April was a Bingo Card
Birthdays, anniversaries, and celebrations.
Dear penfriend, how are you?
I’m writing this letter in May, with April already behind me, surprised at how quickly the year is flying by. You know how some months are more significant than others for different people? Well, for me, the fourth month of the year is full of important dates, and this time, it felt like a bingo card—blank and waiting at the start of the month, and now filled with checked boxes of memorable moments.
One section of the bingo card was dedicated to birthdays, several in my family and among our friends, including Biko’s and my dad’s. My poor father shares his birthday with Animal Day, celebrated on April 29th in Argentina. Every year, he becomes the victim of the same joke served on a silver platter: “Happy Animal Day, Sergio!” his friends say over the phone. He laughs, but I don’t think he finds it funny.
Except for Biko’s and my dad’s, I have all the other birthdays saved in my Google calendar. Still, sometimes I send my birthday wishes a day late because I don’t do it immediately when Google reminds me. I let the day pass, and I remember the next morning. But always, even if delayed, Biko and I send a voice message singing in three languages: Spanish, Arabic, and English. Quite a platypunian birthday song.
Another section was dedicated to anniversaries. At the beginning of the month, it was my parents’ wedding anniversary. At the end of the month, Biko’s and mine. People who know us joke that we had many weddings. I correct them and say it was one wedding with multiple celebrations because geography and the pandemic left us no choice. I’m not complaining, though. If I could, I’d throw even more parties.
We first got married legally in New Jersey, where we were living in 2021. For me, that was the real deal, the actual wedding. Almost no one had gotten their COVID-19 vaccines yet, so only our witnesses, Bob and Susan, and the photographer were allowed in the courthouse. The only other person was the mayor to officiate the “ceremony”—if you can call it that, given that it lasted less than five minutes. It was short and sweet. Then we took photos in Central Park and ended the day with ten friends who lived nearby and came over to eat a cake my Argentine friends had ordered for me as a gift. It was the simplest wedding you can imagine, and I recall it as one of the happiest days of my life.
A week later, we traveled to Yemen and celebrated with our Yemeni family. There were three different celebrations that you can read about in this series: Three-day Wedding: #1 Sunday, Three-day Wedding: #2 Thursday, and Three-day Wedding: #3 Saturday. At the end of that year, we traveled to Argentina and celebrated with our family in my hometown, Junín.
But the most significant square on my bingo card was the anniversary of this newsletter. The one I thought I’d never check off. This project, which I postponed for years, turned one on April 28th. In my first publication (you can read it here), I wrote:
The platypus is an animal that has fascinated me since I was three years old. A mammal that lays eggs, with a leathery duck-like bill and beaver-like fur. A unique mix, which is exactly what can be expected of this newsletter, a snapshot of the mix that lives in my mind: my life abroad, an Arab husband who speaks Spanish with an Argentinian accent, and a cat who doesn’t like to cuddle.
It was a rather vague idea of what I wanted to communicate, but “a snapshot of the mix that lives in my mind” is too much for this space. Looking back at my posts, this year I wrote:
Essays on migration and life between cultures, religions, and languages in the Between Cultures section.
Chronicles of our travels, in Travels.
Letters with updates about our family, in Dear Penfriend.
I also said it would be bilingual, in English and Spanish, but later decided to give my native and adopted languages their own spaces and created two different mailing lists. It’s not a perfect solution, but for now, I prefer to keep these two writing worlds separate.
Over these past twelve months, this has been my playground—a place to create and experiment alongside a wonderfully talented community of writers who also dare to step out, play, and connect through respect, motivation, and admiration. Thanks to this newsletter, I’ve connected with people who have similar lives to mine and with people whose lives are so different they spark immense curiosity in me. Through A Platypus Life, I plan to keep expanding my circle of friendships in different corners of the world and sharing a message of curiosity and multicultural openness.
With some easy wins and others more difficult to get checks, there was no grand prize when I called Bingo. But there were outings, celebrations, and that beautiful personal satisfaction of achieving goals.
Until next time!
Maria Pia
PS. This date doesn’t go into the bingo card, but next week our little family of three turns two years old. We welcomed Gatita on Sunday, May 7th, 2023 (I wrote about it here). She still hates being held, but over time, she’s become much more affectionate and less skittish. In Brooklyn, she was the nosy neighbor of apartment 703, standing at the door watching everything the neighbors did. But if someone approached, she’d run and hide. Now in Toronto, she’s the friendly cat of the 22nd floor, as she asks us to walk her down the hallway and lets all the neighbors pet her when they come out to greet her.
If you came across this newsletter by chance, subscribe to receive my upcoming emails.
If you like what I write and want to help this project grow, you can share A Platypus Life with others.
If you enjoyed this letter, please let me know by liking or commenting below. I really value your opinion, and your comments help this space improve and thrive.