Sh!t Dominican Moms Say and Do

You’ve got to admit it; Dominican mothers are crazy (in the demands department). I have yet to meet a semi normal one. What I mean by that concept, which meaning we don’t truly even know anyway, is a flexible, laid back and carefree mom. They’re a kind of their own. Who the hell came into our country and taught these ladies the old-fashioned things they say and do today? Was it you, Columbus? Do we owe it all to you? In the Dominican Republic, some parents raise their children under rules so ridiculous that somehow they’re effective.

I sat down — trying to keep myself from falling off my chair from laughing — and wrote down a few sayings, actions, and beliefs of some Dominican mothers. I thought, HOW THE HELL DO THEY COME UP WITH THIS STUFF? The list is not written in any particular order and it doesn’t necessarily reflect the views of all Dominican moms, obviously, but are so typical that if you brought up any of these subjects to a Dominican person, she will immediately know that you’re either Dominican or know one.

Here is what they say:

ONE: No ir a lamber a casa ajena. (Do not go freeloading at someone else’s house.)

Don’t you dare eat someone else’s hard earned food! I don’t know if anyone even abides by this command or if this was something that only my incredibly considerate mother believed, but growing up I sort of rejected a lot of eating invitations. My guess is that the Dominican Republic being a country where so many families lack the resources to provide a meal three times a day, some parents are concerned and considerate enough to keep their little ones from going to the neighbors’ during lunch or dinner time. It is customary and a polite gesture to invite visitors to eat if you’re eating when they arrive. That means the visitor would be taking food from someone’s plate. It might also be that parents don’t want others thinking that their own children have no food at home. (That Dominican pride never fails.) Maybe this explanation is total bullshit and I’m just trying to make sense of this etiquette because, in my opinion, it is okay to say yes to food offers.

Getting to someone else’s house at lunch or dinner time, which I tried to avoid at all cost, was torture. Neighbors would offer me food and I always had to choose between what I wanted and what my mom would’ve wanted me to do. If it were up to me, I would’ve chosen free food any day. But I’d say no because that is what they taught me at home. Sometimes, I think even the ones making the offer secretly wished that the person, in this case me, rejected the invite. On that note, when going out to eat, no leftovers on the plate meant you were still hungry—and that looked bad. Yes, you read that right; if you cleaned your plate that meant you were probably still hungry. Because, nothing says ‘I loved my meal’ like leaving it all on the plate? I can’t even begin to count the amount of plates I’ve seen over the years where a piece of meat was left, or a small pile of rice, or two tostones (since one would make it too obvious), just so that the other people sitting at the table wouldn’t think that you were still hungry.

Again, these are just unwritten rules, but as it happens with any unwritten law, people follow blindly.

TWO: Su novio tiene que venir a verla a la casa. (Your boyfriend has to come see you at the house — if he wants to be with you at all.)

I say boyfriend only because girls are the “weak” ones who need protection. Boys are always regarded as independent grownups, at any age, who can take care of themselves, thus not requiring parental supervision when they have a girlfriend. Amazing stuff.

So, forget about being sneaky with a forbidden love, young girls. What happens is, a Dominican mom will always find out and it may never be known who the tattletales are. Or could it be that nothing stays a secret in small towns? Forbidden love was such a thing when I was a kid that the lovebirds had to get very creative with their meet-ups. They almost always met at a friend’s house or at a park. And if you were my cousin Saul, you’d end up making a baby in the woods.

The thing is that neither fathers nor mothers want their girls meeting with any man outside of the house. So, the mother would say something like, have that son of a gun visit you here or else it is not happening. And you have better not contradict your madre. It is not a fun adolescent experience; you’re under the supervision of an “actual adult” and you can’t do the things that you would otherwise, and very willingly, do had the parents not be present.

Now, why would a parent who doesn’t like a boyfriend still ask their daughter to have the boy come see her at the house instead of anywhere else? They do this to prevent the girl from doing something crazy, like running away with the guy — because we all know how well banning humans from doing something has worked out. Also, parents want to be in total control of the situation, and that’s the only guaranteed way to do so, under their supervision, they think. Furthermore, and perhaps more importantly, they want to keep neighbors from starting rumors because, as any good Dominican should know, other people’s opinions of you have the upmost value.

THREE: Hay que besar la mano. (You have to ask for blessings.)

