I'm deep in this week's issue of US Weekly when I hear a loud thump at the back of my car. I look back and see that it's just a Border Patrol agent with a dog and the dog must have jumped onto the back bumper, no biggie. It's not enough to take me away from the intimate details of Kim Kardashian's latest relationship. That's right; not only am I freakishly obsessed with bacon, but I'm well-read too.
I carry on with my reading for about another 30 minutes at which point I get a knock on the window. I look up to find that the agent and his pal Lassie never left my car and there are now about 4 more Border Patrol agents around my car, maybe 5 or 6 Customs agents and 3 oddly tall, Thor/Hulk types in khaki with what I can only assume to be sawed-off shotguns. Not sure who they were. It was... intimidating? I was okay with it though, I have nothing to hide. I roll down my window, smile, say good morning, how can I help you? A wonderful woman who lives on the border in Matamoros told me a couple of years ago to "kill them with kindness" and it was one of the best tips of border crossing I have ever received. It's hard to muster up friendly conversation with someone who is not friendly at all, much less at 5:00 AM after having waited 2 hours to cross a line in the sand. The smiles always prove to be well worth it in the end. If BP doesn't like you they can make your life a serious pain in the rear.
"Turn off your vehicle ma'am."
"What was the purpose of your trip to Mexico?"
"Where are you going?"
"Where do you work?"
"Where is that?"
"That's a weird name, what kind of work to you do?"
"Why do you live in Mexico?"
"Can't he just get his papers?"
"I've never heard of that ban before. Have you consulted with an attorney?"
"Why Juarez?"
"Anything to declare?"
"Guns?"
"Drugs?"
"Wouldn't Tijuana be better?"
"Ammunition?"
"More than $10,000?"
"Mangoes?"
"Is this your vehicle?"
"Have you had any repair work done to the vehicle?"
"When did you buy the vehicle?"
"Seriously... Juarez?"
Fun stuff. At this point we are going on 45 minutes with like 15 agents surrounding my car. I'm trying not to pay attention to them. They're walking down the bridge alongside my car as the line progresses. I'm wondering if it would be inappropriate to go back to my magazine. They take turns coming to my window and asking the aforementioned questions over and over as the rest determine whether or not my back doors sound hollow or if my trunk has some sort of secret compartment full of mangoes. I start wondering if someone could have gotten onto our street in the middle of the night and stashed something in my car. I try to remember if the security guard actually showed up for work last night. I'm running out of places to look without seeming sketchy and paranoid.
Ahhh screw it. I pick up my magazine. Oooh Leanne Rimes lost weight! Wow Ashlee Simpson's cheating on her husband? Yes people, it's the little things. I'm still just as American as ever. And there's nothing like a good celebrity scandal to take my mind off of the reality of life.
"Oh, I'm sorry, what was that? You want to see my passport? I'm sorry I was so engrossed in my magazine here." Yeah Emily, way to act casual...
"Ma'am the dog smelled cocaine in your spare tire."
???
"We're going to have to take a better look."
!!!
Although there is always that lingering fear in the back of my mind that someone could have done something (?) to my car at some point during the night, there were really only 2 things worrying me at the time. 1: I hope they "take a better look" quickly because I am exhausted and was really looking forward to a nap in the Walmart parking lot. And 2: Did the dog tell the agent that he smelled cocaine specifically? Was there an actual conversation in some sort of secret K-9 language? Was Lassie like, "I think I found something!" And the officer said, "Is it marijuana?" :serious doggie pause: "Nah, it's coke this time boss." I wanted badly to make light of the situation and tell the BP agent that if this dog actually told him it was cocaine then the dog may be better suited with a career in Hollywood than in Juarez, but I bit my tongue. Funny thing about CBP... they don't think that sort of comment is funny. It's sort of like joking about bombs in airports; it doesn't really sit well with people.
Once I (finally) got through the line I was sent to the secondary inspection area where they make you get out of the car and sit on this metal bench. You aren't allowed to look at the car while they inspect it. I've decided that this must be because CBP believes that I'm such a badass that I have the ability to move my things from one section of my car to another with only my eyes, as to never be caught in my drug smuggling schemes. The bench is dusty as all hell so you get that sexy brown film all over your work slacks and since I'm so short my feet don't touch the ground, after about 30 minutes of my chubby legs dangling there I start to lose feeling in my toes. This is what leads up to my favorite part. It is finally determined that I am not a drug smuggler and Lassie was just having an off day and/or smelled some of my dogs' pee on the tire. I am told that I am free to go. When I stand up, my foot is asleep and I get that super fun, tingling sensation which causes me to laugh uncontrollably. Everyone looks at me like I am crazy as I try to stifle the giggles.
