#Cooking Caribbean in NYC

[dohabarlounge]

Join us on a flavorful journey at Love's Kitchen NYC, as we explore the vibrant world of Latin American and Caribbean cuisine with the renowned content creator @LaPerlsFoodie. Discover why this unique 2D Cafe is a must-visit destination in Queens, New York!

🍽️ What's Cooking at Love's Kitchen? Love's Kitchen serves up an eclectic mix of Latin American dishes with a strong Caribbean influence. Expect to find mouth-watering selections from Jamaican, Peruvian, Dominican, and Mexican cuisines. It's a culinary melting pot that promises to tantalize your taste buds!

🌞 Brunch All Day, Every Day Yes, you heard that right! Love's Kitchen offers an all-day, everyday brunch menu. Whether you're an early bird or a late riser, we've got your brunch cravings covered.

👩‍🍳 @LaPerlsFoodie's Top Picks:

Jerk Chicken Sandwich with Maduros & Cole Slaw: This is a must-try according to @LaPerlsFoodie. The perfect blend of spicy and savory!

Lomo Saltado: A Peruvian classic that will leave you craving for more. Heart-Shaped Empanadas: These aren't just cute; they're delicious! Try the guava & cheese, jerk chicken, and cheeseburger varieties. The Nutella French Toast: A sweet twist to your brunch. Butterfly Lemonade: Refreshing and unique, this drink complements any meal.

💬 @LaPerlsFoodie's Verdict: "The jerk chicken sandwich is so good, I can't recommend it enough. You need to try it!"

📍 Visit Us: 125-02 84th Rd, Queens, NY 11415 Open Daily: 11 am - 10 pm https://www.loves.kitchen

Follow Us

https://www.instagram.com/loveskitchennyc https://www.facebook.com/Loveskitchenkewgardens https://www.tiktok.com/@loveskitchennyc

🏷️ Tags: #LovesKitchenNYC #Queens #Empanadas #HeartShapedEmpanadas #LomoSaltado #10DollarLunchDeals #Deals #JerkChicken #Brunch #EverydayBrunch #Butterflylemonade #Lemonade

[cybermoonmoon]

“...we just were”

We all start somewhere. See above our extended family home on East 127th Street Harlem. House on left. This in 1950 more or less. The house shared by my Aunt Sybil aunt Agnes, and my Ma Carmen. My Aunt Agnes, and my Ma lived there till they bought their own homes later in the later 50’s. Aunt Sybil, and her family stayed till the early 1960′s. 

Back then even as new immigrants do now. One house is brought, and the extended family moves in.  Mom, and dad lived on the second floor. I’m told I was nearly born there. No plaque as yet. My Uncle Clyde…designated maternity driver. His car a ‘49 Ford nearly didn’t start, but he got us there. 

We stayed close as we all grew up. The families visited near every week. Tho' we lived in far parts of town. One moment I’m digging holes in the back yard when Dad yanks me up into the old Buick. Then I’m digging holes in my aunt’s yard. Only now with my cousins. 

In our new home we were always taking in relatives as they came through NYC from the Islands. I remember folks just showing up and staying for a time. This in all of the family houses. Like grandma taught. Always cook for more. Ma did, and often. ...a good thing too. This as cousins’ friends of family connections of affection passed though.  As kids we thought this was normal. Folks just came and were family or treated as family. 

History is hard to see when it rings the doorbell bell. When it’s that close. We were witnessing part of the Second Great Migration North. The first from the Deep American South then from the Caribbean Islands. 

Our folks never explained details to us. As kids were on our own to figure connections, and meanings. I just remember a happy blur amongst sister brother cousins’ friends and friends of friends. That we all belonged together was unquestioned. We were family. We just were.

[itsmani]

Chapter 6 Fieldwork

On my father’s side, my family has lived in America since the time of slavery. In fact, a lot of my family members on his side are still living in many different states within the south. From Georgia to Alabama and everywhere in between. On my mother’s side however, she is a first generation American. Both of her parents met in the city of Belize, which is ironically located in the country of Belize. Belize is a country located in Central America bordered by Mexico, Guatemala and the Caribbean Sea. 

My grandparents left the country of Belize when they were around 17-18 years old. Therefore, they’ve lived in the United States for about 55 years, this is crazy to fathom because I can’t imagine packing up and leaving a country at my age. I also am privileged enough to not feel the need to leave the country I currently reside in. They then proceeded to have my mother in Brooklyn, New York in the year 1975. We’ve been here ever since. However, I still have so many family members that reside in Belize, who I have yet to meet. Like my great grandmother for example who is currently 88 years old. As for my grandparents who went from living in Belize to living in the states, I’d say they’ve adapted pretty well. They live their day to day lives just like any regular American. However, their culture is something they carry on them like house keys. Both of my grandparents still have their Belizean accent despite living here for over two centuries. They also, especially my grandmother, love to cook popular foods from their country. In fact there’s a food called fry jack, similar to what’s known as bake in other caribbean countries, and every time she visits my house, she makes it. 

My grandfather is bald but has one dreadlock at the back of his head with beads to represent his culture. The accent, the food, the hair, the stories, are all ways that my Belizean roots stay connected. On my father’s side, American Nationalism is definitely a huge part of who they are because this is really all they know. Unfortunately, there’s also a lot of family members I have yet to meet on my dad’s side being that I live in New York City and they’re mostly still residing down south. Specifically where I live in NYC is a melting pot of many different cultures and ethnicities so honestly, I’ve been exposed to a lot of it, and consequently this in itself is a huge part of my identity. I grew up on a block filled with many different Caribbean cultures, different from my own Belizean background but also similar in so many ways. 

This fieldwork only strengthened my desire to want to travel to Belize. I’ve never been anywhere outside of The United States and I’d love to know more about my family members there and how they live their lives daily. Sometimes living in America, people forget that life exists outside of this one country. I do not want to be one of those people.

