Happy Cinco de Mayo
I have fond memories of Cinco de Mayo. I remember having "tertullias" (spelling is likely way off) for this day....in other words, a huge party where everyone brought their favorite Mexican foods and we pigged out during class. Mrs. McCoy would twirl around in her flowered dress, singing something in indecipherable Spanish, and we would don sombreros and join her. Looking back at it, I cannot imagine such strange ongoings, or imagine how such insecure high schoolers would even submit to such humbling activities with their peers around.
I remember my one (though short) visit into Mexico. I was 10 years old, and my family was vacationing at Galveston Island, Texas. We decided to venture across the border one afternoon just to spend an hour or two. Upon realizing that nothing was in English anymore (even the stop signs), we turned around and left rather quickly. The weather was scorching....it was about 101 degrees that day, and no relief of rain clouds was in sight. We crossed the bridge over the Rio Grande, and waited for an hour or more to get through the border. Young boys walked in and out of the lines of cars, knocking on windows, trying to sell trinkets that they carried in boxes around their necks, much like the cigar girls of the 1930s.
The American officials searched our car, asked us a few questions (i.e., how long was our stay, etc.), and then let us through. Needless to say, my sister and I were full of questions as we drove back up through Texas.
I have not been able to go on a Mexican resort vacation, although I've heard they're wonderful. Yet I'm glad that I saw this part of Mexico....looking like what probably 90% of Mexico looks like....scrubby, worn, and poor. It put perspective on my life and the blessings which surrounded me, even as a very young girl.
I remember my one (though short) visit into Mexico. I was 10 years old, and my family was vacationing at Galveston Island, Texas. We decided to venture across the border one afternoon just to spend an hour or two. Upon realizing that nothing was in English anymore (even the stop signs), we turned around and left rather quickly. The weather was scorching....it was about 101 degrees that day, and no relief of rain clouds was in sight. We crossed the bridge over the Rio Grande, and waited for an hour or more to get through the border. Young boys walked in and out of the lines of cars, knocking on windows, trying to sell trinkets that they carried in boxes around their necks, much like the cigar girls of the 1930s.
The American officials searched our car, asked us a few questions (i.e., how long was our stay, etc.), and then let us through. Needless to say, my sister and I were full of questions as we drove back up through Texas.
I have not been able to go on a Mexican resort vacation, although I've heard they're wonderful. Yet I'm glad that I saw this part of Mexico....looking like what probably 90% of Mexico looks like....scrubby, worn, and poor. It put perspective on my life and the blessings which surrounded me, even as a very young girl.
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