The pins and needles sensation helps me finish off the experience with a smile. Although I was annoyed to have missed my nap, after all is said and done, I don't want drugs getting into the US anymore than the next guy and I do value and appreciate the work they are attempting to do.
Just another fun day on the border baby!
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Thursday, June 9, 2011
The New Kid
Today I went to my first Zumba class in El Paso. Yeah, get ready people, this blog is about to go healthy. Anyone who knows me knows that my weight has been a life-long battle for me that has recently took a turn for the worse. My constant, anxiety-filled, eating and drinking binges prior to moving to Mexico has caught up with me and I have more than a few bad habits and pounds to get rid of. I have always loved working out, dancing and running mainly, but damn if I wouldn't love to have a couple of glasses of wine every night to wash down my bacon.
I should've known what was about to happen when the instructor walked in wearing pink track pants, a black spaghetti strap shirt with a rhinestone Playboy Bunny and a pink and black Von Dutch hat. Yeah. I guess I should have expected this. I mean, a Latin dance class? Where would you find a more authentic Zumba class outside of Latin America? El Paso. That's where. I thought I had been to a Zumba class before, but it was nothing compared to all the erotic, booty shaking that went down in this classroom! At one point we were actually "dancing" pretending to ride a... horse? While slapping the "horse"... to make it go faster? Uh huh.
I don't usually notice these things but I think I was overly self-conscious about being the new girl, the biggest girl and the white girl. I was the only white person in the room. Damn my blonde eyebrows. Living in Mexico, I'm getting used to being the only white girl around, but it was just too much in addition to being new, to being so overweight, etc. I felt like the new kid in school, with no one to sit with at lunch. It was an uncomfortable situation. Imagine belly dancing in a circle with 60 other strangers? Straight from a Geneen Roth self-help book, that circle was just AFGO... As the class went on I became more and more okay with the fact that I looked like an idiot and I'm no salsa expert. Oh well. I burned 459 calories! Although, it was pretty funny to see everyone do a double take when I started to do the basic quebradita moves perfectly. Priceless.
Afterwards I felt really excited and I still do. Of course I'm excited that I am making some positive changes in regards to my health but more so I am excited that I can still get through these uncomfortable situations and grow from them. I'm adapting to a whole new culture (on both sides of the border) and loving it. I'm sure one day I will make a friend in Zumba and won't feel like such a fish out of water. It takes time. This lifestyle is definitely giving me a lesson in independence because once I cross that border back into the US, I'm sort of on my own. I have to have my own life that my husband really has no part in. My career, my colleagues, my hobbies, etc. I'm starting to like that. It's forcing me to discover my strengths within and develop myself more as a person.
I'm so excited to see what tomorrow will bring! In the famous words of Mr. Rincon, "Make it a great day, or not. The choice is yours."
I should've known what was about to happen when the instructor walked in wearing pink track pants, a black spaghetti strap shirt with a rhinestone Playboy Bunny and a pink and black Von Dutch hat. Yeah. I guess I should have expected this. I mean, a Latin dance class? Where would you find a more authentic Zumba class outside of Latin America? El Paso. That's where. I thought I had been to a Zumba class before, but it was nothing compared to all the erotic, booty shaking that went down in this classroom! At one point we were actually "dancing" pretending to ride a... horse? While slapping the "horse"... to make it go faster? Uh huh.
I don't usually notice these things but I think I was overly self-conscious about being the new girl, the biggest girl and the white girl. I was the only white person in the room. Damn my blonde eyebrows. Living in Mexico, I'm getting used to being the only white girl around, but it was just too much in addition to being new, to being so overweight, etc. I felt like the new kid in school, with no one to sit with at lunch. It was an uncomfortable situation. Imagine belly dancing in a circle with 60 other strangers? Straight from a Geneen Roth self-help book, that circle was just AFGO... As the class went on I became more and more okay with the fact that I looked like an idiot and I'm no salsa expert. Oh well. I burned 459 calories! Although, it was pretty funny to see everyone do a double take when I started to do the basic quebradita moves perfectly. Priceless.
Afterwards I felt really excited and I still do. Of course I'm excited that I am making some positive changes in regards to my health but more so I am excited that I can still get through these uncomfortable situations and grow from them. I'm adapting to a whole new culture (on both sides of the border) and loving it. I'm sure one day I will make a friend in Zumba and won't feel like such a fish out of water. It takes time. This lifestyle is definitely giving me a lesson in independence because once I cross that border back into the US, I'm sort of on my own. I have to have my own life that my husband really has no part in. My career, my colleagues, my hobbies, etc. I'm starting to like that. It's forcing me to discover my strengths within and develop myself more as a person.
I'm so excited to see what tomorrow will bring! In the famous words of Mr. Rincon, "Make it a great day, or not. The choice is yours."
