Often, we hear talk of ancestral homelands and this talk brings up emotions and feelings to each individual in different ways. For someone to speak of America as their ancestral homeland, indeed that person would have to be of American Indian descent or maybe part of the Mayflower Society, which is a database and group of descendants of the Mayflower pilgrims. When I speak of such 'ancestral homelands', the first that comes to my mind is Argentina.
Argentina is a colorful country. The people are colorful, the chanty spanish language is colorful, the streets and buildings are colorful; much like the Boca neighborhood is colorful from the houses built by Italian settlers at the turn of the last century from painted tin from their boats and ships. The tango is the closest you can come to making love on a dance floor, fully clothed. The national vegetable is steak and its sport is soccer. The people are more passionate than I, if you can conceive that.
My parents and older brother emigrated to the US from Buenos Aires, Argentina in 1963, living in Yonkers, New York for 9 months before moving to Baltimore in 1964. Both my parents were born in Argentina to mainly immigrant parents. My paternal grandfather came from Russia in the early 1900's and paternal grandmother was born in Argentina to Jewish immigrants from Palestine. My maternal grandparents were both born in Poland and even 2 of my mothers siblings were born in Poland, having emigrated to Argentina in the late 1920's. Although I often consider Argentina my ancestral homeland, it indeed was a pit stop along a time line for my families heritage. Most jews have Eastern European descent. i.e. Russia, Poland, Lithuania, etc.
While my parents chose to come to the US in 1963 with little money, no education, and no command of the language, the rest of my large family resides still in Buenos Aires. Growing up in the US with few family members was a challenge but after 6 visits there, I have formed great relationships with my cousins, uncles and aunts. My mother is one of 5 siblings and my father one of 3 so there are many cousins, offspring, etc. I was only fortunate enough to visit with my parents once and being only a year old in 1966, have no recollection. My other trips have been alone or with my wife and children. One of my most special trips was in 1978, after my Bar Mitzvah. When I arrived at the airport there were dozens of family members cheering when I got off the plane. It was like the thrill of being a movie star and endearing fans coming to see you.
While I have formed tight bonds and close relationships with many during my travels and their travels to the States, my brothers have not been as fortunate to travel there as frequently. My older brother Aaron has not visited since 1995 and that was only his third visit although he was born there. My younger brother Barry has only been to Argentina once, 1979. This brings me to the crux of this whole piece.
To truly get the gist of what is transpiring, you must know my siblings and me. I speak to my two brothers daily, usually several times a day. "What can you possibly have to tell him?" my wife quips after my 5th call daily to one of them. "Nothing", I reply. Growing up with few relatives caused our family to be very close. There are times when I will call my brother and say "what's up?" He may answer "nothing" and that will be the extent of the whole conversation. There is value and comfort in just hearing each others voice. I can only hope my 3 boys will have the relationship that my two brothers and I have built.
On Wednesday, the 20th of October, my two brothers and I are traveling together to our ancestral homeland for a reunion of sorts. Our mother is there for a month as her brother turns 80 and a party of epic proportions is set to occur on the 25th of October. We will be staying together in a hotel in downtown Buenos Aires and savoring the city from street to street and port to barrio. I recall the last time I was in a plane with my two brothers together was coming home from Disney World in 1976. There are few chances in life to relive days gone by and we see this as one of them. Just us.
There is little doubt that the entire jet will be furious at the incessant chatting and laughing that will be taking place in seats 36D and 36 E with the guy in 35B as the plane flies nine hours through the midnight sky en route to Buenos Aires. I can only hope the guy in front of me doesn't mind passing notes to the one brother that has a different row! I will post pictures and stories as our journey unfolds.
Argentina...we are on our way and we plan on soaking it all in. The scenes, the family, the food, the wine, the pastries. Look out!!!
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Argentina
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