Relatives and friends greeted them at the airport with posters and bouquets of flowers. Luisito was blinded by camera flashes. Women of all shapes and sizes hugged him and pinched his cheeks. Men greeted him with pats on the head and slaps on the back. There were hugs and tears all the way to the parking lot. Instant cameras spit out green pictures that were fanned until dry to produce images of his family.
Luisito never realized he had so much family! Back in Cuba, there were only his parents and Abuela. No one else. He was now part of a clan with many kids his own age! Rosie introduced him to each family member and explained how they were related. It was too much information at once, so Luisito decided that for now he would just smile and nod. Finally, he was introduced to Rosie’s husband, José, son, Tommy, and daughter, Sonia.
José was tall and muscular with premature gray in his hair that complemented his youthful face. He spoke some Spanish but much more English. He said he came from Cuba when he was five years old. He had a contagious laugh and a carefree attitude. He mentioned that he was an architect and had designed his own house. Luisito had never really thought of anyone doing such a thing. The only construction projects he knew of in Cuba were the hotels built by foreigners.
Luisito observed how the luggage swirled by and passengers would quickly pick them up. How could they tell which was theirs, Luisito thought, when all the luggage looked the same to him? During the car ride to Rosie’s home, the adult conversation revolved around the different ways Abuela could legally come to the United States. Luisito listened quietly for about an hour, until they arrived at a house with a well-manicured lawn. More people came out the door to greet them, many of them women who bore a resemblance to his Abuela. Some of them snapped pictures; others were too busy hugging to remember to take pictures.
When Luisito entered Rosie’s house, a rich blend of seasonings in the air greeted him. He followed the pleasant aromas to the kitchen, where pots and pans were full of good things to eat. He watched as busy hands cut up vegetables and sprinkled spices for salads, sauces, and stews. Luisito couldn’t believe so much food could exist in one single home. There were foods he had never seen or eaten before! He wondered if they worked for the government. Then he remembered things were different in this country. Back in Cuba, only those in the military or who were well connected had access to these things.
“Luisito, con esa pinta vas a tener a las muchachas así,” some of the elderly relatives teased him.
Luisito noticed that some of his girl cousins laughed or rolled their eyes at the men’s silly remarks about having several girlfriends at a time.
“Don’t listen to them, Luisito,” Rosie said, laughing. “They are married to their only girlfriends!”
“I know,” Luisito said laughing. “Perro que ladra no muerde.”
Everyone laughed at the old Spanish saying that literally says a barking dog doesn’t bite, meaning that those who talk a lot are just bluffing.
“Here, taste this, Luisito; does it need more salt?” asked a relative stirring something on the stove. The creamy sauce filled Luisito’s mouth and he licked his lips with delight.
Relatives were turning Luisito this way and that. He was being hugged, patted on the head, and introduced to more cousins his age.
“¡Los primos!” they shouted. He never knew he had so many cousins! They all waved shyly. Luisito found their names so strange and hard to pronounce: Sean, Avery, Ashley, Bradley. He wasn’t sure if the names were for boys or girls when he heard them in conversation. It was incredible for him to think that he had family that spoke a different language, with a completely different lifestyle, and yet with some similar customs.