Happy Anniversary, Ophelio!

Today is my little sister’s 21^st birthday. I wish her nothing but health, happiness and growth. But today’s story is not about my baby sis.

Today, I also want to wish Ophelio, my new tow truck driving go to a Happy Anniversary. Today is his 15^th anniversary of being in remission from Hodgekin’s Lymphoma. Last week, while he was helping me with my organization’s exploded rat in car engine debacle, he told me his story…

~

Before driving a tow truck, Ophelio was an architect working hard on jobs and not treating himself so well –not enough rest, not eating right, etc. Every night, he would have a fever and break out into terrible night sweats. In the early, early morning hours, he’d be awake and still sweating, he’d shower, feel all right and go to work again.

One day, he had another feverish sweat, but still took a shower and went to work. As he was sitting in front of his computer, all of a sudden, he blacked out. By the time 911 came, his temperature was so high that they had to put him in a bathtub of ice at the hospital, just like in the movies! When I asked him if he was conscious and scared in the tub, he said, “No, I was scared when they told me I had 3 months to live!”

He began chemo at Columbia Presbyterian but the chemo, the hospital environment and the back and forth to just his hospital room began to depress him and he asked his doctor if his insurance would pay for outpatient treatment. They wouldn’t. “I’m tellin’ you. Insurance is there to kill you, not save you!”

His doctor wrote him a letter recommending him for Medicaid. They wouldn’t take him because he made too much money. It wasn’t enough for treatment, though. Ophelio decided to go to the NY Cancer Society for help. They accepted his request and paid for his outpatient treatment. Meanwhile, his mother taught him natural treatments and he began to eat healthier. He told me all about the seeds and drinks that he imbibed that he believes made him better.

When his last check for $13,000 from the Cancer Society came, he returned it. He didn’t need it anymore. “You sent it back?!!?” I exclaimed.

He grinned at himself broadly. “I sent it back! I knew the same way I needed that money, somebody else needed that money, too, so I sent it back, even though everybody told me I was stupid for doing it! Money is nothing. It comes and goes,” he shrugged.

~

Though that day was an awful and unproductive day, I’m kind of thankful that little rata exploded in our car. Otherwise, I would never have been able to meet Ophelio, listen to his story, learn from him and smile with him. It was one of those interactions with a stranger that’s just pure human connection and love.

So, Happy Anniversary, Ophelio. Here’s to 15 years more!

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part Time Indian

I was finally able to read Sherman Alexie's The Absolutely True Diary of a Part Time Indian. It was fantastic -so fantastic it sometimes made my chest hurt. Arnold "Junior" Spirit tells the sometimes poignant, often funny, most times painful story of his journey through high school as a "Part Time Indian." He lives on the rez but decides to go to school in a nearby all white town -at times he finds himself to be too "Indian" and other times too white.

While some brown folks look back into their childhood, trying to identify specific moments where their double consciousness was most palpable. Junior brings us through his double consciousness, flipping open and shut the veil of his identity(ies), showing us that it's everyday. He reminds us how much it matters and how much it doesn't while highlighting life on the rez with his astute observations.

This is a definite must read for brown people of all ages.

Faces -Flashbacks

Everyone has triggers -sights, sounds, smells that bring them back to a different time and place. They may have lived it, they may not have, but those triggers take them somewhere else. Up until recently, faces weren't a usual trigger for me, but today at Mass, I was unassumingly looking around when the face of a Filipino man smacked me between the eyes and reminded me of home. It's been a while since I've had so visceral a reminder.

What's funny is, I've known this man almost my whole life. He is the father of a girl from my grade school. While we weren't close, her family was always around so I was very surprised when his face threw me across the world into a hot, muggy, open air Church where the old women were wearing veils and Church uniforms and the men Church vests or barongs. He threw me so far back I had to catch my breath and squint my eyes so as not to let tears fall.

What is this connection? I still can't figure it out. Is this what happens when somebody moves to another place, even if it's only for four months? It sticks with you? Sticks to your ribs and pulsates in your mind, waiting to flash through you like an electric shock? I can't figure it out, but all I know is that it's there and it's strong.

*On a complete side note -What is up with girls and women in Church wearing no clothes?! If they're not the shortest shorts in the world, they're the tightest pants ever or something inappropriately see through!!! And it's not just young girls, it's older women too. Whhhyyyy?!?!?! smh.

Diwata by Barbara Jane Reyes

Next on my list of poetry to read is Diwata by Barbara Jane Reyes. If this portion of a poem is any indication of what the rest of the book is like, I'm finished!

"She was born with fins and fishtail,

A quick blade slicing water.

She was her father's mermaid child.

A river demon, elders said.

...She lit oak pyers and bade the wind

A whispered requiem."

-Barbara Jane Reyes

Ike and Sam Get Me Every Time!!

A few months ago, I was in Whole Foods buying yet another slab of cheese when I saw a bright green snack bag with the cutest illustration of a popped corn and kettle. I almost bought the damn bag of popcorn and I hate cheese popcorn. Ew.

The other day at Fairway, though, I totally failed. I got SUCKED in by the purple bag of Ike and Sam's Caramel Crunch Kettle Corn. Three of my favorite things in one -the color purple, cute/weird/random cartoon characters and caramel corn. It's such a curse.

Today, as I munched away on a percentage of the bag that will not be revealed here, I thought to myself, "Dag, Biba. You're like 8. You totally got sucked in by the purple bag and the cute, cuddly corn and kettle!! Curse you, advertising world and Biba's immature advertising screen." It prompted me to look up a little bit about the design of the logo and I actually found the website of the designer, Geoff Glisson, who is responsible for that cute little corn and kettle set. Apparently, they were one of the fastest growing snacks in their category and I can't help but think that Geoff Glisson really helped them out with that one. He must be RICH!!!

Smh. Oh, the power of advertising! Can you imagine getting rich over a sketch and prompting thousands of unsuspecting customers like me to get fat over some bright colors and a piece of popcorn with big googly eyes that beg you to eat it and a sardonic looking kettle that looks like someone is calling it black?

Try this brand at your own risk. And if you're like me (apparently, an 8 year old child) you may want to avert your gaze from the brightly colored packaging. Next time I walk into Fairway, I will be looking to the right of the chip aisle, where all I'll see are drably colored and packaged Blue Corn chips.

Detox starts in a week!! lol. No, really.