The Prince of Los Cocuyos: A Miami Childhood

Blanco uses family vacations to illustrate some of the struggles of his immigrant parents. At the police station, Papá is almost fawningly compliant, answering the questions put to him with a repetitive:, “…Jess…Jess…” (88). Stopping at the service plaza on the way to Disney World, Caco must translate Papá’s English for the clerk, who comments that “[y]ou people need to get to learning English” (82). Papá leaves “humiliated” (82) after the clerk puts his change on the counter “as if he were loath to touch Papá’s hand” (82). At the restaurant, “Mamá and Papá were at [their]our mercy,”” (82), frightened to “engage anyone without [them]us as backup translators” (82).

Their conspicuousness embarrasses Blanco and Caco. When his parents blast Cuban music from Papá’s beloved Malibu, Blanco laments that “[t]he sound track in the car didn’t match” (80) the American scenery. He and Caco pretend not to know their parents as the bellhop in the hotel lugs his mother’s cooking equipment and Cuban groceries. Their parents are brazenly loud on the rides, a guide on the Jungle Cruise has to scold Mamá for being rowdy, and during the Hall of Presidents presentation, Papá “let[s] out two sharp whistles for his favorite president” (96), Richard Nixon.

Despite these difficulties, Mamá and Papá are proud to be Americans, and they eagerly pursue the American dream. In the Hall of Presidents, his parents sit “mesmerized” (95) and intent. In Miami, they watch the Fourth of July fireworks “waving tiny American flags” (148). Papá worked 12twelve-hour days for two years to afford el Malibú and left the car dealership “teary-eyed,” having purchased “his first car in America” (80). He’s compulsive about washing it, “stroking the dashboard softly, memorizing its beauty” (81) as he does so—inspiring Mamá to complain that “[h]e pampered el Malibú more than he did” (81) her. Importantly, upon discovering Blanco’s melted crayons in the backseat, Papá orders him to scrape the mess up with a knife, scolding,: “Everything is ruined, cojones—everything” (107). To Papá, el Malibú is everything he’s worked for; it’s as representative of America as Disney is to Blanco, a symbol of his belonging among constant reminders of his otherness. His family’s desire to partake in the joys of American life despite the obstacles is a reminder of how America is seen as the land of opportunity.

Following Blanco’s confusion over his parents’ appreciation of the Hall of Presidents—he wondersasks,: “After all their talk about missing their wonderful lives back in Cuba, how could they be so fascinated by my country’s presidents?” (96). This sentiment —is reminiscent of his claim in Chapter 1 that the flavors of the Cuban and American foods taste terrible when blended together. Too young yet to fully understand the beauty of identifying with both cultures, he feels lost, simultaneously seeking connection with his Cuban roots and yearning for a purely American experience. Despite his embarrassment regarding his parents’ Cubanness, Blanco doesn’t quite feel American. In Miami, his cousinse is excluded by his cousins him, but he doesn’t quite fit in with the adults, either—creating a sense of not belonging that mirrors the homelessness he feels in regards to his culture. This feeling of being lost is what attracts him to Yetta, who claims to be “a little from everywhere” (126). Yetta, too, is in limbo: living in a hotel, she seems to exist between two worlds, telling Blanco stories of a glamorous old Miami that over time has ceased to exist.

However, Yetta accepts, and even appreciates, being from everywhere. When Blanco tells her he sometimes feels Cuban, sometimes American, and sometimes “like nothing,”” (145), Yetta assures him that she feels Polish, American, and “even a little cubana” (145) on different days—and that being a little from everywhere is “not so bad” (145). Yetta’s comment that “Jews are spread out all over the world—just like you Cubans” (137) is reminiscent of Blanco’s realization that his parents in fact have a lot in common with the Pilgrims. Even Blanco’s observation that Yetta’s nostalgia for old Miami carries “the same undertow of sadness” (139) in his parents’ voices “whenever they spoke about their lives back in Cuba” (139) teaches that even the most different people are alike. That night, watching the fireworks and listening to his family discuss how long they’ve been in America—tío Paquito even says that “[s]ometimes I forget where I am from anymore” (148)—Blanco blends images of the people in his life: Yetta’s husband dances with his cousins, his mother is a Polish child, and Yetta rides with Papá in his Malibu. His envisioning these blended identities indicates that he’s closer to seeing the different parts of himself as one ,and closer to embracing it.

Blanco feels similarly in limbo regarding another aspect of his identity. Abuela’s criticisms of his behavior—her insistence that he act like un hombre—are ever present in his mind. At Disney World, Blanco finds himself nearly skipping toward Cinderella’s castle, but checks himself when he thinks of Abuela’s chiding. Back home, he worries she’ll throw out his new Mickey Mouse doll. Abuela doesn’t let him hold tía Elisa’s vanity case, which isn’t for “un hombre.” Perhaps most importantly, after his visit to the craft store Diamond’s, which he describes as “a Garden of Eden” (71), Abuela confiscates his cherished rug-making kit, issuing a warning she will repeat throughout his life: “Iit’s better to be it and not look like it, than to look like it even if you are not it” (72). Though aAt the time, he doesn’t know exactly what “it” means, but Blanco understands that it referred to “all the things [he]I enjoyed for which she constantly humiliated [him]me” (72). Blanco finds himself not only questioning where he’s from but also who he is, and the pain of being told he should be something he isn’t is a thread following him through the entire book.

In the midst of these serious considerations, Blanco intersperses examples of typical childhood, describing in great detail his wonder at seeing Disney for the first time and his joy at receiving a special Mickey Mouse doll his mother bought for him by his mother. Blanco’s parents may not have been born in America, but their family is like many American families: the boys wrestle, Mamá keeps a tote bag filled with emergency items, and Papá cherishes his car. It’s one more way Blanco suggests that despite our differences, people we have more in common than one we may think.