The Making of Cheíto.

There are times, usually after a posting featuring my friend from Hialeah, when I get emails and I am asked point blank … “Where did you meet Cheíto?” … “Why do you make fun of his accent?” … “He seems such a nice guy.” So, I thought it was time to present my friend Cheíto to you. (By the way, Cheo is a nickname which goes with the proper name “José” (Joseph) a fairly common name in Latin America and Cheíto is an affectionate diminutive)

The first of those questions is one I have asked myself many a time, and the one I will try to answer somewhere in this posting. As for his accent? Well, that is the way Cheíto speaks. Anything else would simply not be him. It’s not making fun; it’s his reality. I also have a deep respect for Cheíto and many others like him (and her, for he is both), who always manage to fight adversity while being a good provider and family man.  And, yes … he is a very nice guy indeed.

So, when did I meet Cheíto? I would have to go back some 12 years, when I went to stay with my brother for a while at the condo he then rented in Hialeah. Up to that point, this city had simply been a map reference, and the source of many empty South Beach jokes. I went by it on the Palmetto but almost never into it. If Miami traffic was crazy, Hialeah’s went beyond description. Sometimes a quick two block entry to get gas, since it was cheaper than most anywhere else in Miami. This was then, I don’t know now.

Going to stay at my brother’s was a temporary refuge; a get-away-from-other-issues-and-think time. And I have to say that it was also a little bit like going to a foreign country. I was thrown back in time, space and place. It was like jumping headfirst into every popular Caribbean neighborhood I had ever known. Including my own childhood neighborhood. No matter the island or country in question.

The noise, constant and full surround. Tropical music playing for all to hear (no, it’s not enough to hear it within your home, it has to be enjoyed without as well!), people speaking loudly to be heard above the din, hands flying and gesticulating (yes, we do speak with our hands in full motion), the cooking smells of my childhood coming in from all directions, the colors -on and off the people- and, perhaps the most forgotten calling card… the laughter which comes from people who are managing to be happy even though they may not have all the goodies some others think of as basic “needs”.  What others may see as chaos, to us is simply … us.

Yes, I travelled to every country in Latin America (and several outside) from 1980 to the end of the 90’s, and even lived in two of them. But this was as an adult and most of my time was taken by business issues and requirements. So, I can’t say I was totally devoid of “Latinity” (is that a word? …if not, it is now!) during my US life. However, coming into Hialeah and at a time of personal turmoil, made me more susceptible to what was a total throwback to another time when, as a child, I simply enjoyed what was then a normal environment but which, after many years of US culture immersion, found somewhat confusing. Even unnerving. For a short while.

So, who is Cheíto? I met him in Hialeah. He was my brother’s neighbor, the guy or woman at the grocery store, at the gas station, any one of many friends who I met and who welcomed me like a long-lost prodigal child. The guy walking down the street, the mechanic or the plumber… He or she came from the Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, Cuba, Panamá, Nicaragua and from most any country that touched, or was surrounded by, the Caribbean Sea.

All of us bound by that magical musical sound the water makes when it breaks on the rocks just before washing on the shore, the warm breeze it brings with it and the salt that permeates the air; by the carnival parades, the music, the food, the simple and pure enjoyment of life. The basic gratitude that comes from being alive, from being able to work and to enjoy your family and friends. And the simple and very straightforward street sense (not nonsense) that comes from all the above.

Cheíto is a compendium. He represents all of these good people who came here to work and find what their own country could not -or would not- offer, who try hard to adapt to this culture, who can’t (or don’t want to) fully get rid of the accent and lifestyle that gives them identity. He is every one of those who have managed to build what was a dormant country town “north of Miami” and the butt of many jokes, into the 4^th largest city in Florida, and have done this while maintaining that presence which makes all of them who they are. And which gives them comfort and support. The same offered comfort and support that was there for me when life brought me into their midst.

So, now you know who Cheíto is; where he hails from. He (or she) is my friend and wants to be yours too. A simple, basic and solid person who takes the hits life sometimes hands out, but who refuses to fold or give in. He (and she) goes on. And he is not such a bad example to follow.

Be Well … Be Back!!!

Final Notes:

·       Pray for those who are fighting an illness which may take them away from their loved ones… Every request is heard, and counts!!   

