RECENT STORIES ON STATUS OF LATINO AND INDIGENOUS PEOPLE

                       Bad News, Good News!

As I review the news coming from the Latino and Indigenous worlds, I've become aware of both "good" and "bad" news stories of late.  We'll start with the Bad News:

Due to the cancellation of visas for some 100,000 Cubans hoping to visit or emigrate to the US, "many heartbreaking stories" are being reported by the Tampa Bay Times.  These include: cancelled family visits and reunions, cancellations of scheduled sporting events, and cancellation of planned lifesaving medical treatments. The Trump administration's reason for this change in policy?  The spurious and unsubstantiated reports  of mysterious illnesses experienced by US diplomats and other residing in Havana.

US General Buchanan this week ended his recovery mission in Puerto Rico, withdrawing recovery forces and essential equipment such as helicopters from the island. A large percentage of Puerto Rican residents, however, still lack power and potable water, and a cascade of officially unreported hurricane-related deaths continue to occur as a result.  The General's remarks suggest that he is aware that the work is nowhere near completed and yet he says that the time for transition is "right."  He also expressed concern for how Puerto Ricans will cope with the next hurricane to hit the island, whether this season--which is not yet over--or next. Impression: a responsible and compassionate military man who is compelled to follow orders issued by a federal government which is much less so

Publication of a Short Story

I'm very happy to share today the links to my short story, "Maria," published in the current edition of the Adelaide Literary Journal, a beautiful multicultural magazine.  My story tells of the experience of a poor Puerto Rican family's survival of Hurricane Maria, as told by a six year-old girl.

Enjoy, readers; and please give your support to Adelaide and follow me on this blog--thanks!

http://adelaidemagazine.org/f_epmurphey10.html

 http://online.anyflip.com/fypa/gxei/mobile/index.html#p=1 

Ethnicities Mezcladas!

I've had a couple of interesting experiences recently that helped me feel less alone and brought home to me the beauty of diversity and mutiple ethnicities.  The first was joining up with the Facebook group, "Hispanics Be Like."  A post asked readers how they respond when people say to them, "You're white--how can you be Latina?"  A LONG thread of responses followed, from white- appearing Latinx men and women alike, who have struggled and dealt with this issue.  It was fascinating and inspiring to hear what these folks had to say, and I suddenly felt like I had dozens of new siblings and cousins!  Thanks to all of you for sharing your experiences! We are the trailblazers for coming generations of diverse people who will demonstrate to the world that being Latin is so much more than having a particular skin color or type of appearance, or even how fluent we are in Spanish! To me, it really comes down to who we feel ourselves to be in our hearts!


The second multi-ethnic encounter I had over the week happened when I went to visit the accordion shop Liberty Bellows in Philadelphia's Center City to have an appraisal done for repair work on my aging Anglo concertina.  Yes, the name of the instrument is a bit ironic for me, but it is actually the cousin of the button accordion that's played in Tex-Mex and other Latin music. (Non-Latinos, think, Flaco Jimenez!)  It's diatonic, which means that a single key gives you get two different notes depending on whether you're pushing or pulling on the bellows.  It's sort of like inhaling or exhaling (sucking or blowing!) your breath and getting different sounds when you play a harmonica. A button accordion for this reason is different from the Lawrence Welk-type piano accordion, which is "chromatic" and produces the same note regardless of whether the musician is squeezing or drawing on the bellows. To my ear, the button accordion has a much punchier and funkier sound than the "stomach Steinway!"

 Of course, a diatonic accordion or concertina is much more complicated than a harmonica,  and they're pretty challenging for most musicians. I once owned (and played in a rudimentary way) two button accordions, and foolishly sold them when we moved to DC.  Now I have hope of eventually replacing at least one of them through a local business! (Note that what's pictured here is the more conventional piano accordion, taken from Liberty Bellows' web page  libertybellows.com.)

At Liberty Bellow, not only was I given a very reasonable estimate for the repair work, but David and I also came away with a sense of how many of Philly's immigrant groups have used the accordion in their music. Dustin, the salesman we talked to, told us that he has played accordion in Irish, Klezmer, Polka, and Samba ensembles!  And in the store's huge, museum-like free reed collection, we also saw instruments associated with music from Mexico, Italy, Argentina--on and on!

