A stark, unsentimental read. These stories are fresh, direct and utterly convincing. They move easily between the Dominican Republic and New York, a Spanish-American world I didn't know at all to start with but was pulled right into by the power of the writing.
None of us spoke until we were inside Papi's Volkswagen van. Brand new, lime-green and bought to impress. Oh, we were impressed, but me, every time I was in that VW and Papi went above twenty miles an hour, I vomited. I'd never had trouble with cars before - that van was like my curse. Mami suspected it was the upholstery. In her mind, American things - appliances, mouth-wash, funny-looking upholstery, all seemed to have an intrinsic badness about them. Papi was careful about taking me anywhere in the VW, but when he had to, I rode up in front in Mami's usual seat so I could throw up out a window.