I'm sure people have written, read, watched, and listened to a lot of Michael Jackson this weekend. Some people have even said that maybe we are paying too much attention. Rumors have been flying, I don't know fact from fiction anymore; the news are unstoppable. Words like, "twitter" and "cassette tapes" are being used in the same sentences-just to show the impact and longevity Michael Jackson has had on the world.
Here in Asia, the Philippine dancing inmates are once again a YouTube sensation. I read that in Japan, Michael Jackson had the most avid and passionate supporters. The Japanese will be in mourning for some time. Here in Singapore, many blogs have been dedicated to the pop icon and every shop and taxi are tuned in to stations dedicating commentary to Michael. In China, he is still gracing the front covers of major newspapers.
As the days unfold, more questions, some disturbing updates and endless hours of MJ music videos will continue to make headlines.
Hopefully we can remember to celebrate his life, his music and his contributions and not take everything else we hear to heart.
Rest in Peace Michael.
xoxo,
Betty
An Unexpected Journey
I know many Chicagoans who have never been up the Sears Tower. I know many New Yorkers who have never been to a Broadway performance. I also know many Tokyoites who have not been to Meiji Shrine. I guess when we live in a city we take for granted all the wonderful sights, landmarks and buildings that make our home-home. There is no need to do the tourist thing in your city because you will always be there and maybe you'll take out-of-town guests when the moment calls. Well now that I'm leaving...I woke up today feeling a bit crazed. The feeling of not having seen enough of Asia, let alone Singapore, in the past 6 months was making me anxious and sad. I have been thinking of what I can see and what I can do before we leave. Should I take my camera down to Little India or Arab Street? Should I work on the shots of Hawker Centers I have been meaning to take? I woke up to rain this morning so I pulled out the Singapore Resident's Guide and stopped at the museum pages. I went down the list and picked the Singapore Art Museum (SAM). Yay!
My goal is to do as much of Singapore or Asia in the weeks to come. Oh! How I would love to take a flight to Seoul, Beijing or Hanoi. But Jose is super busy and unless a girlfriend proposes we take the kids and go, I've got to reminisce on these writings, take a lot more photos or find other outlets. This is how today my experience at SAM gave me an outlook, emotions and inspiration I wasn't expecting from a museum built in an old school just a few blocks from our house.
St. Joseph Institution was a school for boys and was founded in 1855, has also served as a Red Cross Hospital, a unit of the Civil Defense Force, and is also considered a Singapore national monument and is now home to SAM.
When I stepped inside the beautiful white, colonial building I thought, "I have no knowledge of Asian Art" and immediately noticed an exhibition titled "TransportAsian" that included photography and light installations. My next thought? "Photography! Yes, I can learn a lot from photography!"
I was admiring an exhibition when I hear the ding of the Tokyo metro overhead announcement. I did a double take when I heard, "mamonaku..." What the...? Where am I? Behind a black curtain was a video installation titled "Pasajeros" YES in Spanish! Pasajeros is the work of Xavi Comas, a Spaniard who did this piece of work on the Tokyo subway. I went in, sat on the bench of the dark room and I was quickly transported back to Hibiya line in Japan. The black and white images are a journey. A journey captured by the artist and a flashback for me. I saw images of school children in their perfect Japanese uniforms, salarymen slouching over their briefcases and wrinkling their suits. I saw young Japanese girls in their notorious cute outfits and high heels. I saw the faces of tired, older men slumbering for a few minutes. I saw the faces of mothers struggling with the baby strollers on the crowded train. All images of people in the tight space. Faces and mannerisms that I saw many, many times in Tokyo. How many times did I wonder about their lives and how different and the same way we live our life? How many times did I wonder about their comings and goings as I sat and tried not to look like a total "gaijin" (foreigner)?
The journey was theirs. The everyday in and out of the routine in the transportation system that supports the life of these travellers and the people Comas caught in his "one meeting, one time", ichigo ichie as a 16th century tea master once said.
