Communal Life

Writing about a Hispanic Communal Life

Sandra Cisneros

Sandra Cisneros is an American author best known for her novel The House on Mango Street. Being the daughter of a Chicana (Mexican -American), Cisneros was excused from traditional domestic duties like cooking, cleaning, and babysitting, allowing her the time to study, read, and discover her love in writing. However, this did not entirely separate Cisneros from the Mexican culture as she witnessed the poverty, sexism, discrimination, and domestic violence among Mexican-American women. 

After winning the Before Columbus American Book Award in 1985, Sandra Cisneros answered an interview in which she declared that if she were asked what she writes about she would respond with, “about those ghost inside that haunt me.” Cisneros was not referring to invisible spirits; she was referring to poverty, sexism, racism/discrimination, and the domestic violence experienced by Mexican-American women.

From the beginning of her career, Cisneros set herself apart from other writers by writing about that which is does not radiate from television sets across the nation. Inspired by her impoverished childhood and the characters that populated her past, Cisneros saw the Mexican culture as something worth writing about, especially because growing up, she always felt a sense of loss, never full feeling like she belonged to either culture.

Today, Cisneros has won the hearts of her readers by collaging characters and stories in revolutionary, yet honest ways, with an honest voice, with beauty, experimentation in style, and simplicity of language. She best empowers her readers through her varied character personalities who lack power, socially, politically, economically, and sexually.

  The House on Mango Street

If there is one story that truly captures a Latino communal life it is The House on Mango Street, a series of vignettes that traces the life of a young twelve year old Chicana, Esperanza (Spanish for hope) Cordero. It is about a girl who moves onto the house on Mango Street with her family, a home that is a big improvement from the previous, yet still not the one Esperanza dreamed of. The house is run-down, crowded, and in the center of a crowded Latino neighborhood in Chicago, a city where the poor are racially segregated. Due to lack of privacy, Esperanza resolves to one day leave the house on Mango Street and have a house of her own.

Basically, the novel charts Esperanza’s life as she matures significantly, both sexually and emotionally, as she makes new friends, grows hips, develops her first crush, endures sexual assault, and uses her writing as a way to escape her neighborhood. Also, the series of vignettes explores the stories of the neighbors and gives a full picture of the neighborhood and the many possible paths Esperanza’s future may possibly follow. For example, the series of vignettes strings together stories and experiences of older women in the neighborhood who are stuck in their houses. It is these close observations that cement Esperanza’s desires to escape the house on Mango Street.

It short, The House on Mango Street is the story of a girl who is determined to say “goodbye” to her impoverished neighborhood, on a quest for a better life, but who comes to learn the importance to come back for “the ones I left behind.” 

Literature and Food in The House on Mango Street 

It is not hard to pick up on the many themes The House on Mango Street explores. The novel explores the crowded communal lives among Hispanic populations. We learn about the importance of family, celebrations, of a life that lacks privacy, about the life of girls who mature only to become a piece of meat appealing to the eye and how they feel about it, about older women and their life as a housewife’s, and other themes worth making sense of. However, because food is a big part of the Hispanic population, what role does food play in The House of Mango Street?   

Food

The few times we see food in The House on Mango Street, we are clued to an aspect of somebody’s character. As I previously mentioned, Cisneros is known to best draw her readers in through her varied character personalities. Among my favorite connections with food and character traits are as follow: 

Ruthie: Ruthie is childish grown up who is very fond of candy. She enjoys spending her time playing with Esperanza and her friends, while her mom, is a landlady who lives next-door and ignores her. Clearly, her love for candy parallels her immaturity (possible reasons why her mom pays little attentions to her…since once a Hispanic women matures into womanhood expectations await).

Papa: Papa is Esperanza’s dad. He is from Mexico and is less authoritarian that other father figures in the neighborhood; however, he works most of the time and is never home. For three months, Papa consumes nothing but “hamandeggs,” revealing his status as an immigrant who does not know English.

Esperanza: is the narrator and her name stands for “hope.” During her school lunch breaks, Esperanza goes home for lunch. One day, she is allowed to stay at school for lunch. Her lunch consists of a rice sandwich, hinting at how her family does not have any meat and money. This also shows Esperanza’s feelings of humiliation in front of her schoolmates.

Rafaela: is a woman in the neighborhood whose husband is afraid she will run off so he locks her up in their apartment. Rafaela sends money down a clothesline to Esperanza and her friends so they can buy her sweet juices from the convenient store, such as papaya and coconut juice. This of course shows the method she uses to get her sweet juices, but her need for sweet juices also show her confinement and desire for consolation. 

