My Life in Gringo-land
I am a Mexican:
I was born in Merida, a beautiful city with a vast culture and a mid- size population in the state of Yucatan, where the heat never falters and people can appreciate nature at its finest. My life in the tropics went splendid; school went great, and my family and friends surrounded me all the time. I found myself in a perfectly safe bubble- similar to one I would soon enter. I was in the comfort of my home, but I knew things were going to change. My father said for the best. As it is accustomed in my family, when one becomes responsible enough they go away from the “nest” to broaden their horizons. People say that to become wise and develop new skills, one has to live new experiences. As I grew older, the thought of leaving my family bothered me deeply. And after experiencing the emptiness brought to me by my older sister’s departure into a new life, I told to myself that I was never going to leave; at least not before college, but I was wrong. My father extinguished my hopes of staying when he decided that it would be a good idea to send me to his friend’s house in San Antonio, so I could practice my English and become fluent.
It was a hot winter day in the year of 2007 when my father told me about a new idea he had in mind. He thought about my future and decided that studying abroad would help me. We had bought a Chihuahua dog named Benito the week before, and his greatness ruled my life. But when my dad told me about this “plan” I could not believe what it! The conversation went like this:
-(In Spanish) “Son, your mom and I think it would be good if you moved with my friends in San Antonio for a year or two, so you can practice your English”. My dad seemed a little nervous, maybe sad, when he said this words.
- I was shocked by his sudden comment and only managed to mutter, “But dad, I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
-“Do you remember x?”
- “Yes, I do. What about them?” Confusion and rage overwhelmed my emotions.
- “Well, their daughter, Alia, just graduated high school, and she went to Washington D.C to pursue a law degree; and, they offered me the chance of you going to school there and staying at their house”. I could tell my dad’s tone of voice was indecisive, so I tried to get myself out of it.
- In a forceful and confident manner I said, “But dad, I had already told you that I do not want to do what Natalia -my sister- did. I want to spend as much time as I can here with you all!”
- My dad finally said, “We will discuss this with the Zacarias tomorrow night, and you will do whatever I think is best for your education”. I did not really think he was going to send me away; it just felt so unreal. I felt as if my life was collapsing. Six months later, the idea of me leaving my family and venturing into the unknown was a reality. I enjoyed my summer vacation, or at least tried to because my mind could not stop counting the days until my departure; my entire body ached with apprehension. I knew it would help me in the long run, but living with someone else’s family was going to be hard to get used to. Sadness was present in my last days in town, but I tried to make them memorable; I spent time with my family and went out with my friends a couple of times. To wish me good