Of Mochilas and Sopa de Caracol

We play children’s music at our place during what feels like every waking hour. I function best when I have some background noise, my boys love it, and very early on I realized that it would be an effortless, fun way to expose them to more Spanish. So most of the children’s music I play is in Spanish, usually until my husband can’t take it anymore and begs me to play anything—anything!—in English.

I’ve tried to build up a collection of non-screechy music that both my kids and I enjoy, but as much as I love José Luis Orozco, Cri-Cri and Suni Paz, you can really only play your selection of children’s CDs so many times before you feel like you just can’t take it anymore. I sneak in some NPR on the Metro and listen to music when I’m alone in the car, but I started to miss the days when I used to blast the music just for the sake of blasting it, the days when I would sing along and dance around the living room for no reason at all, except that the music energized me and made me happy.

Then I had the simplest, most obvious of revelations: My boys can enjoy my music, too. In fact, when I think about the music of my childhood, I think not of the children’s records that I used to put on the record player over and over again, but rather of the folk music my mother used to play, music by the Chad Mitchell Trio and Peter, Paul and Mary. I bought those albums as an adult, because they reminded me so much of my childhood and I couldn’t imagine not owning them. And although my boys enjoy our children’s CDs, I want them to remember my music, too. I want them to hear a song thirty years from now and remember dancing around the living room with their Mama.

Right now we’re very much into Latin music, the catchier the better. Our current (eclectic) playlist:

El Tiburón by Proyecto Uno. This is their absolute favorite, for some reason. You go un poquito más suave and then un poquito más duro, and chant about chocolate and canela.

Mi bombón by Cabas. It’s all about the teléfono going ring-ring and the corazón going ton-ton. Love it.

Limón y sal by Julieta Venegas. This is our mellow song, the one I rock my babies (who are no longer babies) to on the couch or in bed. When I’m old and gray, this I will still remember.

Color esperanza by Diego Torres, the MTV Unplugged version. I’m not too choosy about the song lyrics when I pick songs for our playlists (unless there are any words in the song I don’t want them to learn), but this song is positively uplifting. I first heard it as background music to a Special Olympics video montage and it made me cry. Plus, you’ve got to love the carnaval-style drums in the middle, and Diego busts out with some Portuguese, too.

Cha cha by Chelo. Just plain catchy.

Querida by Juan Gabriel. If there was ever a song that begs to be sung out loud with feeling, this is it.

Sopa de caracol by Banda Blanca. The best thing about this song is you can totally make up the lyrics, and then just shout, “Sopa de caracol—¡JE!” every so often. Cracks them up every time.

No tengo dinero by Kumbia Kings

Anything by Juanes, but especially La paga and A Dios le pido. I’ve made sure that the boys can recognize Juanes on his album covers.

La pollera colorá by Charlie Zaa. Just because I like it.

Mi cacharrito by Roberto Carlos. An oldie but goodie that brings back memories for me.

Pelo suelto by Gloria Trevi. It's pretty much an excuse to shake your head around like a madwoman and get your hair looking as wild as possible.

La de la mochila azul by Pedrito Fernández. Because the boys love their mochilas. And God help me, rancheras are growing on me!

So, what am I missing? Any grown-up music that your kids love? I’m always looking for more ideas.

Add Me to the List!

My name is Keen (or at least, that’s what I go by on the Internet), and I’m thrilled to be a part of this blog, and in such good company, too!

When people ask me where I’m from, I size them up and try to figure out if they want the short version or the long version. The short, evasive version is this: I live in the D.C. area. But the long version is: I was born in Costa Rica to a Costa Rican mother and a father who was as Midwestern as they come. After a few years in the U.S., we moved back to Costa Rica for good when I was eight and I stayed there until I came back to the U.S. for college when I was eighteen. My whole family stayed there, but except for a few months here and there and a two-year stint in the Peace Corps, I’ve lived in the U.S. ever since.

I have twin boys who are three, and I’m making a tremendous effort to raise them to be bilingual, just as my parents did with me. (And at least for now, I’m happy to report, they speak way more Spanish than English!) One of them is quite the little intellectual, he is obsessed with books and can read Spanish fluently. The other was diagnosed with autism last fall and is speech delayed. You can read about it on my personal blog, Keen, if you like.

As for me, I work full time as a translator and interpreter, and I love my job with a passion. I interpret in court and in jail, in hospitals, at conferences and community meetings. I translate letters, autopsy reports, birth certificates, tax returns and court decisions. The variety keeps me on my toes, and I learn something about language--Spanish and English--every day. I feel at home among the people I work with, who have backgrounds just as convoluted as mine, and I also feel lucky to live where I do, in a city with a large Latino population, where I can easily satisfy my cravings for pupusas and salteñas, a diverse city that I hope will make it easier for my boys to remain connected to their heritage.

So for now, un saludo, y hasta la próxima.

Keen