, defending himself, his friends, and picking and choosing his fights (pg 4).  He earns his name in this way, and naming, as we explored at the beginning of the semester, plays into personal identity is really interesting ways.  The way that others perceive you, what others call you, is important in your choices, actions, and personal journey that forms who you are. 

            Chino’s friend Sapo plays a big role in who he is.  Chino makes the decision to not only stay in touch with Sapo but continue to be his Pana, his friend, and continue to show he has his back.  This is emphasized over and over throughout the book.  When Chino interacts with Sapo, he takes on the role of Pana.  He doesn’t switch his identity, but this part of him surfaces in an intriguing way when he interacts with Sapo.  He is pressured to do certain things, go certain places, and fulfill certain roles (for example, going to meet Bodega, fulfilling the role of pana, and hide drugs for Sapo).  This all contributes to his personal identity – our choices and actions show largely who we are. 

            Family also plays a role in Chino’s self–identity.  He identifies as a husband to Blanca, and though he isn’t always perfect, he is devoted to Blanca and loves her very much.  When they got married they became a part of one another and therefore made sacrifices (Blanca had to accept Chino’s “ghetto side” and give up playing the tambourine in church, and Chino had to give up some of his street side, and embrace Blanca’s church-going ways as part of who she is).  His relationship with Blanca is intimate and personal and is a factor in who Chino is as a person.

           

Fearing Our Past

Some people run away from their past and some choose to face it, but regardless, our past is part of our present, part of who we are as individuals.  The complex character of Lourdes interests me in Dreaming in Cuban.  In America she is a confident Latino woman who owns a bakery, but in Cuba many of the insecurities of her past come to haunt her.  What is it about memories that can consume and overwhelm us?

Part of Lourdes' past is the reality and horror of her rape.  In the beginning section of the novel we are told the story of her rape, and at the end of the novel we learn that much of her pain is lodged in the fear that what happened to her doesn't matter, that no one cares.  

Pg. 227.  What she fears most is this:  that her rape, her baby's death were absorbed quietly by the earth, that they are ultimately no more meaningful than falling leaves on an autumn day.  She hungers for a violence of nature, terrible and permanent, to record the evil.  Nothing less would satisfy her.  

After finishing the book, this passage stuck with me.  Lourdes' fear is completely reasonable.  It is a scary thought to consider all the pain that goes unnoticed, all the deaths that are not grieved for, and the lives that are not properly celebrated.  Reading this passage made me think about all the people I pass by in a given day whose pain I do not know, who may be dealing with inner struggles and turmoil that is tearing them apart.

It is astounding to consider the burdens that each of us carry, and sobering to think about all who think they must carry their burdens alone.  Our past is part of who we are, but the beautiful thing is that the people in our lives can heal us and help us take on our burdens.  In the end I think returning to Cuba may have helped Lourdes heal some of the wounds of her past.  Though she still wanted to return to America, she gained a certain strength from revisiting the places that haunt her.    

Thoughts on Bodega Dreams

I really enjoyed reading Bodega Dreams because it was interesting to learn about Spanish Harlem.  I have relatives that used to live in Manhattan (it turns out my Aunt lived fairly close to Spanish Harlem) and had visited them more than a few times, yet there is much about the city that takes more time to be discovered, like the relationships between cultural groups.  It was interesting to read about the history involving the Italians which later turned into Spanish Harlem.

There were a few parts or aspects of the novel that struck me in particular.  One was the relationship between Sapo and Chino.  I don't think I could ever completely understand the closeness of their  relationship.  This closeness, I think, had to do with having each other's backs, with fighting, with covering for one another, for being each other's family almost.  Chino said it over and over again: I love Sapo because he loves himself.

This phrase intrigued me, and I continued thinking about it throughout the book.  When I first read the phrase I thought it was kind of strange.  I understood that you can admire someone for their confidence, or "self-love," perhaps, but loving someone only because they love themselves was a new idea for me.  Their history ties Chino and Sapo together, but other than that, wouldn't it just be easier for Chino to forget about Sapo?  He seemed to only create trouble in Chino's life - Blanca doesn't like Sapo, Chino has to hide Sapo's drugs...etc.  Sapo only seemed to make Chino's goals harder to reach, yet Chino never refuses him if he has a request.

This give and take was sort of a theme throughout the novel and seemed to be integral to the nature of the hispanic community in Spanish Harlem.  It was a rule.  One understood one's duties or obligations to another.  They knew if they had a debt to fulfill.

