No se, quizás en diciembre.

Part II
A) Grandma Aunt
B) Candid introductions
C) Petty inflections
D) Subtitle Unnecessary

It was an unusual Sabbath. Ani and I sat by ourselves on the couch until the rest of the friendly relatives meandered into the beautiful home. Apparently there was such a place as Little Nicaragua.

Pops had left us to fend for ourselves while he caught up with the cousins about the political state of his homeland. It being our second/third time meeting most of the relatives, we whispered to ourselves about their home decor and music. Cumbia played from a large stereo under the TV which reminded me a scene from a Latino home in 2007 I had daydreamed of. Ani and I thought it was cute. So much so, she took out her Shazam app and scanned. “Pero girl…! 🥴 that’s a cringy song.” I told her. It was one of of those Christian songs in unusual genres. Unusual to us- Caribbean Latinos didn’t listen to cumbia, rancheros, or the customary Central American sounds. I’m addition, my listening habits had shifted a bit and I was listening to inspirational music less. I’m in an odd place.

As Pops ran wild, we kept giggling and commenting on our surroundings. The home was beautiful. The backyard even more culturally dazzling. They grew papayas, coconuts, and other “exotic” fruits. We learned that lower Miami is basically the Caribbean and people I thought were cold were as warm as possible.

Next to us a grandma aunt lady shared stories in a sweet, feeble, and soothing voice. I’m her 80’s she held excellent memory and I wished I’d met her before. She took care of Papa when he lived down there and helped him acclimate to the states. While he cracked jokes in the kitchen, she noticed familiarity in his voice and compared it to “Marquitos”, abuelo Marcos. “Cuando lo oigo hablar es como si escuchara a Marquitos” I couldn’t confirm or deny.

They were good at making us feel at home. But I couldn’t help but feel as if one of the aunts had petty feelings towards us for not relating enough. I had those towards Pops for subconsciously making us feel as outsiders there.

We couldn’t sing along in the karaoke because we don’t know Selena, Banda, or ballads. Ani and I now have people to visit in Miami but how do I get over the antsyness and nervousness of transitioning from strangers to close family members. How much time will this take?

Gallo Pinto means painted rooster. Kinda. Also the cultural rice thing.
I cut up the papaya slices Tia gave me and plopped them onto the boring vanilla for a little KICK! BOOM! 👌🏽
This is ageless Ani. Yellow man is pops. On the counter were Nicaraguan enchiladas which resembled Mexican tostadas. We weren’t in unsafe hands.

He said, I don’t know… maybe in December. The invitation wasn’t extended. He’s usually there in December.

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