Growing up Chicana after the 80s: Let Me tell You Como Va
It’s drinking chocomíl for breakfast,
los raspados in the summer,
It means eating mangos on a stick,
“Chaqui Chis” after Catechism
(y jugando en las maquinitas).
It means going to the buffet for special occasions,
drinking “Chocolate Abuelita” when it’s cold,
and don’t forget el café con leche
en la noche con el panesito on the side.
It’s learning your alphabet
(pa’ que aprendas tu espelin muy bien).
It means parents working in factories
while going to night school
con la ticher, pa’prender mas inglish
and the constant demands of “traduceme esto.”
It means being 15-years-old;
a woman too young for everything
and too old to look back.
It’s growing up with la Chilindrina to your left
And la Malinche to your right.
It’s La Virgen de Guadalupe on your nightstand,
y persínate when we get on the freeway.
It’s the comforting smell of endless candles
on the altar en el pasillo
(especially the green veladoras of San Judas)
and the 3 or 4 almaneques around the house
to make sure we remember to call relatives
It’s Vicente Fernandez on the radio,
Juan/Ana Gabriel in your dad’s tocadisco
And Maná in your CD player.
It’s growing up singing to los “Biros”
Los Bukis and Luis Miguel.
It’s Grease on DVD and Vaselina on VHS.
It means laughing at Cantiflas and Jim Carrey.
It’s life according to novelas
And love en blanco y negro, like Pedro Infante.
It means inflating la pisina till you’re out of breath,
then filling it with cold water from the green manguera
when it’s warm enough outside,
and enjoying paletas de limón con chile
y red bolis en el summer.
It means carne asada with los tíos (every weekend)
y unas frias en el refri.
It’s uncles having too much to drink
and giving your primitos money to dance
to the tunes of old rancheras and banda.
It’s my primos en el Army
And my brokenhearted tías waiting by the phone (por si
It’s going to la tienda de los Chinos
and buying three calling cards para llamar a la familia).
It means Día de las Madres el 10 de Mayo and
Mother’s Day on the second Sunday in May.
It means scraping your knees
to fight for the bolo at your primita’s baptism
and standing in line (shortest to tallest)
to get your bolsita de dulces.
It means staying up to finish los recuerdos
for your sister’s quinceañera
(which is followed by the comforting nudge of
“no te preocupes, you’re next”).
It means buying the materials in el suapmi
and stopping by the yard sales
It means an assembly line for Christmas:
preparing maza, soaking las hojas, guisando, stuffing, wrapping and tying.
Then eating them en la Noche Buena
as we wait for Santo Clos and el Niñito Dios
to come at midnight so we can open our presents.
It means road trips con el lonche en la llelera:
papitas, sanwiches, y sodas,
with five to seven people in the car
(y el portabebé in the middle)
on the way to visit los abuelos for vacation
and everyone saying “que grandota estas” once you get there.
On the way back it means carrying cartones con mecate as luggage
and paquetes de queso if they search you en la pasada.
It’s a new baby in the family every year
(y vamos a la Ross para comprarle algo bonito).
It means Dad and los tíos going to Home Depot
to buy madera for the new fence or tejaban
and living on the same street as your primos.
(con la mano, with the chancla, or the leather cinto)
prefaced by “te va ‘parecer Juan Diego cuando lleguemos a la casa”
and concluded with “te voy a pegar si sigues llorando.”
It means té de manzanilla,
mejoralitos y penicilina.
It means blessing before you go to sleep
(pa’ que no te agarre el cucuy cuando hagas mímis)
y que sueñes con los angelios.
janainaart
snowghoul
blakekathryn
baratheonpilled
kaledo-art
vaporwave
kianamaiart
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