Thanksgiving is not a holiday in Mexico. We don't have a big turkey dinner or get days off from school or work. But it's one of my favorite holidays, and one I celebrated every year when I lived in the USA. I think that giving thanks is a good thing, something people should do more often, and this year I have a lot to be thankful for.
Last Sunday, November the 23rd to be exact, started like any other Sunday since I've been in Mexico, I got up early to catch up with laundry and house keeping, the kids and I had a late breakfast, we played with the dogs outside, the hours rolled in while we worked around the house and it got to late to make it to church so we just skipped it. After lunch, the kids went upstairs to watch tv while I worked on my planning for the coming week.
I was sitting at the dining room table, right across from the window that looks into the patio, a big window that lets in enough outside light, perfect for filing papers, planning class, and catching up on grading and tests, I could hear the kids playing upstairs, all of a sudden I hear a noise and as I look up and out the window, I saw the screen from the upstairs window make it's way to the ground, then, right then, right that second, my life came to a stop, time froze for an instant, only to start again like a slow motion film, it was the longest yet fastest second of my life, right after the window's screen hit the ground, I heard a yell and I saw my 5 year old boy, my baby, my life, flying, falling to the ground. I screamed, I stood up and ran outside, still screaming, with a voice I had never heard before, like a wounded animal. I don't know how long it took for his little body to hit the hard tile floor, I don't know how long it took me to run outside, it must have been minutes, but to me it felt like an eternity. When I came outside he was already in all fours trying to get up, he was crying and I could see he was badly hurt, I felt like fainting, but probably mother's instinct and adrenaline prevented me from passing out, I picked him up and ran outside, screaming, yelling for help, my 7 year old daughter tagging behind me.
The neighbors, who had heard the horryfing screaming, were already coming out of their houses to see what had happened, one of them immidiately started calling for an ambulance, I ran with my son in my arms to my mom's house, she lives about half a block away from me, another set of neighbors took me and my son in their car to the ER of a private hospital (Hospital del Nino), my mother took my daughter and called my sister so they could meet us at the hospital, my dad was out of town, so my sister need to give my mom a ride.
Eli hadn't lost consciousness at all, he was crying, but it was a little faint cry, on our ride to the hospital, about 5 minutes from the house, I kept looking him in the eye begging him not to fall asleep. When we got there, I put him on one of the stretchers and a doctor came to check him and asked what had happened, they kept talking to him, asking him if he knew where he was and if he knew who I was, he answered to all the questions, but he was in a lot of pain, and I could see he was starting to drift away, so I kept touching his hand, afraid to touch anything else, in case his bones were broken, and telling him he would be OK, but the worst thing was, I really didn't know if he was gonna be OK.
My mom, my sister and little Paloma got there a few minutes after us, and it was on the next hour when I wished I had never come back to this country, to a country that claims itself free and of high family values, and no discrimination and so on. This private hospital we were at, is subsidized by the government, is not as expensive as real private hospital, but it's not free either, it's a pediatrics specialized hospital, and that's the reason I brought my child there. Obviously my son needed X rays, to look for fractures, he needed an IV, to give him a medicine that would prevent a seizure in case of skull fracture and brain bleeding, well, I didn't have cash, of course I didn't, I don't even know how I had shoes on, I don't remember putting on my shoes, I don't remeber if I had them on before I ran out of the house, because I'm usually barefeet in the house, so of course I had no money, and the doctors couldn't do anything, they couldn't take care of my baby, because services have to be paid for before they do them. Are these people crazy? When was I supposed to stop by an ATM, before or after I picked him up from the ground? So we asked them to transfer him to hospital that's under the Social Security, which I have right to since I'm employed and I pay taxes, so it's free when you are employed, well, he needed and ambulance ride to get there, which of course, I had to pay for in cash!! Since I had no money and I wasn't about to leave my child there to go figure out a way to get 1ooo pesos, they said I could call the Red Cross for an ambulance, but the Red Cross policy is to call the hospital from where the service is being requested to get info about the patient, to make a long story short, the hospital told the Red Cross that the child wasn't in grave danger and we didn't need an ambulance, this without Xrays to rule out a fractured spine.
The hospital wouldn't release my son without first taking off the IV with the medicine to prevent seizures, and while my mom argued with the doctors, I took the IV from the little hook and grabbed my boy and ran out the door. My mom and daughter ran after me and jumped in the car with us and we took him to Seguro 1., where thank God, he was seen by a doctor and sent to Xrays right away. I still can't believe the other hospital would deny us service because we couldn't pay in cash at the moment, I offered them a credit card, but of course, they don't take credit, I told them I would get someone to go get cash for me, but that had to go through the administrators office first, of course to me, all this felt like a waste of precious minutes, minutes that could make the difference in my child's life. What kind of country is this? That's all I could think off, and I wished I was back in Virginia, where I knew they wouldn't have asked for cash right away, even if I had to spend the rest of my life writing montly checks to the hosptial, he would've been taken care off right away. The Social Security hospital where we were at is really not what you think a hospital should be like, and although the doctors are great, and well prepared and experienced, the hosptial itself is terrible, there were roaches crawling all over the floor, there's no single rooms, all the "salas", sections are over crowed, only one relative per patient can be there, and all you get is a little chair to sit on, that's if there's any chairs available, there's no soap in the bathroom, no toilet paper, the equipment is old, anyhow, I really wished I was back in American soil, even if Ihave to put up with the eternal questions of "How you got here? Do you all speak Mexican?" I could hear those questions again and again and not get tired of them as long as my children are getting proper medical care.
Miracoulosly, after a two day stay in the hospital, a CAT scan and a whole collection of X rays, my son came home with nothing but a couple bruises, all the doctors and nurses that took care of him in the hospital kept calling him "miracle boy", because they couldn't explain how after a fall like that, 5 meters down onto hard concrete, he was even alive, they couldn't explain either how none of his bones were broken or how come he was awake the whole time, except for night time, he pretty much kept his regular bedtime even in the hospital.
