I went on the trip without realizing the magnitude of the impact it would have on me. Nine days were spent in the place I have now called home, and I would give anything to go back. I grew up in a small family, Two parents, two siblings, and only a handful of people outside of this that were considered "family." Over the years, my very small family has grown even smaller. I grew up calling this person "aunt" or this one "uncle" but they were never actually related to me. I never thought I would have anyone else besides those in my little world. I never actually felt connected. I have grown up in a little southern Californian bubble, this isn't a negative thing, I just never knew anything about life outside of these borders. I am a 3rd generation born and raised Mexican American. I never knew any Mexican history, I didn't have Quinceañera, I knew not a word of Spanish. I've always been considered a "coconut: brown on the outside, white on the inside." I tried to not think of myself as "Self-hater" but honestly, I did. I was one of the only hispanics to work in a white male dominated place and didn't think anything of it, until I found out the only other Hispanics were the cleaning crew. I've never thought it was bad to be a Mexican, I just knew that with my education and because of the life my parents gave me, I was a little different. I always knew I wasn't "white" but I identified with that culture because the only "Mexicans" I knew were tatted gangsters, so in my mind I knew that's not what I wanted to be apart of. After all this drama about Mexicans from Trump and building the wall I figured, "Why does it matter? I was born here." I realize how selfish that is that because my grandparents were given the opportunity to do things right and that I was given a chance, a chance at a better life in the states. I was given the chance to be raised five minutes away from Disneyland, to be homeschooled, and the freedom to choose what I believe and not forced to know a God that my parents said they knew. I love the life I live, but I have never felt accepted. Inside, I always felt like something was missing, like I didn't belong. I went on this trip going to stay with family that I never knew existed. Family that I still am not too sure how are related to me, but that's okay. On this trip I still felt sort of out of place, not being able to speak the language or know how to convert money. As I wandered with my family and trying figure things out I kept thinking of the famous movie of Selena and how her father said, "We have to be more Mexican than the Mexicans and more American than the Americans, both at the same time! It's exhausting!" Going down there, I believe it's true. There is so much that has to be done. It is hard to understand this, but there is a lot of truth to it. I found myself open and willing to take whatever adventure came my way during this trip, and I found myself discovering so much history of my family and the country itself. I was overwhelmed with all of it, but so thankful for it. My family is from Coyoacan, where the famous Frida Kahlo was born, lived, and died. I have always loved art and being creative, but I was also drawn to her work at a young age. I first saw this painting at a museum in Texas. I was captivated by the color and detail, never knowing much about her except her accident, I didn't really care who she was. I knew of her and I knew that she painted what she was feeling, mostly she felt pain. Knowing she was from Coyoacan I knew I needed to figure out her story and see where she was from and everything. On Tuesday I went to her park, her house, and her studio she lived in with Diego Rivera. I could feel the beauty of the world she lived in, I was inspired. I wish I could describe how it felt. To be where this woman, who was told to be different, in a time where tradition was king. Where a young woman was able to be free and not care what other thought about her, that is a freedom I desire. I did so much on this trip, but there is also so much I didn't do. I found apart of myself I never thought I'd find. I only found it because it wasn't something I could do, it was something I needed to discover. I needed to go to the church where my great grandparents were married, where my cousins were baptized, where my sister would throw up at, and where the past met the future, I fell in love, with the city, with my family, and with myself. I still feel like there is a lot I'm still searching for, but I'm moving in the right direction. There was so much I have done, and still so much I need to do.
For now it's back to reality. Back to my life, back to work, and back as if this trip never happened. I am internally sad that I had to leave, but I know i'll be back soon. This is my home.
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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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