Here in Boca, we are a mere 40 miles from the border of Miami Dade County...but for all we venture there, it might as well be Venezuela...and in some parts it is! But this week cars full of loved ones have been making the trek on a daily basis because of this girl, Casey (aka KC, Casela, BasketCase) who is in the hospital in Miami. She would be the first to tell you in detail about the details of her surgery...it's the first of two surgeries to remove her colon and reattach something to something else (I never advanced beyond middle school biology). I don't know if anyone besides the insurance company has actually counted, but I would venture a guess that she has spent at least 40 days in the hospital since January. She's on a first-name basis with body parts most of us don't even know we have. She knows what ALL of the abbreviations on Grey's Anatomy and House mean. Her mother can make a nurse jump out of her white rubber shoes with the addition of "STAT" to any sentence. Her grandmother has located every possible mall, Target and kosher deli in a five mile radius of two different hospitals. And her friends have been nothing short of AMAZING!!! At the tender age of 11, not only has Casey endured an illness (ulcerative colitis) that is literally a pain in the A** (Casey would approve of this description!) but she has single-handedly educated her fellow 5th graders about the details of her illness, diagnostic testing and surgery. And they bop into her room full of respect but lacking any fear. Casey is still Casey...she's just attached to an IV pole.
I've told you about her siblings, Zach and Lindsay. And it goes without saying that Casey is a pretty heroic pre-teen. But it's her mom, Stacy, whose dedication, determination and stamina are legendary! She's been sleeping at the hospital, learning the lingo, interfacing with doctors, nurses, child life specialists (whose sole purpose seemed to Stacy to be to bring Casey DVD's) and of course treating them daily with donuts, bagels, etc. I was lucky enough to be at the hospital the other night with my daughter who is Casey's friend when Stacy was able to make a couple hour escape from her full-time medical profession. And being that we were in Miami, she felt Cuban food and a Mojito calling her name. When in Rome...
I called my Cuban friend for a recommendation and with that, my somewhat confusing new navigation system and my cursory memory of the streets of Miami, we found ourselves at Havana Miami. The first good sign was that no one in the entire place was speaking English! This is kind of like going into an Italian restaurant and seeing Tony and Carm sitting there.
We did our best to decipher the menu and not sound too stupid when we were ordering. Mojito, of course, is the same in every language. I talked Stacy out of ordering a pitcher, promising that she could get as many refills as she wanted and she was satisfied (although somehow I think she had visions of just her, a pitcher and a straw).
The food was excellent and the prices extremely reasonable. When was the last time you had dinner for two with drinks for less than $40? I don't think we could get out of Chili's for less than that!
After dinner we walked into the bar to have another drink before going back to the hospital. The lilting Cuban accents surrounded us and our utterly Anglo selves attracted a few stares. We noticed a patio so once we got our drinks we headed that way, seeing a table of elderly Cuban men (and inexplicably, one young, well-built black man) playing Domino's. With the enthusiasm and humor borne of a Mojito and a half, Stacy squealed, "Oh look! They're playing Mah Jongg!!!" Yes, we fit right in.
We sat out on the patio enjoying the tropical night air, the clicking of the dominoes, the indecipherable (to us) conversations and the wafting cigar smoke. After a few minutes, an older gentleman sitting nearby turned to us and said, "I hope this is OK to ask, but what are a couple of gringas like you doing in a place like this?" Stacy, nearing the bottom of Mojito #2, didn't skip a beat and said, "We were looking for Boca and got lost!" The people at our table chatted with us a bit and for a couple hours Stacy got to be the red-haired gringa amongst the Cubans instead the "stat"-spouting hospital mom she's been lately.
If you are ever in Miami, don't be intimidated if you don't speak the prevalent language...you will be greeted with open arms and accepted into the world of Cuban-Americans that is such a huge part of Miami's ambience. And, since I can't resist being a little political, I can't help but think that with Castro's eventual demise, perhaps we will have the chance to meet and engage with even more Cubans and maybe even be able to visit their beautiful country and reach out a hand of friendship and support.
Casey is recovering well and looking forward to going home in the next day or two. I'm researching how the hell to make a Mojito so I can make them for Stacy. It looked to me like a bagged salad topped with vodka...but she tells me it's rum and maybe the green stuff isn't just Romaine lettuce!
Di
Comments