[amateurd18]

Hii Ami!! Secret Santa here!! Hope your Monday treated you well for the start of your week!!✨

That’s so valid!! Sometimes, all it truly takes is taking the canon complicit storyline and turning it on its head to make it into something new!! Is there a specific trope you like to read? I really like reading things that have a lot of fluff, but I can also appreciate a good angsty fic!! I tend to lead more into one-shots rather than chaptered fics only because it’s hard for me to really get immersed into the storyline if it runs on for too long, if that made any sense!! 😅 doesn’t mean I don’t read them from time to time!!

Someone else who loves art!!? Icon!! Love that for you!! I really love art as well!! I haven’t really experienced much when it comes to digital art; I tend to stick more to traditional mediums like painting/drawing and the occasional 3D pierce!! What do you like to create the most? I tend to gain inspiration from the 1d boys in the sense that I really like drawing them in portrait style lately, if that makes any sense!! I remember being in high school and creating art pieces with lyrics from different songs associated with them!! I had those all over my walls that ranged from 1d lyrics to fall out boy to panic at the disco and much more lol. Good times.

I can agree with you that Niall/Louis have the sounds that I like out of the other boys, doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate their other sounds as well!! I totally understand having an appreciation for the pop-rock genre!! It slaps!!

Speed Round Questions!! Fav. Food/Cuisine? That’s a tough one!! My family is from Puerto Rico, so I have an appreciation for that Caribbean style of cooking!! I love all things rice, so I would probably say that!! My grandmother makes the best pot of rice and beans!! I would probably have that as my last meal if I could!! Spotify Artist? Since I do not have Spotify, my Apple Music top artist is a little embarrassing to say. If you know the band Big Time Rush!! I didn’t realize just how much I listened to them this year since it was their comeback tour!! I grew up listening to their music and watching their tv show that I guess the feeling of nostalgia that was associated with their music just took over me without really realizing it lol. It surly did surprise me!! Christmas? I do celebrate Christmas, to an extent!! Not necessarily in the religious way, but I do participate in the gift-giving aspect of the holiday!! I like getting my friends/family gifts to show my appreciation for them more than I like to receive them! I stopped asking for gifts on Christmas around the time I finished high school. Never really asked for much since I can afford to get it for myself!! Do you celebrate any particular holiday? Also, do you have a favorite place you have ever visited, whether that be on vacation or just as a tourist? 🎄✨

Hii! Omg i do remember big time rush. I wasn't ever a fan personally, but i remember hearing about them. Didn't they first kick off their careers like a yearish before 1D?

Also, i love the gift exchange and chilling with family aspects of festivals, they're so much fun. I'm Hindu, so i don't celebrate Christmas per say (i just do secret Santas with my friends because gifts). My fav festival would probably be Diwali. Though the vibes between that and Christmas are very similar. Everyone decorates houses, you hang out with your fam, eat good food, and get gifts.

Ooh i don't know if i have a favourite place as such, but some places I've really liked are...drumroll for cliches....nyc and Disneyland and universal studios. Do you have a favourite place? Also, any touristy things you've done which you've thoroughly enjoyed? Xx

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

A draft of points Meghan could use in her letter to Charles. Please reply with additions, corrections or a sample letter. ✍

1-Opening

Dearest Most Honorable Majestic King & Father I Never Had

2-My Purpose Today

Help you maximize your potential

Give you another chance to make Harry your rightful heir

Be a guiding light to Britian and all Commonwealth Countries

Remind you that I am your spirit animal

Lead you in a televised cleansing, love & light, family I never had retreat where ALL royals (& Middletons) apologize & bow down to me

Accept forgiveness from the family I never had & allow you to make amends

3-BRF Secrets revealed in 3.5 memoirs

Harry-Camilla wouldn't buy me a pony

Mine-Kate & Eugenie stole our signature color (green), the Queen named us Dumb, Nottingham cottage sucks- no servants or cooks, William loves Kate more than me, Things Harry did at Soho House that will give you a heart attack

Archie-toasters & waffle makers suck

Lilibet-the queen gave me a dumb name too

4-Demands

Adelaide Cottage for Harry's Office & living quarters

Adelaide Cottage servants quarters for Doria

Frogmore House for me

Windsor Castle for Archie & Lili & the nannies

Weekly 1:1 private lunches for you & me in your garden

All of Diana's jewelry & clothing to me

That blankety blank blank Green Tiara

Justin makes Harry Honorary Secretary General

Enrollment at William's kids school (send them to South Africa)

Apartment 1-A

$50 million to burn Harry's memoir

Permanent HRH with IPP Status

Palm Trees to be planted in the name of M & H

Dan Wootton, Piers Morgan, Lady C & Tom Bower to the Tower

Ski Chalet

New House in Beverly Hills

Make me UN Secretary-General

Properties in FL (Serena's neighborhood), Paris, Vancouver, NYC, a Caribbean-ish Island (of course) & Martha's Vineyard, MA (MV sounds like my kind of people)

Houses for glam squad use

Private plane

All of William's titles

Change the name of the Invictus Games to HRH Meghan Games

A yacht, of course

I will become Queen, of course

Hair plugs for Harry, of course

Omit Scabies in charge of Royal Rota

5-Closing

I never signed anything

As ever, Your Tungsten

[paulwaynenyc28]

#kitchen #foodie #jamaican #jamaica #cooking #kitchen #reggae #music #nyc #atlanta #culture #africa #caribbean #afro #peace #love......prepping curried goat’

[jongomez98]

Disruption of Culture

The last major standpoint that will be said is the great disruption of culture that comes with migration to the US. As a young boy I remember taking a trip to Dominican Republic and enjoying the natural scenery and authentic Dominican food. The atmosphere provided by the seemingly more natural lifestyle added an appreciation to my heritage as well as a deeper understanding of how my grandparents lived. As aforementioned in my last post, food is a very easy means to associate loosely and interact with a person’s culture. When coming to the US, food is made at a faster pace and met with different standards as food is considered safer and cleaner as opposed to small islands in the Caribbean. But there are natural processes such as generational cooking recipes that may seem outdated due to technology, but impact the way food tastes. This is just one of the many ways that disruption of one's culture can occur and is very prevalent when considering that many migrants have a hard time adapting, especially in a robust city such as NYC. The interview that took place was between my grandmother who was originally from Puerto Rico and came over here when she was in her early twenties. She spoke in Spanish so I will be translating the interview into English; CG(me), DC(Grandmother).  