Friday, June 3, 2011
Entitlement
I left work a couple of hours early today. On the way home I found myself suddenly in a line of trucas blindadas from DF. There were 4 and I'm not sure how but suddenly 2 were in front of me and 2 behind me. All of a sudden I heard a blast and my truck was hit with something. I thought for sure someone was shooting at them but it was actually the car in the next lane over whose tire had blown out. Part of the tire must have popped off and hit my car. It scared the crap out of me! It must have scared the little caravan too because everyone slammed on their brakes when it happened and I almost hit the truck in front of me. That would have been beyond bad...
I was still shaking when I stopped at Bip Bip to pay our water bill. I get out of the car and as I am walking to the store there is a woman sitting on the ground with a cup asking for money. Her 2 children are at the door trying to sell mazapanes to all of the customers leaving the store. When I walked out the woman called to me. "Guera, un peso, lo que sea, por favor, tu tienes por compartir!"
Maybe it was because I had a stressful work week, maybe it was because I was freaked out about what happened on the road and not thinking, but I finally said something I had been wanting to say for so long. "Mija, levantate. Solo levantate. Como vas a tener esos pobres jovencitos trabajando, mientras que estes alli sentada?"
Before you think I am a total bitch, I have to say I understand that I am beyond fortunate and blessed to have been born in the United States where there are endless opportunities and resources. I am not so ignorant to think that everyone can get work in Mexico or has access to help and support when times are tough. I see that many people are poverty stricken in a way I will never fully comprehend. I think it was the way she was just sitting there, while her children were on their feet WORKING... it was just too much for me. And the sad thing is that I see it every single day and it really makes me sick. If you are so desperate for work and a home and food, then get up. Stand up. You have two legs. I do give to the poor in Mexico on a regular basis, but I rarely give money. I give food to people almost daily. Lord knows I have too much of it. I suppose the reason I do that is because the majority of the people I see begging look seriously drugged, drunk or just plain lazy and as a former addict I refuse to support another's addictions or laziness, even if it is just a peso. The people I do give money to are people who I feel really deserve it. I know that I am not the person who decides who deserves what, but come on people, do something... anything. My husband and I don't get paid to sit on the corner with a cup. Is that was this woman thinks? "Tu tienes por compartir!" Seriously? Less than 15 minutes before I gave to a woman who was singing in the line. She was just standing there singing and bless her heart, doing a terrible job at it, but she was doing something. She was singing her heart out. I'm sure she had nothing left to give but her voice, but she gave. And so did I. This is what makes the world go round. You have to work for your money. There was a time in my life, when I was getting off of drugs for the last time, that I had to rebuild my life from nothing. I didn't have anyone letting me live with them rent free, or giving me money while I pretended to look for work, or throwing pesos in my fucking cup. At some point you have to stand up, and stop feeling sorry for yourself and be the best person you can be instead of wallowing around in your misfortune.
I guess this really has nothing to do with this particular woman. My frustration lies with so many people's entitlement issues. This really isn't even an issue I typically have in Mexico. However, it's a constant issue in the United States. It's even more annoying in the Land of Opportunity because there is not as much of an excuse for the behavior due to the availabilty of unemployment benefits, Medicaid, food stamps, homeless shelters, etc. I suppose seeing that woman sitting outside the convenience store was the equivilent to seeing at least 20 people come into my work in the past month pretending to apply for a job and doing as bad as they can during the interview process to ensure they wouldn't get hired or lose their benefits either... Maybe I took out my frustrations on her. Maybe not.
I felt terrible for saying what I said after the fact. As I drove away the woman was glaring at me in that "I'm about to do some serious brujeria on your ass"-look. I got back to my house and promptly packed up a grocery bag with some rice, beans, canned veggies, maruchanas, tortillas, etc and went back to Bip Bip. (Not because I was afraid of possible spells, trust me. I just felt bad.) I gave her the bag and I apologized. I told her that it was hard for me to see her there sitting while her kids were working. I told her that if she really, truly wanted to work she should stand up and offer to clean someone's house, or wash someone's windows. I told her that I wished her the best and I am sorry I said something so rude. She started to tell me about how she didn't like the jobs in Juarez because they were too hard so now she was just homeless. Too hard? What? Was this woman seriously telling me that she could/did work but just didn't like it? Then she told me that I should feel bad for her because she doesn't have any family here in Juarez "like me." I told her that I didn't have any family in Juarez either and that before I moved here I lived without any family within 1000 miles in the US for a long time. Then she... GET THIS... opened the bag of food I brought and sighed and then rolled her eyes. She didn't even say thank you. At the same time a man came out of the store and put like 10, one peso coins in her cup and while she said gracias no less than 3 times. That got a smile out of her. I wasn't expecting anything out of this woman, but geez, not even a thank you? I told her good luck and left. The whole thing really got to me.