Xavi Comas summarized his work by explaining that for him, each meeting has to be savoured, remembered, and appreciated because it only comes one time. What better way to express this philosophy by using his lens. I sat there and watched the exhibit two times. A knot formed in my throat when I read ichigo ichie. Tears started to flow uncontrollably. Sitting all alone in this historic museum, I felt nostalgic and my heart ached as I came to terms with my departure from Asia. I was living my one moment. I have been living my one meeting , my one time. And I was realizing that it was quickly coming to an end.
Nevertheless, I felt inspired. I was grateful and fulfilled (but not too much in order to leave room for more). I decided not to take for granted any place and its moments and its people. I decided that the end of my travels through Asia were not done. I still have a lot of questions about the people of Bangkok, the ruins in Cambodia and the hustle and bustle of Shanghai. We will return one day and I will cherish every minute of it.
xoxo,
Betty
My goal is to do as much of Singapore or Asia in the weeks to come. Oh! How I would love to take a flight to Seoul, Beijing or Hanoi. But Jose is super busy and unless a girlfriend proposes we take the kids and go, I've got to reminisce on these writings, take a lot more photos or find other outlets. This is how today my experience at SAM gave me an outlook, emotions and inspiration I wasn't expecting from a museum built in an old school just a few blocks from our house.
St. Joseph Institution was a school for boys and was founded in 1855, has also served as a Red Cross Hospital, a unit of the Civil Defense Force, and is also considered a Singapore national monument and is now home to SAM.
When I stepped inside the beautiful white, colonial building I thought, "I have no knowledge of Asian Art" and immediately noticed an exhibition titled "TransportAsian" that included photography and light installations. My next thought? "Photography! Yes, I can learn a lot from photography!"
I was admiring an exhibition when I hear the ding of the Tokyo metro overhead announcement. I did a double take when I heard, "mamonaku..." What the...? Where am I? Behind a black curtain was a video installation titled "Pasajeros" YES in Spanish! Pasajeros is the work of Xavi Comas, a Spaniard who did this piece of work on the Tokyo subway. I went in, sat on the bench of the dark room and I was quickly transported back to Hibiya line in Japan. The black and white images are a journey. A journey captured by the artist and a flashback for me. I saw images of school children in their perfect Japanese uniforms, salarymen slouching over their briefcases and wrinkling their suits. I saw young Japanese girls in their notorious cute outfits and high heels. I saw the faces of tired, older men slumbering for a few minutes. I saw the faces of mothers struggling with the baby strollers on the crowded train. All images of people in the tight space. Faces and mannerisms that I saw many, many times in Tokyo. How many times did I wonder about their lives and how different and the same way we live our life? How many times did I wonder about their comings and goings as I sat and tried not to look like a total "gaijin" (foreigner)?
The journey was theirs. The everyday in and out of the routine in the transportation system that supports the life of these travellers and the people Comas caught in his "one meeting, one time", ichigo ichie as a 16th century tea master once said.
Xavi Comas summarized his work by explaining that for him, each meeting has to be savoured, remembered, and appreciated because it only comes one time. What better way to express this philosophy by using his lens. I sat there and watched the exhibit two times. A knot formed in my throat when I read ichigo ichie. Tears started to flow uncontrollably. Sitting all alone in this historic museum, I felt nostalgic and my heart ached as I came to terms with my departure from Asia. I was living my one moment. I have been living my one meeting , my one time. And I was realizing that it was quickly coming to an end.
Nevertheless, I felt inspired. I was grateful and fulfilled (but not too much in order to leave room for more). I decided not to take for granted any place and its moments and its people. I decided that the end of my travels through Asia were not done. I still have a lot of questions about the people of Bangkok, the ruins in Cambodia and the hustle and bustle of Shanghai. We will return one day and I will cherish every minute of it.
xoxo,
Betty
Feeling the Love
It's wedding season!! Lately, our mailbox has been stuffed with gorgeous bridal shower and lavish wedding invitations. On line I have searched for the perfect vase on Crate and Barrel, linens at Macy's and wine openers on Bed, Bath and Beyond. The measurements have been sent for my bridesmaid dress and I need to practice for a Spanish mass lectura. Oh, how I love weddings! Brides walking down the aisle with fathers and mothers having dances with grooms...tear.
