The Chinita Story

                                                    The Chinita Story

                                                               1985

                                                          A true story

                                      written 02/05/2014 Re-written 7/29/2016

                                                        Howard Yasgar

      In 1985, I had the good fortune to have a Cuban friend named Miguel Marquez. Miguel was a refugee that had escaped from Cuba in 1964, and he came to work for me

just a few days after arriving in the United States.

     Miguel and his family had lived on a small island just off the North coast of Cuba.

The island was called Cayo Coco.

     Miguel had five brothers, and three sisters.

     There was Manuel, Mongo, Jorge, Ricardo and Rudolpho, and then Marcia, Rosa and Mercedes.

     Miguel told me they all lived on Cayo Coco in a big farm house with a palm frond thatched roof.

     Being curious, I asked Miguel what he did with a thatched roof when it rained hard and the roof leaked.

     Miguel said they simply moved their beds to a dry spot.

     Most of the entire Marquez family had thought that Fidel Castro taking over Cuba would be a good thing, but as we all know it didn’t turn out that way.  

     The problems started when his youngest brother Rudolpho was conscripted by the government to fight Castro.

     He was machine gunned down by Castro’s forces, never to walk again.

     Then there was Miguel’s brother Ricardo, he tried to escape in a boat, and he was caught and sentenced to prison for eight years.

     Eventually Miguel and the family decided to try and escape from Cuba.

     They all did it with the exception of Miguel’s sister Rosa, as she had married a Communist, and his brother Mongo who was involved in something  and didn’t want to go, however Mongo eventually came over on the Mariel Boat lift in 1980.

     As soon as Miguel arrived in America he came to work for me, we quickly became friends.

     I started to teach Miguel English and in return he taught me his Cuban Spanish.

     By 1985, almost all Miguel’s family were living in Miami and my wife and I were treated as if we were part of their family group.

     We would attend all the family functions, and parties.

     Miguel  had taught me enough Spanish, so I had no problem talking with everyone.

     By 1985, my wife Katherine and I were traveling back and forth to the Dominican Republic, we were trying to establish a business importing Amber  that was mined there.

     One evening we were attending a party at Miguel’s house, and we mentioned to several people that we would be in the Dominican Republic the following week.

     Miguel’s brother Ricardo, known as “Rico” overheard our conversation and he asked us if we would do him a favor when we were there.

    We said certainly we would be happy to, what, do you want us to do for you?

     He looked at me kind of sheepishly and he said “Chinita” I need you to bring back as much Chinita as you can.

     I knew that in Spanish, Chinita meant a little Chinese girl.

     I knew Rico couldn’t be asking us to bring home some  Chinese girls, so I asked,

what the hell is Chinita?

     Rico held up his thumb and forefinger, sort of like he was holding a little bottle or vial. He looked at me so my wife Katherine shouldn’t see or hear what he was saying.

     In Spanish he said it was “Un liquido para sexo”, a liquid for sex.

     I replied to Ricardo in Spanish, a liquid for sex, I had never heard of it.

     Oh yes, Rico exclaimed, “you put a little liquid on you, and you are good for the whole evening”.

     What the hell is it, Novocain, I asked?  No, No, he said it’s not medicine, it is a special herb grown in the Dominican Republic.

     Rico, and everyone else that had overheard the conversation were now laughing.

     I never had heard of Chinita before and they were  probably thinking how dumb can this guy be, everyone knew what Chinita was.

     So the next week my wife Katherine and I were in the Dominican Republic.

     We had landed in the capitol city of Santo Domingo, and rented a car to drive to the city of Santiago where we were working there with a dealer in amber.

     Back in 1985, Santiago was a sleepy town with a small park in the center, it was just like any small town in America.

     As we were obviously Americans, so we could sit on a shaded park bench and eventually we would be approached by every salesman and huckster in town trying to

sell us something.

     I discretely asked a couple of them where I could get Chinita.

     They chuckled and they said all the street vendors in town had it.  

     By the time we were done with our business, and we had gone to a restaurant for lunch, it was about one in the afternoon, which was siesta time for all the locals.  

     My wife and I started walking down the main street.

     However, we saw that all the larger stores were closed, and all the street vendors were

now resting, taking their siesta.

     Most of them were lying down in the shady doorways of the larger retail stores.

     We noticed that many street vendors had been displaying their wares on the sidewalks by using blankets, they now had now pulled them off the sidewalks and into the doorways with them for siesta.

     So that afternoon, Katherine and I were the only people walking on the side walk.

     It was an eerie feeling, the main street of Santiago was dead silent, not even a car went by, I think it was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop.

     Katherine and I walked silently up the street trying to not disturb any of the napping vendors.

     I noticed in one doorway there was a small chubby kid sitting next to a blanket with all kinds of trinkets on it, and he wasn’t napping. He was just sitting there and staring at us.

    What the hell, I thought, so I went over to him and asked him in my best Spanish if he had any Chinita.

      He looked at me like he didn’t understand what I had said, or perhaps like he didn’t expect an American to be asking him for Chinita.

     So I asked him a second time and his face lit up.

     He said “No tengo”, that meant, no I don’t have it, so I asked him if he knew where I could buy some.

     The little chubby guy, couldn’t have been more than  eight years old got up and motioned us to follow him.

    We followed him as he went out into the middle of the street.

    Then, in  the loudest voice I ever heard, he yelled, “Los Americano’s care Chinita.”

    That meant the Americans want Chinita.

    He was walking down the main street yelling it at the top of his lungs.

    My wife Katherine was so embarrassed that I think she shrunk to half her size.

    Yes, we finally found Chinita for Ricardo they only wanted 50 cents for a small glass vial with a plastic screw cap.

    I bought  I Rico three or four of them.

    I smelled and tasted it, it was just like oil of cloves.

    I told the vendors it was for a friend in Miami, they snickered and said “Si”   

    Anyway Rico was happy, and I bet the vendors in Santiago are still talking about the Americanos that needed the sexual aid Chinita.