I understand that this woman, and these people coming into my work to pretend to fill out an application, do not represent all of those who are struggling in this world, by any means. I guess the thing is that I feel bad for the people that are truly struggling in life and just can't catch a break. These lazy, free-loaders are ruining it all for those people who really just need a helping hand.
I feel like there is a reason for everything happening in my life. I feel like there is a reason I was able to learn Spanish so easily and a reason we are forced to live here in Mexico. This must be a sign that I should give back, teach someone something or try to change the world... But how can you know who to help? I have learned recently that many people just don't want to be helped. They are content in their misery and their role of playing the victim. How can I weed out people who will scoff at a donated bag of beans from the people who will praise God for those beans and feed their family for a couple of days with them??
I don't know... I'm sure I will get slack for posting all of this and sound incredibly naive. I just don't understand why someone wouldn't want to better their life. I don't understand why people just give up. I don't know why so many people expect a fairy to come around and give them the world. I don't understand why people resign themselves to failure and I don't know how to end this blog. I suppose there is no end or solution to this eternal battle.
I was still shaking when I stopped at Bip Bip to pay our water bill. I get out of the car and as I am walking to the store there is a woman sitting on the ground with a cup asking for money. Her 2 children are at the door trying to sell mazapanes to all of the customers leaving the store. When I walked out the woman called to me. "Guera, un peso, lo que sea, por favor, tu tienes por compartir!"
Maybe it was because I had a stressful work week, maybe it was because I was freaked out about what happened on the road and not thinking, but I finally said something I had been wanting to say for so long. "Mija, levantate. Solo levantate. Como vas a tener esos pobres jovencitos trabajando, mientras que estes alli sentada?"
Before you think I am a total bitch, I have to say I understand that I am beyond fortunate and blessed to have been born in the United States where there are endless opportunities and resources. I am not so ignorant to think that everyone can get work in Mexico or has access to help and support when times are tough. I see that many people are poverty stricken in a way I will never fully comprehend. I think it was the way she was just sitting there, while her children were on their feet WORKING... it was just too much for me. And the sad thing is that I see it every single day and it really makes me sick. If you are so desperate for work and a home and food, then get up. Stand up. You have two legs. I do give to the poor in Mexico on a regular basis, but I rarely give money. I give food to people almost daily. Lord knows I have too much of it. I suppose the reason I do that is because the majority of the people I see begging look seriously drugged, drunk or just plain lazy and as a former addict I refuse to support another's addictions or laziness, even if it is just a peso. The people I do give money to are people who I feel really deserve it. I know that I am not the person who decides who deserves what, but come on people, do something... anything. My husband and I don't get paid to sit on the corner with a cup. Is that was this woman thinks? "Tu tienes por compartir!" Seriously? Less than 15 minutes before I gave to a woman who was singing in the line. She was just standing there singing and bless her heart, doing a terrible job at it, but she was doing something. She was singing her heart out. I'm sure she had nothing left to give but her voice, but she gave. And so did I. This is what makes the world go round. You have to work for your money. There was a time in my life, when I was getting off of drugs for the last time, that I had to rebuild my life from nothing. I didn't have anyone letting me live with them rent free, or giving me money while I pretended to look for work, or throwing pesos in my fucking cup. At some point you have to stand up, and stop feeling sorry for yourself and be the best person you can be instead of wallowing around in your misfortune.
I guess this really has nothing to do with this particular woman. My frustration lies with so many people's entitlement issues. This really isn't even an issue I typically have in Mexico. However, it's a constant issue in the United States. It's even more annoying in the Land of Opportunity because there is not as much of an excuse for the behavior due to the availabilty of unemployment benefits, Medicaid, food stamps, homeless shelters, etc. I suppose seeing that woman sitting outside the convenience store was the equivilent to seeing at least 20 people come into my work in the past month pretending to apply for a job and doing as bad as they can during the interview process to ensure they wouldn't get hired or lose their benefits either... Maybe I took out my frustrations on her. Maybe not.