So this years Thanksgiving was very special to me and my family, and eventhough I didn't get out of work till 9 that night, and eventhough we didn't have a nice turkey dinner, I was very grateful, I'm thankful that my baby boy is OK, and that little Paloma was such a good sport and stayed at her aunt's house for a couple days without complaining, and that eventhough she was scared, she knew mommy couldn't be with her and she had to be strong, I'm thankful for my parents, because they were there for me the whole time, they helped out in everyway they could, and I'm grateful I have such great sisters, and a brother, who took care of my daughter, and brought Eli doughnuts when he got out of the hospital. I'm also thankful for my coworkers, who covered for me the day I had to miss and kept asking how my son was doing, and I thanful for all my friends here and in Virginia who sent get well wishes and prayers for us, for my relatives that stopped by the hospital to lend a hand, and the ones who called to check on us.
I'm grateful too, for the doctors that took care of him, eventhough the hospital is falling apart.
Hopefully soon enough I'll get a visa, so I can go back to the USA and be able to work and live there like any other American, and when I'm there, I'll celebrate Thanksgiving the American way again.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Have you ever walked into a candy store with a 5 year old? Do you remember being youn and going to one? How on your way there you knew exactly what you wanted, you had your mind set on your favorite candy bar or lollypop, but once you walked in, oh surprise, so many choices, so many colors, and flavors, so much variety to choose from, and you stand there, looking, thinking, doubting yourself, did you really want that candy bar? wouldn't some wild cherry chews be better? or the newest and improved chewing gum which flavor lasts all day? So after terribly long minutes of dispair, you choose something, you feel pretty comofortable with your choice, you pay for it, you walk out, and as soon as you have a taste, you regret your decision, you wished you had bought that candy bar after all.
Well, that's how I feel lately, but unfortunately my decisions aren't over candy bars and lollypops anymore...
About a year ago, I knew what I wanted, I had a decision made, I wanted to go back to my country, I wanted to get a job, I wanted to be independant, I wanted to feel free, I wanted to be in my hometown, where life is hectic, and days go by so quick, it's like you go to bed on Monday and wake up on Friday, the only hint of fall is the coolness in the air, no leaves changing or falling of trees. You know it's winter because the bugs have gone to sleep and the tile floors shoot streaks of cold up your spine if you walk barefeet. The town is so big, I feel like I should leave a trace of crumbs every time I go out so I can get back home, like Hansel and Grettel did. I work every day, every hour of the day, and although I enjoy it, I miss having time for my children, and for myself .
I came to Mexico in May, it's November and I miss the simple quiet life in Virginia, where the days were long and went by slowly, where every time the phone rang, I could pretty much make an asserted bet to who it was, because only a handful of people would call, where the town was so small that I knew every street, every store, every traffic light. Where my weeks were higlighted by a playgroup or lunch with friends, where you know the fall will come, every year at the same time, with the same shades of orange and red, and the winter will follow with it's beautiful blanket of white.
Unfortunately, I won't be able to go back to live there in a long long time, not till my children are old enough to sponsor me and get a visa for me. And the sad part of the story is that if I did go back to live there, I would miss Mexico, and my crazy work hours, and my crazy family and they way they all have a say in my life. I would miss the freedom that I didn't have in the USA for such a long time.
Maybe one day I'll know what I want....
Well, that's how I feel lately, but unfortunately my decisions aren't over candy bars and lollypops anymore...
About a year ago, I knew what I wanted, I had a decision made, I wanted to go back to my country, I wanted to get a job, I wanted to be independant, I wanted to feel free, I wanted to be in my hometown, where life is hectic, and days go by so quick, it's like you go to bed on Monday and wake up on Friday, the only hint of fall is the coolness in the air, no leaves changing or falling of trees. You know it's winter because the bugs have gone to sleep and the tile floors shoot streaks of cold up your spine if you walk barefeet. The town is so big, I feel like I should leave a trace of crumbs every time I go out so I can get back home, like Hansel and Grettel did. I work every day, every hour of the day, and although I enjoy it, I miss having time for my children, and for myself .
I came to Mexico in May, it's November and I miss the simple quiet life in Virginia, where the days were long and went by slowly, where every time the phone rang, I could pretty much make an asserted bet to who it was, because only a handful of people would call, where the town was so small that I knew every street, every store, every traffic light. Where my weeks were higlighted by a playgroup or lunch with friends, where you know the fall will come, every year at the same time, with the same shades of orange and red, and the winter will follow with it's beautiful blanket of white.
Unfortunately, I won't be able to go back to live there in a long long time, not till my children are old enough to sponsor me and get a visa for me. And the sad part of the story is that if I did go back to live there, I would miss Mexico, and my crazy work hours, and my crazy family and they way they all have a say in my life. I would miss the freedom that I didn't have in the USA for such a long time.
Maybe one day I'll know what I want....
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Trouble maker
Since I was very young, I was labeled as a trouble maker, I remember one time, when I was about 4 or 5 years old, I hid under a bed at my grandmas house, and even as I heard everyone screaming my name, and even as I saw the commotion of everyone looking for me, my grandma even went out into the street thinking I might have gone out, even after all that, all I did was stay still and quiet, till the scream of "She's here" that came from out of my siblings mouth startled me and brought me back into reality. All the adults were crying tears of joy, they were so happy to find me that I didn't even get a spanking, my mom held me and hugged me, and they all soon forgot all the trouble I had caused. I didn't mean to cause any trouble, I just wanted to be left alone, I just wanted to be invisible for a while.
