21 June 2006

Tap me on my shoulder, and tell me . . .

that my plane bound for home has arrived. - paraphrased quote from Richard Blanco, poet and civil engineer

I was struck by his precise descriptions about home, place, identity and being a poet. I have been trying to find the interview on NPR's site, so that I could listen to it again more carefully. While I was tempted to pull off to the side of the road to take notes, I made do by writing without looking.

He is a poet and a civil engineer who was born in Cuba, and lived in Miami for a while before living in Connecticut. I have been grappling with many of the ideas he spoke of in this interview, and had a long discussion about the issues with my hunny (who is from Trinidad). Blanco's new book is Directions to the Beach of the Dead. No time for fancy linking, just follow this link to read more about him and his work: http://www.richard-blanco.com/Directions_to_the_Beach_of_the_Dead.php .

For lack of time, and being bummed about not finding the interview, I will list some thoughts:

1- When you are exiled from the country where you were born, does your new city/country become your home?

2- What becomes of the place you called home, previously?

3 - What are the reasons people are exiled from a home country? And, why do some feel they can never go back? (politics, business, religion, sexuality)

4 - Is there some common feeling among exiles, such as an overall sense of displacement no matter where they live after leaving the home country?

5- While many people who leave Latin America and the Caribbean arrive in Miami, to what extent is Miami part of the Lat. Am/Caribbean imaginary?

6 - Can a new location ever replace, in the mind of the exile, the idea of home? Does anyone ever come to claim a new location as "home?" Does this relegate the country of birth to merely a place of origin, with no attachments?

7- To what extent does family ties in another country affect an exiles' ability to restablish "home" in a new location?

Any thoughts, from exiles or otherwise, I would love to hear your feedback.

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