I felt terrible for saying what I said after the fact. As I drove away the woman was glaring at me in that "I'm about to do some serious brujeria on your ass"-look. I got back to my house and promptly packed up a grocery bag with some rice, beans, canned veggies, maruchanas, tortillas, etc and went back to Bip Bip. (Not because I was afraid of possible spells, trust me. I just felt bad.) I gave her the bag and I apologized. I told her that it was hard for me to see her there sitting while her kids were working. I told her that if she really, truly wanted to work she should stand up and offer to clean someone's house, or wash someone's windows. I told her that I wished her the best and I am sorry I said something so rude. She started to tell me about how she didn't like the jobs in Juarez because they were too hard so now she was just homeless. Too hard? What? Was this woman seriously telling me that she could/did work but just didn't like it? Then she told me that I should feel bad for her because she doesn't have any family here in Juarez "like me." I told her that I didn't have any family in Juarez either and that before I moved here I lived without any family within 1000 miles in the US for a long time. Then she... GET THIS... opened the bag of food I brought and sighed and then rolled her eyes. She didn't even say thank you. At the same time a man came out of the store and put like 10, one peso coins in her cup and while she said gracias no less than 3 times. That got a smile out of her. I wasn't expecting anything out of this woman, but geez, not even a thank you? I told her good luck and left. The whole thing really got to me.
I understand that this woman, and these people coming into my work to pretend to fill out an application, do not represent all of those who are struggling in this world, by any means. I guess the thing is that I feel bad for the people that are truly struggling in life and just can't catch a break. These lazy, free-loaders are ruining it all for those people who really just need a helping hand.
I feel like there is a reason for everything happening in my life. I feel like there is a reason I was able to learn Spanish so easily and a reason we are forced to live here in Mexico. This must be a sign that I should give back, teach someone something or try to change the world... But how can you know who to help? I have learned recently that many people just don't want to be helped. They are content in their misery and their role of playing the victim. How can I weed out people who will scoff at a donated bag of beans from the people who will praise God for those beans and feed their family for a couple of days with them??
I don't know... I'm sure I will get slack for posting all of this and sound incredibly naive. I just don't understand why someone wouldn't want to better their life. I don't understand why people just give up. I don't know why so many people expect a fairy to come around and give them the world. I don't understand why people resign themselves to failure and I don't know how to end this blog. I suppose there is no end or solution to this eternal battle.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Too Sad for Witty Titles
I was going to blog about how crappy the line has been lately, but there's bigger fish to fry tonight.
Today we found out that my husband's best friend from Parral, Chihuahua was murdered on Wednesday. They grew up together in the same colonia and he was like a part of the family. His parents didn't tell us until today because they knew Gordo would be so upset and would go to Parral for the funeral, which would surely end in him losing his job at the maquila. We don't really know who did it or why but don't doubt that he was involved in some type of criminal activity in some way or another. Angel was a wonderful man. He lived with my husband and I in Arizona years ago so I had a lot of time to get to know him. He was goofy and witty and loving and always had a smile on his face. He went back to Mexico a couple of years ago when his older brother was murdered. We just spoke to him on Sunday as he had plans to move to Juarez in the coming week to look for work. He was only 27 years old, with a whole life ahead of him. So why would someone like that turn to a life of crime?
It's simple to me yet so vague to a large portion of America. When you live in poverty and see the neighborhood gangsters who live in mansions driving Tahoes on 22s with brand new boots while you struggle to put beans and tortillas on the table and shower with a bucket of cold water, the decision seems pretty obvious. It is the same dilema we see in American ghettos only magnified times a million. In so many areas of Mexico there are only 2 options to better your life. You can jump the border, or you can stick it out and join the dark side. A teenager taking a 3 month trip alone in the mountains to work in the marijuana fields is a common place in many parts. It's quite a stark contrast to an American teen sneaking off to smoke a joint behind their parents back.
And that's where it gets me... This is really, really messed up. Drugs are bad enough on their own, but when you know (and I mean really know) what it takes to get that ounce, that eight ball, etc? That's fucked up. I have an extremely colored past and did mine, yours, and the kid down the street's fair share of drugs. I've been sober for over 5 years now, but that doesn't take away the guilt I feel now that I know what was involved, the blood that was shed, for me to get high. It's disgusting really.
The part that hurts me the most is the US's view of Latin America. "It's all their fault" and South of the border is just a cesspool of low-lifes, overflowing onto "our" land, etc? Oh wait, I'm sorry, that's with the exception of Cancun of course! Americans love to talk crap about Mexico but can't wait to go vacation here. Spring Break! Margaritas! Souvenirs! Woot, woot!? It makes me sick. Doesn't everyone realize that these people are only giving America what it asked for? Just feeding their addictions? I mean, I don't get it... I don't get how more people don't get it. America has made their bed. America funds this war. An American gun put 2 bullets in Angel's chest and one in his head. American money put that .380 in the hands of his murderer.
I maintain my feelings that I am safe here in Juarez, but I am safe because I am not involved with drugs and crime. I am safe because I can be. I can cross the border and bring home a comfy US salary. If I wasn't doing that, and my husband was here in Mexico alone, what would his options be? He works in a maquila, like millions of other Mexicans, and brings home 2,000 pesos a month. Our rent alone is 2,500 pesos. Enough said. It's no wonder people come to the Unites States illegally or get involved in drug trafficking or human smuggling. I guess the question is how far would you go to buy diapers for your infant? How far would you go to feed your children? How far would you go to stay alive if you had no other options? The answer is all the way.
