all of human experience.

"I was the first to lay eyes on the woman with the big butt. Her rear end was monumental, large enough to contain all of the world, and all of human experience.

Thinly, very thinly veiled by red fabric, it spoke of many things without speaking. Fertile fields, sunlight, water, earthworms, hard labor, sweat, roots, greens, fruit, udders, milk, flies, muddy hooves, feathers, trucks full of produce, market stalls, blood, meat, money, canvas shopping backs bursting at the seams, kitchens with banged-up pots, rusty kerosene stoves, lard wrapped in wax paper, dripping tins of olive oil from Spain, diced onions hissing in black pans, garlic fumes, knives that gave off sparks when sharpened on pedal-driven wheels lined with flint, sparks that flew like planets being born, Band-Aids, iodine, aprons stained with memories, ladles, sptaulas, spoons, forks, dishes, glasses stained with lipstick, cups, napkins, table-cloths folded by grandmothers, dishes steaming on the table, thinkly sliced avocados, fried plantains, malanga, yucca, carne asada, arroz con pollo, picadillo, ropa vieja, tasajo, papas rellenas, tons of rice, blakc beans, garbanzos, red beans, paella, beer, wine, rum, coffee, flan made in old chorizo tins, custard with vanilla wafers stuck inside, guaba paste and cream cheese on crackers, lots of sugar, sunsets, endless talk, whispers, shouts, gossip, songs, music on the radio, dancing in place, hands around the waist, hands on the back, familiar bones felt under the flesh, new ones discovered, heat within, heat in the air, kisses, joy, disappointment, betrayal, sorrow, arguments, prayer, sex, birth, ration cards, firing squads, illness, and death.

And egglplants, of course.

And oh, yeah, love too. I'm sure love had a lot to do with making that butt so big."

--Carlos Eire, in Waiting for Snow in Havana

that's humanity for you.