Archive for the ‘Mexican’ Category

My beginning Part 2   Leave a comment

Hello,

Well lets keep on going with the talk about where my journey began. After my dad stopped working on the northern area of the U.S, he decided to start working in San Antonio. My mom had begged him to be closer, so he can teach me how to be a boy. I see that my mom tried to bring him in to make us a family, but my dad was never a family man. I guess that another reason why i am the way I am, I believe in family to the core. Must of my choices have led me to bad decision and good ones because of course, family. My mom has always believed that sometimes you have to do bad or accept bad to have good. It’s not a weird concept nor new, how many of us now days accept our cheating partners or horrible bosses. The thing about it was, that mentality would hunt me till my 30’s. So my dad started to come home more often, every weekend. He would work 50 to 60 hours a weeks, and of course like must Mexicans live with 7 of his friends in a house. They would split the rent seven ways, it makes it cheaper and easier. It allows them to send more money home, or take it back on the weekend. As must boys around the age of ten, my dad started to become my hero. Not because he did right, but because he was a guy that was my dad. He would arrive friday night around 3:00 am, now understand the drive from San Antonio to Mexico is only four hours long.  At the time I was glad that my dad would arrive usually in a very good mood, not noticing why. As I got older I started to ask myself questions and started asking my mom questions too. But being in a culture that is design by egotistical man and believes, I got shut down pretty fast when I would ask questions. My dad would wake Saturday morning, and me being a boy I would run to him. Hugh him and kiss him, and tell him how happy I was to see him. Now to be honest with you and you know the severity of how much this impacted me, I am currently crying due to remembering how i felt.  There not tears of joy or happiness, but of the pain that a man can cause his child and the happiness can be taken away from a child by a culture. He would wake up, and the first words out of his mouth were, ” get me a clamato for my hangover”. I haven’t seen my father for 5 to 10 days, and his first words was to get him a clamato so he could get over his hang over. So me at the age of 10, I would walk 2 miles to get him tomato juice. Even thought he had a car, I would walk 2 miles to the nearest liquor store, which by the way if you did not know. There is two things that are very common in Mexico, catholic churches and liquor stores. I know, I will have to hear it from Mexicans and they will try to portrait our country like some place in heaven. Truth is that is not what it actually is, but which is the way we each see the same place, situation, emotion or experience. What we like to call perspective, that is something that I learned by practicing philosophy. There is many people from my country, who go through more horrible experiences or some that even live the life’s of kings there. But that’s the thing, you can’t change what is. So after going and getting my dad what he needed. We proceeded to head to the grocery store, all of us. one of the few times that we had family time, it was always my mom and dad or my mom and us. He wanted my mom for one thing and one thing only, which is a very common thing in Mexican culture. Women are not seeing eye to eye, like independent individuals that they are. They are seen as property or animals, hispanic women are kept under very strict code. That I will talk about later, today is not the day just yet. But the grocery store was the event of the day, we would go and what seem to me at time a fun day. We would buy groceries, and then my mom would buy us churros, outside Gutierrez ( the grocery store). We lived a very humble life, our house had many cracks and openings. The A/C did not work and the heat would not stay inside the house in the winter. My dad stopped coming as often as he use to, he would come on the weekend for one day every 3 weeks. That made me realize one thing, that he did not cared about me as much as he cared about his self absorb benefit. He wanted life women, alcohol and party. The American dream according to him, and again Mexican men lose sight of why they came here. My mom would keep working and making sure that we had everything that we needed, based on Mexican standards it doesn’t take much to just have what you need. Well thats enough for today, I will see you guys next time and we will talk about my journey to the USA. How that happened and how the path to being me now started.

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