So let's all celebrate our roots with music, singing, and dancing; and affirm who we know ourselves to be in our hearts regardless of our physical appearance!

A Memory of Parting

A Poem in Memory of My Father, Jose Angel Peña, 1922--2000

The season of death is stealing in,

The mist-filled wood smells of decay.

This time four fleeting years ago

I saw you last, then went away.

Called from this blazing autumn vale,

I travelled far to your bedside.

There, in a foreign, open land

Low mezquites crouched resaca-side.

That arid place was your first home,

Land of your sweet, ill-fated birth.

There, in a hammock bathed by sun

You first knew love upon the earth.

The circle of your life closed fast;

We knew the time would not be long.

It was my gift to leave you last;

As you slept I sang a song:

Now I am going to the harbor

Where one meets the ship of gold

That must bear me away.

Now I am going;

I have come only to say farewell.

Goodbye, my love; goodbye forever, goodbye.

Never more will your eyes look upon me,

Nor your ears hear my song.

I will deepen the oceans with my tears.
Goodbye, my love; goodbye forever, goodbye

                         Personal Musings on El Dia de los Muertos  

Today is the second and final day of El Dia de los Muertos.  As someone of  Mexican and Anglo ancestry, I came to this holiday at midlife, and I'd like to share some of my personal reflections.

                                                     Dia de los Muertos Altar, 11/1/2017


My first experience with the Day of the Dead came when David and I visited the Detroit Arts Institute when the museum was having a special Muertos event, featuring altares and ofrendas made by by local Mexican-american artists and a poetry reading by one of Diego Rivera's grandsons.  The Rivera connection is that this special event and exhibit were located in the DIA's central courtyard, which was painted with murals by Rivera when he and his wife Frida came to Detroit in the 1930's.

The two artists visited some of the impressive auto plants, and this inspired Rivera to develop a theme of industrial workers and nature vs.technology as the focus of his work. This was to become one of Rivera's most successful and famous projects. Sadly, Frida's biographers make note of the fact that she experienced a miscarriage during the time she and Diego were in Detroit for the painting of the murals.. She depicted this tragic even in her 1932 painting, "Henry Ford Hospital," showing herself on a blood-stained bed surrounded by images of the lost fetus and other symbolic objects. Throughout their stormy relationship, Frida had had a passionate desire to bear Diego's child. However, her uterus had been gravely injured in a gruesome accident she suffered as a teenager, and it seems that the miscarriage that took place in the US put an end to those hopes forever. The fact that the mural-emblazoned museum courtyard  has an historical association with death and loss made it an appropriate place for an exhibit related to the Day of the Dead.

During the car ride back to Ann Arbor I reflected on this very moving visit to the DIA and began to feel an impetus to create my own altar as soon as I got home.  I didn't have any of the traditional materials handy--marigold flowers, chocolate, pastry, copal incense, paper-cuttings, or special foods such as tamales. But I made use of what I had: some dried corn and beans, leftover Halloween candy, some Mexican ceramic dishes, table candles, and a few fading chrysanthemums on stalks broken from the frost-wizened garden. It was a deeply satisfying process and I've repeated it every year since.

A visit to a Muertos event at the Mission Cultural Center in San Francisco with my sister, Susan, marked one memorable celebration.  There were a number of themed altars by Bay Area artists, and a performance with music and comedy skits. We painted our faces as calaveras, took part in a parade, and had a great time!

I went on to host a number of annual parties in our home in Montpelier, Vermont; that featured an altar, a Mexican-food oriented pot luck, readings of poetry,  rituals, and music.  These were very beloved by our friends, some of whom have carried on the tradition since our family moved away.

This time of year is also strongly associated for me with the death of my father, Jose Angel Peña, who passed away in Brownsville, Texas on October 29th, 2000.  I've often wondered why he didn't "hold out" until the 31st, which is when El Dia de Los Muertos (which is actually the two following days) officially begins.  But then I though about the fact that when he came to visit he often--much to my chagrin--showed up a day or two earlier than planned.  Well, I guess when his time came, he chose to depart a bit early as well!  His picture is always prominent on my altar.

I encourage everyone to learn about this special holiday and find ways of making this beautiful tradition your own.  Perhaps it can bring us healing in this time of loss, trauma, and suffering!