By Sal Guarino
Tía Mirnita y la Familia
Driving with my wife from San Miguel to Valle de Santiago a few weeks ago to attend a misa (mass) and family gathering honoring her mother who recently died, I had one of my first opportunities to engage with mi nueva familia (my new family). Leading up to our recent wedding, our two years of dating occurred mostly via trips between Querétaro and Southern California, so we haven’t had too much interaction with the wider family. Despite feeling a bit dimmed by the shadow of this day’s circumstances, I was excited to start integrating myself with my expanded Mexican relatives.
In an attempt to reduce my sense of feeling like a fish out of agua (water), I asked my wife to help me rehearse family members’ names and genealogical links as we made the drive. Amused and appreciative of my good intentions, Alejandra facilitated my self-assigned crash course in tías y tíos (aunts and uncles).
“So, Tío Alejandro is actually Jano, right? And that’s always how it is with the name Alejandro? He’s married to Tía Came, and they have two sons, Alejandro (Janito) and Alberto (Beto), and their daughter, also named Came?” I hesitatingly asked.
“Sí!” my wife confirmed my multi-layered question with an impressed smile and some follow-up. “Came is short for Carmela. And remember, Tío Roberto is the nuclear scientist, who never got married because he’s too logical …”
“Right, right,” I confirmed, moving on to cover some of the primos (cousins) next.
We continued volleying in our game of “name your new Mexican relative,” driving through onion and garlic fields, a noticeably different landscape than I had thus far seen in my limited exposure to the vastness of Mexico. While enjoying our instructive and interesting back and forth, neither of us had an inkling of how fortuitous my acumen for quick memorization would be.
After attending the misa at a beautiful little church, I observed the family engage in some intense, loud, and intimate conversations outside before we all proceeded through the streets of Valle to Tío Roberto’s. Within minutes of arriving, family members dispersed into individual workstations in the kitchen, the bar, and the outside grill. Direction was unnecessary as nearly everyone began working their own prep stations with the efficiency of a professional futbol (soccer) team doing gameday practice drills. Young primas mashed and seasoned frijoles with the ease of tying their shoelaces, tías folded tortillas into quesadillas, while tíos manned the grill, preparing untold kilograms of carne asada and chorizo. Tío Jano, the perennial bartender, served up Cuba libres and tequila with childlike joy and eagle-eyed precision. When your drink even approached being empty, he’d swoop in with a devilish smile and obligatory refill. The Swiss-watch-like integration of moving human parts was a choreographic scene to behold, made more magical by the palpable sense of joyous camaraderie that filled the air, complementing the happy aromas of the imminent Mexican feast.
While my wife was discussing family business in another room with her siblings, I took a seat in the kitchen and kidded with Tía Mirnita about how I heard this was where the Spanish lessons were being held. Jokingly, yet with a stern, mother-hen air guiding her response, she replied, “Lo siento, todo español aqui!” (I’m sorry, only Spanish here!)
I adapted quickly, applying my mediocre Spanish conversational skills, and mentioned how I had been memorizing family names and connections during our trip to Valle. With a ready-made opportunity now in hand to put this gringo to the test, Tía Mirnita snapped back, “Sí? Quién soy? Quién soy?” (Yes? Who am I? Who am I?)
While I had felt pretty comfortable upon arrival with my new extended family, I suddenly felt a like a wandering gazelle who had strayed from the herd.
“Yo sé quién es. Yo sé” (I know who you are. I know), I teased in return, heightening both the jovial nature of the exchange as well as the stakes for our suddenly intensifying game of “put up or shut up.” Sensing the eyes of others in the room fixating upon us, as they might around a dramatic poker game drawing to a close, I drew upon my former life that contained too many hours in such scenarios, paused for effect, and then slow-rolled my reply.
“Es Tía Mirnita. Casada con Francisco, con hijas gemelas Mirnita y Karen, y hijo Paquito.” (You are Aunt Mirnita. Married to Francisco, with twin daughters Mirnita and Karen, and son Paquito.)
The air in the kitchen, which had grown heavy with the weight of Tía Mirnita’s spectator-worthy grilling of this newlywed, lightened greatly and immediately with the collective acknowledgment of my correct response. It was like getting the #1 answer on Cien Mexicanos Dijeron (One Hundred Mexicans Said)! Feeling buoyed by the bilingual animated praises now being uttered around the kitchen table, I pressed my advantage, addressing several members of my new fellowship directly by their correct names and familial affiliations.
“Buenas tardes, Tío Ramiro, y hola Primo Fabián” (Good afternoon, Uncle Ramiro, and hello Cousin Fabián), I continued, with an air of puffery.
As the playful head-to-head tension between Tía Mirnita and this test-passing family newbie subsided, we shared a warm and momentary stare. Quién es? I reflected upon her original question, wondering if this devoted matriarch and family gatekeeper actually knew who she already was to me. Did Tía understand that she was now my Aunt Marie and my Aunt Sue from Brooklyn, both gone from earth years ago and part of the collage of rich, tender, and often pained nostalgia of my yesteryears? Did she recognize that I was instinctively seeking out her challenge question with as much emotional fortitude as she conveyed when asking it? And for as independent and confident as I usually am, that our cocina (kitchen) meeting of the minds and hearts was the olive branch I sought and needed to grasp? Espero que sí! (I hope so!).
Sal Guarino, born in Brooklyn, NY, and now settled in Centro with his Mexican wife, Sal brings a rich set of life experiences to the table. In “SALudos de San Miguel!” Sal shares his sense of joy for living through ongoing reflections of gratitude and positivity. His first book “SALutations!” was published in 2018. Contact: salguarino@gmail.com.
