I am mother and daughter, teacher and student, writer and reader. I’m woman and lover, but never have been – and likely never will be – a wife.
I am a traveler, and I am fearless. I wear flip-flops in the security line, because it saves time, and I never check luggage if I can help it. I carry my cream rinse and lotion in a Nalgene travel set. The little bottles hold 3 ounces each, and I appreciate their simple, finite shapes. My passport and tickets and cash are in a pouch that swings resolutely from my neck, and thus my hands stay free, always available.
I am sometimes surprised, but I’ll never let it show on my face.
My hair is long and thick and coarse, Aslanesque, and looks better the less I wash it. I fix it by feel. I have no need for mirrors. When my shirt gets dirty or my socks feel sweaty, I change clothes in the filthiest train station rest room, never letting my feet touch the floor. I can take a shower at a sink. I eat the local food and speak the popular slang. I collect colorful phrases, words that tickle me, and I incorporate them into my personal lexicon.
No one can ever figure out where I’m from.
I’m not rootless, it just seems that way. Give me a little time, and I’ll match the pattern of my chair’s upholstery, even if it’s paisley. Give me a lot of time, and you’ll swear I was born to sit there.
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My name is María. I like wasabi, patronize bunny rabbits and think red wine really needs to stop pretending it’s not purple.
I lived in Grenada for four glorious years. My son – Joaquín the illustrious Bean – was born on the island. He’s beautiful, brilliant and has two birth certificates. Now we’re back in the land of snow and afternoon sunsets, and all the diet Coke and Thomas the Tank Engine in the world won’t cushion the blow of such culture shock.
“Letters from Grenada” is our story.
I was born in New York and lived there most of my life. I grew up in Nyack, New York, a village in Rockland County, the crown jewel (says I) of the Hudson River Valley. (You can, if you like, refer to Nyack as Nyack-on-Hudson, but I don’t.) I went to the Rockland Country Day School for elementary, middle and high school. I lived in Ithaca, New York for four years while I was a student at Cornell University. I studied in Paris for a semester, which was even sweeter that it sounds. I graduated in 1999 and moved back to Nyack, then later to New York City proper. I had double majored in HIstory and French, but I went to work for a healthcare organization.
I moved to Grenada in 2004, following… well… it’s a long story. I legit lost track of how many times I traveled back and forth between the United States and Grenada. I lived there for the the better part of four years. We returned to the U.S. in the Spring of 2009. It has been a difficult transition. The cold, the reverse culture shock, the food. The lack of sunlight. Bean has adjusted. He’d lived his whole life in Grenada. We’d visited four times, but truthfully I’m lucky he’s so malleable. He’s not yet four, and his spirit is unbreakable.
Every day single day in Grenada was a small adventure, even days spent at home. I slept through a hurricane. I witnessed a heated, fascinating general election. I was there for four Carnivals (Spicemas) and three Christmases. I got to know Grenada pretty well. I knew my way around, I knew how to shop, I knew how to behave at the beach, even if I occasionally chose not to. I learned to love the food and to appreciate real cocoa.
I miss it. I miss it a lot.
(It took me nearly a year to update this page to reflect the fact that I’m no longer living in Grenada. What you seee above is still a work in progress, but it’s a good start. And you can click here for my old “about” page, which I plain just could not bear to delete.)