Jose and I will be celebrating our 5 year wedding anniversary next month and this summer we kick off our wedding season with 6 couples who will be joining us in the oldest tradition known to mankind. Five out of the six weddings are Mexican weddings (with one half being Argentine) and you know what that means; mariachi, banda, bailes del dolar and lots and lots of Tequila! We will also be travelling to New Jersey in late August to attend an Indian wedding!! I hope to learn a few things about the traditional customs because right now I am picturing Bollywood dancing, sequins and lots of gold!!! (We all know that cannot be it). Nevertheless, weddings are all about uniting family and friends, eating, drinking, dancing and lots and lots of love.
Here are some pictures of a Japanese wedding we attended last fall and a wedding in Indonesia we attended 3 years ago.
Japanese wedding starting at Meiji Shrine. Most weddings still take place in Shinto shrines where brides wear the traditional white kimono and a head piece that hides the "horns of jealousy" from her mother-in-law.
Japanese women like to wear the western-style white gown or can wear a red kimono to the reception. I have some friends who have worn all 3 gowns!
A guest at the reception in her gorgeous Kimono.
Even pets are invited to weddings and must dress appropriately as well!
Before entering the reception, a table is set up to check guests off a list. This is where we presented our "goshugi" or money gift in a beautiful, purple cloth envelope to the designated attendants. Another table was set up at the end of the reception where the bride presented a gift of "sake" glasses, a serving platter, delicious bread, soaps and chocolates to every guest as a thank you. As you can see, I was very excited to receive the goody bag.
Our friends Fela and Reza arriving at the altar. Reza's family is Muslim but they had a traditional Balinese wedding with a Hindu ceremony. The guests make a narrow space and create and aisle. Everyone was to wear the traditional dress-hand sown "batik" sarongs.During the ceremony the officiant offered the couple rice and fruit from their pyramid of food. The rice and fruit represent wealth and prosperity.
All of us after the ceremony. Jose has never looked better! :-)
Ofelia and Reza watching the sun set over the Indian Ocean.
All of us after the ceremony. Jose has never looked better! :-)
Ofelia and Reza watching the sun set over the Indian Ocean.
Whatever the culture, customs and locations, it is truly an honor to be invited to a wedding and especially to participate. As my friends start to join us in the marriage club I wish them nothing but health, happiness and lots and lots of love.
xoxo,
Betty
Going Home
It is time to dust the sand off my feet. It is time to let go of the “beach resort” attire and start dressing a bit more hip- get-with-the-trends-but- put-in-your-own- personal twist. Maybe I’ll finally get a pair of Manolos and wear them with my favorite Gap jeans and Hiroshima leather messenger bag. Perhaps I’ll buy a few more sunglasses because in New York City more people wear them than the locals here in sunny and hot year-round Singapore. It’s time to pack up again for a more permanent home this time.
That’s right people. We are MOVING back to New York City this summer.I can end the blog post right here because I really don’t know what to say.
Ha! You know that is not happening!
Everyone expects me to be happy and I really am. I’m relieved that the time is now and not some far off date that I cannot foresee. We have been living in Asia for 3 years and have answered a hundred times “I’m not really sure” to the question, “How long will you be in Japan/Singapore/Asia?” I feel like I can finally plan and live our life in a non-temporary fashion and dig out my beloved books and photographs that currently sit in some massive storage facility in Queens. I can stop planning 13 to 22 hour flights for weddings, summers and Christmas in Chicago.
I can now have a real hot dog, go to a Yankee game (and Cubs games!!! I can hear all of Chicago gasping) watch television on real time (watch television period) and be close to all my family and old, life-long friends. Our first runs will be to Danny’s Pizza in Queens, Blondie’s on the Upper West Side for real buffalo wings, Laila in Staten Island and Fela and Reza in Brooklyn. Diego will run in a real park-Central Park and visit museums with his new friends. I can take long strolls with my hubbie in SoHo and take our Chicago guests to see the Statue of Liberty. I will be able to understand the language again. I will be able to feel like I belong again (that’s another story-more on that later). But it is also time to reassess and figure out what I will do after the unpacking is done and the transition is over.
