Chapter 2: That's Just the Way Iris Is
As we began to spend more and more time together, we would walk to different places in the neighborhood. Maria was a little embarrassed walking with me since I am about 14 inches taller than she is. We would walk hand in hand: me in the gutter and Maria on the sidewalk. I felt a little strange at first walking in the gutter, but I would have done anything to be close to Maria.
She also didn’t want anyone at school to find out that we were going out, yet. We would be boyfriend and girlfriend. All of the neighborhood would know. But no one at school would know. I could walk near her in the hallways, but I couldn’t hold her hand. That would change eventually, but for the rest of our junior year, not even our friends knew that we were “going out.”
As time went on, we continued to get closer and closer going on dates, to dances to dinners and then to parties. I had grown up the first part of my life immersed within my father’s large family (11 brothers and sisters), but I had no idea how close Maria’s family was. I know now that most Latina families are extremely close, but at that point in my life, I knew very little about Latinos. I still used the racial slurs “spic” or “beaner” to refer to some of the Latinos at school. What a change! About 12 years later, when I was a teacher, I would be accused of being a racist since, according to the accuser, I didn’t “include white students with all of the activities.” I guess that the accuser forgot that I didn’t have any “white” students at the time.
Maria and I would go out to the movies, to dances, to eat, and other “normal” dates, but most of the time we would go to an “event” with her family. “Event” has to be the best way to describe the get-togethers because it seemed like any excuse at all was fair. We went to the normal holiday get-togethers and birthdays, but we also went to a birthday celebration for a man who had died 25 years earlier. We got together for religious holidays, American holidays, Colombian holidays, you-name-it holidays. And it was always the same people: Maria’s grandmother, aunts, uncles, cousins, mother and sisters.
The “events” were always filled with heated discussions amongst the adults and simple conversations amongst the kids, because of their ages. Unfortunately, from my perspective, I was always left out of the animated discussions since these were held in Spanish. The only ones at the parties that spoke in English were the kids. It isn’t as if the adults weren’t able to speak English. All of them were able to speak English to different degrees of fluency, and you could hold an intelligent conversation with each of them in English. They just didn’t see the reason to speak in English since everyone else with whom they were talking spoke Spanish much more fluently.
The story that I tell people now when I’m asked how I am able to speak fluent Spanish includes these “events.” I had the distinct motivation to learn what it was that the adults were talking about since talking with “snotty-nosed kids,” who were at least 10 years younger than I, was not exactly fun. Even Maria was more interested in the adult conversations. The conclusion of that story is that we still get together with the same families (not as often unfortunately, and many of the participants are no longer present), and the animated conversations amongst the “adults” is exactly the same as it was 24 years ago. I don’t mean that they are as animated as they were; I mean that the conversations are exactly the same. Now I talk with the now “snotty-nosed” adults, because I am not as interested in the “adult” conversations in which I can now understand and take part.
The family member with whom I have the best relationship and the one that has had the biggest impact on me (other than Maria) has to be my mother-in-law. There is a deceptive charm about Iris that is irresistible. She seems to be this unassuming, laid back individual, but once you get past her exterior you see that she is a dynamo. She has never-ending energy to talk to you about any subject imaginable and has very defined understanding about each and every subject. There is no gray in Iris’ conception of the world; everything is black or white.
Iris’s sense of humor is incredible. Actually, between their mother and father, I amazed that at least one of Maria and her sisters is not a professional comedian. It is not as if Iris likes to tell jokes, she normally doesn’t do that very well, but once she starts relating a story or an experience that she had, you and everyone else who is listening has side aches from the uncontrolled laughter.
There was one occasion when Iris got braces to straighten out a few teeth that had come in crooked. She had gone through the problem of regular dentist appointment for the referral to the orthodontist, multiple appointments with the orthodontists and the placement of the braces and rubber bands. On the same afternoon after the last appointment, she started having a few aches and pains. She put up with them for a little while, but finally took out the rubber bands and wires herself. The pain was too much for her. Her explanation as she threw away the last rubber band was, “Those that love me better learn to do so with crooked teeth and all.”
I remember the first Spanish that I learned, and it was Iris who taught it to me. I had been around the family enough for Iris to realize that Maria and I were pretty serious. I knew the basic Spanish that you can learn from television “adios,” “buenos dias,” etc. But I was far from being able to have an extended conversation in Spanish. We were in a park waiting for a bus when Iris asked me if I wanted to learn some Spanish. Of course I was interested! I wanted to be able to communicate better and impress Maria at the same time. Maria was a little away from us, so she had no idea what it was that her mother was teaching me.