CG: So grandma, how did you feel when you first came to the US

DC: I remember how pretty the city was when I first got here, and also a sense of alienation as I felt truly far from home for the first time in my entire life.

CG: What were some of the things that you noticed about NYC?

DC: The first thing I noticed was that there were very few trees, there were huge buildings everywhere I looked and so many people everywhere. It was full of life though, the people themselves seemed like they were rushing somewhere while going about their day. 

CG: was the fast paced life something that was easy to adapt to?

DC: It was extremely difficult at first especially when trying to get a job, it was completely different to living on the Island, everything was high paced and high energy, I was overwhelmed at times trying to keep up. But eventually I learned the climate of NYC and once I learned how to tell which train went in what direction I became a real New Yorker (laughs).

CG: When you first arrived, where did you live? 

DC: When I first moved here, I stayed with a friend in Washington Heights, there were a lot of immigrants who had just moved too. Most of them couldn’t afford the rent in Manhattan so they all moved to either the Bronx or to parts of Queens. I moved to Bushwick in the 1980's, when I had your mother. It was a cozy tight knit community that was a mixture of Hispanic and other minorities. 

CG: Can you tell me more about what it was like in Bushwick raising kids? 

DC: It was pretty difficult as I relied heavily on my kids to translate a lot of the conversations, as the primary language was English. It was hard to give up my Spanish and adapt to English because no one ever taught me past my high school education. The community itself was filled with a lot of Hispanics who only spoke in Spanish as well, so it wasn’t always too difficult to find someone who spoke Spanish. The area was a lot more dangerous and there was an unwelcoming atmosphere surrounding the community to outsiders. A lot of the public places were either run down or vandalized to keep outsiders away. 

CG: When you say outsiders what kind of people are you referring to? 

DC: You know who I mean, young white couples and people who came from wealth, the community was very poor so it was very easy to come and buy property in the area, it was underdeveloped and the upper class saw an opportunity to convert the area. By the time I was ready to leave to another apartment in the early 2000s the area began to change. 

CG: What changes did you notice? 

DC: The first things that I immediately noticed were the rebuilding of a lot of public spaces, such as parks and modifying spaces that were lovely damaged, such as sidewalks and crosswalks that were rundown. But generally it was good for the community as it made the community appear to be clean. People of the community noticed these changes and others retaliated by continuing to vandalize public spaces, through graffiti and intentionally dumping trash. Crime rates also went up to dissuade people from moving in by making the area seemingly more dangerous than before. 

CG: Why do you think people didn’t welcome these new changes? 

DC: People obviously don’t welcome change, especially in a community with mostly poor residents, they feel as though having a nice area means higher rent and cost of living. In order to counter this they create unnecessary turmoil. 

CG: Is there anything else you want to mention in regards to disruption of culture within the area?

DC: It's clear to see that through these  niceties there were big changes that were brewing, and the community retaliation was a warning for these outsiders. Now that the community itself has changed, it's no wonder why those people fought so hard to preserve the organic sense of belonging within the community. Everyone used to be friends with their neighbors and kids would often run around together and play on the sidewalks and sit on stoops having a laugh. It's sad to see that this culture no longer exists within this community with new renovations of old buildings getting rid of the simplicity of older times. Now with all the rent skyrocketing, the people I used to be friends with have either been forced out or are struggling to survive now. 

This interview that I had with my grandma highlights some of the organic culture that was formed by a melting pot of culture and as it has been gentrified more and more it seems that the culture has been discarded in place of more modern and formal life. The community still holds certain traditions, but the culture that once used to be is no longer here. After immigrating to this country in pursuit of a better life, it's sad that a place my grandma had made her second home has been uprooted in an effort to make a more desirable community to gentrifiers. Below is a picture of me and my grandma.

[pixiegal]

Derek Poe for @sojusimmer’s Olivia

26 | Graphic Designer | Del Sol Valley | 180 cm | Creative, Perfectionist, Loves Outdoors

Can you tell I’m indecisive as fuck because I couldn’t choose one picture?

Hailing from Oasis Springs, Derek has spent the better part of his life under the desert sun, trying to keep his rascal of a younger brother in check. They would spend days hiking the valleys and creeks around the small town, often reminiscing on their future: moving from the hellhole that was Oasis Springs and into new, better life somewhere big and vast. Derek made it. His brother did not.

The cancer that took him had been so rapid and aggressive even the doctors had been alarmed. And just like that, the one thing that anchored Derek had been lost. His parents had grown more distant than ever, leaving Derek afloat with nothing else to ground him. He moved to Del Sol Valley to live with his uncle at 16, eager move away and, maybe, for a softer beginning.

And for a time, it was. Derek, eager to please, was the golden boy: excelled in his studies, maintained a tight circle of friends, was accepted into the School of Visual Arts in NYC, nice and polite. On the surface, life was good. Truthfully, though, Derek had been living in a continuous haze that would continue well into his college years: party after party, faceless bodies in dark nights, sweet words and empty sentences - always tender, always almost present, he treated his partners with the utmost care and devotion. Even if for a night.

Recently, though, Derek’s been sobering up upon finding his footing in the world. He’s more relaxed and outgoing and although his genuine smiles are rare, they can light up the entire room. He wants to actually be present for someone (and he knows he can). It’s a new chapter, after all. 

Some facts about Derek:

His favorite color is blue.

Makes an awesome sushi thanks to his college roommate’s extremely high standards. He’s a terrible cook tho

Does have an awesome alcohol stash.

