tales-of-mx

[tales-of-mx]

final thoughts

I enjoyed writing in this blog a lot. I am going to miss it since it helped discover more about myself than I would have thought and I hope I can look back into the blog and have good memories. I enjoyed this class compared to my other classes and I never would have thought anyone would be interested in my families life. I tried to write as often as I could but I started to lose motivation from being inside of the quarantine. 

This blog brought me to realize that there is a whole other world out there and I want to try to discover more about that since it is apart of myself. Hopefully I do. Now I can take pride in who I am and not be as ashamed but sadly it is Texas Tech I don’t feel like I belong here most of the time since most students have money or come from generations of families with education. I can take pride of where I came from because there is professors like Professor Grier who do care and it is rare and that are supportive someone else’s culture and who tries to understand it. 

I may keep writing in the summer but I don’t know. I loved this experience. I can definitely say this experience goes in the books. 

[tales-of-mx]

Cousins Experience

I was 11 or 12 when my cousin Virginia came to the U.S. She recently was pregnant with her son. She wanted him to be born in the U.S. because she did not want him to experience what she had which was poverty. 

My older cousin (Chuy) who is close to my dads age, he was the one who was bringing in her and another one of my cousins (his brother I have too many cousins on that side of my dads family to count.) I remember my dad staying up often and keeping on the phone and he drove down to the border to pick them up. 

From what Virginia told me she said she traveled through the mountains and my cousins they knew the way to get through the mountains because they travel often in out of the U.S. and my dad was helping guide them by making sure they were okay and had a place to stay until they could rent an apartment. 

I remember her being so tan and thin and she looked so out of it and scared. My parents they knew what exactly it was like and I was kinda of scared and confused since I did not remember who she was. 

I remember the day they came to our home my dad said we have company and we threw a little get together party for them. As you normally do when you haven’t seen family in so long. We always have little parties with family in mexico when we get down there. 

Chuy was telling me how awful the weather was and how they had to run from the border patrol and how they ran across some snakes and they stayed three days in the mountains. He told my dad that they gave most of the food to Virginia since she was pregnant. 

The sad part of this all is that Virginia has not seen her family in years. She has my dad and my uncle in fort worth. But my uncle is a stand off guy and is guarded and my dad .. well he doesn’t care much for family honestly. Virginia’s son was born with a heart problems. I told my cousins (her sisters) it was probably from her traveling while pregnant since they were traveling for about a week and they had run out of food the last day of being in the mountains. 

Her son now lives on a machine and she has another son now and is married she lives ironically enough in west virginia. We have not talked since I do not know her well. Maybe I will reach out eventually. 

[tales-of-mx]

Growing up in mexico

So I have explained that my dad has property in mexico because they were going to move back after having me and they said they wanted my brother to have a good education since now they would technically have money. So my dad would work in the U.S. and my mom would stay in mexico and take care of us. So thats what they did for a while.

I remember a lot as a kid living there but it wasn’t until i was 5-6 years old my parents had to move back because I was having lung problems and doctors in mexico said that I was fine. But in reality I had weak lungs and the dust in mexico was making me really sick. It still does when I go back to have to wear sometimes a mask or bring my inhaler because the dust is terrible. 

From every now and then we would stay for the summer or winter. But my mom had terrible experiences with me having lung problems she hated going back but she also has her other reasons why. 

I was very light skinned as a kid since everyone in pubelo that my grandparents lived in would ask me if I was even their kid. Most people thought I was adopted since this was central mexico and most people for central and southern have darker skin since they are more exposed to the sun and there is more native blood. I had light brown and straight hair and I was pale. Most people closer to the border have fairer skin because most people say it is because of the Spanish being able to colonize that area more and the people closer to the border have factory jobs or have jobs where you do not work in the field. One time someone apparently tired to kidnap me which is common in mexico for children who have fairer skin. My dad told me he had to talk to woman who was trying to take me away and said he did not end well because my mom was screaming at her and trying to hit her  Its creepy and weird to think people would kidnap for the reason of lighter skinned children. 

