I thought I’d take the time to clear the air on some very basic misconceptions people seem to have about my story and figured that since it’s Friday now would be a good time to just lay some basics down. Also, you’re totally welcome about the song, don’t even mention it.
My name really is Azul.
I was born in Mexico, but was taken to the States at the age of 8.
I went in on a tourist visa and overstayed my welcome. I loved being in the States and all that I learned while I was there.
I had to return from The States after living there for 15 years to Mexico under something called a ‘Voluntary Departure’. I had 90 days to pack my life up and move back.
This September I will have been in Mexico a total of 3 years.
I am enjoying Mexico a good bit right about now.
It probably doesn’t hurt that I live in Cancun.
Before you hold my case as proof of possible re-assimilation, please consider the following: I had a bit of a built in network before coming through my church (I’m a Mormon). I live in Cancun, which is not a place by which you should judge the rest of the country because it is basically a resort town- the biggest industry here is tourism, and it’s a fairly new city as far as cities go (officially ‘established’ in the 70s) It is very very Americanized. It’d be like judging Las Vegas by The Strip or the entire U.S. by Washington D.C.; we know you can’t. So, don’t. Additionally, I spoke Spanish when I came back something that a lot of people who grew up in the States and face deportation do NOT, and I don’t know how they do it. Also, I got to keep my awesome American job- so the amount of goodness I’ve experienced is not everyone’s case. Some people face incredible hardship upon returning- and hardly speak the language.
By strict definition you could say I was a first gen immigrant. Others would describe me as Chicana by sheer cultural reaction and duration in the States. Depending on who you speak with I’m the whitest girl they know or somewhat Latina. I hesitate to say super Latina because I have moments of extreme nerdiness and am known to quote a Founding Father here and there (in a non-Ron Paul way). I am definitely a Pocha, and as much as I hate to admit it, my Spanish has a bit of an American accent.
The best definition I’ve ever heard about me is found here.
Here’s a list of things I am awkward about: Dancing in public, wearing heels, eating while wearing white, the correct pronunciation of scarcity (not on purpose) the correct pronunciation of mango and salmon (on purpose), guys I am attracted to, some social situations, sleeping on a bed, looking like a grown woman and leadership meetings.
Some of the things listed on my ‘Do before I die’ list include: Meeting a real life bronie, finding the guy with the bouffant-mohawk-mullet with dyed tips again and taking a picture of him (another story for another day), go horse back riding at night, be able to eat an habanero without being a chillona about it, have a baby and feed a pony. Of course, not in that order- and there’s more to it than mentioned here.
Some things that I can’t handle: Pine nuts, things that require dry hands, shops filled with delicate glass knick kacks (they make me anxious), horror movies, anything starring Nicolas Cage, Belinda, movie scenes where people maliciously hurt an innocent, tacos de lengua, tripa or sesos (Mom1 is so dissapointed right about now), menudo (the food- the group is awesome), the length of the shorts on the boys of Parchis.
Some of my best friends are engineers.
Tonight I’m gonna go dancing with one of young women in my religious congregation who is turning 18, which should be interesting seeing how it involves at least one thing that makes me awkward and one thing I can’t handle (dancing in public and dry hands). Hopefully it will all turn out okay and I won’t accidentally injure any living creatures.
Or, you know, I’ll count my losses and consider surviving tonight a total success.
Have any questions? Leave them in the comments section!