The exchange goes something like this: “¿Bendición, Mami?” the kid says. And then the mother responds with “Que dios te bendiga, mi hijo.” It’s a game of words where the kid essentially asks the parent for their blessing and the parent responds by saying “May god bless you.” And woe betide the kid who doesn’t ask his elders for their blessing… adults may think he’s a brat with bad manners. Or that might’ve only happened to me, who knows.

Asking for la bendición is a most normal thing to do in my country and it is not only expected from children; older people ask their moms for their blessing, too, all the time. It is actually one of those traditions I see no harm in. I didn’t feel too comfortable saying it to my far uncles and aunts, though, and so when I ditched religion, I quit asking for blessings altogether. My own mother thinks I’m being ridiculous and I’m committing blasphemy. So, whenever I greet her, on the phone or in person, she ignores my will and wishes blessings upon me because, “Even if you don’t believe it, a mother’s blessing is very important,” she says. “Blessings protect you from evil.” Oh, mother…

If it is uplifting for mothers to bless their children, I see no problem with it. It’s good to know that not all their rules are always bordering with crazy.

FOUR: La mujer no se sienta en la pierna del hombre. (A lady doesn’t sit on a man’s lap.)

From the creators of “be a lady” comes don’t sit on a man’s lap because that makes you a whore. Shit, and all this time I had thought a whore was someone who exchanged her body for money. Looks like I was wrong; sitting on a man’s lap, a non-issue, can also make you a prostitute? Clearly, anyone other than a prostitute sitting on a random man’s lap should check herself. It doesn’t need explanation — it’s just weird. Maybe that’s what Dominican moms mean by this, but you never know with them. But to label a woman “easy” or a whore if she sits on a man’s lap is extreme.

In the case of a couple, where the two are more than likely already getting it on, why would it be unacceptable for the woman to sit on her man’s lap? I’m not talking about sitting in a suggestive way, a way that makes it uncomfortable for everyone around; I’m not talking about having sex with their clothes on. I’m talking about a woman innocently sitting on her boyfriend or husband’s lap because maybe all of the seats are occupied. What is wrong with that? Apparently, everything. I learned it the hard way one day when, at a house party, I was accused of committing this same crime with my then boyfriend. And I wasn’t even in the Dominican Republic…

FIVE: El señor es mi pastor. (The lord is my shepherd.)

If you ever become friends with a Dominican, you should know that everything happens because it was the “Lord’s will.” And I’m sure this is part of almost all Christian cultures I know, but Dominicans take that belief to new levels. Everything is done only god-willing. And everything, absolutely all the good things that happen to you, certainly come from god. If they’re bad things, then it’s because you were probably an a-hole and you deserve it. That’s on you, friend. But don’t worry, “god will fix it.” (Do they ever think that if this god were so powerful he would stop the bad things from happening in the first place?)

Look, I get it: if you’re insanely religious, like my aunt Fran, or mildly religious like my own mom, that is going to be your thing. You’re going to make god your priority; you’re going to make god your reason (though it is a total contradiction). God comes first, we get it. But would you, dear moms, also please understand that not everyone is, or should be, into god? Freedom of religion, moms! It is totally okay to be an atheist if in nothing you trust.

My mom is not the biggest fan of flying, so she always asks my aunt to send prayers her way. She thinks that because Aunt Fran is at church day in and day out her prayers would be heard with urgency. [INSERT LAUGHING WITH TEARS EMOJI] How was your flight, mom? I’d say. “Well,” she responds. “Fran did her thing and I had a very pleasant flight. I said, god please, take control of this plane and get us to our destination safely.” That’s sweet — and a bit hilarious — but that pilot went to school for years to get you from point A to point B and back safely. Can we give him a little credit?

The point is Dominican moms are always saying that the lord did it, unless it is something awful. In that case, you messed up, child. And, what’s with the shepherd thing? Are you all sheep?

SIX: ¿No tienes nada mejor que hacer? Toma una escoba. (Do you not have anything better to do? Here’s a broom.)

What is it with some Dominican moms’ obsession with cleaning? Hey, I’m all about that, but to them there seems nothing more satisfying and time fulfilling than cleaning. It is their favorite thing to tell you to do when you’re just chilling, and therefore, according to them, wasting time. Go do something productive, like polish some utensils! It doesn’t matter if you had just cleaned a spot five minutes ago; they’ll find something wrong with it and tell you to redo it. Also, they want you to clean every freaking day. I literally cleaned the house every single day when I lived in the Dominican Republic. When I think back, it was crazy, but at the time it had already become such a habit that I did it unconsciously. It wasn’t until I moved to the US that I realized that my mom had been overdoing it. I don’t think it’s necessary to clean the whole place on the daily now — but do clean your dirty dishes as you go.