Do I have a solution? No. Do I know how to heal my husband's broken heart? No. Do I know what to say to the mother who has lost yet another one of her son's lives to give some spoiled brat a bump of cocaine? No. I don't know what to do or say or think. I can just listen to my husband and be sad with him and go on with life.
Tonight we will remember how much we loved our friend, pray that he is in a better place, and hope that someday soon we can find a way to make this world a better, and more peaceful place.
Today we found out that my husband's best friend from Parral, Chihuahua was murdered on Wednesday. They grew up together in the same colonia and he was like a part of the family. His parents didn't tell us until today because they knew Gordo would be so upset and would go to Parral for the funeral, which would surely end in him losing his job at the maquila. We don't really know who did it or why but don't doubt that he was involved in some type of criminal activity in some way or another. Angel was a wonderful man. He lived with my husband and I in Arizona years ago so I had a lot of time to get to know him. He was goofy and witty and loving and always had a smile on his face. He went back to Mexico a couple of years ago when his older brother was murdered. We just spoke to him on Sunday as he had plans to move to Juarez in the coming week to look for work. He was only 27 years old, with a whole life ahead of him. So why would someone like that turn to a life of crime?
It's simple to me yet so vague to a large portion of America. When you live in poverty and see the neighborhood gangsters who live in mansions driving Tahoes on 22s with brand new boots while you struggle to put beans and tortillas on the table and shower with a bucket of cold water, the decision seems pretty obvious. It is the same dilema we see in American ghettos only magnified times a million. In so many areas of Mexico there are only 2 options to better your life. You can jump the border, or you can stick it out and join the dark side. A teenager taking a 3 month trip alone in the mountains to work in the marijuana fields is a common place in many parts. It's quite a stark contrast to an American teen sneaking off to smoke a joint behind their parents back.
And that's where it gets me... This is really, really messed up. Drugs are bad enough on their own, but when you know (and I mean really know) what it takes to get that ounce, that eight ball, etc? That's fucked up. I have an extremely colored past and did mine, yours, and the kid down the street's fair share of drugs. I've been sober for over 5 years now, but that doesn't take away the guilt I feel now that I know what was involved, the blood that was shed, for me to get high. It's disgusting really.
The part that hurts me the most is the US's view of Latin America. "It's all their fault" and South of the border is just a cesspool of low-lifes, overflowing onto "our" land, etc? Oh wait, I'm sorry, that's with the exception of Cancun of course! Americans love to talk crap about Mexico but can't wait to go vacation here. Spring Break! Margaritas! Souvenirs! Woot, woot!? It makes me sick. Doesn't everyone realize that these people are only giving America what it asked for? Just feeding their addictions? I mean, I don't get it... I don't get how more people don't get it. America has made their bed. America funds this war. An American gun put 2 bullets in Angel's chest and one in his head. American money put that .380 in the hands of his murderer.
I maintain my feelings that I am safe here in Juarez, but I am safe because I am not involved with drugs and crime. I am safe because I can be. I can cross the border and bring home a comfy US salary. If I wasn't doing that, and my husband was here in Mexico alone, what would his options be? He works in a maquila, like millions of other Mexicans, and brings home 2,000 pesos a month. Our rent alone is 2,500 pesos. Enough said. It's no wonder people come to the Unites States illegally or get involved in drug trafficking or human smuggling. I guess the question is how far would you go to buy diapers for your infant? How far would you go to feed your children? How far would you go to stay alive if you had no other options? The answer is all the way.
Do I have a solution? No. Do I know how to heal my husband's broken heart? No. Do I know what to say to the mother who has lost yet another one of her son's lives to give some spoiled brat a bump of cocaine? No. I don't know what to do or say or think. I can just listen to my husband and be sad with him and go on with life.
Tonight we will remember how much we loved our friend, pray that he is in a better place, and hope that someday soon we can find a way to make this world a better, and more peaceful place.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Celebrations & Normalcy
Do you ever feel like you have so much going on, yet so little to talk about? I'd like to make a promise to myself to blog at least one a week, yet feel like my life happenings are so irrelevant and boring. Who in the hell would want to read about them? I'm not sure, but I have to attempt to keep my promise.
This week I passed my CA exam for the State of Texas. It was a big deal for me as it was the hardest test I have ever taken and I swore up and down I had failed it. Without getting into details about my career (because trust me, it will bore you), the test was on entomology, biology and Texas agricultural laws.
