Cuetes*

I know all boys love firecrackers. But really, my boys use them in ways I could never have imagined, having grown up in a family of girls. I'm not sure if they developed their close relationship to firecrackers because we live here on the border where they are so commonly used to express feelings of "celebration" or simply because it is in their genes and they have been fortunate to land in this culture that encourages their innate desire to shoot off loud little red sticks. In fact explosions are a constant theme in the Mitchell-Bennett back yard, but I digress. That is fodder for another post.

When we lived in West Brownsville, a center of  firecracker-shooting universe, my boys spent hours roving the neighborhood barefoot and shirtless looking for "unexploded leftovers" the day after celebrations. 16 de Septiembre, Halloween/Dia de los Muertos, Christmas, New Years, Easter, Fourth of July, etc. all convert the quiet Hawthorne Street into a chaotic, smokey, war zone serenaded by blaring ranchera music. Adults drink and BBQ,  toddlers in diapers wander the streets aimlessly while packs of pre-pubesant boys huddle and disperse as firecrackers in cans, bottles, stuck into oranges, and taped together into dynamite size bundles explode everywhere. It is really great fun, yet if you landed in our neighborhood for the first time, unaware of the joy this kind of celebration brings, your reaction may be to call the police, child protective services, the army, the marines and an ambulence.

Both the police and the Migra (Border Patrol) frequent West Brownsville during firecracker off-season, really on a daily basis. Yet they stay away during these explosive nights, perhaps knowing that while deporting and arresting in this part of town is their job, even poor undocumented folks don't deserve to have such joy interrupted.

Now that we have moved to a more "upscale" neighborhood, we don't get to enjoy this all-out expression of boyness as frequently, yet my sons continue to find creative ways to bring that spirit to our country-club community, much to the chagrin of our neighbors. So today, no particular holiday, and not even a weekend, I was enjoying the convergence of tropical and shore birds in my backyard with a cup of cafe Bustelo while my daughter peacefully colored by my side. I spotted pink spoon bills, kiskadees, herons, ibis, pelicans, wild parrots and sea gulls. I was suddenly shaken from my tranquility by a series of gun shot sounding blasts. The birds took flight at once. It was quite spectacular as their wings blended in a blur of color in the sky. Birds gone, boys yelling "awesome", banana stuffed with five firecrackers--exploded on our driveway. Cuetes forever!

*firecrackers