Yesterday I got in trouble again, the whole family got invited to a party, were one of my best friends from childhood was gonna be. He's married and has children, I hadn't seen him in over 10 years, he offered to give me a ride home, which I gladly accepted, because it would be the perfect chance to be alone with him and talk and catch up, well, he brought me home and in all the chatting and catching up, he ended being gone from the party, where his wife anxiously waited, for over an hour, everyone was mad and worried sick, and I must admit, taking off with him like that wasn't the smartest or nicest thing to do, but we didn't care, we wanted to see each other, to talk, to be taken back to 199o something, when life was easy, when we pain, lonenliness, worry, and divorce weren't words in our everyday vocabulary, when all we wanted to do was to grow up and be independant and move out of our parents house, see the world , and here we were now, wondering how it all happened so quick, wondering how we ended up like we did, me almost divorced and struggling to bring up two kids, him already divorced once, going for the second.
I'm almost thirty and again I feel the same, I want to just hide for a while, be submerged in the stillness and quietness that you could only find on a hiding spot like under a bed, of course I don't fit under any of the beds in my house now, so my hiding places have to be more complex now, I hide behind my everyday life, I hide my sadness behind a broad smile, I hide my desperation under 60 work hours a week, tears are the hardest thing to hide though, when my kids ask why do we have to walk? why don't we have a car? why don't we have more money? more food? why is daddy gone? that's when I wish I was still 4 years old and I could crawl under a bed and be there for a long time, quiet, still, waiting, knowing that I had caused trouble, but hoping to be gone long enough for everyone to forget about it.
Yesterday I got in trouble again, the whole family got invited to a party, were one of my best friends from childhood was gonna be. He's married and has children, I hadn't seen him in over 10 years, he offered to give me a ride home, which I gladly accepted, because it would be the perfect chance to be alone with him and talk and catch up, well, he brought me home and in all the chatting and catching up, he ended being gone from the party, where his wife anxiously waited, for over an hour, everyone was mad and worried sick, and I must admit, taking off with him like that wasn't the smartest or nicest thing to do, but we didn't care, we wanted to see each other, to talk, to be taken back to 199o something, when life was easy, when we pain, lonenliness, worry, and divorce weren't words in our everyday vocabulary, when all we wanted to do was to grow up and be independant and move out of our parents house, see the world , and here we were now, wondering how it all happened so quick, wondering how we ended up like we did, me almost divorced and struggling to bring up two kids, him already divorced once, going for the second.
I'm almost thirty and again I feel the same, I want to just hide for a while, be submerged in the stillness and quietness that you could only find on a hiding spot like under a bed, of course I don't fit under any of the beds in my house now, so my hiding places have to be more complex now, I hide behind my everyday life, I hide my sadness behind a broad smile, I hide my desperation under 60 work hours a week, tears are the hardest thing to hide though, when my kids ask why do we have to walk? why don't we have a car? why don't we have more money? more food? why is daddy gone? that's when I wish I was still 4 years old and I could crawl under a bed and be there for a long time, quiet, still, waiting, knowing that I had caused trouble, but hoping to be gone long enough for everyone to forget about it.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Change
I remember being about 5 years old, and waking up one day to realize I had changed, I wasn't sure if it had been overnight, I wasn't sure if everybody else could see it, but I could, I stared long and hard at the mirror, a big mirror on top of my grandma's dresser, I stared at my lips and my cheeks, they looked different, my face was thiner, my eyes had always been way to big for my face, or I thought so, but today I just looked different, I remember going into the kitchen and asking my grandma if she noticed anything different, she simply said NO and kept making my favorite breakfast, chocolate pancakes.
My body has since changed in many ways of course, from a skinny child, to a chubby teenager, and so on. My mind and soul have changed too, from a rebelious teenager to a somewhat calmer adult. My likes in food, chocolate pancakes are not my favorite anymore, now a days a cup of coffee will do. All this changes are I imagine normal in everyones life, but I have always felt that the changes in my life are always quick and drastic, just like when I was 5 and I woke up looking different, feeling different, a couple of months ago I woke up at 28 realizing it had happened again.
I didn't only come back to my country, a country I almost don't recognize anymore after 8 years of not being here, but now I'm separated from my husband of 8 years, almost divorced and working to make a living. Life is changing quickly for me, maybe faster than it should, maybe is me that's slow to take it all in.
Change has knocked on my door again, unannouced, not a courtesy call saying it was coming to visit, and I once more stare at the mirror, wondering how this happened, wondering if everyone else can see it.
My body has since changed in many ways of course, from a skinny child, to a chubby teenager, and so on. My mind and soul have changed too, from a rebelious teenager to a somewhat calmer adult. My likes in food, chocolate pancakes are not my favorite anymore, now a days a cup of coffee will do. All this changes are I imagine normal in everyones life, but I have always felt that the changes in my life are always quick and drastic, just like when I was 5 and I woke up looking different, feeling different, a couple of months ago I woke up at 28 realizing it had happened again.
I didn't only come back to my country, a country I almost don't recognize anymore after 8 years of not being here, but now I'm separated from my husband of 8 years, almost divorced and working to make a living. Life is changing quickly for me, maybe faster than it should, maybe is me that's slow to take it all in.
Change has knocked on my door again, unannouced, not a courtesy call saying it was coming to visit, and I once more stare at the mirror, wondering how this happened, wondering if everyone else can see it.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Home country can affect debate about immigration
Today a good friend of mine from Virginia emailed me a link to a story on the news paper The Newsleader about a family and their immigration situation. I invite all of you to read it, it's very interesting and speaks many truths.
One of those truths, is one I lived with many years. One people deny but it's still the truth. Being an immigrant, and being a Mexican immigrant are two very different things. Mexico has to it's advantage and disadvantage, a geographic position like no other country, we are neighbors, we are right there, we are so close it's scary for many. Because we are so close, it's easier for Mexican immigrants to cross the border and bring their families with them, making immigration waves from this country larger than from many other countries, therefore, prejudice against Mexicans is stronger and more and more common.