Gordo had been promising me that if I passed he would take me to Las Alitas to celebrate. I would love to go out to dinner all the time, but financially, we just can't swing it. We had only been out once since we moved to Mexico last August. It was very nice. Las Alitas is about 2 minutes from our house and boasts an online menu of US style burgers, wings and ribs in both English and Spanish, which impressed me. They are a national chain, a la Chili's or Applebees.
I was very impressed with the food, the service, and the price. For $26.50 US we got an appetizer, 2 entrees and a pitcher of beer, with plenty of leftovers to take home. The manager came by our table twice to ask how the service had been. It's only a few minutes North of the US consulate, on the same street, so those visiting should totally stop in. It was so nice to get out with my husband. We are super simple people, not the type to have fancy dates. Dinner and a movie is a big treat for us.
I appreciate our simplicity and I touched on this in my Valentine's Day blog... but I think there is something special about your spouse being your best friend. I wouldn't say I had such a great impression of marriage in my lifetime. Divorce is always an option. As an adult, the concept of actually liking my husband, and not just loving him, is seriously amazing. The fact that if I could go dinner with anyone, I would choose him, is something I never planned on.
We had a great time and finished the night off with movie marathon, fueled by the woman on the corner who sells 3 new releases for 50 pesos. Good times. Normal times. A normal life is something I thought we could never obtain. But as soon as I could adjust my view of normalcy, we were living it! So for everyone out there that is pissed off about the United States and whether they can or cannot live there, try to remember, life goes on. You can still move forward. Marriage isn't about where you live, or what your job is, or about legal status. It's just about being together, wherever that may be, and loving each other for who you are. I'm not trying to make it seem easy, because it's not. It never is. But it is always in the realm of possibility, regardless of your situation... And once you cross into that reality, well, there's no going back. And who would want to anyway?
Salud!
This week I passed my CA exam for the State of Texas. It was a big deal for me as it was the hardest test I have ever taken and I swore up and down I had failed it. Without getting into details about my career (because trust me, it will bore you), the test was on entomology, biology and Texas agricultural laws.
Gordo had been promising me that if I passed he would take me to Las Alitas to celebrate. I would love to go out to dinner all the time, but financially, we just can't swing it. We had only been out once since we moved to Mexico last August. It was very nice. Las Alitas is about 2 minutes from our house and boasts an online menu of US style burgers, wings and ribs in both English and Spanish, which impressed me. They are a national chain, a la Chili's or Applebees.
I was very impressed with the food, the service, and the price. For $26.50 US we got an appetizer, 2 entrees and a pitcher of beer, with plenty of leftovers to take home. The manager came by our table twice to ask how the service had been. It's only a few minutes North of the US consulate, on the same street, so those visiting should totally stop in. It was so nice to get out with my husband. We are super simple people, not the type to have fancy dates. Dinner and a movie is a big treat for us.
I appreciate our simplicity and I touched on this in my Valentine's Day blog... but I think there is something special about your spouse being your best friend. I wouldn't say I had such a great impression of marriage in my lifetime. Divorce is always an option. As an adult, the concept of actually liking my husband, and not just loving him, is seriously amazing. The fact that if I could go dinner with anyone, I would choose him, is something I never planned on.
We had a great time and finished the night off with movie marathon, fueled by the woman on the corner who sells 3 new releases for 50 pesos. Good times. Normal times. A normal life is something I thought we could never obtain. But as soon as I could adjust my view of normalcy, we were living it! So for everyone out there that is pissed off about the United States and whether they can or cannot live there, try to remember, life goes on. You can still move forward. Marriage isn't about where you live, or what your job is, or about legal status. It's just about being together, wherever that may be, and loving each other for who you are. I'm not trying to make it seem easy, because it's not. It never is. But it is always in the realm of possibility, regardless of your situation... And once you cross into that reality, well, there's no going back. And who would want to anyway?
Salud!
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Crossroads
So much has happened in the last 2 months that has deserved a blog. Or maybe 2. Or 3.
My mom came to visit. We had a wonderful time. I feel so blessed that she even had the nerve to come to Juarez. A place that is known for... well, you know. We talked and laughed and she met my husband for the very first time. Although Gordo and I have been together for about 6 years now, many things had prevented my family from meeting him. She loved him, as I had expected, and I was more than thrilled to share his... greatness... with my family. Can you imagine meeting and loving and marrying your soul mate and not having the chance to introduce them to your family for 6 years? Yeah. Brutal. But the end result was everything I could have hoped it would be.
I have also been more than preoccupied with work. Transferring my license to Texas has been no small feat and last week I took "the test." I have yet to get the results to what could honestly determine the future of my entire career. Melodramatic? Slightly. When you live in Mexico and work in the US, it is imperative that you put your all into your career, whatever that may be. After seeing my husband work his ass off for $50 US a week, I cannot expect anything less than the best from myself. Seeing so many go without makes anyone suddenly grateful for US minimum wage.
