Borderlands

Borderlands

You can always find someone to talk in the bus. From a construction worker to a student to a house wife. Normal people with their everyday life. If you ask them they'll tell you “Soy Latino, Mexicano Hispano-Americano, Mexican-American, Amercian” They are like any other American, and believe in the same American principle “The harder you work, the better you will live”.

Our community is old and is constantly growing. We have roots here and in the other side of the border. Tucson is only 60 miles away from the Mexican border, but it feels like we are closer.

All through the barrio you can find the American flag, waving in all its glory, reminding us that we are here now. In our home, en nuestra tierra.

Growing Roots

Growing roots

The neighborhood is always looking nice. Beautiful murals are there to remind us who we are. The symbols, the traditions that keep us together are the inspiration for this murals. 

The past, the present, and the future are there, painted on a bricked wall that is as strong as our heritage.

 

Doña Julia

A church is not just four walls and stained glass. A church is made by its people. Doña Julia knows this better than anyone. She comes here to thank God for the blessings we receive everyday, and asks Christ to keep us from dismay. “It is always good to remember that we are not alone.” We couldn't chat very long, because a funeral was to take place. Before I left she told me that “It's important to believe in something that gives you hope.”

Paletero

Paletero

 

There was the ice cream man, el paletero, with his dreams packed in a box with wheels, and he pushes it forward, always forward. His body was tired, so he stopped in the shade of the mesquites. Around two in the afternoon, when the sun hits harder, he waits for the high school kids near the bus stop. His body was tired, and everybody needs a break, even middle school kids that are waiting for the bus. “Buenas tardes joven, ¿qué le doy?” Tucson's sun was really playful that day, so I got an ice cream bar. He managed to talk on the phone, keep a conversation with me, get my ice cream, and give me change as if he was cooler than the ice cream. His body was tired, and the mesquite's shade was asking me to take a break too.

Arroz con Leche

That day was an ordinary day.

Ice cream bar in one hand,

the camera in my lap.

and my hopes in the bag.

Rice pudding, so simple

so ordinary, tan deseado.

Arroz con leche, refreshing memory,

melting in the desert heat.

A bar of ice cream

keeping me awake

in this ordinary dream.

Rice pudding, the only way back.

Julian Wash Cultural History Walk

 

A Historical Walk

“Your brain is a muscle too, and it needs exercise to stay healthy” That was Rafael advice when he saw me jotting down some notes on a small notebook. “Is good that you are attending school, la educación es fuerza.” I joined him for a walk around Julian Wash Cultural History Walk, and we walked through the history of this land. “Some people sees us as intruders, but this land was first from the Native Americans. Mexicans workers came here generations ago, and now we are part of this country. I feel at home, me siento en casa, está es mí tierra.”

Rafael

When I asked him about his feelings towards the newer generations of Hispanic-American people, he told me that “It is a shame that there are Hispanic people that don't speak Spanish” For him, a person without roots is a person that doesn't exits. Your roots make you who you are, they are part of your identity. “We need to increase our roots, and keep them growing.” Rafael used Barak Obama as an example. “Maybe in 20 years from now we will have a Hispanic-American president. A lot of kids look up to him and they will realize that you can make a change in your community if you put effort in your work.”

Swapmeet

 

The sun José

Buenos dias, said José after I presented myself as a student. The stars were looking at us from above, and they were glad to hear how José explained that he was born in Oaxaca, México. Suddenly, pen, paper, and a camera changed the mood in the room. Is this for the news paper? I speak very little Spanish, Mixteco is my first language. La muchacha that sells the wrestling masks speaks more Spanish than me. Maybe you should go talk to her.

The sun and the moon have become one, Mixteco is not spoken anymore by the son, and Spanish is not heard either. Only a voice in English that comes from the corner of the room can be heard, and José might deny that as well.

Mascaras y Rosarios

When you replace your rosario with a camera, Rosario won't speak to you. “I'm not the owner, I'm just minding the store.” She said she doesn't speak much Spanish either, even though she said she is from Nogales, Sonora, a Mexican border town 60 miles south of Tucson. Only she knows who is the person behind the mask.

Swap meet

All the colors get together here. You can find yours if you take a closer look. People say you are what you eat, and Hispanic-American food is full of color and flavor. Picking the right ingredients is essential in order to prepare a fine dish. People come to the swap meet to find fresh produce, just like a mercado. “Are you going to just take pictures?” said a young man in a jokingly manner, “You ain't gonna taste any flavor from those pictures, you gotta eat some fresh chiles to capture the flavor”. And so I got some bell peppers and jalapeños following the recommendation of the young man. I sure had a nice breakfast the next day.