“This is important Spanish. You need to learn: ‘Mamacita, ¡cosa rica!’”
I had no idea what in the world Iris had said. I heard something that sounded like mother, but I had no idea what it could possibly mean. “Can you say it again?” I asked.
“Mamacita, ¡cosa rica!”
Each word had a very precise intonation. The first word, “Mamacita” was in a deep tone, pronounced slow and drawn out. It was more like “mah mah SEEEEtah” spoken by a football player.
“What does that mah mah seeetah mean?” I asked, not wanting to get into trouble for saying something that I didn’t know the meaning.
“Mamacita, it means lady, like beautiful lady,” Iris explained. “But you have to pronounce it ‘mah mah SEEEtah.’” Again, the low tone and drawn out sound emphasizing the “see” portion.
“Mah mah ZEEEtah,” I managed.
“Perfecto! Now say ‘cosa rrrrrrrrrrrica.’”
In Spanish there is a difference between a single r in the middle of a word and the r at the beginning or the double r in the middle. In linguistics, I learned that it was called the trilled r. It is definitely not something that exists in English. Many English speakers have a very difficult time being able to roll their tongue to be able to pronounce it correctly. Somehow, I was able to manage a “cosa rica” but I’m sure that it sounded to Iris more like “cosa weekah,” because she started to laugh.
“No, you need to roll the r. Make it sound like a tiger growling.”
“Cosa rrrrrrrrrreeekah.”
“¡Eso! Now put that together with the mah mah SEEEEtah: Mamacita, ¡cosa rica!”
“Mah mah ZEEEtah, Cosa rrrrrrrrrreeekah.”
Again a laugh, but she answered, “Good! Now put some emphasis.”
“But what am I saying?”
“You’re saying ‘Lady, you look nice!’”
“Seriously?” I checked with one of Maria’s sisters just to make sure and then tried out my new Spanish with Maria: “Mamacita, ¡cosa rica!”
For those of you that don’t speak Spanish, Iris was literally correct in saying that what she had taught me meant “Lady, you look nice!” In going along with the rest of her personality however, what she had taught me to tell her daughter was what construction workers would yell out at a beautiful young lady walking by. Literally, “mamacita, ¡cosa rica!” especially the way that Iris taught me to say it with low tones and long and drawn out, meant more a long the lines of “Baby, you look good enough to eat!” since “cosa rica” is literally “yummy thing.” It is just another example of the humor that permeates my mother-in-law at all times. That was and how Iris is. It was also my first step in learning Spanish.
She also didn’t want anyone at school to find out that we were going out, yet. We would be boyfriend and girlfriend. All of the neighborhood would know. But no one at school would know. I could walk near her in the hallways, but I couldn’t hold her hand. That would change eventually, but for the rest of our junior year, not even our friends knew that we were “going out.”
As time went on, we continued to get closer and closer going on dates, to dances to dinners and then to parties. I had grown up the first part of my life immersed within my father’s large family (11 brothers and sisters), but I had no idea how close Maria’s family was. I know now that most Latina families are extremely close, but at that point in my life, I knew very little about Latinos. I still used the racial slurs “spic” or “beaner” to refer to some of the Latinos at school. What a change! About 12 years later, when I was a teacher, I would be accused of being a racist since, according to the accuser, I didn’t “include white students with all of the activities.” I guess that the accuser forgot that I didn’t have any “white” students at the time.
Maria and I would go out to the movies, to dances, to eat, and other “normal” dates, but most of the time we would go to an “event” with her family. “Event” has to be the best way to describe the get-togethers because it seemed like any excuse at all was fair. We went to the normal holiday get-togethers and birthdays, but we also went to a birthday celebration for a man who had died 25 years earlier. We got together for religious holidays, American holidays, Colombian holidays, you-name-it holidays. And it was always the same people: Maria’s grandmother, aunts, uncles, cousins, mother and sisters.
The “events” were always filled with heated discussions amongst the adults and simple conversations amongst the kids, because of their ages. Unfortunately, from my perspective, I was always left out of the animated discussions since these were held in Spanish. The only ones at the parties that spoke in English were the kids. It isn’t as if the adults weren’t able to speak English. All of them were able to speak English to different degrees of fluency, and you could hold an intelligent conversation with each of them in English. They just didn’t see the reason to speak in English since everyone else with whom they were talking spoke Spanish much more fluently.