I always joked with my friends, that if I was from Europe, people would comment nicely, almost flirtatiously, what a nice accent! but since I'm from Mexico, most people that would comment on it, would do it with a bit of disdain, like saying, hmm, you are only Mexican!
Anyhow, please read the article and don't forget to leave your comments.
Thanks
http://www.newsleader.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080616/OPINION02/806160308/-1/&source=nletter-news
One of those truths, is one I lived with many years. One people deny but it's still the truth. Being an immigrant, and being a Mexican immigrant are two very different things. Mexico has to it's advantage and disadvantage, a geographic position like no other country, we are neighbors, we are right there, we are so close it's scary for many. Because we are so close, it's easier for Mexican immigrants to cross the border and bring their families with them, making immigration waves from this country larger than from many other countries, therefore, prejudice against Mexicans is stronger and more and more common.
I always joked with my friends, that if I was from Europe, people would comment nicely, almost flirtatiously, what a nice accent! but since I'm from Mexico, most people that would comment on it, would do it with a bit of disdain, like saying, hmm, you are only Mexican!
Anyhow, please read the article and don't forget to leave your comments.
Thanks
http://www.newsleader.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080616/OPINION02/806160308/-1/&source=nletter-news
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Home again
Hi everyone, I'm happy to tell you that I'm writing from Mexico, I love the US, it's a place a called home for a very long time, but at this point in my life I felt I needed to go back to my roots, to be able to regain an identity that seemed to be fading away.
I've been in my hometown for about two weeks now, and I must say, it feels really weird, everything is so different, yet the same, the town has grown so much, there's new schools, stores and so on on every corner, and overpasses everywhere. But the people is the same, the tight bonds shared with family and friends are as strong as ever, unweakened by time, if anything, stronger even.
It was so strange walking into my parents house, althoug it has been remodeled and has additions and what not, it was like I had been there yesterday and nothing was new, the same smells and sounds were still there, it almost broght tears to my eyes when I went in what used to be my room, now with a huge closet I wish had been there in my teenage years, hahaha.
My children love being around so many cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents and friends, for them language is not a barrier, they are happy just to play with whomever is visiting at the moment and enjoy every bit of it.
I'm still on the quest of becoming an American, but this time it will be on different terms, and even if takes 20 more years, I know one day I'll hold in my hands the "green card" I've so longed for.
I've been in my hometown for about two weeks now, and I must say, it feels really weird, everything is so different, yet the same, the town has grown so much, there's new schools, stores and so on on every corner, and overpasses everywhere. But the people is the same, the tight bonds shared with family and friends are as strong as ever, unweakened by time, if anything, stronger even.
It was so strange walking into my parents house, althoug it has been remodeled and has additions and what not, it was like I had been there yesterday and nothing was new, the same smells and sounds were still there, it almost broght tears to my eyes when I went in what used to be my room, now with a huge closet I wish had been there in my teenage years, hahaha.
My children love being around so many cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents and friends, for them language is not a barrier, they are happy just to play with whomever is visiting at the moment and enjoy every bit of it.
I'm still on the quest of becoming an American, but this time it will be on different terms, and even if takes 20 more years, I know one day I'll hold in my hands the "green card" I've so longed for.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Economy
Like many other Americans, my husband and I have been struggling to make ends meet, from the rising prices at the grocery store to the skyrocketing price of gas it just seems harder than ever to stretch our dollar. So we were really excited to hear about the rebate checks the government was planning to send out to stimulate the economy and help out during this recession ( not a word George Bush chose to use on his speech last week), we didn't have big plans for this money, we weren't gonna go on vacation, or buying a new TV, not even new clothes, we were gonna simply catch up on bills and put the rest in the bank for using later for paying more bills and groceries.
After filing for it (jointly) we waited, and waited and waited, finally my husband called IRS last week and was told something we could not believe, we did not qualify for it, because I don't have a social security number yet, my husband was sure this must be a mistake, he thought maybe the person he spoke to on the phone was misinformed or confused or simply stupid, how could this be, my husband is a legal resident, has been for more than six years, our two children are American citizens, and I have been on the immigration process for more than five years, this had to be a mistake.
Well, it wasn't a mistake, it's true, according to a news article on yahoo (link below) the IRS made it a rule that nobody with a foreign spouse without a social security number would qualify for this rebate, in order to prevent "illegals" to get the money, I guess fearing they would spend it on their own country instead of the US.
I understand the reasoning behind this rule, and it really wouldn't be fair for the money to go to other countries when it's meant to somehow restore the economy of the USA, but at the same time, I think is unfair that many hard working legal immigrants like my husband cannot benefit from something like this when it's not his fault (or mine) that the legalization process takes so long. We like everybody else, live in the US, spend our money here, and pay taxes here, maybe IRS should've thought this through a little better.
As you can read in the news article, not only "Mexicans" will be affected by this, but many "All American" military man and woman, who put their life at risk everyday for our country will suffer the consequences as well if their spouses are like me on the long immigration process.
Maybe I don't deserve $600 dls. even if I was going to spend them here, but I think my husband who works hard every day to put a roof over my head, and my children, who are just like any other American children, deserve what every one else is getting.
http://us.rd.yahoo.com/dailynews/ap/ap_on_bi_ge/storytext/tax_rebates_left_out/27431478/SIG=10kt0t3ql/*http://www.irs.gov
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080511/ap_on_bi_ge/tax_rebates_left_out
After filing for it (jointly) we waited, and waited and waited, finally my husband called IRS last week and was told something we could not believe, we did not qualify for it, because I don't have a social security number yet, my husband was sure this must be a mistake, he thought maybe the person he spoke to on the phone was misinformed or confused or simply stupid, how could this be, my husband is a legal resident, has been for more than six years, our two children are American citizens, and I have been on the immigration process for more than five years, this had to be a mistake.