I remembered at this time very little but that I would not spend that much time in-front of the TV like i would growing up but being outside. My dad built this home from the ground up but the neighborhood was safe since many people that lived there were doctors or teachers or lawyers. So it was a fairly nice neighborhood. I would go outside and play with the children in-front of the gates of peoples homes. Nothing how the front lawn is here. Since grass does not grow in mexico. Life was different when you lived in Mexico it was more slow pace and less worrisome because there is less ways to become successful. 

I would spend my summers and winters there and the summers were always the worst since there is no ac and its cold at night kinda of how lubbocks weather is. I remember helping my moms parents with the daily chores of a ranch. They had so much land and so many horses and cows and goats and chickens. I grew to hate chickens since they’re of jerks. But if I was staying with my dads parents i would not have to help out as much since they did not have that much land nor many chores. They mainly had horses since my dad would grow up and tame wild horses or get horses that were not worth that much and take care of them well and then sell them for a lot more. So my grandpa would take me horse back riding a lot. 

[tales-of-mx]

random

In all. I love writing about my stories about mexico in this blog. No one really cares or really listens or cares about the other side. I like this project a lot. It is a great place were I vent about the things ive experienced and seen and felt. Things people don’t know of. 

[tales-of-mx]

Going to High School and Their Tales

I went to a primary dominate high school of hispanics. I did not have friends in High School because going to a ghetto high school and my interests were 90′s/80s rock music and I was into film. I don’t think I would really have that many friends since my primary interests were not drugs or violence. Not to sound pretentious or anything. 

I had a classmate who told the teacher that one time he was in mexico celebrating a birthday and he was 15 at the time and he was drinking since mexico does not care about your legal age to drink. You just drink at whatever age. He said his cousins bought the beer to celebrate what else do you do in mexico but party. He was in the truck and they get pulled over by the police and the police tells them to line up and they get arrested and have guns pointing at them. They ask why are we getting arrested? They responded with because there is minors and there is beer. Yet the beer was not open yet as they were on their way back from the store and going back to his cousins place. It did not make sense but they knew was about to happen. They were being robbed by Mexican officials. They emptied out their wallets and took their cash and any hidden cash and sadly the previous beer. The police then takes them to the jail where their parents have to bail them out. He said it sucked Mexican jail is actually like jail unlike here where you are treated with human rights. 

I went to high school and I did well in school. I did my best. I graduated with the medal of mathematics. A lot of classmates went to were from another country a latin american country. 

Most of the students I would get paired with did not speak english and were struggling so I would help them understand and I was basically a free translator partly because I was not going to be a dick and say NO I wont help you and you should sink because you don’t know english. 

I would get paired with the girls. I would always have a place to sit which was at the table with the girls who did not english but also the girls who were in touch with our culture aka the chicanas that were proud and kinda of did not care about school. But I always had a place because I was willing to help these girls and they would thank me and feel like a burden about having ti distract me I did not care. Because it was my job to do that. I felt like I had to do because I’ve seen the other side of the border. I knew their struggles. I knew exactly but not really. These are some of their stories. 

I was close with one of the girls who was from el Salvador. I did not really like her honestly. Since she was full of herself. But she told me why she came to the U.S. she had told me that gangs were taking over her neighborhood. That her friends were being kidnapped and raped. She had to leave without saying goodbye to her grandma since she lived with her and she went to the U.S. on a visa because her my mom lived her. She told me other everynight she made her step dad tortillas. Since I would point out her nails being disgusting and she said she tried to clean them. We were good friends but I hate people full of themselves. I would help her with anything related to english class. 

Most of the students who were from another country would have to be accommodated since most of them did not know english. 

