Recollections and reconnections: Cuban nicknames and insults
<p>I didn’t remember that last one. It sounded vaguely aquatic. I responded: <em>Moraima? WTF is Moraima?</em></p>
<p>He wrote back: <em>Erik’s mom!</em></p>
<p>I laughed, realizing I was staring at a mom-joke that lay dormant for decades. Our shared adolescence had woken from a deep slumber. Each message that came through had the same jolting effect as a shot of espresso from <em>La Carreta</em> on Bird, where many Cuban fathers would convene for <em>café</em>, a cigarette, and a dramatic, hands-waving analysis of the state of our disunion. They were normal conversations that would easily be mistaken for vicious arguments anywhere north of Hialeah.</p>
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