Abuelita's Birthday
Earlier tonight I joined a zoom birthday call for my grandmother in Peru. I am not really sure how old she is turning. She wasn’t sure either. The internet connectivity was not always strong and my uncle – whom everyone called “technician” tonight – didn't hold the phone steady nor ensure the camera focused on abuelita. We got views of the ceiling and the floor.
Earlier in the day, one of my uncles sent me a message with the zoom call details. I knew I wanted to join – Peru and my maternal family has been on my mind lately. I think some family members were surprised that I joined. They immediately asked me “como estas?”, “y tu mama?” - this question almost always means where is she now? And why isn’t she with you? Or why aren’t you with her? Whenever I remind them that I don’t live with my mom and that in fact, I am a couple of hours away it always takes them by surprise. In our culture, we value family so much that a multi-generational household is a norm. But this is a subject for another post.
One aunt and one uncle took the time to congratulate me on my recent wedding. I appreciated their kind words. I was surprised. I thought they were going to call me “ingrata.” Ingrate. Ungrateful. My grandma did call me that though. That’s her being herself. “Ingrata” is thrown around when someone doesn’t bother to stay connected with you despite being family or friend. Does the word hurt? Only because it’s true.
I haven’t done a good job at staying connected to my family in Peru. I came to the U.S. when I was a kid – in the mid-90s. International communication was expensive. We had internet. They didn’t. Then, I focused on school, college, excelling in my first job, grad school, etc. Sometimes, I even use my parents’ lack of effort as justification for my own. My mom didn’t have a good relationship with her siblings in Peru. So, she is not particularly eager to go the extra mile to connect. My dad – mostly stays in touch with his side of the family.
Another excuse was remittances. There was a time when family members in Peru would frequently ask me to let them borrow money. And I did. I quickly learned to whom I could lend. For the rest, I just assumed I was giving them a monetary gift - never to see again. I became stricter with lending or giving money to family; I have my own goals to worry about. Not wanting to be asked for money and not wanting to say “no” kept me away from connecting with my cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandma in Peru.
Another excuse I frequently use is: “we have nothing to talk about.” I have been in the U.S. for over two decades. I grew up here – yes, with a Peruvian culture at home and an American multicultural society. Could my family in Peru really understand what I am experiencing here?
I am not only in a different country, speaking a different language. I am on an entirely different economic level. I felt guilty. Guilty for being lucky enough to have opportunities that they probably won’t. Guilty for not being able to help them out more. Guilty for thinking about my own goals instead of the family “I left” behind.
Another excuse: “I don’t have the bandwidth.” I don’t have unlimited emotional bandwidth or unlimited energy. How can I have strong relationships with everyone here and there? Can I really do something about the social justice issues in the U.S. and in Peru? Can I make an impact here AND there? I have tried to pick a side - solely focusing on Peru. I tried solely focusing on the U.S. But something was always missing. My mistake was having an “all-or-nothing" mentality.
Launching the Peruvians of USA podcast forces me to stay connected to my country. At first, in a very lighthearted way – talking about food, music, etc. Now, it’s evolving to talking about history, politics, and social issues. Peruvians in the U.S. want to learn more, get involved, and stay connected with the motherland.
On the zoom birthday call, I could see that one of my uncles (tio Bita) had arrived at my grandma’s house. He waved at the camera and greeted me. I excitedly leaned in on my laptop. And I felt a wave of nostalgia - for my childhood in Peru. The joy I felt seeing my uncle was the same I felt when I was a kid. He didn’t have a lot of money, but I was his favorite niece and he spoiled me whenever he could. As I waved goodbye, he seemed really happy that I called him. I could feel his love and appreciation via the video call.
Jumping on a zoom call to celebrate my abuelita’s life has reminded me that:
I can still choose to connect with my extended family. They don’t hold my distance (physically and emotional) against me – but they might still call me “ingrata” from time to time
If it was painful for me to leave my extended family, it probably was sad for them to see me go. My uncles used to tell me that grandma’s house “got quiet” all of a sudden
Connecting with family abroad doesn’t have to require 100% of my time or energy
My mother’s battles are not mine
The best contribution I can give them is keeping them in my life
They helped shape the person I am today