Will listen to pretty much anything, but he loves classic rock. Mostly listens to film soundtracks while working. He can recite the entirety of Pirates of the Caribbean by the music alone.

Works way better when sitting outside than in a cold office.

Specializes in real time visuals for music shows and parties. Has recently spent a few months in Tokyo and Seoul while setting some new connections for his studio.

Would laugh at your joke, no matter how bad it is. Always laughs at his own lame jokes, and a sucker for rom-coms - wait, what?

Got the disheveled prepster look going for him - letting go of soft blazers and unbuttoned shirts would be hard. But he really is sweet, once you get to know him. 

He might not express it, but he feels very strongly. Pay attention to his actions, not his words. A total giver, never a taker, as his friends would tell you. Derek denies this with all his might. He’s also the cuddly type. He denies that, too.

Has had one serious relationship that ended badly when he was 21 (turns out she was cheating), but other than that he’s had a string of friends with benefits (surprisingly, he keeps in touch with most of them).

Hope you like him, love! <3

[705beats]

This is getting old now😥😥😥...Got something cooking still 😝😝😝😝😝😛😛😛 Enjoy for now...Link in Bio 🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽 . . . . . #africa #dancer #rap #music #rnb #soca #hiphop #fashion #jamaica #caribbean #africanmusic #dancing #afrobeat #afro #party #dancehall #shakushaku #chopdaily #afrobeats #love #afrohouse #ghana #afrodance #nyc #reggae #nigeria #dj #dance #london #trap https://www.instagram.com/p/Bx4tL0fn5Iq/?igshid=1bmxe4280n4nk

[djstumppinz]

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[ilikeyourteeshirt]

springtime/birthday musings

its the eve of the start of my 35th year. ive come around to the number 34. i was really vibing on the 3′s in 33. but maybe 3+4 isn’t so unlucky. its prime, after all. im sitting in my apartment. i have an apartment. im here alone save for the two presumably sleeping airbnb tenants who are in the guest bedroom. i’ve moved to rockville, maryland, about 8 and a half miles from the house where i grew up and exactly 7 miles from the little pizzeria that im currently managing. what a turnaround from....where were the last time i posted? we saw a few teeshirts (lets face it, the real star of this medium), delayed notes on the lumdsen, a mediocre pub i visited in new zealand, and then two summers ago in portland. 

well, a quick catchup: i spent the rest of said summer hanging out in oregon and northern california --> a few weeks gallivanting with friends in LA --> nyc for a wedding and a subsequent month and a half in nyc working a dream job at vinnie’s pizzeria and raging hard. i went after that on a caribbean cruise with my family to bury my grandmother(’s ashes) at sea. and then accepted a position at inferno pizzeria napoletana in darnestown, maryland, a literal soccer ball kick’s length from where i went to high school. 

there’s a lot to be told in all of that, but lets start with the wine i’m drinking right now. a beautiful argentinian malbec. its soft, light and smooth. very evenly balanced. delightfully dry. 

i’ve learned a lot about wine in the time ive spent back at inferno (having worked there for 6 months, from about when it opened in nov 2015). i counter people who say i know everything about wine, telling them i know a lot specifically about the wines (and beers) on our list. which is basically true, though i’ve acquired a certain amount of all around knowledge. i’m pleased with my gains as a manager of this beverage list. of anything i’ve learned about wine/beer/food, though, the most important is that if you like it, its good. and if you don’t, its no good. 

managing this small, neighborhood, classy/casual, upscale food being served by staff in soccer jerseys kinda joint, my love of hospitality has been reinforced, my seemingly innate barrier against self doubt has been questioned and i’ve stayed in one place, dedicated majorly to one job for 1.5 years. life is strange. 

in doing this, i’ve really recognized the importance of food. for one, from a point of personal appreciation. what else other than food? it is nourishment, it is medicine, it is comfort. it is a call to action for thoughtful time spent in preparing and purposeful time spent with oneself or with others in enjoyment and intimacy. from any kitchen or table in the world, cooking and dining can offer a glimpse ino the full scope of the human spectrum. 

i also look at my chosen course of professional endeavor, dealing in food . im good great at hospitality. i’ve always been drawn to it, from bikes to boats and beyond. i’ve wandered around and seen how little one actually needs to survive. we need food, though. for sure. its one of the only true essentials. yet, its growth is often unseen, the ease with which we transport it numbs us to the true cost of its availability and only a tiny sliver of the people working to prepare it are glorified for their efforts. take a server, for example. everyone wants to go out to dinner but service staff are often underpaid, undervalued and straight up mistreated. the job is seen as second class and an option someone takes out of necessity. 

for the absolute record, myself and my staff are not underpaid. we are not undervalued and anyone who cares to mistreat us (which does not happen often) is served what they deserve. not like we’re spitting in their food....but we don’t shy from shaming someone for their callousness. 

i’ve deliberately selected this work. will it be my path forever? time will tell. but i see food service as absolutely necessary and valid. i get pleasure from welcoming my guests, some of whom ive gotten to know well. i take pride in serving the food, knowing where its come from and the care with which it was prepared. a $26 truffle laden personal sized pizza might not be an essential. but people gotta eat, so they might as well eat well. 

that is the core tenet of my work but also the lions share of my play. i’ve been doing a lot of eating and drinking around the burgeoning food scene of this politically charged village. 

i’m hoping to spend more time here lauding you with tales of my culinary escapades. 

for now, i’ll keep sipping this wine. its pairing marvelously with my mother’s homemade carrot cake that she makes every year for my birthday.

 cheers

[sherry9492]

Dinner, beef low mein, best low mein I ever made ☺️ so delicious Better than my local Chinese spot! #dinner#tonight#beef#low#mein#better#than#Chinese#take#out#bowl#chopsticks#yummy#chef#cook#homecooks#trini#queens#nyc#ny#caribbean#cooks#❤️❤️ (at Simple fusions)

[singledadhamilton]

Storytime: The Scissors Incident Part 1

John POV

Part 1

It’s storytime!!!

