The first time I had to say goodbye to my family in Mexico, I cried so hard I thought I would never stop. When I finally did, it was because I was comforted in knowing that I would see them again. After this trip, I didn't cry, I didn't even feel sad. This is now my home, I don't feel butterflies or feel uncomfortable, I feels are, and at peace. I can't forget the things I have learned here and experienced. The memories are what I hold onto until I see them again. Everything I do, everything i've learned, is all apart of me now. The people who have impacted my life, everything has made me who I am.
Sometimes you need to look to finally move ahead, and that's what I'm doing now. I can't look back in pain, knowing that I grew up not knowing Spanish or anything about where I came from. I need to take what I've learned and pass it down to my future kids. I need to teach them to be proud and not ashamed of where they came from. I can't imagine a time now where I was ashamed of being Mexican, feeling like the names that people would call me would actually define who I am. None of that means anything. I am proud to be an American, but I also am thankful for the Mexican in me that is strong. Until next time Mexico.
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By Sunday, we found ourselves running out of time. I desired to head to downtown and find the Angel De Independencia (also known as the Independence Angel). So we went to breakfast, and while we were walking back, my mother saw some people eating watermelon walking back from the church by our house. So we decided to walk over there and see it. We ended up running into another aunt that I also did not know existed. They talked for a while and my uncle and I walked through the church. The church was built on a pyramid so the foundation is not even, so the church sits slanted. This was my first time inside the church, and it was beautiful. After this got ready, and headed out. My mother, Aunt, and I took the metro to downtown, it was hot and full. Honestly it was pretty suffocating. We finally made it about a half hour later, we took a taxi, and there it was. We walked around, took pictures, went to Starbucks, and made some good memories. We had a great time and it was beautiful. The city is radiant and just full of life. We also went to the biggest church in Mexico and saw where the President comes out to speak. So much history that has come together with the present, it is altogether wonderful and exciting. We even found the street with my name on it. I felt kind of special. We made it back by 6:30pm and I walked over to the theater with my uncle. My cousin and my aunt work there and we know the manager there so we were able to get into the show for free. The show playing was called Dracula Jr. and it was honestly so funny. I am so proud to see the arts alive and well in Mexico and to know the actors as well. After this we went to my favorite Cafe in Coyoacan, El Jarocho and had some Cafe de Olla. I walked to the church and spent time just sitting there. I was there with my cousin and we just talked for about an hour. It was such a good night. It is always so peaceful there to be out at night. Nights like that I will always cherish.
I waited 65 days from the moment I landed to go back. I was excited and couldn't wait to make new memories there. On the plane over I felt nothing. It wasn't an excitement, it wasn't something I was opposed to, but it was just normal. I felt like I was going home and I was happy. When we arrived we went down to the house and went to get food and enjoy the time with our family. We went to dinner at Los Bisquets Obregon I got a cappuccino with chocolate on the bottom and it was amazing. After this we decided to walk towards the Callejon Del Aguacate. This is the alley where (as it has been said) that you can find the devil himself there. I don't know too much about it all, but there's been people killed here and it's been said that there's a lot bad things hat have happened in that alley way. As my family and I went down and tried to find anything, we took pictures and video. The whole time we walked down the alley I felt nothing but chills. I was paranoid thinking someone was following me, but there was no one there. I don't believe in ghosts, but I know that there a spirt real that has both good and evil. Walking down this alley, I felt nothing but evil. I also took a video on Snapchat, when I first took it, it was just a normal video. Now when I go back to review the video, it stops two-seconds in and there is only audio that sounds like whispers. It was really scary. The next day my mother and I woke up early, ready to head to Frida Kahlo's Museum. Last time we were in Mexico we didn't get the chance to go because it was packed. We decided to go breakfast in the square of Coyoacan. It was really cute, with the European vibes. I had a cappuccino, my mom had a cup of cafe de olla and we ate some amazing chilaquiles. We were there for about an hour then walked over to the museum. Like we suspected, the museum was packed, both lines were so long. At the museum there are two lines, one for purchasing tickets, and the other for those who already have their tickets. We were going to wait in the line to purchase tickets, the line itself stretched almost around the building. It would be about a 3 hour wait. While we waited for a few minutes, one of the workers was speaking to a woman about 20 feet away from us and I told my mom to try to listen to what she was saying. She came back and said that you could purchase tickets online and it would be a lot faster than waiting to buy them. So I jumped on my phone and bought tickets within five minutes. We only paid $10 for both tickets