Well, it wasn't a mistake, it's true, according to a news article on yahoo (link below) the IRS made it a rule that nobody with a foreign spouse without a social security number would qualify for this rebate, in order to prevent "illegals" to get the money, I guess fearing they would spend it on their own country instead of the US.
I understand the reasoning behind this rule, and it really wouldn't be fair for the money to go to other countries when it's meant to somehow restore the economy of the USA, but at the same time, I think is unfair that many hard working legal immigrants like my husband cannot benefit from something like this when it's not his fault (or mine) that the legalization process takes so long. We like everybody else, live in the US, spend our money here, and pay taxes here, maybe IRS should've thought this through a little better.
As you can read in the news article, not only "Mexicans" will be affected by this, but many "All American" military man and woman, who put their life at risk everyday for our country will suffer the consequences as well if their spouses are like me on the long immigration process.
Maybe I don't deserve $600 dls. even if I was going to spend them here, but I think my husband who works hard every day to put a roof over my head, and my children, who are just like any other American children, deserve what every one else is getting.
http://us.rd.yahoo.com/dailynews/ap/ap_on_bi_ge/storytext/tax_rebates_left_out/27431478/SIG=10kt0t3ql/*http://www.irs.gov
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080511/ap_on_bi_ge/tax_rebates_left_out
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Anchor Babies
People have babies for many reasons, because they are in love, because they want to feel loved, because it was the right time, because it was the next step, because their biologic clock is tick, tick, ticking away. But according to some of the media, illegal immigrants have babies with just one reason in mind, to obtain legal citizenship. Babies born in the US from ilegal parents are refered to as anchor babies.
Well, I must have missed the memo, because after two intense 24 hr. labors, two painful epidurals, hours of pushing, couple gallons of blood, a six pound girl and an eight pound boy, I wasn't granted such thing.
I've been on the immigration waiting line for 5 yrs. and after many sleepless nights, thousands of dollars on baby diapers and needless to say Hospital Bills!! I keep waiting, so if there's such thing as Automatic Legalization just for having a baby in the US, I must say I feel duped, because if that was the only reason to have children I would've stopped after one painful delivery!
The only way to obtain legal citizenship through your children is to wait till they become of legal age (like driving and voting age) and for them to apply for you and sponsor you, and of course that would at least take a couple years.
Having children, as anybody that has them knows, is very expensive and it's a lifetime commitment, so I wonder who would be stupid enough to want to have children for a green card, facts remain, people will keep having babies for many different reasons, I just will have to disagree when anyone says that legalization is one of them.
Well, I must have missed the memo, because after two intense 24 hr. labors, two painful epidurals, hours of pushing, couple gallons of blood, a six pound girl and an eight pound boy, I wasn't granted such thing.
I've been on the immigration waiting line for 5 yrs. and after many sleepless nights, thousands of dollars on baby diapers and needless to say Hospital Bills!! I keep waiting, so if there's such thing as Automatic Legalization just for having a baby in the US, I must say I feel duped, because if that was the only reason to have children I would've stopped after one painful delivery!
The only way to obtain legal citizenship through your children is to wait till they become of legal age (like driving and voting age) and for them to apply for you and sponsor you, and of course that would at least take a couple years.
Having children, as anybody that has them knows, is very expensive and it's a lifetime commitment, so I wonder who would be stupid enough to want to have children for a green card, facts remain, people will keep having babies for many different reasons, I just will have to disagree when anyone says that legalization is one of them.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Broken Home
Hi everyone, sorry I haven't updated like I should, but this blogging thing has proven to be a lot harder than I thought, writing about my feelings, and sharing it with so many of you, has opened a door I thought long closed. I find myself missing my family and my country more and more each day. I thought I had assimilated, I thought I wasn't homesick anymore, I thought I was happy, but to be honest, now I don't really know what I think.
I picture myself feeling like a child from divorced parents might feel... I have two countries I love, each of them has given me so much, and now I'm torn apart, trying to decide where I really want to be, which one I love the most.
Do I want to be in Mexico? Where my family is, where I spent the first 20 years of my life, where I became who I am today? Do I want to live in the US, where my children were born, where I found a whole new family made of loving and caring friends and where I've grown so much?
Some of you might say, "Just go back to your country if you miss it that much", but the thing is, THIS is my country too!! At least I think so sometimes, and some other times I feel like such an outsider, do other people feel like me? I remember feeling like an outsider in Mexico sometimes, I guess you can feel like an outsider in your own family....
What would you do? Have you ever felt like me?
I picture myself feeling like a child from divorced parents might feel... I have two countries I love, each of them has given me so much, and now I'm torn apart, trying to decide where I really want to be, which one I love the most.
Do I want to be in Mexico? Where my family is, where I spent the first 20 years of my life, where I became who I am today? Do I want to live in the US, where my children were born, where I found a whole new family made of loving and caring friends and where I've grown so much?
Some of you might say, "Just go back to your country if you miss it that much", but the thing is, THIS is my country too!! At least I think so sometimes, and some other times I feel like such an outsider, do other people feel like me? I remember feeling like an outsider in Mexico sometimes, I guess you can feel like an outsider in your own family....
What would you do? Have you ever felt like me?
Monday, April 14, 2008
TOhis BE or NOT TO BE
I understand the frustration of tax paying US citizens, how many times have I heard that on the news or read it on the paper, people are tired of illegal immigrants who don't pay taxes and take advantage of the government benefits. Why won't they just become legal?
It is the purpose of my blog to express in a respectful way, the views of the so called illegal immigrants.
I came into this country with a tourist visa, it wasn't really my intention to stay, I loved my country, and yes, I won't lie, the are many wrong things with it, we had a very corrupt government for many years, the current President is still trying to clean out all the scorn that made it's way into official positions, I didn't have the best clothes or the latest gadgets, but I wasn't starving either, I got and education and could make a descent living for my self.