Hello, you adorable and lovable fans whereas every Saturdays or Tuesdays (Williams forgot to mention that part) where one of us Hamilton kids will tell you a story from our childhood. They’re the craziest, funniest, and scariest event that ever happens in our lives for the past ten years. But pfft, this is known as from my family especially our family known as the scissors incident as it was something very unexpected and so yeah. This is a going a two-part story which yall needs how the event lead Let’s get on with this story.

This event took around when Philip, Angie, AJ, and James were about 12 ten years old and us which meant practically me, Williams, Eliza, and PJ was about 8 or 9 years old. I think us younger quadruplet were about 9 since we were only about 2 1/2 years apart. But anyway not relevant to the first part of the story...during the time between what  ....the incident occurs to our mom and dad. Well, dad has already been a single dad for almost a year at that time and we were returning to New York after leaving Nevis that we live over there for 3 years. FYI: We move to Nevis after month from the trick or treat incident. It was kind of hard for us to accept the fact to that we’re leaving Nevis since that became our true home despite being born and raised in NYC for the first years in our childhood but they never remind us such happy memories. My dad went through a harsh heartbreak because of my mother and soon my dad becomes a single dad to eight kids for the past ten years. So, after the incident, my dad immediately packed all our stuff up, sold all the items we didn’t need and got everything packed in order to live in Nevis. Turns out that my Uncle James whom my father assume perish in the hurricane many years ago. After telling him what happened between him and my mother...Tio James automatically pays for all the airports, tickets, and everything.

Next thing you know our little asses were living Nevis and we only talked Spanish both in the household but talked both English and Spanish outside the household. Since we mostly talked English during our times in New York but since my dad is a Hispanic Caribbean Immigrant. He thought it would be nice to know where our ancestry roots come from while speaking Spanish in the household.

Now, all you’re wondering well why does this have to do with the story? Why are you telling about your past? Hold it for a minute and listen closely my adorable fans. Ok.

After returning NYC from Nevis my siblings and I were trying to talk English more often nowadays since we always talked Spanish during our stay in the Caribbeans. Anyway, my dad worked a full-time job at this local 24 hours diner and we didn’t really see him that often since Papa was always trying to make ends meet. So we were trying to adapt talking more in English with each other but still felt a bit weird cause we have gotten so used to talking Spanish for the past three years. That when we as siblings decided that we speak Spanish at home and English when we go out with friends or school. And I remember this incident occur during summer vacation and we just been in New York for about two weeks now. I wanna say two weeks cause Angie is the one waking me up early for breakfast. I remember waking up in such bitchy ass mood since I ain't-a morning and still not to this day.

I glare at my sister and crankily toss my blanket aside with an attitude. Letting yall know in advance that I never acted this way with my dad. Cause Papa Hamilton doesn’t play around and he won’t hesitate to whoop my ass with the Chancla. Just thinking about it still send shivers down my spine. But yeah, my older sister loves me to death for being patient with me. Nevertheless, I was pissed that my sister woke me up early in the morning even though it was summer vacation. I didn’t want to go my Tia Peggy condo so she could babysit us while Papa work. Worst of all after washing my face, brushing my teeth, basically the typical getting ready morning such.

Worst of all is when Angie pull out the comb and oh my gosh...WWIII was about to start. My hair is naturally curly and wavy I hated when Philip and Angie would comb my hair since they’re heavy handed. I always prefer my dad combing my hair since he knows that it hurts if you pull the comb a bit too hard. But I was having none of is so I was doing the most and started fighting with my sister. I was swinging my arms and legs acting like a crazy person before Angie places the comb down and started shaking me saying...

“John!! Jackie bebe enough!!! You ain’t dying”  

Let’s not be judgy here ok. Let not. An older sibling can handle so much from their younger siblings. Especially dealing with a hardcore temper tantrum and I give credit to older siblings for actually dealing bratty younger siblings I’ve met during my middle school years.

Back to the story, I was still acting crazy and swinging around cause I didn’t want my hair to be combed. This kept on for a good five minutes until finally, my sister lost it. Angelica lost her shit and next thing I know smack. You guys, everything went frozen for me and touch my cheek where my older sister has smacked me hard across the face. It wasn’t even a slap or oh no it was a full on smack across the face. This immediately shocks me cause #1 cause she’s my older sister and wasn’t my disciplinary, #2 she has never smack me before and never lost her patient before, and #3 it really hurt me that Angie had the gut to smack me across the face. I like “Girl, I know you did not just hit me on the face” but I didn’t do anything at all. I just stood there frozen like a statue as my sister combs my hair.  

I automatically put on my hoodie and cover my face since I didn’t want to look at anybody, I especially didn’t wanna look at Angie ugly ass face. Just kidding sis, I love you and you’re beautiful so yeah. My dad didn’t question it cause he knew that when I’m upset about something or someone I’ll put my hoodie on so I don’t explode and take my anger out on anyone else. But I guess he thought I was mad at him for letting Angie comb my hair. So we ate breakfast very fast cause my dad has to go to work an hour early than usual, after arriving at Tia Peggy condo and say our goodbyes to Papa after dropping us off. Us all eight kids including Uncle Lafayette and Uncle Hercules kids: Georges, Anastasie, Marie, Henriette, William Cooke, and John W. Which adds up to 14 hyper kids in one huge condo with one woman watching us as our parents work. All 14 of us place our stuff on the coffee table in the living room before going to the playroom for the younger kids and the game room for the older kids. I put my spiderman backpack on the coffee table and took off my hoodie since I felt that I wasn’t mad at Angie anymore.

As soon I took my hoodie off Henriette took one look at us and gasp as if I grow a second head or a third eyeball. I gave her a confused look and asks

“Henri? What’s wrong?”

“Yo...Your cheek...”

“What about my cheeks?”

“One of them is red”

“Red?”

