Two migrants

To my surprise, it was only after I left the Baja peninsular that began to encounter many Mexicans who prefered to speak English with me rather than struggle to communicate through my terrible Spanish. Two of those people picked up their English while living in the U.S. as immigrants.

I met Sam while waiting for a bus to pick up my mom at the Guadalajara airport. White paint speckled his torn shorts and tanktop and besmeared his dark skin. He rambled on and on about the time he´d spent in the US as an illegal alien as he slopped the paint onto the metal fence. He said he did highway work in Santa Barbara for eight years, but was deported after getting in a fight with his girlfriend. I asked him how he got to the US, "Coyote, man," he explained, "I pay two grand and they take me over, no problem." He said he crossed near Tijuana and that it was fairly easy to do back in the mid 90´s. Since then, however, he claims it´s gotten much more difficult.

He seems to have preferred the life he led in California to that in Mexico. The work was hard, but the pay was much better. He did not care for the living expenses in Santa Barbara. However, he also said he regretted spending so much money on alcohol and drugs: "I was stupid, man, real stupid, why I no save no money," he moaned with a grin. Here in Mexico he claims he only makes several dollars a day, whereas he made a standard highway worker salary in the U.S. When I get on the bus Sam jumps on and asks me what kind of music I like. "The driver will play you some nice music," he says, after hamming it up with the driver in Spanish. The driver, while congenial, ignores him in the end.

I met Landi, a sixteen-year-old high school student, while taking a rare meal at a roadside cafe. She learned English while going to school in AZ for eight years while her parents worked there. I never figured out if she and her family were there legally, but she seemed to be happy to be back in Mexico. She said she found passing classes in her native country more difficult. She plans to go to college after graduating in another year. But is spending the summer vacation working at her aunt´s restaurant, where I was eating.

It was hot, I was pooped, and didn´t have the wherewithal to keep a conversation going, but Landi gingerly asked me a few questions about biking, volunteered information about her school life here and in the US, and translated the occassional menu-oriented question for her aunt. She said she doesn´t actually have to correct her English teacher here, althought the teacher often has to prevent her from helping her fellow students with English questions. She´s not sure what she wants to do when she grows up, but seems to be fairly ambitious. I ask if she wants to return to the US, but she says she wants to develop a career in Mexico and then go back to the US, but only as a tourist.