Bachata

community. I would hear them talk amongst each other, and I felt comfortable in this new place because I could understand them and didn’t feel like an outcast. Weekend mornings were the best because as soon as I would wake up, I could hear the sounds of bachata, merengue, and salsa setting a joyful tone for the rest of the day. When you walked outside, everyone surprisingly knew each other. It was as if everyone that lived in Jamaica were all from one big family. Everywhere I would go they would…

Ten years ago summers for the children of Bushwick promised many things. Some things nostalgic; Puerto Rican Day parades, celebrations of American and Dominican Independence days, cookouts on the sidewalk, people watching on the once-deteriorating stoops, hip hop pulsing through passing car’s speakers, cherry-flavored piraguas, bathing in the refreshing cold water spewing from open fire hydrants. Some things, such as rampant gang violence and the sounds of police helicopters circling the…

Neha Patel AMST 135: Section 10322 Professor Alicia Chavez Essay 1 November 14, 2017 The Role of Gender Norms, Sexuality, and Diaspora within Dominican Culture Through The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, Junot Diaz explores the presence of various conflicts between personal and community identity within the culture of the Dominican Republic. Within the book, these conflicts are presented through the experiences and interactions of many characters who struggle with identifying their beliefs…

Once and for all I am finally here, standing right in front of this coffee-colored building, with my eyes wide open and my body shaking from head to toes. What I am currently witnessing is something out of this world, nothing like what I was expecting, but so much better. Where I come from, the food is amazing, Cuban food, it is certainly one of my favorite and being at the world 's oldest Spanish and Cuban restaurant is unrealistic. Being excited is not my thing, you see, nothing really…

My Dominican identity has transplanted across borders from the impoverish dirt roads of Sabana Perdida, Dominican Republic to the vibrant streets of Washington Heights, and the multi-ethnic cultural neighborhood of Bushwick Brooklyn. I learned very early on in life that I was Dominicana. The vivid memories of my mom chasing after me with a chancleta (rubber slippers) or a palo (broom stick), the daily routine of eating Los Tres Golpes (mangu, salami and fried cheese) for breakfast, lunch and…