I knew another girl who I loved talking to since she was patience but sadly she felt like a burden she said she wanted to stay in Mexico since she missed her parents. She lived with a family friend. But she did not have a choice. We did not have much in common since my interests in high school were different. I was more of a pretentious asshole. She came to the U.S. because the cartel were taking young girls and killing their families and her family did not want her to be next. She told me that eventually her parents stopped answering her calls and she never knew what happened to them... She said she couldn’t do much since she was here. Many girls loved her since was calm and fun to be around. She reminded me of my cousin who came into the U.S. She was so tan and I knew she had crossed the border because I just knew her tan told me she did. I never asked or pointed it out. She just told me legally she had to go to school since was 15. 

Other than that I did not really want to be the student who translated but I normally was. That’s all I could remember being in High School. 

[tales-of-mx]

My dad would cross 12/13 times from what he recall.

He never paid a coyete because they’re crooks and my dad would always try to remember the route and bring people over by reminding the route. 

They caught my dad 9 times when crossing and one time my dad caught the train to escape the immigrant. A lot of people die this way because you have to take the train when its running. Everytime when my dad caught the train he was caught by immigrant and you have to run when they catch you. 

One time when my dad was caught he was with a family and the woman the sons were thristy so they went to someones property to grab water and sheriff caught them then took them back to mexico. 

But every time he was caught by immigrant they would throw them back to mexico and would never ask for his name or ask for anything. He said once they did but that is because he gave the police a hard time. 

He had this happened all in the 80s. 

My dad would always cross petras niegras. 

Once time my dad brought in my mom when she did not have a passport so he brought my mom by plane and this was happening 1989. Then my mom went to 1993 to see family and my mom did not have papers and my mom had my brother who was 3 years old and my brother had to cross without my parents but with a friend. My dad helped my mom cross el bravo 

[tales-of-mx]

Mother Interview

My mom would cross the el rio bravo but my mom had a passport. My mom did not know to go to the checkpoint or cross the river so my mom crossed the river because my mom was confused. With a friend and did not know what to do since they did not know anything about checkpoint but only knew about the crossing the river. 

My mom asked the Mexican police what to do and he did not direct them and did tell them where to go but. She talked to the Mexican police to check the passport and she said they were good to go. 

My mom crossed 1985 and my mom was 21 years old. And my moms friend was 27. She was from the same village/ranch that my mom was from. 

My mom would cross 1985/86 the border of Juarez and it was not hard to cross since all you had to do was gun it when immigration was looking the other way. Same with El Paso and the only time it would hard to cross was when it was raining since it would bring. Before the amnesty it was super easy to cross 

Bridge liberty and Stanton was where you would cross. 

My mom would cross often from mexico to the U.S. just to errand extra money and bring it back to Mexico. By babysitting and go party with her friends. 

[tales-of-mx]

My border expierence: The Fear

Well I know most know about my border experience. This class is also coming into an end. So ill just add this. 

I came into this class scared honestly. Most of the students in the class have never ever felt the fear of being separated or of being torn from your family without a choice and you can tell just by the way they carry themselves. I came in the class dreading it. Because I knew about the border I know about what goes on and I know the horrors. My culture has embedded this fear of the border and the jokes of la migra. Because this is what I have grown up to know about the border. I was scared because of the students who would ask me questions about the border and I would not know to respond since they probably would have no taken it seriously. Especially a school that is texas tech it is different is not south dallas or east LA.Even then most of those kids in south dallas never really took things seriously honestly. Since it was not something I enjoyed talking about because of my feelings written below. 

Because I have experienced the awful side of the border and it is scary and how much anxiety I get going and crossing because I get scared I will never see my family or my life in the U.S. again. I am crossing into a world that I hardly know of but my parents know a great deal of. I get scared because of the dangers that lurk on the other side and the border takes advantage of whoever and whatever they can. Even if it is on the U.S. side because as they know I’m a citizen but my parents they could toss them out like criminals. 