I guess I could see why some moms in the DR feel the need to clean every day, though. It is a tropical country where windows and doors may be open throughout the day, allowing for dust to easily find shelter on every piece of furniture. Maybe that’s the reason why cleaning is the first thing that comes to mind when they want to tell you to get busy; it is a task that always requires attention.

I prayed that my mom didn’t notice me doing nothing whenever I was doing…nothing. It was almost as if relaxing was a sin in her head. “Don’t you have something to do?” Yes, mom, I’ll go grab a broom now.

SEVEN: ¿Cuándo se piensan casar? (When do you think you’re going to get married?)

A couple dating for over a year, sometimes less, is expected to get married soon. No questions there. If a girl has a boyfriend, there must be an engagement at some point; there must be plans for marriage. It can’t just be a relationship where two people who love each other decide that they just want to live one day at a time and go with the flow. Nah. You’d better forget that flow and start planning that wedding. Or else, every vecino, every member of the family is going to bug you about it until a cake is laid over a nice white laced table cloth, wedding rings and bows are exchanged, and a contract between you and your mate is signed at a big fat Dominican fiesta.  

Dating or not, the question when are you getting married? will come, so you might as well have a nice comeback ready.

EIGHT: Tú eres parte de la familia ya. (You’re part of the family now.)

Picture this: a Dominican girl brings her all American boyfriend home on a Sunday, and by Thursday, he’s on his way to the farmacia to pick up some medication for his future mother or father-in-law. He becomes part of the family right away and that means “my problema is your problema” now. He is expected to help out with whatever is needed (and he is expected to do so eagerly). That’s how he earns the trust of the family because, NEWSFLASH: he’s in a relationship with the whole family, not just with the girl.

NINE: Eso se cura con Vivaporú. (Vicks VaporRub will cure anything.)

This one is light and is more on the comedic side. If you’re not familiar with what Vicks VaporRub is, it is basically an ointment that is supposed to help relieve discomfort from coughing and soothe minor body aches related to the common cold. Somehow, someday, in the mind of the Dominican mom, this became a miracle drug in a jar. I think there’s a mutual agreement that it can’t cure cancer, but everything else…it can.

Do you have a fever? Worry no more; Vicks VaporRub is the solution. A headache driving you crazy? Dip a finger in the jar, rub it on your temple, and relief you should find. Chickenpox? VaporRub! Diarrhea? VaporRub got you there, too! Okay, I haven’t heard that one yet, but I surely wouldn’t be surprised.

If they haven’t, Vicks VaporRub should select a Dominican mom as their spokesperson because, at least, there would be no doubt that the marketing is genuine and it is done with high enthusiasm, and a peculiar kind of passion.

By now, you’re probably feeling some type of way about Dominicans. In your mind you’re saying, avoid and abort any mission that is currently underway. It’s understandable, Dominican moms and consequently their daughters can be intense and demanding as f*ck. This article is not meant to demean the Dominican culture — I’m Dominican, ta da! I have no problem with self-deprecation. I think it’s funny, all these nonsense they say. But despite anything negative I might’ve suggested, I promise you this: there isn’t a culture as hospitable, welcoming and FUN as Dominicans. You’re in for a treat. Think about it; would you rather have an unstable but fun family or a sane but lame as hell one? Look, if I can find no balance in between, I’d pick the crazy one. We have a lot of living to do, might as well have fun on the way.

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Across the Bed

Why do you think we lie on our back sometimes across the bed when for answers we search? Arms spread out, down in defeat, as if by doing so the world would change a thing. Is it because it feels like the most comforting thing ever, or is it because we think the ceiling can hear us, can talk? Maybe baring our souls to the unknown gives us some weird kind of hope?

I have more questions than answers. Thus, if you do know, say so.

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Batsh*t Crazy Makes Me Drink

Here’s a little story.

I remember the night of November eighth. I wanted to go to a bar, be in the middle of the action, get ready to celebrate Hillary Clinton’s victory–just as I had for Obama last two elections. But sh*t escalated quickly.

My friend wanted to go to her brother’s house instead, so I went with her. Now I was stuck at this house with nothing but one glass of wine and a baby sleeping upstairs. Add personal troubles to the mix and here was a worst-case scenario at its best. Meanwhile, as the results kept coming in, all I wanted to do was go outside and scream. At the moment, I could not believe this was the people of the United States of America digging their own grave. (Now we have a pretty good idea of all the shade behind this election.) Everyone around me started feeling sick. I wanted to puke. The last time I felt that sick to my stomach it was September 11, 2001. How did we get here?