Nevertheless, I stayed, I was pregnant when I got here, and by the time I was supposed to be on my way, I was already too far into my pregnancy to risk going all the way back. So I gave birth to my first "Anchor Baby" , a term which most of the media (Glen Beck being one of them) uses to refer to the children of illegal immigrants born on USA soil. (I will cover the Anchor Baby topic on another entry). I didn't apply for residency then, because I was going to go back to Mexico, and I did, and I would've done it earlier if it hadn't been a risk to my pregnancy.
While I was in Mexico, Jose (the father of my baby), whose father had applied for his legal residency about 10 years back, got a call from immigration, they had an answer for him, he traveled to Ciudad Juarez in Mexico and was granted permanent residency in the US. He had to go back to the US within the next 30 days, so he did. All of a sudden I found myself, at 20 yrs. old, with a fatherless newborn. Jose (my baby's father) went back to the states, got a job, and would send money every month, he missed the first 8 months of our baby's life, it was then, that I decided I should join him, we needed to be together, as a family. I applied for another tourist visa, and since I wasn't going to work I wasn't doing anything Illegal. Then I got pregnant again, 40 weeks later I had my second baby (yeah another one of those anchor babies), and it was then that I decided I really did want to live here, and I should apply for my legal residency. I did so in February '03.
It's now 2008, it's been five years since I filed my application, I haven't done anything illegal on the meantime, I haven't run through a red light, or drove under the influence, or any of those things illegal aliens are best known for. Because I'm on a legalization process, it would be illegal for me to work, so I don't. We live on my husband's moderate income. And it's really hard to afford a family of four with one income, my husband usually works more than two jobs so we can make ends meet. Because I don't want to do anything illegal I have to struggle daily knowing I could be out there with the rest of the "criminals" working to put food on my kids table.
So I understand what being illegal means, and I also understand the importance of trying to become legal. But I certainly understand the question that many immigrants face daily in this country To Be or Not to Be. For many to be illegal means being able to work and try to make a better living for their families, for many others like me to be legal (or on the process of it) means to watch your family struggle and know that there's a long wait before you can do anything about it.
It is the purpose of my blog to express in a respectful way, the views of the so called illegal immigrants.
I came into this country with a tourist visa, it wasn't really my intention to stay, I loved my country, and yes, I won't lie, the are many wrong things with it, we had a very corrupt government for many years, the current President is still trying to clean out all the scorn that made it's way into official positions, I didn't have the best clothes or the latest gadgets, but I wasn't starving either, I got and education and could make a descent living for my self.
Nevertheless, I stayed, I was pregnant when I got here, and by the time I was supposed to be on my way, I was already too far into my pregnancy to risk going all the way back. So I gave birth to my first "Anchor Baby" , a term which most of the media (Glen Beck being one of them) uses to refer to the children of illegal immigrants born on USA soil. (I will cover the Anchor Baby topic on another entry). I didn't apply for residency then, because I was going to go back to Mexico, and I did, and I would've done it earlier if it hadn't been a risk to my pregnancy.
While I was in Mexico, Jose (the father of my baby), whose father had applied for his legal residency about 10 years back, got a call from immigration, they had an answer for him, he traveled to Ciudad Juarez in Mexico and was granted permanent residency in the US. He had to go back to the US within the next 30 days, so he did. All of a sudden I found myself, at 20 yrs. old, with a fatherless newborn. Jose (my baby's father) went back to the states, got a job, and would send money every month, he missed the first 8 months of our baby's life, it was then, that I decided I should join him, we needed to be together, as a family. I applied for another tourist visa, and since I wasn't going to work I wasn't doing anything Illegal. Then I got pregnant again, 40 weeks later I had my second baby (yeah another one of those anchor babies), and it was then that I decided I really did want to live here, and I should apply for my legal residency. I did so in February '03.
It's now 2008, it's been five years since I filed my application, I haven't done anything illegal on the meantime, I haven't run through a red light, or drove under the influence, or any of those things illegal aliens are best known for. Because I'm on a legalization process, it would be illegal for me to work, so I don't. We live on my husband's moderate income. And it's really hard to afford a family of four with one income, my husband usually works more than two jobs so we can make ends meet. Because I don't want to do anything illegal I have to struggle daily knowing I could be out there with the rest of the "criminals" working to put food on my kids table.
About illegals getting government help or benefits, I cannot speak for anyone but for myself, my family doesn't get any kind of government funded help, we pay our bills and our taxes like everyone else.
So I understand what being illegal means, and I also understand the importance of trying to become legal. But I certainly understand the question that many immigrants face daily in this country To Be or Not to Be. For many to be illegal means being able to work and try to make a better living for their families, for many others like me to be legal (or on the process of it) means to watch your family struggle and know that there's a long wait before you can do anything about it.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Response to comment
This entry is in reply to Mollie's comment.
Mollie, in your comment you asked my views on the immigrants that don't want to learn the language, and if I know anyone like that, if it's a misconception that they don't want to learn and they do want to learn but don't have the opportunity.
Well, in the almost 8 years I've been in this country I haven't met one immigrant legal or illegal from Mexico or any other country that doesn't want to learn English. I cannot speak for every immigrant, but at least the ones I've had the pleasure to meet have all been hard working people who would love to be able to be fluent on the language of their children and their communities.
English as any language takes a long time to learn, you will find out in my upcoming posts that it took me about 7 to 10 years altogether to have the level of proficiency that I now have, and still there are many words that I don't know, many sounds that I haven't and probably will never master, and it's not due to lack of brains or will, it's because the alphabet I learned as a very young child doesn't have many of the sounds (phonetics) of the English alphabet, I know I will never be able to sound "shoe" the right way, my daughter makes sure to remind me of that every time I tell her to tie hers. She says, "Mommy, is shoe, not choe", or I'll never be able to say zoo or Zoe, no matter how many times I practice or how many hours I spend listening to my children speak, trying to get from them some of that easiness of their speech.