The real reason I haven't blogged? Well... I've moved on. Not from this blog, but from the former Emily; The Emily that worried incessantly about immigration, and moving to Mexico, and cultural differences, and meeting my in-laws, and finding work. In the last 2 months I have accepted our hand in life. I have accepted that we can't live in the US. I have embraced border crossing and my work and our home and our life. What now? I have spent the last 6 years planning how we could be together legally. And here we are. Now what? In this time of planning all of our dreams were put on hold. All we thought about was USCIS, Sheriff Joe Arpaio, protest rallies, ifs/ands/buts. And now that have we left the United States... what are we to think about? What does one worry about or pine for?
It's time to redirect my thoughts and worries and hopes to what really matters in life; Our health, starting a family, educating ourselves, staying safe, and prospering. And so here I am, at a crossroad.
My mom came to visit. We had a wonderful time. I feel so blessed that she even had the nerve to come to Juarez. A place that is known for... well, you know. We talked and laughed and she met my husband for the very first time. Although Gordo and I have been together for about 6 years now, many things had prevented my family from meeting him. She loved him, as I had expected, and I was more than thrilled to share his... greatness... with my family. Can you imagine meeting and loving and marrying your soul mate and not having the chance to introduce them to your family for 6 years? Yeah. Brutal. But the end result was everything I could have hoped it would be.
I have also been more than preoccupied with work. Transferring my license to Texas has been no small feat and last week I took "the test." I have yet to get the results to what could honestly determine the future of my entire career. Melodramatic? Slightly. When you live in Mexico and work in the US, it is imperative that you put your all into your career, whatever that may be. After seeing my husband work his ass off for $50 US a week, I cannot expect anything less than the best from myself. Seeing so many go without makes anyone suddenly grateful for US minimum wage.
The real reason I haven't blogged? Well... I've moved on. Not from this blog, but from the former Emily; The Emily that worried incessantly about immigration, and moving to Mexico, and cultural differences, and meeting my in-laws, and finding work. In the last 2 months I have accepted our hand in life. I have accepted that we can't live in the US. I have embraced border crossing and my work and our home and our life. What now? I have spent the last 6 years planning how we could be together legally. And here we are. Now what? In this time of planning all of our dreams were put on hold. All we thought about was USCIS, Sheriff Joe Arpaio, protest rallies, ifs/ands/buts. And now that have we left the United States... what are we to think about? What does one worry about or pine for?
It's time to redirect my thoughts and worries and hopes to what really matters in life; Our health, starting a family, educating ourselves, staying safe, and prospering. And so here I am, at a crossroad.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Happy Valentine's Day!
My husband and I aren't really super affecionate. We don't kiss in public or put our hands in each other's pockets as we stroll through the park. We also don't generally shower each other with gifts on holidays, including Valentine's Day. So today wasn't a day of cards and roses and Victoria Secret, but I did realize that I like our love. I appreciate our love. It is lasting. It's all that stuff they talk about during wedding vows. For richer or poorer and in sickness and in health and in good times and bad and what not. Good stuff.
I saw various people running around today with pink bags and balloons and teddy bears and I just felt so grateful. Grateful that I have found the man of my dreams, the love of my life, my best friend, my media naranja. I don't have to buy all that shit to tell my husband I love him and I'm glad. Not that there's anything wrong with all of that. We occasionally give gifts or celebrate on these little holidays but on a day like today when he has to work till 1:00 am, I'm glad I don't miss it, or need it, for that matter.
The very best part of today? I think about love and relationships today more than other days and it's comforting to know that my husband loves me for me. He's seen me in my very worst, childish, drug addicted days, he's seen me without make up, he's seen me cry until snot pours out my nose, he's seen me laugh until I snort, and he still loves me. That's the best kind of love there is if you ask me.
I saw various people running around today with pink bags and balloons and teddy bears and I just felt so grateful. Grateful that I have found the man of my dreams, the love of my life, my best friend, my media naranja. I don't have to buy all that shit to tell my husband I love him and I'm glad. Not that there's anything wrong with all of that. We occasionally give gifts or celebrate on these little holidays but on a day like today when he has to work till 1:00 am, I'm glad I don't miss it, or need it, for that matter.
The very best part of today? I think about love and relationships today more than other days and it's comforting to know that my husband loves me for me. He's seen me in my very worst, childish, drug addicted days, he's seen me without make up, he's seen me cry until snot pours out my nose, he's seen me laugh until I snort, and he still loves me. That's the best kind of love there is if you ask me.
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