and would only need to come back an hour later to wait to get into the museum. I was so shocked at how dumb we had been. We are usually really good with researching and looking stuff up, and we had no idea that you could buy tickets online instead of waiting for them. From there my mother asked if I wanted to find the cemetery where my ancestors were buried. I told her let's do it. We asked a police officer where we would need to go, and he said it was about an eight minute walk from where we were, so on we went. We reached the cemetery and my mom purchased 24 flowers so I could lay on the grave. Down in Mexico, if you go to visit someone there, you also take a bucket and broom and clean the grave as well. While being in there, we had trouble finding it, so we look for about a half hour in this huge cemetery and then right before we gave up, we found it. My mother said that hardly anyone from there comes to visit. She said that the beauty of this is knowing that someday I'll bring my kids down here to see the line of people who came before them. Those who lived their lives in such a beautiful place. There is something special about finding out where you came from. I didn't come from Coyoacan directly, but my ancestors did. My great, great, grandfather did. With the life he lived, that trickled down to my great grandparents, who decided they needed to make a better life for themselves in the States. Had they not made the decision they did, I would not be here, or I certainly wouldn't have the life I have now. Seeing the family I have down here, we come from the asme bloodline, but were completely different. It is all because of where I was born, what I taught, and how I lived. I appreciate everything that my family has done for me. I look back knowing that my life is good because of the decisions they made, good and bad. I want my kids to come back and see where they came from, to appreciate the lives of those lived before them, and the sacrifices made so they can have a good life. That is my desire for my children. After we cleaned the grave and placed the flowers, we walked back to the museum. We made it in time for our slot in the museum. As we walked in and walked through, I couldn't believe my eyes. We also paid extra for a photo pass to be able to take pictures in the museum, it's a few dollars extra but it's so worth it (pics or it didn't happen). To know her background, is just a little window into seeing her art for what it is. You won't understand the paintings with her in a waist/chest brace if you didn't know about her accident. You won't understand why Diego Rivera did some of his paintings in shapes if you didn't know that he was friends with Picasso and also inspired by his work. There are so many things I have read and known of her and Diego, and to see it come to life before my eyes was really special.
She went through a lot of pain in her lifetime, but she managed to move past what people thought of her and she took on each challenge that came her way. She was strong, she was weak, she loved to paint, she was Frida. I admire her confidence so much. She didn't have the sex appeal like Marilyn Monroe, but she was beautiful in her own way. I have always hated it when people would say that, but it's true. Beauty isn't based on how you compare to the standards of others, but to radiate beauty in the way you talk, the way you act, the way you carry yourself. She was beautifully terrifying, and honestly I wish I could find the confidence that flowed through her. I went to to Tijuana this past week. Going for the day while my father had a business trip. I was sick, tired, and emotionally drained. I had called out of work and went down with my mom for the day. It was all nice and fine, until we spoke of a conversation that irritated me and we argued about it for quite some time. I began to think "I should have stayed home," but let myself cool off and went on with the day. By the time we crossed the border I was ready for a new adventure. I was excited to see what the day was going to bring. My father dropped my mom and I off by Tijuana Centro and we walked across the bridge into the city. My mom was born in the U.S. but when her mother remarried they bought a house in Tijuana and they all moved back down there together. As we walked over this bridge in the hot sun, she began to tell me that she would walk from her house, over the bridge and take a two hour bus ride to San Diego High School every day. I couldn't imagine how that must have been at fourteen and fifteen-years-old. We retraced her steps and it was as if I took a step back into a day in her life, I was taking in every moment. I was amazed at everything I saw. I wanted to enjoy the day and see Mexico for myself. I know I have mentioned before that I've been to Mexico a few times, but never like this. We would usually go when I was little to a hall or to my grandparents house (the handful of times i've been there) and stay for a few hours then leave. Now that i'm older it was finally time to explore. Once we walked across we found ourselves in the little square where the restaurants, shops, and dozens of people were. As we walked through, I could feel the eyes of the people around us. Although we may look hispanic, we stuck out like sore thumbs. People could tell we weren't from there, and I felt nothing but judgement. It was an uneasy feeling, but I chose to ignore it. We walked through until we found a little restaurant and sat down to eat. We also found the little pop firecrackers and began to scare the many Asian tourists that walked past. We had fun and not a care in the world. As we were waiting for our food, at the table behind us sat these two guys. They both looked American