In community it is important to have a flow of give and take, but what was described in Bodega Dreams was almost of a different nature.  Reading the book made me think about my own life.  What are my unspoken obligations to my friends and to my community?

In My Mirror

In my mirror I see white skin, my father’s skin instead of my mother’s freckles.  I am reminded of my mother’s melanoma, and feel lucky to be cancer free.  I wonder, due to this past, if that tragedy is part of my future.  Brown hair, my whole family has brown hair.  My siblings and I used to be blonde when we lived in the West.  Blonde streaks from the rays of the sun, kissing the tops of our heads.  The sun.  The sun is a part of me.  As I survive Indiana winters I dream of the desert sun.  I know the desert, not as a devil’s highway, but as a thing of beauty.  The desert is also part of me. 

           

Tucson, Arizona

I look at my complexion and see Swiss-German roots.  Nicholas Stoltzfus began the Stoltzfus family history in the United States.  I think about all the places I’m tied to, some by blood, some by history, some by experience as places I have visited and come to love.  Africa, beautiful Tanzania rich in history and culture.  Costa Rica with its gorgeous mountains, jungles and oceans, and the colors visible in the city, people, and culture.  Italy, with its gorgeous architecture.  My Aunt, married there.  Rich in history.  Rich in Love.  

            

In my mirror I see what could be, not only what is or what was.  I'm told it is wise to pay equal attention the past, present and future.  Dreaming is part of Me - The Me that is my past, present, and future.  I Dream of places I’ll go and people I’ll see.  The colors of the world inspire me to learn, to travel, to hear peoples stories.


Most of all I just want to listen to music of peoples lives.  The lives of others melt and mold into me, for I am Me only because of those in my life.  

Themes that act as Windows and Mirrors

Lidia Torres is a Puerto Rican poet.  She was born in New York City, and graduated from Hunter College as well as New York University.  Her poem, A Weakness for Boleros (also the name of her poetry collection) was selected by the Poetry Society of America for its program called Poetry in Motion.  Torres received a poetry fellowship from the New York Foundation for the Arts.  She is still living in New York City and is working on a translation project.  

Image from the Poetry Foundation

An American audience can especially appreciate poems written by Lidia Torres because they act effectively as both a window into Latino culture and a mirror in the lives of individuals.  Torres’ poetic style is unique and fresh.  Her voice coaxes emotion out of the reader and helps them see the world in a new way. 

Many different life themes and wonderings shine through in Torres’ poetry.  Among them are family, music, death, the body, spirituality, fruits, longings, sexuality and passion.  These themes are universal, yet Torres draws from her own life, her own latina experience, making her poetry act as a window into an unfamiliar culture. 

Through her writing, an American audience learns about the deep connection of family and taking care of one’s parents when they’re old.  In Latin American it is known by everyone that you are responsible for you’re children when they’re young – just as your parents cared for you – and are allowed the honor and privilege of taking care of your parents when they are old – as you expect your children to care for you as you age. 

The importance of family and the deep connection that families in Latin America share is apparent in many of her poems, including Three Keys, Visiting the Dead, and Listening For Her.  In Listening For Her, Torres describes how she cares for her mother as she struggles with a brain disease.  I clean my mother’s body abandoned long ago by its brain cells.  She allows me to move her limbs, unfold her skin, yielding like an infant…I listen and listen, gazing into the mirror with her.  In Three Keys she writes about losing three brothers, and the power of ghosts and memories.  These keys cannot lock the bare rooms with quiet ghosts of three brothers.  The last brother answers.  Then we are all in the same dream, alive and dead.

Image from Blog UMY Community

Music is also a reoccurring theme in her work.  The beat and rhythm of the music inspires her, and in her poems she uses musical references to capture the movement of life patterns and rhythms.  Her musical references are usually specific to Latin America, but when translated they have to do with the particular rhythmic patterns in certain kinds of music. 

One example of her integration of music into her work is from Three Keys:  My brother answers, tapping the congo skin…Another brother taps the Clave’s beat.  The last brother answers by barely scraping a Guiro.  From a Weakness for Boleros:  The Bolero was composed for you and me.  That is the first line of that poem.  It’s as if she’s saying “the dance of life was composed for you and me.”  Our dance.  Our life. 

The deep connection of family, the rhythms and beats of life, mothers and brothers, dreams and ghosts; Torres uses her unique style and voice to tell of Latin American culture, but many of her themes are universal.  An American audience, an audience that is not Latino, can best appreciate Torres’ poetry because it acts both as a window into Latin American culture as well as a mirror that reflects universal life themes. 

