"I will send for you," an unknown voice over the phone. "I will pick you up at the San Diego Zoo at three. Just wait for me." He didn't know much about that lady, but he knew it was his mom. She left him with his grandmother in Guerrero to find a better life in the United States. He was 3 years old.
Was it hard to leave your hometown, Hector?
"Yes. We had a house near to the beach in Acapulco, Guerrero and 1remember that 1had a lot of friends. 1played with the neighbors all day. 1moved to Ensenada when 1was 6 years old with my grandmother after my dad got killed. 1barely remember my Dad; he was never around, but 1know I had a Dad."
Y como te veniste para San Diego?
"The school in Ensenada was planning a field trip to the San Diego Zoo .. I didn't know I had no passport, but it was not a big deal for me. Things in my head were so simple back then. 1 didn't put too much thought into not being legal in the U.S. Somehow my tia got me a fake, passport, so my abuelita said that it was O.K for me to go to the tour. They had already made plans for me. I thought I was going on a one day trip. I left my toys, my clothes, my friends and my grandmother," he looked down while telling the story. "No Ie dije adios a nadie. "
Do you remember the day of the trip?
"Yes, I hopped in my grandma's old yellow truck and we drove to school
to take the bus. I remember that my grandmother cried the whole way to school. "Why are you crying abue? "Is just the allergy Hector. .. " "Come on mijito, se te va a hacer tarde" and 1 stepped out of the car, grabbed the sandwich that my grandmother made for me, and I ran to the bus
We are crossing the border now, and I was feeling anxious." How cool! "Esta es la linea" and was leaving my history behind. I became a new boy without knowing. A new life was waiting for me at the other side of the border. Everything was given, nothing was asked.
The San Diego Zoo. Humungous animal sculptures made by plants, green fresh shrubs everywhere and woodpeckers bouncing from tree to tree.
A teacher called my name, "Hector! Your mom is here, she is picking you up," "My Mom?
I nodded without knowing what was going on. A small chubby looking woman with glasses hugged me and gave me a kiss in the forehead. She took my hand in hers, and we looked like the perfect family."
"This is your new home, Hector." my mom said to me as she parking in la cochera. I stepped into a new house, new rules to follow, and a new alcoholic dad. A new life was waiting for me. I was six years old. My mom always worked late and she was always complaining from la taqueria. My new dad was just there having beers all day. I guess this is my new life now.
Te gusto tu nueva casa en San Diego?
That old wooden house in National City was nothing compared to my home in Mexico. I had to share the room with my other brothers and we had two couples living in that house as well. My house in Mexico had light, a huge cement backyard, the exterior had a peachy color and we owned a textile factory right next to my house. "One day you will own this factory, mijito" my
grandmother used to say to me whenever we were outside the patio looking at the sunset.
How do you feel about not crossing la linea?
Only an iron fence separates me from my past. I heard that they had opened new taquerias in Mexico I'm dying to taste those tacos with guacamole that I loved so much, man. I live 20 minutes away from Mexico. Don't you think it hurts not to cross the border?
Your Abuelita? She is in Mexico?
My grandmother didn't let anybody stay in my room after I left. She thought I would be back in a couple of days. She really loved me. Three months after I moved in to San Diego, my grandmother died. She couldn't resist that I was gone. There was no reason for her to live.
"Only in America we will have a future" his mother says while washing the dishes in a blue apron after a long day of work at the taco shop
"We watched the same moon for over six years Hector without knowing if one day we would reunite. Now we are watching the same moon together."
"I wish I could have the guts to tell my mom that I wanted to continue my life in Mexico. I have an identity and a name there. I'm somebody there, you know. But it is too late and too hard to start allover again."
A janitor, a custodian or perhaps a gardener; those jobs will be waiting for Hector. His is now in college. Illegal's are not allowed in Universities.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Day of Silance
You walk with you lover to the beach on a hot sunny day. You can't hold hands. You feel the sand caressing your feet, and the ocean wriggles between your toes. You see her long brownish hair swinging at every step, like an angel. You are in love. The wind kisses her lips, and the sun touches her milky skin. Her scent of fresh roses velvety in spring makes their way up to your nose. You feel more alive.
"Her hands look so soft," you say in your head. Should 1hold her hand? You want to caress her face and express your love and what she means for you. You can't. "People are watching," you whisper to yourself. Your hands are invisibly tied, so you hide them in your baggy pants. You keep walking with your head down, surrendering your eyes to the clean sand. You are a woman walking in a free country, with no freedom at all.
