Abuelo Juan

La gente lo conoce como el Abuelo Juan.

Cuando hablamos de el, decimos "Mi Abuelo".

Nosotros los Mexicanos hacemos eso, hablamos de nuestros padres y nuestros abuelos, diciendo "mi mama o mi abuela". No es nada en contra de nuestros queridos hermanos, para quien claramente, tambien es, pues "nuestra mama o nuestro papa". Solo, es una cosa cultural, es la manera que nosotros usamos nuestro idioma.

Yo me apuro de mi Abuelo. Me apuro de su salud, que si come bien, que si tiene y toma su medicina. Me apuro y pienso cuando lo volvere a ver. Mi temor es que si cuando regrese a verlo aun estara con nosotros.

Nuestros dias aparte de uno al otro se convierten en meses, meses se convierten en años y lo extraño. Otro año sin verlo. Tengo que oir su voz. Tomo el telefono y le llamo. Hola! Abuelito. Como esta? Me dice. "Bien Mijo..y tu...tu familia?" Bien. Bien. Todo bien.

Hablamos de "Los Estados Unidos" de "El Otro Lado". Le gusta contarme historias. Historias de sus jornadas a California, Arizona y Oregon. Jornadas a lugares que no puede pronuciar con nombres, de "Aidajo, Wiescon-son, Miichican" y de el trabajo duro y sucio de el campo.

Le cuento sobre los tiempos dificiles que estan pasando los Mexicanos en Estados Unidos. El me cuenta de sus tiempos como Bracero. Me cuenta de los empleadores que se desaparcian con sus semanas de pago. El recuerda los fondos que fueron deducidos de su cheque para "la pension", el 10% de sus ganancias durante el periodo de 1942 a 1945. Como estos fondos fueron deducidos por el Gobierno Estaunidense, los fondos puestos en una supesta "cuenta de ahorros" y como estos fondos desaparecieron. Estos fondos debian ser pagados a los Braceros cuando regresaran a Mexico. Recuerda que sus ahoros desaparecieron al igual que los de 300,000 otros Braceros y ni el Gobierno Estaunidense o el Gobierno Mexicanos dispuestos a tomar responsabilidad. Los Braceros sin recurso alguno, simplemente siguieron con sus vidas y lo dejaron, pero aun recuerdan.

Pero a pesar de todo, mi Abuelo insiste que su jornada y tiempo en Ameria fue bueno. El habla de el cariño de unos Americanos. De la generosidad de un Policia de Los Angeles blanco que lo paro cuando caminaba por la calle y le hizo preguntas en su poco Español y de un momento saca un billete de Viente Dollares y lo pone en la mano de mi Abuelo y dice "vaya con Dios, amigo". Mi abuelo tiene dulces memorias de un tal, "Mister Ford" que una vez le ayudo a conseguir un trabajo en un factoria con buena paga. El trabajo en la factoria quita de los campos y el calor del sol.

Mi Abuelo dice, "Fueron buenos tiempos, fue una aventura y lo haria otra vez, pero eso es cosa para los nuevos".

Finalmente mi Abuelo me dice Adios. Me dice "Ojala pronto los vea."

Antes de que le pueda responder, siento un nudo en la garganta y mis ojos se empiezan a llenanar de lagrimas, le solo puedo responderle, "Si.. Abuelito. Pronto. Muy pronto".

Technorati Tags: immigration cultural heritage migration mexico family

Abuelo Juan

He is known as el Abuelo Juan.

We refer to him as, "Mi Abuelo"

Mexicans do that, we refer to our parents, grandmothers, grandfathers as "my mother, my grandfather". We don't mean to be inconsiderate of our brothers or sisters. Its just a cultural thing, its a quirk in our use of language.

I worry about Mi Abuelo. I worry about his health, does he eat right, does have and take his medicine. I worry and wonder when I will see him again. I fear whether he will still be, with us, when I return.

Our days apart turn into months, months into years and we miss him each other. Another year goes by and I've yet to see him. How I yearn to hear his voice. I place the call. Hello. Abuelito. Si..! "Como esta"? Bien mijo...y tu? Fine my son, and you? Bien. Bien. Good. Good.

We talk of "Los Estados Unidos", the United States, of "el otro lado" the otherside. He likes to retell stories, stories of his past journeys to California, Arizona and Oregon. Journeys to places he can't pronounce, "Aidajo, Weesconson, Meechican" and the tough and dirty work in the farm fields.

I tell him about the difficult times Mexicans are now facing in the U.S. He tells me of his time as a "Bracero", as a guest worker. He tells me of the unscrupulous employers who vanished with weeks of pay. He remembers the money taken from his paychecks, for "pension" a 10% withholding from his earnings during the period of 1942 to 1945. How these funds were withheld by the U.S. government, the money to be placed in a "savings fund". The funds were to be paid to the guest workers upon their return to Mexico. His "savings funds" disappeared like those of 300,000 other Braceros never to resurface and neither the U.S. nor the Mexican government willing to take any responsibility. The Braceros left with no recourse and no one to turn just went on and let it go and now can only remember.

But, for all that, my Abuelo insists his journey and time in America was good. He speaks of the kindness of many "Americanos". The kindness of the white Los Angeles policeman who stopped him on a residential street, questioned him in bits of broken Spanish and then just reached into his pocket pulled out a Twenty Dollar bill, placed the bill into my grandfathers hand and said, "vaya con Dios, amigo". He relishes the memory and generosity of a "Mister Ford" who he says once helped him land a good paying job in factory. The factory job took him out of the farm fields and out of the blazing sun.

My Abuelo says, "Fueron buenos tiempos, fue una aventura y lo haria otra vez, pero eso es cosa para los nuevos". They were good times, it was an adventure, I would do it again, but those are things for when you are young.

Abuelo says Goodbye to me. He tells me, "Ojala pronto los vea." Hopefully I'll see you soon. Before I can speak, I feel a lump in my throat and as tears well in my eyes I say, "Si.. Abuelito. Pronto. Muy pronto". Yes, Grandfather, Soon. Very soon.

Technorati Tags: immigration cultural heritage migration mexico family

California High School Walkouts Continue

Despite rain and an ordered lockdown by the Superintedent of the Los Angeles Unified School District (LAUSD) groups of students continued to protest proposed immigration reforms. The lockdowns probably contributed to many students seizing the opportunity to continue their protests and skip another day of school. Although for the most part the marches have been peaceful a few incidents of violence and arrests have been reported.

Gardena High School students (pictured) walked a mostly peaceful demonstration down Redondo Beach Blvd. Students from Carson High enmassed near the Harbor 110 Freeway and walking onto several lanes of the freeway. In San Pedro students walked onto the Vincent Thomas Bridge, but police stopped them, detained a few and turned most of the students around.

Local leaders such as the Mayor of Los Angeles, Antonio Villaraigosa have begun to urge students to return to school and be mindful of their behaviour. The students are reminded not lose sight of demonstrating peacfully and taint the intended message to Congressional leaders.

The walkouts are a financial impact on LAUSD. The 728,000-student Los Angeles Unified School District which on Monday saw about 26,000 students walk out of 56 local schools, will sustain a loss of more than $500,000 in lost state attendance funds. The LAUSD receives state money for every student in class and those funds are withheld whenever a student is reported absent.