The story that I tell people now when I’m asked how I am able to speak fluent Spanish includes these “events.” I had the distinct motivation to learn what it was that the adults were talking about since talking with “snotty-nosed kids,” who were at least 10 years younger than I, was not exactly fun. Even Maria was more interested in the adult conversations. The conclusion of that story is that we still get together with the same families (not as often unfortunately, and many of the participants are no longer present), and the animated conversations amongst the “adults” is exactly the same as it was 24 years ago. I don’t mean that they are as animated as they were; I mean that the conversations are exactly the same. Now I talk with the now “snotty-nosed” adults, because I am not as interested in the “adult” conversations in which I can now understand and take part.
The family member with whom I have the best relationship and the one that has had the biggest impact on me (other than Maria) has to be my mother-in-law. There is a deceptive charm about Iris that is irresistible. She seems to be this unassuming, laid back individual, but once you get past her exterior you see that she is a dynamo. She has never-ending energy to talk to you about any subject imaginable and has very defined understanding about each and every subject. There is no gray in Iris’ conception of the world; everything is black or white.
Iris’s sense of humor is incredible. Actually, between their mother and father, I amazed that at least one of Maria and her sisters is not a professional comedian. It is not as if Iris likes to tell jokes, she normally doesn’t do that very well, but once she starts relating a story or an experience that she had, you and everyone else who is listening has side aches from the uncontrolled laughter.
There was one occasion when Iris got braces to straighten out a few teeth that had come in crooked. She had gone through the problem of regular dentist appointment for the referral to the orthodontist, multiple appointments with the orthodontists and the placement of the braces and rubber bands. On the same afternoon after the last appointment, she started having a few aches and pains. She put up with them for a little while, but finally took out the rubber bands and wires herself. The pain was too much for her. Her explanation as she threw away the last rubber band was, “Those that love me better learn to do so with crooked teeth and all.”
I remember the first Spanish that I learned, and it was Iris who taught it to me. I had been around the family enough for Iris to realize that Maria and I were pretty serious. I knew the basic Spanish that you can learn from television “adios,” “buenos dias,” etc. But I was far from being able to have an extended conversation in Spanish. We were in a park waiting for a bus when Iris asked me if I wanted to learn some Spanish. Of course I was interested! I wanted to be able to communicate better and impress Maria at the same time. Maria was a little away from us, so she had no idea what it was that her mother was teaching me.
“This is important Spanish. You need to learn: ‘Mamacita, ¡cosa rica!’”
I had no idea what in the world Iris had said. I heard something that sounded like mother, but I had no idea what it could possibly mean. “Can you say it again?” I asked.
“Mamacita, ¡cosa rica!”
Each word had a very precise intonation. The first word, “Mamacita” was in a deep tone, pronounced slow and drawn out. It was more like “mah mah SEEEEtah” spoken by a football player.
“What does that mah mah seeetah mean?” I asked, not wanting to get into trouble for saying something that I didn’t know the meaning.
“Mamacita, it means lady, like beautiful lady,” Iris explained. “But you have to pronounce it ‘mah mah SEEEtah.’” Again, the low tone and drawn out sound emphasizing the “see” portion.
“Mah mah ZEEEtah,” I managed.
“Perfecto! Now say ‘cosa rrrrrrrrrrrica.’”
In Spanish there is a difference between a single r in the middle of a word and the r at the beginning or the double r in the middle. In linguistics, I learned that it was called the trilled r. It is definitely not something that exists in English. Many English speakers have a very difficult time being able to roll their tongue to be able to pronounce it correctly. Somehow, I was able to manage a “cosa rica” but I’m sure that it sounded to Iris more like “cosa weekah,” because she started to laugh.
“No, you need to roll the r. Make it sound like a tiger growling.”
“Cosa rrrrrrrrrreeekah.”
“¡Eso! Now put that together with the mah mah SEEEEtah: Mamacita, ¡cosa rica!”
“Mah mah ZEEEtah, Cosa rrrrrrrrrreeekah.”
Again a laugh, but she answered, “Good! Now put some emphasis.”
“But what am I saying?”
“You’re saying ‘Lady, you look nice!’”
“Seriously?” I checked with one of Maria’s sisters just to make sure and then tried out my new Spanish with Maria: “Mamacita, ¡cosa rica!”
For those of you that don’t speak Spanish, Iris was literally correct in saying that what she had taught me meant “Lady, you look nice!” In going along with the rest of her personality however, what she had taught me to tell her daughter was what construction workers would yell out at a beautiful young lady walking by. Literally, “mamacita, ¡cosa rica!” especially the way that Iris taught me to say it with low tones and long and drawn out, meant more a long the lines of “Baby, you look good enough to eat!” since “cosa rica” is literally “yummy thing.” It is just another example of the humor that permeates my mother-in-law at all times. That was and how Iris is. It was also my first step in learning Spanish.
posted by Richard Braun | 5:30 PM
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