I am a Mexican immigrant that moved to Bloomington Indiana four years ago. I love Bloomington and I think I have a great life here with great friends. However the process to get to this country was rough. My family went through a lot to get us were we are right now. Something like moving to a different country and leaving all you had behind really puts your life in perspective. It really makes you value the things that you really need and then realize what is luxury and unnecessary. Through this change in my life my parents have asked a lot of me. I think I have been an understanding son and although I don’t complain it has been hard.
When I was young my family was relatively wealthy. I was a spoiled kid, I’ll admit it. I never needed anything. We had a maid that cleaned our house. We went to trips to Houston any other month to visit family or just on vacation. My parents were always with us. If I wanted a toy or anything, so long as I had behaved, I would most likely get it. I went to a very expensive bilingual school that my parents paid $3000 dollars a year, just for me to go to. So now imagine there were four of us.
We had a family business that was doing relatively well, however the business started going downhill and then when I was about ten years old it closed. Then my parents started to worry, and that is when my life took a pretty big U turn. My parents tried to make money in different ways, my mom tried one way. She started coming to the US and started buying clothes that were on sale and selling them in Mexico. However that’s another story.
Anyway one day we were at Mexico City visiting some family friends and while they were talking they shared with us that they were going to move to the US to the town were their sister lived, Bloomington, and they invited us. After some time thinking my parents thought it was the best opportunity they had to continue a good education for us. Imagine when you were ten years old, and in a period of about a month, you were told: “Alright son, we are moving to another country.” My parents told me to turn my back on everything I knew, everyone I cared about, my friends, my school, my team, everything.
At that time my world fell apart. I did not want to leave, I liked my life there. The sad reality was that I could not do anything about it. So we started packing everything. The bed I had slept in ever since I had memory, my toys, my clothes, everything. Most of everything stayed in Mexico. We only took what we only really “needed.” Now let me ask you something: What do you take for granted in your every day life? Your cell phone, computer, TV. I had to leave all of that behind. I was asked, no, told to close a door on my old life, my memories, my house and move on to a different place.
Anyhow the trip to Bloomington was not bad. We were used to driving for long periods of time, so it was kind of fun seeing all the different places. It was hard though to live with our friends, because for as close as you might be to someone it is very hard to adjust to their styles of life. Our family had a pretty rough time adjusting. The first month was easy everybody got a long then after that tension started to build up and things started to get complicated.
Then in the midst of all of that I started going to school. Adjusting to school was easy. The teachers and people I was with were all really warm and caring. They were patient with me and listened to me when I spoke, since speaking was the hardest thing I had to learn. Then the rest was easy enough. I did not have that much trouble fitting in, and I like to think that the other kids liked me.
Also during this time I had to help my dad get a job. He did not speak english but hey, he still had to bring home the bacon. So believe it or not this was I think the hardest thing for me. I had to mature really early. My parents did not speak any English so since I was the eldest it became my responsibility to translate. I had to go to interviews with my dad and translate for him. When we applied for insurance I had to translate. The hard part about it is that I was only about twelve years old and there were other things that I wanted to do but I had to grow up, watch over my siblings, take care of them and help my parents.
Finally after about five months of living with our friends we saved up enough money to rent our house. It was very exciting to move in because when you say you have a house, a home, you get the feeling of belonging, that you belong somewhere. When we moved in, our house was empty. We slept on the floor for the first couple of nights. After that my dad kept working we had money we got furniture and my life was just like anybody else, and I love it if you ask me I would not have changed anything, for as reluctant as I was on leaving, I am really glad we moved. However there is one of the memories from when we moved into our house that really struck me:
It was our first night in our new house. There was nothing in it. It was late around midnight. We were hungry, so my mom made us some food. She cooked spaghetti. Like I said there was nothing in our house. There was no table no… nothing. We were in the middle of the kitchen, the kitchen was big. There was plenty of space. We had a big yellow cookie jar that we placed on the floor. Then my mom put a big blue plate on top and there she put the spaghetti. So then all of us sat on the tiled cold floor around the plate and ate. That was it.
Then when I think back to that day, to that specific memory, I realize we really are spoiled. We do not need furniture, TV, beds, cars. All we need is food, clothing, and a roof. Then another thing is I have a family. That’s big. We stayed together through those hard times. We are close. We care about each other. My parents have been together for eighteen years now, that’s rare. Think about it we do not need anything else, the rest is just…luxury.
1 comment:
This real-life story says a lot about the nature of human existence and necessity. It is Excellent food for thought. This side of immigration is almost never thought of and we rarely get to see it from such an interesting point of view. Way to bring home the bacon Jesus.
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