I don't believe anyone enjoys not being understood, weather it's at the register at the store or in a case of emergency. I've been there as an interpreter when doctors deliver bad news to terrified parents about their children's health, does anyone really believe that those parents don't wish they knew English?? Are we really that insensitive to believe that "those" people, "those" immigrants choose to be helpless in that kind of situation??
I know a lot of immigrants that with little or no education, try to make a good living for themselves and their children, that work long hours and come home to rush their children to a tutor or an English speaking friend that can help with homework and translating school letters. Wishing they had the time to find an English class, wishing they had the money to purchase those expensive programs that promise you will learn English in the comfort of your living room.
Maybe one day scientist will come with some sort of Language Pill, but till then, I know a lot of immigrants like me, will spend countless hours and dollars trying to learn English, wishing it wasn't so hard, wishing it didn't take so long, wishing they didn't feel so embarrassed when people don't know what you are saying and you know you are trying your best, it sounded right on your head, but somehow your thought got lost in translation.
Mollie, in your comment you asked my views on the immigrants that don't want to learn the language, and if I know anyone like that, if it's a misconception that they don't want to learn and they do want to learn but don't have the opportunity.
Well, in the almost 8 years I've been in this country I haven't met one immigrant legal or illegal from Mexico or any other country that doesn't want to learn English. I cannot speak for every immigrant, but at least the ones I've had the pleasure to meet have all been hard working people who would love to be able to be fluent on the language of their children and their communities.
English as any language takes a long time to learn, you will find out in my upcoming posts that it took me about 7 to 10 years altogether to have the level of proficiency that I now have, and still there are many words that I don't know, many sounds that I haven't and probably will never master, and it's not due to lack of brains or will, it's because the alphabet I learned as a very young child doesn't have many of the sounds (phonetics) of the English alphabet, I know I will never be able to sound "shoe" the right way, my daughter makes sure to remind me of that every time I tell her to tie hers. She says, "Mommy, is shoe, not choe", or I'll never be able to say zoo or Zoe, no matter how many times I practice or how many hours I spend listening to my children speak, trying to get from them some of that easiness of their speech.
I don't believe anyone enjoys not being understood, weather it's at the register at the store or in a case of emergency. I've been there as an interpreter when doctors deliver bad news to terrified parents about their children's health, does anyone really believe that those parents don't wish they knew English?? Are we really that insensitive to believe that "those" people, "those" immigrants choose to be helpless in that kind of situation??
I know a lot of immigrants that with little or no education, try to make a good living for themselves and their children, that work long hours and come home to rush their children to a tutor or an English speaking friend that can help with homework and translating school letters. Wishing they had the time to find an English class, wishing they had the money to purchase those expensive programs that promise you will learn English in the comfort of your living room.
Maybe one day scientist will come with some sort of Language Pill, but till then, I know a lot of immigrants like me, will spend countless hours and dollars trying to learn English, wishing it wasn't so hard, wishing it didn't take so long, wishing they didn't feel so embarrassed when people don't know what you are saying and you know you are trying your best, it sounded right on your head, but somehow your thought got lost in translation.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Learning the Language
My first memory of the English language is as a First grader at the Colegio Nicolas Bravo, an all girl Catholic school which I would attend from the 1st through 4th grade.
I remember playing outside, holding hands on a circle of girls, chanting the words, Ecky-Becky, soda-cracker, Ecky-Becky boo, Ecky-Becky, soda-cracker, I pick you! without having any knowledge of what any of those words meant. I remember singing songs in the classroom during English class about chickens and hens, doors and windows, non of it making much sense to me at the time.
Then, when I was in the 5th grade we moved to a different neighborhood in our same town, and we met a nice family that lived a couple streets down from us, they were Christian Missionaries from Texas and were living in Mexico at the time. They had 5 children, ranging from the ages 2 to 10. Since they were from Texas they spoke English, they spoke Spanish too, but used English more. My younger sister and I quickly became friends with the children, we enjoyed riding bikes together, playing ball, tag, etc. And I loved mimicking they way they spoke, even if I had no idea of what they were saying or if I was saying it wrong, I loved the way the words formed in my mouth, the softness of the R's, the lingering of the Z's.
Mrs. Klingan (the mother) noticing my interest on their language offered to teach me and the other kids in the neighborhood English, for 1 peso, that was about 10 American cents.
She thought us songs and Bible stories and she thought us Words! Words! I was so in love with all those words "purple" "apple" "car" "zoo", the way they sounded, the way you had to hold your throat and roll your tongue way up high in your palate. I was always quick to try to guess the meaning of this words, sometimes I was right, most times wrong.
I learned so much from this woman, little did I know at the time how much. Those were the most well spent pesos in my whole life.
I remember playing outside, holding hands on a circle of girls, chanting the words, Ecky-Becky, soda-cracker, Ecky-Becky boo, Ecky-Becky, soda-cracker, I pick you! without having any knowledge of what any of those words meant. I remember singing songs in the classroom during English class about chickens and hens, doors and windows, non of it making much sense to me at the time.
Then, when I was in the 5th grade we moved to a different neighborhood in our same town, and we met a nice family that lived a couple streets down from us, they were Christian Missionaries from Texas and were living in Mexico at the time. They had 5 children, ranging from the ages 2 to 10. Since they were from Texas they spoke English, they spoke Spanish too, but used English more. My younger sister and I quickly became friends with the children, we enjoyed riding bikes together, playing ball, tag, etc. And I loved mimicking they way they spoke, even if I had no idea of what they were saying or if I was saying it wrong, I loved the way the words formed in my mouth, the softness of the R's, the lingering of the Z's.