"We can't hold hands in public," she cries in a cold auditorium on the East Side of Los Angeles. She is soulless, shattered. Her soul does not have sex, and her spirit is ready to be exposed. She stands up with her heart in the palm of her hand and screams to everybody in the room, "1 don't like it when people call me dyke! It hurts deep inside. I'm no different from you! 1just happen to like women," Silence surrounds the room; others break into tears. A heat of curiosity and pain envelops the space. People are afraid to talk. "I'm a lesbian" she shouts proudly to the audience, "and I'm trying to fmd happiness. 1 don't want people to see me in a weird way. 1 can't take it." Tired of crying and exposing herself to others, she takes a deep breath and sits down on the floor, putting her hands up in her face.
Day of Silence
"You others, don't look up," A lady says to us, the outsiders. "Please respect their
feelings ...just listen and keep your heads down," Crossing from the outer circle to the
center, the lady rejoins the group in sorrow. Another speaks. "I married a woman just to
make my family happy" a mature male voice confesses. "I have a kid, whom I adore, but
I feel empty ... I feel trapped in a man's body. I'm gay," His jeans are tight and his purple shirt could not cover the crosses he had tattooed on his anTIS.Another moderator stands
up and hugs him with love. He falls into the moderator's anTIS,and cries with no shame. We, the outsiders, break into tears, and all of a sudden, the crying got unified. It
became one sad sonata.
Wind hitting my face and the speed of the car electrifies my hair in the air as my sister and I cruise the streets of San Francisco. "Look, look! They are kissing each other! Ew! Look over there! Right there in the corner! He has his hands in the other guy's pocket, Dude! His jeans are so tight! What are they laughing about? Get the camera! Is it on? Film it! Oh my God! I've never seen anything like this before." Castro Street: the new world in San Francisco. Flashy lights, tacky cinemas, men kissing each other and always full of love. Huge rainbow flags wave in the air in every store, where diversity is more than welcome to be served. Cars are honking; men are wearing sexy cowboy hats, people without t-shirts and hot tans.
Isolated. Red duck tape covers her mouth. A small petit girl with glasses is taking a vow. Flyers on a hard brown plywood table. No cel phone, no food, just a bottle of water. "What are you doing?" No response. Just silence. "What is this all about?
Why are you here?" More silence. She wiggles a flyer in the air and her eyes motions me to read it. "Oh! Urn ... OK, thanks." Sweat is dripping out of her forehead. I notice her red tape is even starting to fall off her mouth. The wind is hot and there is nobody else around campus.
Bold black letters. "Day of Silence"
"Her hands look so soft," you say in your head. Should 1hold her hand? You want to caress her face and express your love and what she means for you. You can't. "People are watching," you whisper to yourself. Your hands are invisibly tied, so you hide them in your baggy pants. You keep walking with your head down, surrendering your eyes to the clean sand. You are a woman walking in a free country, with no freedom at all.
"We can't hold hands in public," she cries in a cold auditorium on the East Side of Los Angeles. She is soulless, shattered. Her soul does not have sex, and her spirit is ready to be exposed. She stands up with her heart in the palm of her hand and screams to everybody in the room, "1 don't like it when people call me dyke! It hurts deep inside. I'm no different from you! 1just happen to like women," Silence surrounds the room; others break into tears. A heat of curiosity and pain envelops the space. People are afraid to talk. "I'm a lesbian" she shouts proudly to the audience, "and I'm trying to fmd happiness. 1 don't want people to see me in a weird way. 1 can't take it." Tired of crying and exposing herself to others, she takes a deep breath and sits down on the floor, putting her hands up in her face.
Day of Silence
"You others, don't look up," A lady says to us, the outsiders. "Please respect their
feelings ...just listen and keep your heads down," Crossing from the outer circle to the
center, the lady rejoins the group in sorrow. Another speaks. "I married a woman just to
make my family happy" a mature male voice confesses. "I have a kid, whom I adore, but
I feel empty ... I feel trapped in a man's body. I'm gay," His jeans are tight and his purple shirt could not cover the crosses he had tattooed on his anTIS.Another moderator stands
up and hugs him with love. He falls into the moderator's anTIS,and cries with no shame. We, the outsiders, break into tears, and all of a sudden, the crying got unified. It
became one sad sonata.
