Soledad: A Novel

by Angie Cruz

The thought of going to D.R. all by myself is terrifying. With my mother even worse. I remember the way people ask for so much. My mother’s aunts, uncles, and cousins asking for mandaos. Just send a small TV, that’s all I ever wanted in the world. They will want my jewelry, my clothes and take them off my back. And of course I will have to give it to them because you can’t say no to family. They will want me to watch them kill the goat in the backyard, or they will break a chicken’s neck so I can have it for dinner. Because I’m a gringa, they will fill me up with refresco rojo and not let me drink the water. They will say things like, Ay Soledad, this bed is old but for a few days it should be fine, and make the kids who share that bed climb onto another crowded bed without any air-conditioning and fans, just so I, la gringa who is used to las cosas Americanas, will feel comfortable, be able to sleep alone, and hopefully grant their favors.

Expectations from family in DR are stressful because of their living conditions, demands, and sacrifices