The House on Mango Street and My Feelings

When you are Mexican-American, and you read about the story of a Chicana, it is so easy to relate to the experiences and emotions expressed.

When it comes to The House on Mango Street, I can relate to a lot, but especially to the author and Esperanza, the protagonist of the story.

First of all, I relate to the author. As I mentioned, growing up, Cisneros experienced a sense of loss, never fully feeling like she belonged to either culture and her book clearly traces this sense of feeling “in-between.” Having been born in America, yet growing up by Mexican parents, my life growing was also “in-between.” I grew up consuming Mexican food, knowing I had to clean, cook, and babysit. It made sense to me as a young girl. I did not complain because I saw it as normal, as part of life. There was no way out. “Learn to cook, clean, and sew, so when you grow hips a nice hardworking man will want to marry you. You guys can have kids and live happily ever after.” I was never told this; it was something I realized through an education. As I matured, spent time around American households, and observed the role women played in a Hispanic household, my views changed. I was not longer proud of my Mexican heritage, but angry and ashamed of the way women were viewed. Today, I understand that because I have an education, I want to be seen as more than a piece of meat, more than a mom, more than someone who knows how to clean and cook. But, I also know I want to be a good mom and wife, a trait exemplified by my mom.

Not only do I relate to Cisneros, but to her heroine, Esperanza and her feelings towards to her dad. Esperanza makes it clear that her dad is not as dominant as other father figures in the neighborhood, but also that he is rarely home. In Hispanic cultures, men tend to take on a “machismo” way of life or a stand in which they only feel in control if the women is the housewife and he the one who brings the money home and controls the household. The fact that Esperanza’s dad does not heavily take on this role is good, but the fact that he is always working means his wife is the housewife nonetheless. Growing up, this idea of “machismo” played a big role in the life of those around me. My dad was never very authoritarian, but he does believe in a woman’s responsibility to clean and cook. He, for one, loves to come home to a warm plate after a long hard day at work. My dad and I have had some good discussions over this, though I do respect him for working hard, I also believe a father is someone who does more than bring food to the table (something I will argue many of my uncles fail to consider). 

My Transition 

It has been three years since I moved out of the house to go to the university. When I tell my mom I miss her she says, “Do you miss me or my cooking?” I struggle to answer. I miss them both, but in different ways. 

Since my university years, my friends try to comfort my need for Mexican food by taking me to Taco Bell, Chipotle, or Tortillas. They watch me take a bite of a chicken stuffed burrito and ask, “Is it good?” I laugh and reply, “It’s good. It is just not the same.”

To me authentic Mexican food does not come in cans or boxes. It is not a meal you go out and eat at a fast food restaurant after a long day at work. To me authentic Mexican food is one that is laboriously prepared, one that you go home to after a long day at work to eat, savor, and share. 

But, I know I will not have authentic Mexican food at my university dorm, unless I cook it. I do cook sometimes when I go over to my friend’s house because they have a kitchen I can make use of. Every time I cook for my friends at the university, they are blown away. I thank them, but I am not satisfied. I did not enjoy the process. I can’t enjoy the meal.

No one understand what I mean when I say, “I miss them both just in different ways” or “It is good.  It is just not the same.”

My friends did not get it last night.

Last Nights Meal:

A Bean dip

I had a small group gathering last night at my friend’s house. She made bean dip. Basically, she pulled out a baking pan, tossed in some canned beans, sour cream, and sprinkled some cheddar cheese on top. She stuck the baking pan into the microwave for five minutes and we ate “Mexican food.”

In case you are wondering, an authentic Mexican food consisting of beans would look something like this:

But before the beans become edible they went through a process that looked like this:

 At my house, we buy huge bags of raw beans. Each bag costs about fifty U.S. dollars, but it is money well spent because we eat a side of beans with most meals. 

But it is not the price that matters, it is the process that is important to me. Raw beans take approximately five hours to cook. After they are baked, we have some for dinner, and we store the remaining in a container and refrigerate them. We will finish consuming them within the next three to four days.When they are gone, my mom and I know it is time cook up another pot of beans. Typically, my mom will wash dishes, or cook lunch, while I pick out the beans we are going to cook. We talk, we laugh, and we talk and laugh some more.This is part of the process we go through when baking beans. 

That is what I mean when I tell my mom, “I miss them both just in different ways,” or when I tell my friends, “It is good. It is just not the same.”

To me authentic Mexican food is one that takes time to cook because it is my chance to bond with my mom. My mom and I become best friends in the kitchen.