Better late than never! After nearly 2 years, we finally took a break to celebrate family and friends last week up in Lake Tahoe, CA. It was great to getaway and enjoy this amazing place, especially given how COVID kept us all away until recently, but unfortunately that put the magazine on pause, and we fell a few days behind. Our apologies. You may question internally, why could someone not step up in one’s absence, well, as a tiny non-profit, we don’t always have the people power to have folks cover for the good work, but we know you understand, and we will do our very best to get back as close to on track as we can, though there are other important trips, for The Beat later this year, but we’ll worry about that later…. That said, we welcome you readers back to another powerful double issue, 26.2728, of the one and only, The Beat Within. This is the only magazine out there keeping it one thousand for everyone in the community, inside and out! Without further ado, lets hand the keyboard over to our dear friend, OT to take this ed note to the next level! OT!
Greetings! This is OT reporting live to you from home of the grand lakes and the land that quakes, Managua Nicaragua. Summertime is here for you all, and summertime is here for me all through the year! So, now for you readers that may be complaining that it’s too hot in your area, well for me, it’s hot every day!
For this issue, many of you wrote about grandparents. Many of you made me stroll down memory lane and think about my own grandma, even though I don’t get to see my grandma much, except maybe once a month on FaceTime because she lives in the Bay Area, and I’m here all the way in Nicaragua.
Man, oh man, where do I start with my grandma, Doña Zoila (Mrs. Zoila). My grandma recently turned 94 years old this past April. Very blessed to live that long, but I’m not surprised though, because as long as I’ve known her (I’m 36), she has been a very strong woman. My grandma is one of those legendary figures out here in my neighborhood. The people who have live on my block (I’m referring to my residence in Nicaragua) every time I see them, they always ask about my grandma and how she’s doing. I’ve been here about nine years now.
So, I bump into my neighbors obviously when I’m leaving my house to run an errand or going to the store. They always ask, “How’s your grandma doing? Is she okay?”
The majority of them are somewhat surprised when I tell them she’s doing good (still alive) and she hasn’t gotten COVID. So even though, my grandma has like about close to 30 years not living in Nicaragua, everyone still remembers her as a stand-up woman. I’ve heard plenty of stories about my grandma.
During the civil war in Nicaragua, in the neighborhood where my family lived, right here at my grandma’s house, where I was born, and now I live here again, they say my grandma would, stand guard all night with her machete, while all her kids (my mom, my uncles, my aunts), would be hiding under the tables. Gun shots and sounds from automatic rifles, could be heard all night, with even a few stray bullets zipping through the house. But my grandma, ever the mama Hen, never wavered and was right there protecting all of her six children, plus me!
She wouldn’t sleep and stay up all night drinking coffee because burglars would try to break in the home. She would scare burglars away with that machete, and these are stories that have been confirmed from my mom, my aunt and neighbors as well. Story has it, she chased a couple burglars with the machete, that were trying to break in the house, so my grandma, wasn’t no punk!
My grandma raised six kids on her own. Her very own parents had abandoned her at a very young age. She didn’t have any help from any man, or child support, or any help from any type of government aid. My grandma would fly to Panama and buy hella clothes and bring them back to sell in a war-torn country where materials like clothes, shoes, jewelry, hats, food brands from other countries, weren’t coming into Nicaragua because of the war. My grandma, would cook and sell food, make tamales, sell ice, sell fruit drinks, all just to support the family, including me. She would buy me my milk and clothes. So, she wasn’t just supporting her kids, she was also supporting her grandkids, because by this time my girl cousin was born too, (my aunt’s daughter).
So, my grandma, she did a lot.
My mom and I lived in a two-bedroom apartment with all my aunts and uncles and cousins and my grandma. There was ten people all together in a two- bedroom. I used to sleep on the floor on a mattress with my uncle. We were poor growing up, but not too poor as all the adults in the household worked.
Since everyone worked all day, that left my grandma to take care of all the kids, which would be me, my cousin (who is a year younger than me) and my sister who is six-years younger than me. My grandma, would wake us up for school, help us out with breakfast, but not only make it for us, teach us how to make ourselves our own coffee, sandwiches, eggs, toast, etc. She always had us wash our plates as soon as we were done eating. There was none of that washing the dishes later. We never had dirty dishes in our household because of that.
My grandma taught us manners, like how to stay out of grown folk conversations. She taught us when to speak, when not to speak, to say excuse me before we interrupt anyone, and how to greet people when we would go to stranger’s houses. My grandma taught us how to iron our clothes the night before school. She taught us how to crease up our pants, how to crease up our button up shirts, and made sure we organized and folded our clothes right. My grandma was strict, but she allowed us to play outside after we came home from school until the head honchos came home, which was my aunt and her husband, which was around 5 pm.
When I used to play sports, not just out in the streets, but I was in an organized baseball league, and I was in a basketball league too. Sometimes, I would get sprained ankles, and my grandma would be the one to massage my ankle at night and bandage it. If I was sick, she would give me cough syrup and rub my chest with Vapor Rub.
During the summer, she would play cards with us, hang with us, tell us stories about Nicaragua, and also spank us when we misbehaved (which was quite often).
As I grew older, and started getting in trouble, my grandma would always tell me. “Those aren’t your friends.”
She would try to give me advice, but I wouldn’t listen. She would sometimes scare away homeboys when they would come pick me up from the house, by waiting on the porch and when my homeboys showed up, she would start wildly swinging a broom at them. It’s funny now that I reminisce on it. My homeboys would say, “Damn, your grandma crazy!”
Out of respect for my grandma, they would wait down the street for me to avoid problems. Now that I look back on it, my grandma was just trying to protect me from the streets. My grandma was always there for me, even though as we got older, we would argue, but one thing I never did was cuss at her or yell at her, or disrespect her in anyway.
My mom would ask her what time I came home the night before and if I came home at 2am, my grandma would say 4am, further getting me more in trouble with my mom. Then I would tell my mom that she was lying (exaggerating) that I came home at 2am, but obviously that was still too late for a young kid to be coming home at that time.
My grandma struggled to try to keep me in check, but when I got my own job, she would always make food for me, or have food for me after I came home from work. She would still teach me manners, as an adolescent teen, manners that I use to this very day. She taught me that when someone invites you over to their house for dinner that you wash your plate, and all the other dirty dishes that would be at the sink.
Every time people have invited me to lunch or dinner here in Nicaragua, people would be surprised when I wash all their dishes. Most of them would tell me their kids don’t even wash their own plates. So, the deported guy, the convicted felon, the outsider has manners, thanks to my grandma.
My grandma used to say, “Don’t leave the things that you can do today for tomorrow, because tomorrow ain’t promised.”
So, I’m here to tell you all, don’t count your days and instead make your days count. Tell your grandparents how much you love them and how much you appreciate them every chance you get. So, this one goes out to all the grandmothers (and grandfathers) out there, as they are the backbone and foundation of this world.
I want to close this out by saying (te amo abuelita con todo mi corazón) I love you grandma with all of my heart, Zoila Morales Cortez. I am the man I am today because of you. I hope you’re proud.
OT signing out! One love for everyone going through the struggle, and one love to all the grandparents out there!
You deliver a beautiful tribute to your grandmother, OT! Thank you for sharing with us. We welcome your wonderful stories about the important family members and friends in your life. Please don’t hesitate to share, we are listening!
All right, we hope you enjoy this amazing issue of writing and art from our dear friends, inside and out! Stay in touch with The Beat, there I always a place for you.