·       Any comments please send to rjalcazar@gmail.com

Are your Rights my Wrongs

It has been a long while since my friend Cheito showed his smiling face. I have to say he was missed but, with all that has been going on, the call to him (knowing this call would be a long one…) kept being put away to later…

I guess he guessed this much, for the first thing he said when I picked up the phone (yes, I saw the ID, but couldn’t bring myself to ignore him) was:

-“Yo man, juat’s goin’on?”… “Yu don’t like me no more, or juat?”

If you don’t know Cheíto, he’s a simple, solid guy. Raised in the streets of Cuba and then in their counterparts of Hialeah, where he, Cachita (his wife) and Felicita (his now 17 year old princess) live. When they first came to the US via a small boat, they managed to get into an “effishens” (efficiency apartment) built into the garage of a relative’s house. These “apartments” are usually built without the blessing of the city’s building authority or its codes, and outside the vigilance of any of its inspectors. Their quality wavers… from so-so to outright bad. But they offer a relatively cheap shelter in time of need. Eventually, they “made it” as a working family and bought a small condo apt, overlooking the Hialeah Canal … For the time, place and circumstances, not bad.

I knew he was not happy -and very probably mad- about the long-time silence so, right away I played dirty on him and hit him where it counts…

- “Hey Cheíto… how’s our beautiful princess?” … “How’s she doing in school?”

I could hear the change in his mood and the smile come to his face. He took a little while to come back and he sounded a little worried when he spoke.

- “Man, I’n worried Rafa” “Yu knoe mi Princesa is in hi-school, an’ reddy to go to College in 2 yiars”

- “I think that’s great!!” – “What’s your worry?”, I asked.

- “Well… I’n not shur what they are tiichin’ them.”  -“Yu knoe how we talk when we are eatin’” …  “it’s our time together.”  He said.

Trying to make him feel better, I said to him – “Well, it’s good you take the time to talk as a family”.

Then he said -“Rafa, yu knoe I’n just a working guy and not a school man” … -“Sum o’da thins she says I don’t knoe nuthin’ about” … Before I had a chance to ask, he continued… -“yesterday, she ask me if I knoe why she has to conpete in runnin’ against boys at her school”. He continued… -“When I din’t annser, she tol’ me this is sonbody who was a boy an’ now says she’sa girl…” – “I’n confused Rafa.” –“Back hom’ a boy’s a boy an’ a girl is a girl, like my little princess”… - “not the saim here?”

I didn’t say anything to Cheíto, trying to rake my brains to come up with something that might sound somewhat logical…  It is very difficult to explain this whole shift in mores and culture (I will not say for better or worse…) to someone who still truly believes that out-of-wedlock children will be marked by society and that girls should get to their wedding night as virgins.

- “Well, my friend,” I said, trying to offer a degree of solace, “for most people in our country boys are still boys and girls are still girls”. “But” I continued, “there are groups who say that it is the right of everyone, including minors, to choose if they want to be considered a man or a woman, and that others have to accept their decision”.

- “Juat you mean?” –“Yu mean if a boy now sais  he a she, dat’s OK?” –“An’ if now-she guants to compete agains’ my princesa, dat’s OK too?” – “Dat no fair man … she still got a he-body and will win every taim.”  … - “Juats the use my girl  practicin’ an’ practicin’?” … - “He-she always be stronger’n faster.”

-“Well”, I said, -“they have their rights and we have to respect those rights, according to our constitution”  and to those who use it as a reference whenever it is convenient and who would like to dismantle it whenever it’s not convenient to their wants, I thought to myself.

-“Yu knoe … “ he said after a little while … -“I guess it OK about rights an’all dat.” But, he continued, - “what’bout the rights of my princesa?” “To a fair competition?” … “To her own rights doin’ what she work so hard to do again’ other girls who work so hard too?” … - “She ha’ no rights?”  …  “Where do the other people rights stop an’ my princesa’s rights start?”

I could add nothing, so I just said – “I agree with you 100% my friend.”

Once again, Cheíto’s simple, but far from shallow, street philosophy makes total sense and I really have nothing to say to him or to his cry for help in understanding. What can I say? Perhaps all these folks who spout, yell and scream about “their” rights, should take into consideration the rights of others, who don’t agree with them. Just because there is disagreement doesn’t mean they lose their rights.  

And I fully agree with my friend Cheíto. Your (or anyone’s) rights end where mine begin.

Be Well … Be Back!!!

Final Notes:

·       Pray for those who are fighting an illness which may take them away from their loved ones… Every request is heard, and counts!!

·       Any comments please send to rjalcazar@gmail.com