Wind hitting my face and the speed of the car electrifies my hair in the air as my sister and I cruise the streets of San Francisco. "Look, look! They are kissing each other! Ew! Look over there! Right there in the corner! He has his hands in the other guy's pocket, Dude! His jeans are so tight! What are they laughing about? Get the camera! Is it on? Film it! Oh my God! I've never seen anything like this before." Castro Street: the new world in San Francisco. Flashy lights, tacky cinemas, men kissing each other and always full of love. Huge rainbow flags wave in the air in every store, where diversity is more than welcome to be served. Cars are honking; men are wearing sexy cowboy hats, people without t-shirts and hot tans.
Isolated. Red duck tape covers her mouth. A small petit girl with glasses is taking a vow. Flyers on a hard brown plywood table. No cel phone, no food, just a bottle of water. "What are you doing?" No response. Just silence. "What is this all about?
Why are you here?" More silence. She wiggles a flyer in the air and her eyes motions me to read it. "Oh! Urn ... OK, thanks." Sweat is dripping out of her forehead. I notice her red tape is even starting to fall off her mouth. The wind is hot and there is nobody else around campus.
Bold black letters. "Day of Silence"
Mar
Cuando te tuve entre mis brazos y la brisa fria te llego, vi como tu alma se escapo en el reflejo del mar.
Yo se que te tuve y se que me tuviste, por que la marea aun me recuerda al oido una y mil veces de tu triste partir
En la obscuridad de la marea todavia veo mis suenos que flotan con esperanza y le ruego al cielo por fortaleza para soportar tu partida.
Si es que hay alguien alla afuera que escuche esta alma en pena, yo te seguire buscando en esta vida y en la siguiente.
Lloro por despecho , por no entender lo sucedido. Dicen que no hay mal que por bien no venga y ese sera mi dicho.
Aun duele el respirar cuando tu recuerdo viene corriendo a mis brazos, al abrir esa ventana que deja entras la brisa fria para ver el reflejo del mar que tanto hace dano
Yo se que te tuve y se que me tuviste, por que la marea aun me recuerda al oido una y mil veces de tu triste partir
En la obscuridad de la marea todavia veo mis suenos que flotan con esperanza y le ruego al cielo por fortaleza para soportar tu partida.
Si es que hay alguien alla afuera que escuche esta alma en pena, yo te seguire buscando en esta vida y en la siguiente.
Lloro por despecho , por no entender lo sucedido. Dicen que no hay mal que por bien no venga y ese sera mi dicho.
Aun duele el respirar cuando tu recuerdo viene corriendo a mis brazos, al abrir esa ventana que deja entras la brisa fria para ver el reflejo del mar que tanto hace dano
Travez
He pasado por muchos mares que me han llevado no muy lejos
Y he clavado mil ambiciones en territorios falsos, sin trasendencia
He deseado el amor que hoy no hecho de menos
Y he tropezado mil veces sin entender el remedio
Al trotar por los Andes del olvido,
Una voz del cielo bajo a socorrer mi pobre alma perdida
Me dijo que la derrota no era lo mio, que no temiera
Por que el amor verdadero a mi puerta tocaria
Despues de dos largos anos de sollozos y tropiezos
Hoy te tengo a mi lado vida Mia y no lo creo
Pienso que estoy sonando, que es mentira, que es de ciegos
Y doy gracias al cielo en cada respiro, en cada vuelo.
Mis alas te aman vida Mia, que ya no vuelo
por lo tanto que yo te amo con toda mi vida y te respeto
Y aunque ronques como un leon en un desierto
Yo te amare con toda mi alma hasta dar el ultimo aliento
Y he clavado mil ambiciones en territorios falsos, sin trasendencia
He deseado el amor que hoy no hecho de menos
Y he tropezado mil veces sin entender el remedio
Al trotar por los Andes del olvido,
Una voz del cielo bajo a socorrer mi pobre alma perdida
Me dijo que la derrota no era lo mio, que no temiera
Por que el amor verdadero a mi puerta tocaria
Despues de dos largos anos de sollozos y tropiezos
Hoy te tengo a mi lado vida Mia y no lo creo
Pienso que estoy sonando, que es mentira, que es de ciegos
Y doy gracias al cielo en cada respiro, en cada vuelo.
Mis alas te aman vida Mia, que ya no vuelo
por lo tanto que yo te amo con toda mi vida y te respeto
Y aunque ronques como un leon en un desierto
Yo te amare con toda mi alma hasta dar el ultimo aliento
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