I am also sad and I think some friends and family don’t expect this emotion. It’s a feeling I really can’t explain to Jose, you or even myself. Someone recently told Jose that living abroad makes us a bit invisible. We always get to see outward and no one other than the bubble we have created with the people on the same boat can share the view with us. We are pardoned for not blending in with the locals and for always speaking too loud and for not understanding Japanese or Mandarin. We are forgiven for not slurping the noodles fast enough or not ordering the shark-fin soup. We don’t become involved with local politics or read the gossip on the tabloids (we have no idea who the people are)!
Amongst the “expat” world in Asia, many feel not to be living in reality as full-time-live-in-maids are hired, everything imaginable delivered to doorsteps, special events and shops designed for the foreign consumer and travelling the region is a hobby for many!! Living in this bubble keeps you wondering about your loved ones back home (and trying to keep up with them all), makes you less or more patriotic, makes you see the ugly and the pretty of your home country. Makes you see what the rest of the world is thinking and saying. Makes you miss Honey Nut Cheerios, Twinkies and Chex Mix. Makes you realize who your friends are and makes you find your old stomping grounds again.
To say that Asia has given me moments, memories and experiences is an understatement. Asia has given me my son, new passions, new life-long friends, courage, adventure, patience and compassion. It has allowed Jose and I to endure our early years of marriage alone, to be our best friends and confidants, to see Mt. Fuji, the Borneo Elephant, The Sydney Opera House, and feel the energy in Hong Kong, the sun in Thailand and love in Indonesia… together.
I know more, unknown experiences in America are to come. It is a country people plan to visit and dream to live in. We are so, so lucky to go home.
Now, what will I do with my blog?? Stay tuned as I reflect some more in the weeks to come!
Xoxo,
Betty
That’s right people. We are MOVING back to New York City this summer.I can end the blog post right here because I really don’t know what to say.
Ha! You know that is not happening!
Everyone expects me to be happy and I really am. I’m relieved that the time is now and not some far off date that I cannot foresee. We have been living in Asia for 3 years and have answered a hundred times “I’m not really sure” to the question, “How long will you be in Japan/Singapore/Asia?” I feel like I can finally plan and live our life in a non-temporary fashion and dig out my beloved books and photographs that currently sit in some massive storage facility in Queens. I can stop planning 13 to 22 hour flights for weddings, summers and Christmas in Chicago.
I can now have a real hot dog, go to a Yankee game (and Cubs games!!! I can hear all of Chicago gasping) watch television on real time (watch television period) and be close to all my family and old, life-long friends. Our first runs will be to Danny’s Pizza in Queens, Blondie’s on the Upper West Side for real buffalo wings, Laila in Staten Island and Fela and Reza in Brooklyn. Diego will run in a real park-Central Park and visit museums with his new friends. I can take long strolls with my hubbie in SoHo and take our Chicago guests to see the Statue of Liberty. I will be able to understand the language again. I will be able to feel like I belong again (that’s another story-more on that later). But it is also time to reassess and figure out what I will do after the unpacking is done and the transition is over.
I am also sad and I think some friends and family don’t expect this emotion. It’s a feeling I really can’t explain to Jose, you or even myself. Someone recently told Jose that living abroad makes us a bit invisible. We always get to see outward and no one other than the bubble we have created with the people on the same boat can share the view with us. We are pardoned for not blending in with the locals and for always speaking too loud and for not understanding Japanese or Mandarin. We are forgiven for not slurping the noodles fast enough or not ordering the shark-fin soup. We don’t become involved with local politics or read the gossip on the tabloids (we have no idea who the people are)!
Amongst the “expat” world in Asia, many feel not to be living in reality as full-time-live-in-maids are hired, everything imaginable delivered to doorsteps, special events and shops designed for the foreign consumer and travelling the region is a hobby for many!! Living in this bubble keeps you wondering about your loved ones back home (and trying to keep up with them all), makes you less or more patriotic, makes you see the ugly and the pretty of your home country. Makes you see what the rest of the world is thinking and saying. Makes you miss Honey Nut Cheerios, Twinkies and Chex Mix. Makes you realize who your friends are and makes you find your old stomping grounds again.