I hate crossing. I have never experience the fear of staying awake when you cross because you have to be on guard. You have no choice. I remember growing up and being woken my parents to be looking alive and don’t let your guard down because anyone at this point could take advantage of the situation because they have a power and authority. Staying awake for hours is sometimes what I would have to do. People feel so safe when their at home and never have experienced this feeling.Of having someone take advantage of your life as you go into another country even if it is a government official.

The world is different in every way and this one of the way the border sucks and I hate it. Because it is different than what my parents use to experience as young adults. Being able to walk back and forth but with cation not with fear. They had nothing to lose. I do when I cross. I have the fear of someone actually taking my important documents and murdering me for them. Yes that is a common thing. Yes it is something I fear every time i go to mexico. Every-time. Then the other fear is being taken hostage. I was told growing up to never ever I mean ever walk alone in Mexico without my cousins. Because of the fact it happens. A U.S. american known to hold worth because the family would be considered to have money. This was my dads constant fear. People would know I was American because the way I dress is different. By that I mean my clothes are not faded from drying in the sun or I just wear clothes just to have clothes but for style purposes is why most people dress. I would be considered a target already. It is fear like these that why I do not think anyone in the class would understand. 

Then sadness because it is also terrible things you hear about in Mexico that you cannot share with others the happy and amazing things there is like the dances and the art and the music. That most people know of the fear because the fear is what keeps people away. Who would want to visit a country with amazing delicious food but also have the constant fear of someone killing them.

[tales-of-mx]

the word chicano/a

My parents and I have talked about the chicano movement. My parents for some reason have always strongly been against the word chicano because it means you’re not educated enough in your culture. It is considered sort of a bad word? Its like if you talked about oh that woman you know the chicana she does not know what she is doing. Instead of saying oh yeah that young woman she does not know what she is doing. It is not a polite term to use I have no idea why...? I’m guessing because you’re too Americanize and we have no way of referring you. So my dad does not like it when i refer myself as that. Most people who are first generation will not refer to them as chicano/a we are told not to do that because it means you have given into the american culture and you have no knowledge of you're culture. It is an interesting concept. 

[tales-of-mx]

Regarding Tuesdays Discussion

I remember my mother coming to the U.S. and growing up and going to the latin store to buy mexican products. But then at one point we had stopped because it was so expensive to try to keep up the lifestyle of buying goods that were across the border. This was before Walmart had mexican produce and products which were a bit cheaper. 

These products that are coming in from the border are sometimes essentials to households. Growing up my friends would tell me that the latin store would be out of a product and their parents just did not buy the substitute item that was normally american because they did not feel comfortable buying something they were not familiar. This is how my household was growing up. My mother would buy laundry soup and anything laundry related that was from mexico because this is what we were a custom to and this is what we thought would make our clothes cleaner. I still buy laundry cleaning products and cleaning products that are across the border. Even though it is a bit more expensive it something that I feel comfortable with and the smell gives me nostalgia of Mexico. My mom does not anymore since is more expensive. 

My father right now as the corona virus is happening is having trouble buying his products that he gets from the latin store and he uses the substitute but he tells me it is not the same. Since one of them is hair products. Its as if you put a stop on the products that people are custom to people feel uncomfortable and that it is new and feel Americanize.  

[tales-of-mx]

Comments from Class

Borrowing papers is so common in the culture of being a child from immigrant parents. This blog post will be about things I have seen and heard and remember. 

You would hear it growing up when my mom would work in a temp job and in the warehouses she would always talk about who has papers and who does not. Normally burrowing papers was common just to try to get a job that would pay the bare minimum so your children can eat. False papers were common as well. Now all of this is much harder to find since border control has been more stricter over the years. Women that were immigrants were normally the ones who would raise the kids or find a part time. I remember growing up hearing about all of this. I remember being dropped off by family friend or some woman who could babysit me while my mom was at work. They would always tell her that she was lucky that she had papers. It was all because of my dad.