            

            

Gaining Perspective

Of the three books we read in our unit on Mexican American Literature, The Devil's Highway had the most impact on me as I read about the journey of 20 some illegal immigrants - real names, real people, real places, real tragedy.  Urrea effectively captures the different elements and dangers of illegal immigration and the struggles that immigrants face as they cross the border.

Urrea, born in Tijuana, Mexico, worked directly with border issues for a lot of his early years.  He moved to the states when he was young, his mother American, his father Mexican.  As he worked with relief workers on the border, he had day to day interaction with homeless peoples who lived in garbage dumps, children in orphanages, drug addicts, and gangsters.  When he was hired to teach Expository Writing at Harvard he began formulating his book from notes he had taken from his years of experience at the border, and was empowered to speak on behalf of the voiceless through his writing.  Urrea calls the border his Home, and being from the border, he felt he could effectively portray some of the most challenging border issues.  I think Urrea's background really helped him write this book well, and his passion for border issues was very apparent in the voice of the book.  Reading a bit about his history was helpful to me.  Here is a link if anyone would like to read a brief biography.  There is a youtube video about how Urrea's background affected his writing on the site as well.  http://sitemaker.umich.edu/luisalbertourrea/urrea_biography

The Devil's Highway was an incredibly sad and sobering book.  There are two passages of the book that stuck with me a little more strongly than others.  One is on page 166 where Urrea describes Reymundo Jr. dying in his father's arms.  The sorrow that Reymundo Sr. felt must have been unbearable.  I cannot imagine having a loved one die in my arms.  The scene ends with Reymundo throwing himself into the sun, giving himself up to the desert, wanting to die and be with his son.  

The other passage that had a great impact on me was Nahum's testimony on page 167.  It does indeed read like modern poetry.  The imagery he uses to describe their circumstances is both symbolic and literal.  He kept saying We all died, We all died.  It seems as though spirits, souls, and men all died out there, sucked into the vastness of the desert.  

One thing that was difficult for me throughout this book is the portrayal of the Sonoran Desert.  This is the place in which I grew up and the place I call home to this day.  The Sonoran Desert is beautiful - it is the only desert in the world in which Saguaros grow.  It is home to an incredible number of unique animals that evolved to adapt to a desert environment and that thrive there.  (If you ever go to Tucson, visit the Sonoran Desert Museum).  

But I have never experienced the desert in the way that immigrants crossing the border have had to experience it.  The book describes the desert as a human's worst enemy, as a land separate from people instead of a land that people call home or a land that people can love and internalize.  It was sad for me to read such things about a place I love, but it was good for me to have this reality check.  And after reading this book I realized how different my perspective of the desert is from others.  One reality is that I've always had the luxury of water, and I still take that for granted to this day.  I know I would feel differently about the desert if I were lost and wandering in it, helpless to find my way out.

The Push and Pull of Family

As we continue exploring border issues, I’m becoming more and more intrigued with the theme of self-identity amidst cultural diversity, areas of work, family (or lack of family), peers, and history of land and people.  In the Guardians, Gabo was one of the main characters that struggled with self-identity.  On this journey he crosses many borders through his interaction with various people - friends, mentors, family, peers, gang members. 

            Along with trying to find his father, Gabo is on a journey of self-identity.  As he attempts to put the pieces of his life together – a life without his father, mother or sister - he is also quietly trying to figure out who he is apart from his family, in a world where his guardian is his Aunt Regina and his best friend is a gang member. 

            Life doesn’t make sense. 

Gabo senses this gap between what is and what ought to be in his life.  He is very hard on himself.  He seeks justice, he wants to be a good person and do what’s right, but he is torn between living his life for the church and following his instincts to locate his father and help his friends as they struggle, stuck in gang activity that seems to thrive wherever there are borders. 

One theme that plays a large role in self-identity, and that is a particularly strong theme in each of the books we’ve read, is family.  The lack of immediate family in Gabo’s life is difficult for him.  In the beginning of the book he speaks of his father’s soul as if it is haunting Gabo himself, as well as the world he knows.  Gabo’s tie to his father leaves him unsettled, unable to proceed with his life in the same way.  He cannot seek himself, the callings of his own soul, until he finds out what happened to his father.  Family pushes and pulls us, guides our decisions, and shapes us to be the people we are today. 

 I challenge each person to consider what their family means to them, how family has shaped their core values and actions, and what that means for how you will conduct yourself in the broader scheme of a life with borders.