As soon Henri says the word “red” my Tia Peggy automatically come to us and also given me a worry somewhat concerns look on her face. She quickly drops down to her knees and inspected my right cheek before touching with the tip of her fingers as if I would break. I was looking her and Henri all wondering “What chu mean my cheek is all red? Like I wanna know”. Peggy hugged me tightly and looking at me all scared and freaking out on the inside which made me scared as well. Like, I didn’t know what they meant about my cheek being red and with my, Tia Peggy hugging me tightly and acting very concern just seem all weird and guilty in a way. And she started asking me all of these questions like

“John, sweetie. What happens to your face, baby? Did your siblings do it? Or did you fell and hit your face?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Tia. Can I go and use the restroom?”

My tia just let my little self-crept to the restroom which was right next to the game room so I enter and did my business. Cause I really need to pee as well but after doing my own thing as I’m watching my hands that when I notice the red mark on my cheek where Angie has smacked me early in the morning. It was still a fresh red color and you could see the finger marks of the mark. It actually looked like I came from an abusive hold house which made me very angry knowing that Angie has the audacity to let come here with a red mark on my face. Now that Henri and Tia saw it I was mortified, embarrassed, and angry. I storm myself out of the restroom and just saw Angie playing Pacman with Philip and I was just glaring so hard with tears streaming down my face. Next thing you know in my head I told myself...

“I’m calling dad. I just want my Papi right now!”

I race toward Peggy and began crying my eyes out which freaked her out overall and automatically her future mother instinct flew within her. Getting down on her knees again to level at my height before wiping my tears away.

“Jackie, sweetie. You ok? You want me to call your dad”

“Please...I want my daddy right now. I want to call my dad right now”

She quickly calls my dad as I’m still crying my eyes out and talked with him for a while. I couldn’t stop crying since I felt so mad that Angie has smacked me and angry at myself that I didn’t tell my dad sooner. As she handed me the phone I kept on crying even though I tried to stop but I couldn’t. My dad started freaking out cause he knows that I don’t cry for no apparent reason unlike someone I know ha.

“John, mijo!! Bebe que paso? Why are you crying?”

“Angie me golpeó. Ella tortazos yo difícilmente en la cara. Ahora, mi mejilla es todo roja de cuando ella me golpeó… y deseo ser con usted… papá”   (Angie hit me. She smacks me hard on the face. Now, my cheek is all red from when she hit me...and I wanna be with you...daddy)

“Ella qué?”  (She what?)

Ladies and Gentlemen when I told my father that my older sister has smacked me across the face. I knew that I have sealed my sister fate. Papa Hamilton is very crazy for a lack of better words especially with his children due to that he’s a single dad now. He’ll go craz craz if someone ever laid a single finger on us and my dad would lose his shit right then and there. Not only that, but he’s also strict with us being family and us getting along since he assumes that his brother died many years and regretted never bonding with Tio James until now.

So my father one and only rules for all of us as kids were:

“None of yall are loud to hit each other. I understand that you’re siblings and you’ll fight but if I ever see you hit one another. You will be punished if yall have problem one another you’ll come to talk with me and we’ll sort this out. Do I make myself clear?”  

If my dad ever heard that my older sister just slap me earlier in the morning. Oooh.....she better starts saying her prayers right now. Next thing I heard the tone of his voice change from concern and worry to furious and angry. And it wasn’t when he yells that scare me it was when he scolds you in such a calm voice that has a hint of anger within it frightens me to the depth of my soul. I never heard my father in that tone before perhaps maybe with my older siblings but never to us since I guess we were still a bit young. Still, that’s not the case...I remember what he told before coming over to Tia Peggy condo.

“I’ll come to pick you up mijo and I’ll talk to your sister about it”

“Ooh ok”

After my father and I finish talking once again but lasted for about a few more minutes before hanging up. I left it at that and soon went to the playroom and started stacking blocks. Williams and Eliza were wondering how did my cheek get a mark and why my cheek is all red? But I didn’t answer them and just minded my own business just waiting for Papi to come here and ready to scream at Angelica in front of everybody. As I said, Papa Hamilton is crazy with his kids, especially with his younger kids. I was just minding my own business until suddenly I heard the door slamming shut. My siblings and I instantly knew that it was our dad slamming the door which meant...he is pissed off. I saw him coming into the playroom with a blank expression on his face but I knew on the inside he was furious that Angelica has slapped me across the face.

Not even saying a word to me I automatically walk toward to him just feeling happy that he was here. My siblings were shocked and confuse seem my father always worked for a full on 12 hours. Until happen something happens to one of us so this situation was very serious. My dad got down on his knees looked my cheek that was still a bright red color. He still hasn’t spoken a single word so Papa took me to the sala and the first time throughout the whole ordeal my dad finally before snapping his fingers.

“Siéntese”

I hop my little ass on the couch as my dad went upstairs again to where the game room was at for the older kids. Not even five minutes later I heard Angie squeal lightly while Tia Peggy close both doors of the game room and the playroom. Next thing I know, all I heard was a thud and a smack!!!!

You guys my dad grabbed my sister by the hair, push her against the wall, and smack her across the face. And before yall starts getting all trigger of offense letting yall know that my dad isn’t abusive. Hell no. My dad gives the ordinary spanking that many parents do but if one of us kid hits each other then he’ll smack across the face.

1. For acting stupid and being violent

2. Cause you disobey his number 1 rule about us hitting each other.

I didn’t saw him smacking Angelica but I heard it loud enough from the sala before Dad began one his lectures. I wish he was yelling and it would be over it. But nope it was in his scary clam voice.

“How you do like it? How you do like being smack across the face?  How could slap your 9-year-old brother across the face and let him come here? Knowing you...yourself that his face was  all markup”

Angie began stammering and twisting her words over while explaining to dad...even though she just got slap by him.

“Well, he wasn’t listening..o..k...I was trying to comb his hair. He was swinging his arms and legs at me!! He was being bad though...”

