Mexican tax lawyer Luis Villalobos is
lured to the tiny island of Curaçao anticipating a fast track to the cusp of an
already stellar career. But the paradise we expect
is so rarely the paradise we find.
Denise, thank you so
much for having me over today. It’s such an honor to be part of your community,
and to get the opportunity to introduce you to Curaçao. This island, both the
setting for The Miracle of Small Things my
home for the last decade, is a place very few people have heard of, let alone
visited. I had no clue even where it was, when I volunteered for a six-month
transfer back in 2003. And, boy, did it take me by storm.
This
island has the potential to change people. It changed me, twice. First it lured
me into postponing the flight back to Mexico, and then into staying. A
decade later, it engineered the epiphany that drove me to leave a great job and
write full-time.
But
change is something we resist, isn't it?
It takes time to train your eye to see
past the large, past the spectacular, to the tiny bursts of color, the ethereal
fragility. To the miracle of it all, teeming, just below the surface.
(fragment of Interlude #3, from The Miracle of Small Things)
Curaçao
is not for everybody. I’ve lived here long enough to see people arrive, fresh
and hopeful, and it’s always a coin toss: will they last?
Curacao’s is a prickly kind of beauty.
Rough around the edges, camouflaged in
the humdrum, the unremarkable, even the unappealing. It’s a rare beauty, sudden
and abrupt; the beauty of a cactus flowering in the wild, blooms of impossible
grace hidden in thorns and the tromp l’oeil of shadow in the blazing sun.
It’s the kind of beauty that, like the
cactus flower, lives in total ignorance of ostentation.
The kind that the traveler seeking
glamour or sycophantic perfection will never be able to see.
(Interlude #1, The Miracle of Small Things)
The
Caribbean is the world’s original melting pot of culture, and Curaçao is a
prime (and unique) example. It’s an island rich in history, and in historical
exchange: from the European discovery of the Americas to the ongoing conflict
with Venezuela; from slave trade to modern global finance; from the war between
the Netherlands and Spain to World War II. Curaçao, tiny as it is—171 sq.
miles, population 150K—is home to fifty nationalities. Diversity is the rule
here, not the exception. Tolerance is a way of life.
But
it’s a special island, choosy in whom it reveals its charms to.
Curaçao is contrast. Clear blue ocean;
stark land of cacti and rock. Water and fruit are expensive; gas and cigarettes
cheap. Ten political parties; two bookstores. The tragedy of slavery; the joy
of Carnaval. Jew and Muslim having a
soda at the snék. The black-and-white
couples and their beautiful children of corkscrew curls and eyes of jade.
Europe’s open mind, Latin America’s open heart—both wrapped in Caribbean
laid-back.
Dutch houses in Caribbean colors (and
refinery smokestacks in the background). Dutch vocabulary at Latin volume with
Caribbean cadence. Merengue and tumba and André Hazes. On New Year’s Eve,
people hug and say cheers at 7:00m—midnight in Holland—and a Caribbean steel
band plays.
To speak two languages is a handicap;
to speak only one is a freak show. It’s cosmopolitan and provincial,
sophisticated and naïve. It’s a diorama of the world.
And, for a certain kind of person, it’s
paradise.
(Interlude #13, The Miracle of Small Things)
On
behalf of the gang at Truth
Serum Press, responsible for getting this book in top
shape and then sending it out into the world, and an armload of gratitude to you,
Denise, for being part of the
Miracle Tour. I hope you and your audience enjoy these
Curaçao soundbites (wordbites?), and I’m looking forward to your thoughts on
this place I’ve adopted—and which has adopted me.
Thank you so much Guilie, for evoking the landscape of Curaçao in your post today.
Available as paperback, and in Kindle, epub, iBook, and Kobo formats. Find it on Goodreads and Facebook.
“The
combination of money and sex always creates an irresistible dynamic. Add more
than a few dogs to the mix, and Guilie Castillo Oriard has created a tale as
beguiling as the seductive ambiance of Curaçao itself.” ~ Peggy Vincent, author
of Baby Catcher: Chronicles of a Modern
Midwife
“Curaçao
is lovingly rendered, past and present, as a character itself — post-colonial,
starkly beautiful, and captivating. You cannot read this book without checking
airfares to Curaçao.” ~ John Wentworth Chapin, author of Alexandrite and founder of 52|250
A Year of Flash
“A
richly enchanting story of lives and loves unfolding against the backdrop of
the Caribbean.” ~ Silvia Villalobos, author of Stranger or Friend
Read more feedback at the publisher’s
website, or read a full-length review by Lynne Hinkey at
the Internet Review of Books.
To celebrate the e-book release (Kindle, epub, iBook, and Kobo formats, Nook to follow shortly), THE MIRACLE OF SMALL
THINGS is going on (virtual) tour. Several blogs will be hosting author Guilie
Castillo Oriard during the month of November to talk about writing, about the
book, its island setting and its characters — including a 100-lb. monster dog
rescued from the streets — and to discuss some of the issues MIRACLE touches
on, such as the role of large and small things in the realignment of our
values, and the power of place in our definition of self.
Come
join us. Come meet Curaçao.
But come as Luis
Villalobos should have come to the island:
prepared for a drastic readjustment
of the things you value most.
Guilie Castillo Oriard is a Mexican export; she transferred to Curaçao “for six months” — and, twelve years later, has yet to find a reason to leave. Her work has been published online and in print anthologies, such as Pure Slush’s 2014 A Year In Stories and gorge. THE MIRACLE OF SMALL THINGS is her first book. Find Guilie on Facebook and Twitter, at Quiet Laughter where she blogs about life and writing, and at Life in Dogs where she blogs about… well, dogs...
Thanks for coming by. Please take a moment to leave Guilie a comment.
Thanks for coming by. Please take a moment to leave Guilie a comment.
- Have you been to Curaçao? I’d love to hear your impressions if you have. Or were you like me, totally clueless as to the existence of this island? Do you think you’d be the type to love it, or hate it? Where would you go for the vacation of your dreams?


.jpg)







