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threw up her hands and said, “¡Pero si son que se rien de to’ el que ven.
5
americanas!” They’re American girls! (The daughters of Juan Mejia
/
We hit it off with the boys. All the other girls dance well and are so pretty
came with their mamis or tias in tow; Dilita and I but they’ve got one bad quality,
were free and clear. Inside of a week we both had they make fun of everybody.)
Narrative
boyfriends. Dilita, who was prettier than I, landed 8
the handsome tipo, tall Eladio with raven-black Las gringuitas, they nicknamed us. Dilita
hair and arched eyebrows and the arrogant stance didn’t mind the teasing, but Mangú could
of a flamenco dancer, whereas I ended up with always get a rise out of me when he called me a
his chubby sidekick, a honeyskinned young man gringa. Perhaps, just a few years away from the
with wonderful dimples and a pot belly that made name-calling my sisters and I had experienced
him look like a Dominican version of the Pillsbury on the school playground, I felt instantly defen-
doughboy. His name was Manuel Gustavo, but sive whenever anyone tried to pin me down with
I affectionately nicknamed him Mangú, after a a label.
mashed plantain dish that is a staple of Dominican But though he teased me with that nick- 20
diet. A few days after meeting him, Mangú’s mother name, Mangú made it clear that he would find
sent over an elaborate dessert with lots of white a real gringa unappealing. “You’re Dominican,”
frosting that looked suggestively like a wedding he declared. The litmus test was dancing
cake. “Hinthint,” Dilita joked, an expression every- merengue, our national, fast-moving, lots-
one was using at her school, too. of-hip-action dance. As we moved across the
Every night the four of us went out together: dance floor, Mangú would whisper the lyrics in
Dilita sat up front with Eladio, who had his own my ear, complimenting my natural rhythm that
car, and I in the backseat with Mangú — a very showed, so he said, that my body knew where
cozy boy-girl arrangement. But actually, if anyone it came from. I was pleased with the praise. The
had been listening in on these dates, they would truth is I wanted it both ways: I wanted to be
have thought two American girlfriends were out good at the best things in each culture. Maybe I
for a whirl around the town. Dilita and I yakked, was picking up from Dilita how to be a success-
back and forth, starting first in Spanish out of con- ful hybrid.
sideration for our boyfriends, but switching over Still, when I tried to talk to Mangú about
into English as we got more involved in whatever something of substance, the conversation
we were talking about. Every once in a while, one foundered. I couldn’t carry on in Spanish about
of the guys would ask us, “¿Y que lo que ustedes complicated subjects, and Mangú didn’t know
7
tanto hablan?” For some reason, this request to a word of English. Our silences troubled me.
know what we were talking about would give us Maybe my tias were right. Too much education
both an attack of giggles. Sometimes, Eladio, with in English could spoil a girl’s chances in Spanish.
Mangú joining in, sang the lyrics of a popular song But at least I had Dilita to talk to about how
to let us know we were being obnoxious: confusing it all was. “You and I,” she often told
me as we lay under the mosquito net in the big
Las hijas de Juan Mejia double bed Mamacán had fixed for us, “we have
son bonitas y bailan bien the best of both worlds. We can have a good time
pero tienen un defecto here, and we can have a good time there.”
“Yeah,” I’d say, not totally convinced.
7 ¿Y que lo que ustedes tanto hablan?: “and what are you talking
about?” in Spanish. —Eds. 8 Las gringuitas: “little non-Hispanic girls” in Spanish. —Eds.
180
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