“NO!! Unacceptable!! You knew perfectly well that you weren't allowed to hit any of your siblings. Instead of calling Philip or Me to clam John down. You let yourself get all impatient and smack John on the face. And be lucky this is a summer vacation and not a school day. Cause if you let him come to school looking like that...the teachers or possible the principal will believe that I’m the one that him. Not only will the police be involved but so will CPS. DO you know how hard it is for dads to get full custody of their kids despite having a clean record? Not only that but they’re also waiting for them to screw up so they can take the kids away. Do you want that to happen?”

I’m not sure what happened next but Papa Hamilton brought my sister into the living room and face her in front of me. She kept looking down at the ground with my dad who was waiting for her to speak and apologize. She looked at me in the eyes with her cheek now all red when Papa slap her.

“Look, John. I’m gotten impatient with you and I shouldn’t slap you across”  Angie spoke with a guilty look on her face but I didn’t care with a nonchalant attitude and response.

“It’s ok”

My dad and I peace out of the Condo where he took to the local diner. But I still wasn’t satisfied till I got my revenge on Angie. I’m gonna end this story here tonight and we’ll upload the second part either on Tuesday or next Saturday. Bye.

[cybermoonmoon]

“...we just were”

We all start somewhere. See above our extended family home on East 127th Street Harlem. House on left. This in 1950 more or less. The house shared by my Aunt Sybil aunt Agnes, and my Ma Carmen. My Aunt Agnes, and my Ma lived there till they bought their own homes later in the later 50’s. Aunt Sybil, and her family stayed till the early 1960′s. 

Back then even as new immigrants do now. One house is brought, and the extended family moves in.  Mom, and dad lived on the second floor. I’m told I was nearly born there. No plaque as yet. My Uncle Clyde…designated maternity driver. His car a ‘49 Ford nearly didn’t start, but he got us there. 

We stayed close as we all grew up. The families visited near every week. Tho' we lived in far parts of town. One moment I’m digging holes in the back yard when Dad yanks me up into the old Buick. Then I’m digging holes in my aunt’s yard. Only now with my cousins. 

We were always taking in relatives as they came through NYC from the Islands. I remember folks just showing up and staying for a while. This in all of the family houses. Like grandma taught. Always cook for more. Ma did, and often. ...a good thing too. This as cousins’ friends of family connections of affection passed though.  As kids we thought this was normal. Folks just came and were family or treated as family. 

History is hard to see when it rings the doorbell bell. When it’s that close. We were witnessing part of the Second Great Migration North. The first from the Deep American South this from the Caribbean Islands. 

Our folks never explained details to us. As kids were on our own to figure connections, and meanings. I just remember a happy blur amongst sister brother cousins’ friends and friends of friends. That we all belonged together was unquestioned. We were family. We just were.

[kimberlycollins]

NIPPON GA DAI SUKI (JAPAN WE LOVE YOU)

Traveling to an exotic country sounds, well, exotic. And it is. It’s a true adventure in life. It’s also exhausting. And enlightening.

I’ve traveled afar throughout my entire adulthood. All over Europe, The Middle East, Egypt, Central America, Mexico, Eastern Europe, Canada, the Caribbean, Australia… Florida. ;)

I give travel (and my parents, *ehem*) credit for keeping me grounded, humbled and modest, in the sense of “I AM BUT A SPECK ON THIS EARTH” or “MY BELIEF SYSTEM IS NOT EVERYTHING” or “I DON’T KNOW AS MUCH AS I THOUGHT I KNEW” or “I REALLY DON’T KNOW HOW I GOT BEST DRESSED IN HIGH SCHOOL” (read: France ;)).

Travel helps us all to get out of our comfort zone and to see what a tiny place we occupy on this planet. It’s a liberating realization, embracing one’s insignificance in this world. It’s not about being small, because none of us are. It’s more about the world being BIG.

Travel puts your life into perspective; your problems and celebrations do not hold as much weight as they seem. It also shows you how much you have or what you don’t have. It’s a healthy reality check.

That’s why travel is good for you.

I am reminded this after a crazy year. My husband and I have been on tour with our music (The Smoking Flowers) for a lot of 2018, in and out of the country. It’s been a healthy year of these reality checks for sure.

That’s why I am writing this post on my health blog, as this type of health is just as important as the physical.

And so I write.

I write to journal.

I write to inspire (myself, if no one else).

I write to remember.

I write because I am bored today, it’s cold outside and my matcha is steaming, infusing me with memories.

I’m also writing because I miss Japan.

Of all my travels, I think Japan smacked me across the head when I needed it most. It made me feel like I was five years old again. Everything, down to using the toilet, I had to relearn/rethink. Yep, it took 43 years off my life. Now that’s a natural youth serum I can live with.

It also made my brain function differently. Trying to learn a foreign language audibly and visually that has no history in the Latin world is truly a foreign language. I now know how to order water, draft beer, sake and vegetarian ramen in Japanese. Basics. (Although a friendly laugh is usually the response to the veggie ramen inquiry). I now know how to tell a Japanese punk band they did a great job after seeing them open up for us at our show. I learned to say just plain “awesome”, and used it a lot. Japanese is pretty “saikou”, after all.

Japan can feel very futuristic, and Tokyo is like being on a movie set at times. They are the future for most of the civilized world seemingly 10 years ahead of us all, yet still remaining ancient and historic at the same time. Eating sushi or having tea can be presented like it was 400 years ago or like something out of The Jetsons (ala conveyor belt computer sushi restaurants).

But beyond the exotic veil, it was the culture and etiquette that really impressed me and made my head spin.

Below are but a few observations of the plentiful Japanese culture I experienced over my month long visit. And of course, they are my own, so they are neither right nor wrong. Just observations from a somewhat worldly gal who grew up Southern in America:

1. The Japanese have manners like I’ve never seen.

They are unwavering in their politeness. Selfless hospitality is a cornerstone of Japanese culture, and you can feel it in everything down to their quiet nature to their cleanliness to the way they package your purchased goods like a present. And that bow! That Japanese bow. It makes you feel special.