Mrs. Klingan (the mother) noticing my interest on their language offered to teach me and the other kids in the neighborhood English, for 1 peso, that was about 10 American cents.
She thought us songs and Bible stories and she thought us Words! Words! I was so in love with all those words "purple" "apple" "car" "zoo", the way they sounded, the way you had to hold your throat and roll your tongue way up high in your palate. I was always quick to try to guess the meaning of this words, sometimes I was right, most times wrong.
I learned so much from this woman, little did I know at the time how much. Those were the most well spent pesos in my whole life.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Top Ten
Here are the Top 10 questions I've been asked since I came to the US.
And some of my answers.
1. Is Mexico a country?
Yes, that large area (761,606 sq. miles) that borders California, Arizona, New Mexico and Texas is a country.
2. How did you get here?
Aah, on an airplane.
3.Are you here to pick the fruit?
No, unless is from the produce section at the supermarket.
4.Do you speak Mexican?
No, I speak Spanish. Spanish is also spoken in about 18 other countries as an official language and many more as a second or non-recognized language.
5.Did you get your house for FREE?
I wish, but NO, I am still paying for it!
6.Do you pay TAXES?
Doesn't everybody?
7.Do you eat beans everyday? Do they give you gas?
No, I don't eat beans every day. Do they give YOU gas??
8.Had you ever had pizza before?
Yes I have, and NO it didn't have beans on it.
9.Do you know how to use a cell phone?
Yes, I do.
10. Do you sleep on the floor?
No, unless I'm camping somewhere.
These are actual questions asked to me by either well intended friends or random people on the store, hospital, school, etc.
I feel like sometimes people in the US look at Mexico more as a foreign planet than a neighboring country, maybe that's why we immigrants are called "Aliens".
And some of my answers.
1. Is Mexico a country?
Yes, that large area (761,606 sq. miles) that borders California, Arizona, New Mexico and Texas is a country.
2. How did you get here?
Aah, on an airplane.
3.Are you here to pick the fruit?
No, unless is from the produce section at the supermarket.
4.Do you speak Mexican?
No, I speak Spanish. Spanish is also spoken in about 18 other countries as an official language and many more as a second or non-recognized language.
5.Did you get your house for FREE?
I wish, but NO, I am still paying for it!
6.Do you pay TAXES?
Doesn't everybody?
7.Do you eat beans everyday? Do they give you gas?
No, I don't eat beans every day. Do they give YOU gas??
8.Had you ever had pizza before?
Yes I have, and NO it didn't have beans on it.
9.Do you know how to use a cell phone?
Yes, I do.
10. Do you sleep on the floor?
No, unless I'm camping somewhere.
These are actual questions asked to me by either well intended friends or random people on the store, hospital, school, etc.
I feel like sometimes people in the US look at Mexico more as a foreign planet than a neighboring country, maybe that's why we immigrants are called "Aliens".
Thursday, April 3, 2008
HOW I GOT HERE
On the next couple of postings I'll try to explain my journey to becoming an American.
Well, I got here pretty much the same way anybody gets here. My parents fell in love and got married back in 1975, and had four children on the course of 7 years. I am the third out of four children, and like any other middle child I quickly learned to blend in or stand out as needed.
My dad is of Spanish descent and my mother of French descent, which explain my fair complexion and freckles.
Mexico was conquered by the Spaniards, then the French took over, and then came the Mexican Revolution in which Mexico finally took over the government of their own country, of course this was way back before my time, but I thought it worth of mention, since a lot of people ignore this facts and find it hard to believe that a Mexican would have French blood running through their veins.
I was born in 1980 in Saltillo, Coah. a town in the north of Mexico, about 6 hours from the border with Texas. As a child, my parents took us on vacation and shopping trips to Corpus Christi, Laredo and Eagle Pass countless of times, so as a young child I already had a bit of knowledge of "the other side" . In order to make this trips, we needed a Border Crossing Card, No we didn't swim across the river or ran through the desert, we simply got in our car and drove.
And that's the story of how I got here as in "this world", how I got HERE to the USA will be told soon, so come back and visit my blog.
Well, I got here pretty much the same way anybody gets here. My parents fell in love and got married back in 1975, and had four children on the course of 7 years. I am the third out of four children, and like any other middle child I quickly learned to blend in or stand out as needed.
My dad is of Spanish descent and my mother of French descent, which explain my fair complexion and freckles.
Mexico was conquered by the Spaniards, then the French took over, and then came the Mexican Revolution in which Mexico finally took over the government of their own country, of course this was way back before my time, but I thought it worth of mention, since a lot of people ignore this facts and find it hard to believe that a Mexican would have French blood running through their veins.
I was born in 1980 in Saltillo, Coah. a town in the north of Mexico, about 6 hours from the border with Texas. As a child, my parents took us on vacation and shopping trips to Corpus Christi, Laredo and Eagle Pass countless of times, so as a young child I already had a bit of knowledge of "the other side" . In order to make this trips, we needed a Border Crossing Card, No we didn't swim across the river or ran through the desert, we simply got in our car and drove.
And that's the story of how I got here as in "this world", how I got HERE to the USA will be told soon, so come back and visit my blog.
First Timer
Hey everybody, I'm really excited, this is my first time posting, for those who know me, the name of the blog is gonna make complete sense, for those who don't you might be wondering, what the??
I decided to use this space to vent my frustrations as I become Legal in this country. There's a lot of misinformation about the way someone becomes "legal", and I just wanted to share with anyone that wants to have a bit of insight in the life of an immigrant.
I decided to use this space to vent my frustrations as I become Legal in this country. There's a lot of misinformation about the way someone becomes "legal", and I just wanted to share with anyone that wants to have a bit of insight in the life of an immigrant.
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