To say that Asia has given me moments, memories and experiences is an understatement. Asia has given me my son, new passions, new life-long friends, courage, adventure, patience and compassion. It has allowed Jose and I to endure our early years of marriage alone, to be our best friends and confidants, to see Mt. Fuji, the Borneo Elephant, The Sydney Opera House, and feel the energy in Hong Kong, the sun in Thailand and love in Indonesia… together.
I know more, unknown experiences in America are to come. It is a country people plan to visit and dream to live in. We are so, so lucky to go home.
Now, what will I do with my blog?? Stay tuned as I reflect some more in the weeks to come!
Xoxo,
Betty
A Little Visit
Dear Ms. Rachel,
We hope you had a wonderful flight. Below is the itinerary for your stay at Hotel Galvan-Singapore. Your complete comfort and relaxation is our utmost priority. We cannot express enough how delighted we are that you have chosen our hotel for your holiday in paradise.
Your holiday starts off with a trip to Spa Botanica in Sentosa Beach via Taxi. You have a lovely Balinese Massage scheduled for Sunday, June 14th at 11:15am for the duration of 60 minutes. Your gorgeous friend Betty will be accompanying you and will receive a Swedish massage for the duration of 60 minutes (in the adjacent room per your request). A trip on the famous Cable Cars to view the skyline of Singapore is also scheduled after a grand lunch in Vivo City.
On Tuesday, June 16th at 10:00 am you will be headed to Great World City and visit the lovely Jantzen Salon to meet Singaporean Jenny who is an experienced "gaijin" hair technician. She will consult you before starting your color and cut and make sure that you entertain yourself with the weekly "glossies" while she primps and pampers you.
You have a delicious dinner scheduled on Saturday night at Amici Italian Restaurant in Holland Village. Due to unforeseen and last minute birthday celebration for our dear friend, Roisin, we needed to postpone the famous Chili Crab night at the Palm Beach restaurant for Tuesday night. We hope this change in schedule does not inconvenience you dear guest. You will have a splendid time with our fabulous Irish, English, and Australian friends (plus you will have rocking hair for the chili crabs on Tuesday night).
Please do not hesitate to request changes to the itinerary. We are more than pleased to honor all that your heart pleases. Time has been allotted for plenty of sun, swims and shopping!
We hope you enjoy your stay.
Sincerely,
Betty Velasco-Galvan
President and CFO of Hotel Galvan-Singapore
P.s Your usual Sunshine Whole Grain Raisin Bread and Philadelphia Cream Cheese have been ordered.
Our chef is also working very hard to obtain the Original Chex Mix (always in high demand here in Singapore along with the Honey Nut Cheerios).
Let's Play, "Find the Mistakes"
Still on the photography high...sigh. Wish I could keep going with my current class and teacher but I can't at the moment (bigger tasks await). I really want to learn more about Black and White Photography and take some lessons on photographing interiors. At the moment I can't get the result that I want as I shoot our apartment here in Singapore. We get A LOT of light in the living area and I just can't seem to set up the camera manually. These are shots from pre-course days with just the auto mode and the kick of regular flash. Ugh.
Wish me luck on the days to come! I will attempt and re-attempt to get this right.
xoxo,
Betty
Painting with Lights
Last night was my last night of a five week photography course with Karen Lucas from Baobab Photography in Singapore. I enjoyed the lessons, exercises and saying to my love ones that I had "homework" to do. It has been a long time since I have taken a course of any kind or stepped into an organized lesson...for just me. I have to say that although the experience was challenging and left me on most nights with tired eyes and tension headaches, it was also fulfilling and cool. Here are some shots from last night. We went out to the busy Novena neighborhood and drew lots of attention with our crew of 8 plus tripods! We chatted and I noticed my peers and I taking shots in the most laid-back, confident manner; just like school kids on a field trip ready to start summer vacation. I will put some of the "best" (but could be better) shots from the course soon. 
Where the Journey Began...
