Issue 43: Mangos

I have been waiting a year to write this letter to you all. 

So many things had to come together and somehow the dots all connected when I was listening to Bad Bunny DTMF over and over to put my baby to sleep. I caught myself dancing by myself, integrating and releasing trauma, and then I caught myself slicing up mangos for my daughter, reclaiming joy. 

Disfrutando de toda' esas cosas que extrañan los que se van.

Reminded me of home. 

Last March my daughter was picking the mangos that fell in our yard from the neighbor’s mango tree. It was the first thing she did when she woke up. I would wake up much earlier and drink my coffee while I waited for her to grab our treasure and then act surprised by how many she had gathered, even though I had already counted our abundance, and then tell her to rush in before the neighbors saw us. 

This tree was the sister to a mango tree that once lived in our yard. Mango rosa. But I took it down years ago pre-emptively planning for a future redesign that came after many years of dreaming. I wish she was still there, now, I would have designed around her. 

Pero queriendo volver a la última vez que a los ojos te miré

Last year was the first year that we enjoyed our updated casita, the bones still present, but with all the conveniences of modern life and the Nicaraguan version of Costco; Pricemart.

My kids will know a different Nicaragua than the one I knew, and even more so than the one my mother knew and then what my grandmother knew etc etc. 

Debí tirar más fotos de cuando te tuve.

For some reason my eyes tear up because they will still know home. 

Ojalá que los míos nunca se muden

As I am dripping mango I am thinking about my Quetzalli Life and how it has come true; I have made it so. My babies long for home too - the place of their ancestors. A second generation that remains rooted.

I am so grateful that I paused and turned on that song on repeat. I have three pending trainings that I signed up for and the recordings are sitting in my inbox. I could be forcing myself to watch, pushing through, in the urgency but instead I stopped knowing that this is not what I work so hard for. Instead I cuddled, put my baby to bed, and fed myself some mangos… then I decided to write to you. 

Estamos para las cosas que valgan la pena. 

In October, my dear Renée brought together a circle of Nicaraguan first generation daughters. It was the most vulnerable experience to get on a call and see your face mirrored in such beauty and strength. I said outloud “oh my gosh we look so much alike” and someone confirmed that we come from the same ancestors. 

Of course, home. 

Seguimos aquí, puñeta

To be able to connect across the diaspora. To be able to see and be seen. To deepen relationship. To heal across the generations. To not know which side of the war we were on and how we got to the US but to know that we would walk forward and backwards together. Reclaiming the medicina of our abuelas for our abuelas. Reconnecting for ourselves and for our children. 

And so our home can know that we carry her with us. 

Debí darte más besos y abrazos las veces que pude

I am so deeply in awe and grateful for Renée and Patty, the soft and the terciopelo to my sour. Pero saben mujeres… I peeled nine mangos, soft, velvet and sour, and they all taste of home. 

Mientras uno esté vivo, uno debe amar lo más que pueda

I love us all. 

Renée and Patty - I think of you every time I replay the Bad Bunny halftime show. My kids stare enthralled at the television. The mango in my heart bursts cuando empiezan los tambores, the drums start and then everyone starts jumping, our flag right in the center of it all. I could replay those ten seconds over and over again for the rest of my life and theirs. 

Ahora sí, debí tirar más fotos de cuando te tuve.

But I carry her, home, with me always. 

She is my Quetzalli Life. 

Diana. 

P.S. I want you to know that knowing what Your Quetzalli Life is is so crucial. 

For me, it's home. It's babies, relationship. Everything I have is poured into that. All my resources are directed towards that. That is how I make my decisions and work through the FOMO, the comparison, the fucking capitalism. 

What is your center? What is your screening process? What are your checks and balances? 

You need to know this to live Your Quetzalli Life. 

Join me. 

Gente, los quiero con cojone, los amo

Gracias por estar aquí, de verdad

Para mí es bien importante que estén aquí

Cada uno de ustedes significa mucho para mí

Así que vamo pa la foto, vengan p'acá