Yes they do charge about three thousand for smuggling people in. It is so expensive and insane how much it is to be charging people to come into a country that will treat immigrants like trash or overlooked or undermined but to become poor again but to live with better opportunities and let your children have a safe future. It always remind me why I am in school and how much harder I have to work to get a degree when many kids take it for-granted to live in a country that so much freedom and is amazing in so many ways. 

My dad would smuggle in people for free and would not charge since he did not believe he should charge. My dad mainly brought in women because many coyotes took advantage of the women that were being brought in. My dad did this for a couple of years way before I was born. My dad told me once when he was smuggling a woman in, she was so short that crossing el rio, he picked her up and put her on his shoulders. He did this since he saw her crying and bawling and terrified for her life. My dad has crossed that river multiple times. He said that the sprained his ankle but it was worth it. My dad was 5′9″ but now with age is much shorter. Just to do some good in the world. My dad was the main person to help immigrants out and would help direct them where they needed to go or offer them a place to stay. My dad and my cousin who are about the same age always did what they could to help out. 

My cousins on my dads side who are more closer to my dads age would always use that “master card” saying that was used in the book the wind doesn’t need a passport. Those cousins are carpenters and know what they’re doing since that is what they’ve learned to do at a young age. I asked them at some point. “Why don’t you stay and live in the U.S. near us?” One of responded “Because in the U.S. I’m dirt poor but in Mexico I’m better off economically.” I never fully understood what he meant since I haven’t seen him in years. But now, I do. My dad told me that my cousins just travel to the U.S. to make money and save up and stay with some family friend then go back once they have enough to do what they need to do. Explains the “MasterCard” saying. 

[tales-of-mx]

Dad Interview: First Time Crossing

Age: 52

What made my dad come to the U.S. was because he wanted to come to the u.s. to make a living wage and not be so dirt poor. He left so young so he could earn money to be a lawyer in mexico. He eventually did have money saved up but he met mother and had my brother so maintaining a family was in mind. He wanted to be a lawyer since lawyers in mexico are considered to be thieves. 

My dad was 16 years old when he traveled the border. My dad would have to across the El Rio Bravo. 

My dad walked two days and two nights in the mountains. Straight walking without sleeping. My dad had food with him and only had food for three days. They only spotted to eat two times a day. Six people including himself from his hometown. The coyote was 34 years old and everyone else was in their late twenties and early third. 

There was a lot of snakes on the mountains. Venomous snakes my dad was terrified for the snakes to bite them. 

My dad was not scared of crossing the rio bravo because he is someone who is hardly scared. He was a bit scared crossing the rio bravo because he did not know how to swim. The water would go to his waste and my dad is 5′9″ and sometimes the water would go to up to his neck. 

When my dad crossed the border he did not pay the coyote but he fled to go on a bus. He and another man from his group were abandoned by the coyote in the mountain. Piedras Negras is where my dad crossed. The bus took them to San Antonio, Austin to Dallas. My dad did not pay any one he simply followed this man. The bus fare was about 30$ for each trip. He stayed with my uncles since they were the oldest of the groups. My dad needed to stay awake during the bus ride and needed to keep track of the bus and keep track of any stops that were ti be made. My dad would hide in the restroom in case of anyone would ask for papers. My dad would have some good luck crossing the border on the bus and hide in the restroom with other people. It was common for check points to check the bathroom but every time my dad would use the bathroom to hide. 

My dad would cross the border five times to help him and helped my mother two times. My dad is proud of how he crossed the border and how he helped others to cross the border. 

[tales-of-mx]

2/11/2020

Today in class there was pictures of the border were shown on a PowerPoint slide. 