It's been 3 crazy, amazing, unimaginable years in Asia. Our incredible journey began on Valentine's Day of 2006 when Jose got the call and invitation to head out and work for Lehman Asia. We said yes and burst out laughing. We have been known to make quick,abrupt decisions about everything in our lives-but it works for us.
The first 6 weeks were really tough for me. I was lonely, scared and literally lost in translation. I bucked up, started Japanese lessons, got a job and made incredible, life-long friends. I also got pregnant and hung out in the gaijin ghetto with all the other foreigners and English speaking Japanese!
I miss Japan from sunny Singapore. I miss the weather, the Sakura, Shinjuku Gyoen, and our friends. I bet Jose misses Ramen and Sapporo! Here are a few of my favorite pictures.
Tokyo Disney: These girls wanted to take a picture with me!!! I was so flattered! They were young and so "kawaiiiiiii"! This picture will always remind me of the "uniformed" but "cute" Japanese girls. Everything has to match and it has to be fun!
Takeshita street in Harajuku. I took every guest in town to Harajuku Dori. Went there so much that we started to blend in....ha!
Diego on his way to his first Japanese festival.
My Peruvian friend Karina and I at our first Azabu-Juban Festival.
35 weeks pregnant and in Japan!!! My awemose doctor is married to a Colombian woman! He spoke English and Spanish!!!
The first 6 weeks were really tough for me. I was lonely, scared and literally lost in translation. I bucked up, started Japanese lessons, got a job and made incredible, life-long friends. I also got pregnant and hung out in the gaijin ghetto with all the other foreigners and English speaking Japanese!
I miss Japan from sunny Singapore. I miss the weather, the Sakura, Shinjuku Gyoen, and our friends. I bet Jose misses Ramen and Sapporo! Here are a few of my favorite pictures.
Tokyo Disney: These girls wanted to take a picture with me!!! I was so flattered! They were young and so "kawaiiiiiii"! This picture will always remind me of the "uniformed" but "cute" Japanese girls. Everything has to match and it has to be fun!
Takeshita street in Harajuku. I took every guest in town to Harajuku Dori. Went there so much that we started to blend in....ha!
Diego on his way to his first Japanese festival.
My Peruvian friend Karina and I at our first Azabu-Juban Festival. 35 weeks pregnant and in Japan!!! My awemose doctor is married to a Colombian woman! He spoke English and Spanish!!!xoxo,
Betty
No Labels
Tomatillo enchiladas con frijoles are my favorite food-hands down. I speak Spanish to Diego and dream of taking him to Cuernavaca, Morelos to visit his great-grandfather. One day we will visit Cerritos, San Luis Potosi to meet Jose’s cousins, tias y tios. We dance to Banda Machos and Sonora Santanera and rock to Mana and Paulina Rubio. I identify as a Mexican girl wherever I go. But sometimes, I get a little reminder that I am more than just that. This is a conversation I participated in last Thursday in photography class with 5 people during our coffee brake:
“The international schools in Singapore are so expensive.”
“They really haven’t suffered the economic crisis.”
“Schools in Tokyo are much more expensive. But really, they are all fantastic and so worth it.”
“People will pay for anything. Expats feel they deserve the best.”
“Why shouldn’t they? They work hard and are away from home. It’s difficult to send your kids to local schools when you don’t know the system.”
“It sends the wrong message, having the best when you are away from your country. Americans are the worst. They want the best of everything.”
Um, excuse me?! Did I just hear that? Stereotyping? Generalizing? My blood boiled. The claws were out! Americans are the worst?? People laughed nervously. Some people even said, “Oooh. Ouch. You can’t go there.” I took out my big round hoops from my ears and put on my 5 gold rings on my fingers. I was going to whoop some ass!!!
No. The girl from Little Village (24th and Drake to be exact and then throw in a little Cicero and well… I could have whooped some ass). But I didn’t. Instead, calmly and maturely I explained to this nice European woman that some people, like me, like my husband, grew up in a very unsafe area in the States, went through the worst public school system in America and now that we have choices for our son, we are going to give him what we think is best-when we can.