2. They are startling quiet and calm.

Given that Tokyo houses more than 13 million people, the sense of order and calm as everyone goes about their responsibilities with concern for others is remarkable. The Tokyo city streets are shockingly silent. You can hear the air, the machinery hums that run a city and the cars passing, but they don’t honk like NYC. I think I heard two honks the entire time in Tokyo, and that’s not an exaggeration. We drove the interstates a ton on our tour, all over the country... aggressive driving doesn’t seem to exist. Could this be from their Zen culture?

Also, they don’t bump into you trying to get on the subway in a hurry. It’s an orderly line and gentle squeeze to fit everyone on the trains, like a can of sardines without the stink.

I want to throw in another aspect of “calm” here; safety.

Feeling safe, stable, and secure is central to our health and wellbeing. How safe we feel at home and in our neighborhood can influence our social habits and feeling of freedom. When we feel safe, we find it easier to relax, do all the things that comfort us, and focus on the work or study we need to do to help ensure our stability.

I’ve never felt safer anywhere in my life than when in Japan. I never worried about my purse or goods being stolen. Never worried about locking our apartment or car doors. Never got ogled at or hit upon. Wowza.

3. There’s no trash on the streets. And I mean zero. Not even cigarette butts. And it’s not like there are janitors sweeping the streets and alleys. To make this fact more amazing, it’s hard pressed to find trash bins anywhere. So where does a city of millions dispose of their goods while walking/biking about? Their pockets… until they reach home to throw in appropriate bins.

RETRACTION: One time we were walking under an over pass in Tokyo and we saw, gasp, trash. The remarkable thing was that this trash was piled neatly in a small pile, waiting anxiously to be picked up properly.

For an interesting article on Japan and the waste culture check out this article: https://www.weforum.org/agenda/2017/07/why-japanese-dont-litter/

4. They seem to really care about the planet.

And don’t just post about it on social media.

You won’t find paper towels anywhere, sans a few nice restaurants. Water waste is thoughtfully considered in everything they do it seems. Yes, even the toilet fill water after a flush is used as a sink to wash your hands before entering the tank. They line dry their clothes (like most of the world except America). They ride bicycles like it’s Amsterdam on steroids. There are even parking lots just for bikes. This eliminates the need for excess taxis on the streets (i.e. “fossil fuels”). I know this goes on all over the world, but I again, I’m sticking to Japan here.

5. Buddhism and Shintoism.

I have practiced Buddhism since my 20’s and see it as more of a mind set and lifestyle than a religion. So for me, I felt right at home in a country that houses over 77,000 temples (No typo there). Incense permeates the air, especially in Kyoto. Smelled like my house and I couldn’t have been happier about that aspect.

But it’s more than Buddhism. The main Japanese religion is Shintoism. Many Japanese people practice both. The beliefs are very compatible and not contradictory.

6. ROBOTIC TOILETS!

Japan has a magic thing called Toto Toilets. And the toilet culture there is really something to behold. I fell in love with their toilets and never once worried to sit on the public toilet seat. I can simply not go back to our classic Kohler again. Trust me, once you experience a heated seat, self-cleaning, massaging, butt-cleaning, “privacy sound”, hand-washing toilet all in one small package, you’ll never go back. Don’t know how to expand on this in a blog… just “go” try it for your self.

7. 7- Eleven heaven!

Yep, you heard this health advocate correctly. When you are looking for a healthy bite on the road or on the quick, there’s a 7-Eleven on every corner. And it’s not the 7-Eleven we know in this country at all! Made fresh daily veggie sushi, veggie rice “sandwiches”, miso soup, raw veggies, healthy drinks, tea, fairly healthy snacks if you are into the packaged food thing. All for super cheap. I cannot tell you what a lifesaver it was on the road for us when there were practically no healthy options. Also, we decided to add fish into our diet while in Japan, and certainly glad we did. I’ve never had better fish in my life. It really felt healthy. My nails are still shiny like they’ve been shellacked. Win win.

8. VENDING MACHINES!

Super convenient and anonymous, there are vending machines all over Japan (even in remote villages) that can get you most anything you need instantly: from fermented bean drinks to green tea to hot or cold coffee to fully cooked meals to used panties. Yep, the Japanese can get weird.

Ok, so maybe the last three points are less about culture, but I had to throw them in for the “wow” factor.

I could go on and on about Japan… it’s as wide and deep and old and beautiful as it’s countryside beacon Mt. Fuji. But it has its pitfalls too. No culture is perfect. I just prefer to focus on the ideals I look up to, rather than focusing on the negatives. Their negatives are no different than America’s: too much sugar and meat in the diet, it’s a highly misogynistic society, cigarettes, stressful six day work weeks with long hours, those darn plastic bags… But we all know those are WORLD WIDE ISSUES.

Japan, you definitely stole my heart. Thank you to all who came to our shows and to those that showed us your rare style of hospitality. And a huge special thanks to my tour manager, Gus Bennett, who introduced my husband and me to this beautiful country, showed us the ropes and helped us navigate into this great unknown that will certainly be with me forever.

Mata, chikai uchini, aeruto iine.

Photo credit: Marley Parker at ML Parker Media

[oshun67]

Our last day together in beautiful Maui , Hawaii. Her marriage ceremony was beautiful! She reminded me about our times in my apartment when she was a teenager , when we discussed slavery and the rebels who fought against it , especially the maroons in Jamaica, her birth place; Voodoo, Obeah, the history of same sex couples in Black communities, cooking, watching DVDs about the African Diaspora,and just providing her a safe space to be her authentic self. She loved hearing me discuss my skin maintenance and moisturizer tips! I am her gay parent and mentor. So proud of her as she has grown up, moved out of NYC, attended college, maintaining a balance and being herself. Her biological family loves and accepts her, which for many Caribbean lgbt folks isn’t always easy. It wasn’t a smooth journey for of acceptance for them, but she persevered and as a family they worked it out. Seeing her beautiful and supportive Jamaican family present at her destination wedding made me smile. The universal idea that all Caribbean people are homophobic is untrue. Her family proved that!