I remember being in those long lines during Christmas break getting ready to go back to the U.S. The line trying to go back to the U.S. was always something i dreaded as a kid. I also had major panic attacks due to being taken away as a child. But that was my life. I would panic and be scared and having to wait hours until we would reach a check point. Those nights always reminded me of how the air smelled. It smelled like pollution and dirt, in a way how Lubbock smells but far worst with major anxiety. The lines were filled with cars that had a bunch of junk from peoples homelands. It was interesting to watch people stack their cars with so much of things they would think they need or maybe use or maybe just bring back to their family members. Those lines were what I hated and my parents would always have to ask when they would need to head back since they did not want to be stuck there at night. It is scary. Vendors would line up with snacks ready to sell and make a living off of the people waiting in the cars. Just like how heavy areas with traffic in mexico many vendors just stand there and sell newspapers or snacks. If you had to go to the restroom you would have to go to the side of the road or hold it until the border check point. I remember spending long nights at border checkpoints on the other side and what always stood out was men with big guns which were mexican officers. For some reason mexican police officers have huge guns that shoot rapidly. Never understood why but it did always make me fear them. I slept a lot during border checkpoints and I always felt bad for my dad since he was the one doing the drive. 

I do not miss that part of the border since I always had to be prepared to translate or be prepared if something went wrong. 

[tales-of-mx]

Thursday 2/6/2020

We talked about today about some of the history of Mexico. Which I found interesting. 

I was told from my father that Spanish were terrified of coming more south of the border which is where all the indigenous people lived. That people would not travel south for that reason. 

I do not know that much history behind Mexico expect the Mexican Revolution. My great grandmother use to tell my mom stories of the revolution. That when the soldiers would come into the village, the women would hide in the mountains for days on end because the soldiers would rape the women. My great grandmother would stay there for days until a man from the village would assure the women were safe to come back. 

That is as far as I know anything with mexicos history. And if my room is a mess the phrase: “Your room looks like the Mexican Revolution.” I guess it made that much of an impact, it is a common phrase. 

[tales-of-mx]

Tuesday 2/4/2020

I was put into the group to talk about indigenous people. And it caught my eye about the Taramura people. 

My mom was born in the Chihuahua mountains and she is the first born. The taramura people are native of the north part of mexico region. My moms side of the family helps them by giving them side jobs to earn money. They do not speak Spanish, they speak their native tongue. They do not go to school or get educated or have money. They are people who forgotten and most native people in Mexico generally are. They have no way of understanding the world around them expect to live in their little huts and go about their day to stay alive. 

I have met them a couple of times in my life. My grandma would hire the local Taramura woman and children to just help with farm work. They do not communicate expect by just using their hands and body language. I have never ever met a Taramura man. I have no idea where the men are during the day. But I would remember growing up and visiting the native people in their homes but not being allowed to go in since my mom would not allow it. My grandma would give old clothes to the natives since they do not have enough money to buy clothes. I remember leaving my favorite pair of Keds and never finding the other shoe so my grandma eventually found them and the Taramura woman that worked with my grandma loved them. I think it was because they were glittery koi fish slip-ons. My grandma is very protective of the Taramura women, she would make my grandpa help the women out a lot for explainable like take them to the store from far towns or go far places as long as my grandma was there with them. 

I can describe them as dark skinned, braided hair, native clothing, petite and extremely short. This is why my keds that I lost when i was 10 years old fit that Taramura woman. Normally the children are pan-handling and making jewelry. I actually have a neat bag made by the Taramura people that my aunt gave me, it is made out of tabs from coke cans. 

The natives are treated awfully in Mexico. They are pushed aside and taken advantage of and treated like dirt. They truly are forgotten and lost but that is because the government takes advantage of them. They choose not to remember that they are apart of Mexico and they were there first. They are also a laughing stock to many people in the culture, it is changing now but older generations see being native as something to laugh at since they are slow and far behind the culture. 