The woman replied that playgrounds are designed to prevent accidents and not allowing kids to make mistakes, that we don’t let kids run out on the street, that Americans have brought fear by suing everyone and everything. It was clear that we were having two different conversations and that we were going off on a tangent (this happens when you get a heated and passionate debate). I ended by saying that this American was dodging bullets and gangs growing up, was looking for teachers that could relate and inspire and role models to look up to. Not all Americans are the same. We have different hopes and dreams for our kids. We all have a different experience.
Whatever one is looking for doesn’t matter to me. What bugged me was that she singled me out in a class full of British, Singaporean, South African and Asian people. I clearly have an American accent. I never deny that I was born and raised in Chicago by Mexican parents so I was just floored and insulted that she would make a comment, today in age about a country, a people, a race in a class room full of educated adults. The teacher nervously but abruptlly stopped the conversation and we went on to learn about ISO and white balance.
I love that I can take a photography course in Asia. I love hot dogs and apple pie. I want to take Diego down Route 66 and show him the best of America. I want to go back to New York City one day and live side by side with the Koreans, Jews, Italian, Blacks and Puerto Ricans. We bounce to hip hop and house music, play baseball and identify as Americans wherever we go.
We must take opportunities and participate in discussions that can teach us different little things. The woman never said “goodbye” cuando me despedi. So I clearly know she doesn’t want to be my friend. And that’s okay. I like to think that we can learn from situations like this. As much as I am Mexican, I am American. And even if don’t identify as American as quickly as I do to my Mexicanismo, I am forever grateful and the first to defend my American ways.
“The international schools in Singapore are so expensive.”
“They really haven’t suffered the economic crisis.”
“Schools in Tokyo are much more expensive. But really, they are all fantastic and so worth it.”
“People will pay for anything. Expats feel they deserve the best.”
“Why shouldn’t they? They work hard and are away from home. It’s difficult to send your kids to local schools when you don’t know the system.”
“It sends the wrong message, having the best when you are away from your country. Americans are the worst. They want the best of everything.”
Um, excuse me?! Did I just hear that? Stereotyping? Generalizing? My blood boiled. The claws were out! Americans are the worst?? People laughed nervously. Some people even said, “Oooh. Ouch. You can’t go there.” I took out my big round hoops from my ears and put on my 5 gold rings on my fingers. I was going to whoop some ass!!!
No. The girl from Little Village (24th and Drake to be exact and then throw in a little Cicero and well… I could have whooped some ass). But I didn’t. Instead, calmly and maturely I explained to this nice European woman that some people, like me, like my husband, grew up in a very unsafe area in the States, went through the worst public school system in America and now that we have choices for our son, we are going to give him what we think is best-when we can.
The woman replied that playgrounds are designed to prevent accidents and not allowing kids to make mistakes, that we don’t let kids run out on the street, that Americans have brought fear by suing everyone and everything. It was clear that we were having two different conversations and that we were going off on a tangent (this happens when you get a heated and passionate debate). I ended by saying that this American was dodging bullets and gangs growing up, was looking for teachers that could relate and inspire and role models to look up to. Not all Americans are the same. We have different hopes and dreams for our kids. We all have a different experience.
Whatever one is looking for doesn’t matter to me. What bugged me was that she singled me out in a class full of British, Singaporean, South African and Asian people. I clearly have an American accent. I never deny that I was born and raised in Chicago by Mexican parents so I was just floored and insulted that she would make a comment, today in age about a country, a people, a race in a class room full of educated adults. The teacher nervously but abruptlly stopped the conversation and we went on to learn about ISO and white balance.
I love that I can take a photography course in Asia. I love hot dogs and apple pie. I want to take Diego down Route 66 and show him the best of America. I want to go back to New York City one day and live side by side with the Koreans, Jews, Italian, Blacks and Puerto Ricans. We bounce to hip hop and house music, play baseball and identify as Americans wherever we go.
We must take opportunities and participate in discussions that can teach us different little things. The woman never said “goodbye” cuando me despedi. So I clearly know she doesn’t want to be my friend. And that’s okay. I like to think that we can learn from situations like this. As much as I am Mexican, I am American. And even if don’t identify as American as quickly as I do to my Mexicanismo, I am forever grateful and the first to defend my American ways.