and definitely were down there for some fun times. As I continued to browse my phone and such my mother nudges me and says "they're speaking sign language." As I looked up, I saw they were signing back and forth. I have such a strong heart for people who sign and are hard of hearing. It really gets to me because my best friend is deaf and no one had ever learned to sign to help her, so I felt I needed to. I took two semesters in college and was pretty fluent. Now being out of these courses I haven't been practicing as much. As I saw them struggling to communicate to the waiter about what they wanted I began to get frustrated. After sometime they were able to order and were enjoying some drinks my mother tried to smile and say something to them. Before I knew it I was signing with them and we were all conversing for a bit. I did my best to keep up but I was able to talk to them for a while. They were so happy and grateful that we were talking with them afterward. It made me feel really good to show them that they aren't alone. Once we said our goodbyes my mother and I continued our journey into the main cathedral they have down there. It was beautiful from the outside and even prettier inside. I found myself wondering why there wasn't as much artwork as there has been in others I've seen. As my mom and I walked in and wandered around we found this one man who appeared to be one of the refugees that had been brought to Mexico with many others some months back. As we walked past him, he held a rosary in his hand and he was praying in English, pleading with God. A few rows back from him, looked to be a man who crying out to God in despair. My mom and I saw them both and we began to tear up. To think of what they were asking God for, to think that they have their own struggles, it was heartbreaking. We prayed for them and the others in the church as we headed out. I can still see those men in my mind. From there my mother began to tell me that the church my dad's parents were married in was only a few blocks away. I asked her to take me there, and she did. We walked three blocks from where the cathedral was to the church. I had never known the story of my grandparents because they are divorced now and don't speak about it as much. I have been so curious of my past for so long that as soon as m mother mentioned it, I knew I wanted to see it. It was a beautiful church, I felt as though I was apart of the history. To think of the memories that were made in this place. I wondered so many things while standing there. Like whether my grandparents thought that day that so many years later they would find themselves out of love with the person they committed their lives to. If they would have known, would they have gone back and changed it? Could they have moved past these regrets? All these thoughts, all these questions, I'll never get the answers to. From there we took a bus to this cemetery that held the tomb of Juan Soldado. The story my mother told me about him isn't entirely accurate I don't think. The main point however is that, he was soldier who was accused of raping a girl. He said that he didn't do it, but because they found her dress or blood on him that was hers they believed he did it. When in reality he was trying to save her from the person committing the crime. Long story short, they killed him, and after sometime people began to see him appear all over the place. It came out some time after that he was innocent and so because of him being killed an innocent man he was then petitioned to become a Saint. Many people began to pray to him for miracles and and they would happen. So the legend goes that those who pray to him will get their miracle. His tomb now is filled with the plaques of those who have had answered prayers from him. They thank him for healing their mother, bringing their son back home, and saving their little girl. They find some hope within him. Being a Christian, I don't believe in other people like I would God, but I also don't know how to explain this. I believe these people have had answered prayer, but I don't believe it is because of this martyred soldier. It was amazing to see the legend and to see the tomb of the real soldier. After this my mother and I took a cab to my aunt's house in Playas, met with her and my cousins, went to eat, to the beach, then back to their place to wait for my dad to meet us there. We got lost, had some great food, and explored. It was an adventure, we didn't know where we would end up. I enjoyed this day so much. I can't even begin to tell you how good it felt to just not care. To not stress about what you needed to do next, to forget the world you live in for just a few hours and enjoy life and go with the flow. I spent the day with my mother laughing and talking. We did more that day together than we had in a long time, and I cherished every moment.
I keep hearing the phrase "sometimes you need to look back to be able to move forward" and honestly, it's true. I still feel lost, I still feel like I don't know who I am, and part of it is seeing and appreciating where I come from. To see the beauty of the world that made me. I find myself grateful for the sacrifices my family has made. Had it not been for my great grandparents coming from Mexico to the States, my life would be totally different. I am grateful for the life I have, but I also celebrate the lives of those before me. |
AuthorReggie is a college gradute with a degree in English. She loves traveling and hopes to one day stay on the battle field for missions. Life is a book and everyday is an adventure, follow her on this journey and see the world through her eyes. Archives
November 2017
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