Perspective from Junot Díaz’s mom in “This is how you lose her”.

Dear sister,

Moving to this country, my hopes were high; I

thought we were coming for a better life, learn a new language, and a new

culture. Instead I’m learning that the states are a whole new world. This place

is not a world I like. The people here aren’t that friendly and look like they

haven’t seen the sun in centuries. It’s always snowing and we want to go out to

play in the snow but my husband says we have to stay inside and avoid the

people here. He makes it seem like they are going to hurt us for having the

audacity to live here. The food is made by me, sometimes, but lacks a certain

ingredient like the Dominican air, maybe?  I love my boy’s but it feels

like I’m stuck in my own home with my hijo’s like how grandma caged the hen’s

with her chicks so that they wouldn’t run away. I can feel them yearning to

explore and their knowledge being halted by the winter snow. I can’t stand the

rooster but I never say anything, le tengo miedo. Is it love if I’m afraid? It

can’t be love! He doesn’t enchant me how he used to. You know what that means,

hermana, the sex life is dead. How could I when he’s never home anyway. Add on

that dead life and I know he’s having an affair. These men will lay

in bed with anything with a pulse. I knew it was coming I just never imagined

myself without one but now that I’m in America; who knows maybe I’ll end up

with a gringo that’ll treat me like a human. I know what you’re thinking

hermana I should be grateful to have a husband and sons. I’m a woman, a wife,

and a mother; I’m living the dream. I’m so sorry but this dream feels like a

nightmare. Is this my only purpose in life? Living in America and not speaking

the language of the gringo? I mean, I tried to learn but the rooster reminded

me there’s no way. I feel stupid for even thinking I could learn a new

language. I can’t even mouth the English words on the television correctly. I

try but I don’t let myself actually learn it because even if I did learn it I’d

probably forget it with my woman brain.  I miss the sun. I miss my sister’s. I miss

myself. I feel like I’m fucking going nuts! Why do people literally die trying to

come here? I should have died on the trip here because that would’ve been

better than letting my soul die once I got here. May God forgive me but, my

body keeps functioning but inside I’m numb. I hope the rooster leaves me. I know

if he leaves I’ll be able to explore and have freedom. If I leave him I’ll be

labeled a harlot, you know that. Let’s pray to the Virgen de la Altagracia that

when he said it’ll be better when the snow ends that the ending will be a

glorious beginning.