Monday, January 5, 2009

day two

I wake up, from this point on what time it is or the day I am living in doesn't matter, I wake up in the same position as I remember falling into, wearing the same clothes.

I get my shoes on and those roaches I saw the day before are still crawling around, I walk towards the shower and spend what seemed an eternity to me just looking at the inside of the tub, "I bet someone got their organs stolen in this place" I said to myself, while I undressed and carefully placed my close on top of a chair in the bathroom, making sure nothing touched the ground, everything felt dirty, sticky, specially my body, it was so hot that day, and the day after, and the day after, you get my point. I hit the shower and it feels nice, suddenly the water becomes really hot, it burns, then as if a genie had told me to be careful with what I wish for, the water became really cold. I get dress and feel hungry, get out of the room and walk down the steps, I was staying on the second floor of that motel, it was called, Tundra, Iceberg or Alaska, who knows, who cares, at the end of the steps a parking lot, then the entrance to the parking lot which worked as the main entrance, I step onto the side walk and find myself with the first decision i have to make in this new and strange land, should I go to the left or to the right?

"Ok, right" and so right I go, the street is a little steep, ahead I see a big arch, it says "Tijuana" or " Mexico", I really don't remember, because I told myself this was not a vacation, one day I should come back and take pictures, see this from a different view, vacations.
As I get to the corner I don't know what to do, so I turn right again, and again, then, behind the motel, I see little place selling tacos, I walk towards it, then, ten meter away, an overweight lady holding a pink umbrella, leaning against a black door, is arguing with an Asian guy, "twenty dolla", she only replied with a nod, "twenty dolla" she again nods, I walk pass this scene giggling.

The little taco shop was green on the outside, I noticed some wheels and some bricks keeping it in place, the stools are old, the cushion is ripped, the smell is overwhelming, you can hear the meat on the oil, the cook is looking at the game on TV as well as a couple of customers, "GOOOOOOOOOOL" goes the person on the TV, the cook trows his towel on the floor and goes back to the meat, which by now is burned.
I order a torta, the prices are listed both in Pesos and Dollars, "Que va a querer joven?" "One torta al pastor porfavor"

I eat, and for a minute I forget about the noise of the city around me, the hooker holding a pink umbrella selling herself some meters away and the cook who is cursing at his favorite team, las aguilas.

On my way back to the motel room, I wonder if I would die on the Mexican or In the US side, I wasn't looking at the glass as half empty, I was being realistic. And there I was, a fifteen year old, standing at a corner, not able to go back on the past or try to think of a future, thankfully during all of this trip in which seems as if I am alone, I am not, I am with family, but I felt alone, I blocked myself from feeling pain or fear, and wanted to keep this away from my family members, so far it worked, but again, I don't want to remember I was seeing people I loved being hurt, so I all I remember is me, sounds selfish, but this was not my intend, my mind blocked seeing them with fear and crying. The last lines don't make any sense to me.

Back at the motel, a call from my family living in California, they have lived there for years, they are citizens. cuidado con las gallinas, el coyote anda cerca. I read some magazines over and over again, in that room, where I was sure someone was killed once. Night comes and I sleep.


  1. Is your blog written in real time? Is this what you did on monday?

  2. No, but it would be ... interesting someone would do it. I didn't even write a journal when I was "traveling" here, it was not until recently i found out there is Grey matter, in the round thing sitting on top of my shoulders. and again, the grammar, I write it an really avoid reading it, personal reasons.

  3. hmm... I know what you mean by not reading it, but from personal expirience, reading it sometimes helps put it behind you. But it's not easy. Still, I like what I read. Keep using that grey matter to it's fullist.

  4. wait..this happened when u were 15, and then what happpened? this is when u immigrated to the states? but obviously u werent by urself right?