Since my dad is mainly indigenous and I am by blood primary indigenous. I have taken a DNA test.  My dad would say “Estoy orgulloso de ser indio” or “Me encanta ser de piel oscura.” Since my dad would get made fun of growing up for being dark-skinned and having a wide nose. The women from my dads side still has some indigenous roots for explain: the women all have braided hair and have the pretty native dresses but they speak Spanish. He has no idea what indigenous tribal they maybe close to since he is not close with his family. I have those similar features also why I do not do my hair in braids because everyone calls out that I look like Sacagawea. It is very embarrassing when people call something similar to that. 

[tales-of-mx]

Greetings and the Beginning

Hello whoever is reading this.

So firstly I want to say I am starting this blog and trying to post every two times a week even with a little thought from what I have from my Mexico-US border writing class. Most likely I will be posting the least one time a week. 

Every post will go into detail about what I have seen, heard and experienced in life on the other side of the border or on the border depending what we talked about that day in class.

I want to say and start off that I am first generation Mexican American. My parents are from a small awful ranch towns. I say awful because I will go later about the small towns. My dad is from Guanjuato, Mexico and my mom is from Durango, Mexico. I have a decent relationship with both of them. But most of the time I do not ask about their up-bringing since as a first generation, it is their jobs to always remind their children how we have it better than them. I grew up hearing the stories of why they moved. My parents came to the U.S. to have a better life for themselves and their children. 

My dad came from a poor ranching family, he was so poor he never had shoes growing up so his feet do not look great do to this. My dad worked on the fields collecting strawberries or what was being grown that season at age of 8 and was being paid about 8 cents a day. He would tell me stories that he would be hungry and would steal from the strawberry fields or any kind of food but if he was caught the landowner would whip them. So before he would leave he would try to sneak out strawberries for my grandma but he knew that would mean slashing and no payment. My dad is the youngest of 8 children and has a 15 year age-gap from his older sister. May Tia Virginia rest in peace. He grew up so poor that he never had a bed to sleep in and would sleep on the cold hard dirt. It gets very cold in that part of Mexico at night. My grandpa was not a great man since he would beat his children when he want to and sell their belongings even if they had worked for them. My grandpa is part indigenous and part Afro-Latino. My grandma is mainly indigenous blood but she was ones from her family who had learned Spanish. So when people met my father he is very dark skinned compared to me. My dad knows nothing of his background expect that. My dad left Mexico to the “promise land” where he had a chance to do better and be better and work hard and actually get paid more. The chance to not be beat by his father or get no where. He would risk everything to get to the other side. He did. 

My mother comes from a well-off family compared to my dad since my grandparents had farming and ranching land. Even though she says it does not but I say she does since studying with a bunch of agriculture majors, they tell me that farming and ranching land is expensive to keep. My grandpa comes from Spanish blood. My grandpa had the green eyes, dirty blonde hair and 6 foot 3 inches. This was because my great great grandparents had come recently from Spain and my great grandma was the first generation to be born in Mexico. They had money from Spain and would travel back often. She apparently was very beautiful from what my mother tells me. She was green eyed and golden blonde hair and tall. My grandma from my moms side, I have no idea the backstory to her family. But all I know she has more indigenous blood and was tall for a woman. This is common since back in the day in Mexico if you were a woman to married to a man, the husbands family would be who you would primary be close with and would see more often than your own. I know more about my mothers background since I grow up more close to them than I did with my fathers. My mom moved to the U.S. for opportunity, sadly there is none over there for woman expect to be married and have children. You do not have a bank account of your own and you have to get permission from your husband. It is disgusting. It is now changing since 2nd wave of feminism is happening currently in the country. My cousin from my mothers side goes to mexico city to the marches. 

My parents met in El Paso, Texas. My mom was a nanny to one of her cousins children. My father was helping with side jobs, so he would just stand on the side of the road and wait for someone to pick him up for a job. He picked up English fast since he was 15. My mother was 18 when she came to the U.S. As years past my dad met my mom through mutual friends. They did not hit it off. But they made it work some how. They received green cards through Regans Amnesty act. This is why my dad is more on the republican side because of Regan. My dad could go on and on how much he loves him.