This election has been particularly tough to assimilate for pretty much any person of reason and morals.

We ended up going back to my friend’s house that night–no longer needing to celebrate–and downed a couple of tequila shots as if it were water. I can never do straight non-chilled shots, mind you, but I had to calm my anxiety somehow. I tried drowning my repulsiveness in alcohol, but it didn’t work. It was a hell of a terrible, sleepless night. And, if the Electoral College doesn’t come through on December 19th, I’m hoping to be drunk for the next four years.

Drink responsibly.


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Spilled Thoughts

undefined sketch

When my mind is trying to tell me something, and I don’t know what, I just start sketching and stuff spills out. And it just comes out. And it’s therapy. And I love it. And I want to share it with the world, even if no one gets it. Can you relate?

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Don’t Read The News

“Don’t read the news,” I tell myself to avoid disappointment, disgust, rejection, repulsiveness, and sadness. That never works. I never listen to my own commands, my own advice. Mainly because I love being informed, even though the result is almost always the same: bad news.
world news

And it’s even worse, ten times intensified, when you get your news from the internet because it comes with an incredible amount of unsolicited commentary from trolls who are very proud of their opinion no matter how utterly stupid they sound.

I’m starting to wonder if this is really how we’re supposed to live; making each other sick with misery. Humans can’t seem to reach an agreement on how to coexist. And, common sense now seems subjective. OK, maybe common sense is still common. There are quite a lot of us fighting for reason and truth.

Maybe the problem is not that all is bad, but that we think it is. It’s ultimately what they (the ones in control) choose to show us as “news.” I don’t blame them. They want views and leads. They know that, after all, a lot of people aren’t interested in happy news, so they feed us their worst. And I guess it works.

It drives me insane, but I can’t stop reading headlines.

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And Just When You Thought Your Eating Habit Was Bad

A thought comes to mind.


One day (last night) I had cereal for dinner. The next day (today), I had a banana and a cup of tea for breakfast; a plain lactose-full cheese sandwich with a cup of milk for lunch; and then, for dinner, a few chicken finger strips. That’s not gourmet, but it’s all right. It’s just that it is the worst series of meals I’ve had in a long time.

I thought, what am I doing disrupting my diet like that? Back-to-back. Then reality hit me: some people follow no regimen because they have nothing to eat at all.

Those of us who have the luxury to be selective with what we eat sometimes forget how lucky we are. You can’t punish yourself for having access to all sorts of foods, nutritious food, while some people starve. It’s not your fault. But I think it helps you to stay grounded and in touch with reality when you consider where you stand.
Maybe it’s the hopeless compassionate being in me, but I’m always thinking of the less fortunate when someone complains about what they ate or when someone leaves a crazy amount of leftovers on their plate — I hate seeing it go to waste.

As for me, I like staying on top of my game health-wise. I’ve skipped a few good meals due to nothing but laziness (and then there’s also the fact that I can’t cook). I’m one of those “freaks” who must eat right to feel well, physically and emotionally. That’s my only concern. But it takes only a simple thought to bring me down to Earth because, when I think of the world’s disadvantaged and how I’ll have access to a hot plate the minute I decide to go grocery shopping, I know I’m going to survive.

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Internal Scream

Someone once said that silence is the most powerful scream. The trick is knowing when someone really is just silent.

A scream has many faces, many ways of interpretation. A scream has the habit of disguising itself as a greeting face. Big parenthesis from ear to ear may as well be deep marionette lines, but are invisible to the gullible eye. Do you ever notice when someone’s screaming inside? Or why?

If you were more caring, more intuitive, you would. Sometimes I wish someone would notice. But they never do.

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Earth For Days

planet earth

When celebrating Earth, I’m always reminded of two things:

1) We’re all citizens of this planet, so let us stop calling other humans “illegal.” And

2) Without Earth, there’s no us — let’s do all we can to keep it clean and take better care of it.

Astronomer Carl Sagan’s beautiful famous words on Earth, Pale Blue Dot, are a good reminder of our place in the vast Universe.

Look again at that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every “superstar,” every “supreme leader,” every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.
The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot.
Our posturing, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.
The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.
It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.

Striking and humbling. Happy Earth Day!

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