Month: October 2019

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Dia de Los Muertos

November 2nd, Dia de Los Muertos, Day of the Dead, is a major national holiday in Mexico. It incorporates Aztec traditions and coincides with All Souls Day in the Catholic religion. Unlike people in the United States who avoid talking about death, Mexicans often joke about dying to demonstrate that they are not afraid. They are determined not to let death stand in the way of their joy of living. 

In the days leading up to November 2, bakeries (panaderias) prepare bread in the shape of skulls. In Mazatlán, people put together elaborate skeleton costumes and participate in a raucous nighttime parade throughout downtown. In small towns, families decorate their homes with altars covered in marigolds, photographs, and articles that remind them of family members who have died. It is a day to remember and celebrate loved ones, to share joy and tears, laughter, stories and plenty of cerveza and tequilla.

In recognition of Dia de Los Muertos, I share this tribute to my father, Robert Jones, who died in 1996. 

My earliest memory of my father happened when I was about four years old. My family lived upstairs, above my grandparents, in a small home across from the local Catholic church. I sat on the floor, watching my father sleep on the sofa next to me. My brother and I were eating an orange and we methodically put the orange seeds in my father’s ear. By the time he woke up, my father’s ear was over-flowing with discarded orange seeds. That event is significant for two reasons. It established that my father could sleep through anything and that he allowed us children tremendous leeway. Adults in my family have always claimed that the ability to sleep anywhere is the sign of a clear conscience. In my father’s case, that was certainly true.

I miss my father tremendously. He taught me to fully appreciate comic books, holidays, gardening, Alfred E. Newman, horse-racing and music. He was the only father I knew who could click his heels and wiggle his ears. Who would play Sousa marches on his trumpet on the Fourth of July and Taps at night. The last piece of music I heard him play was Somewhere Over the Rainbow. I never heard him play so well, or so sweetly. He died four months later. He was the most honorable, kind, gentle man I’ve ever know.

Adios, Papí. 

 

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What’s In A Name?

Nicknames in Mexico are common. Almost everyone has one. Some names you recognize ~ Poncho (Francisco), Checo (Sergio), and Chucho (Jesús). Other, more creative names, you might hear on the street.

People who know Ernesto, call him Neto. But people who grew up with him in Mazatlán call him Chanfles ~ which refers to the wicked, left-footed kick that was his trademark in soccer games when he was a boy. Neto was able to kick the ball hard, with so much spin to it, his opponents were helpless. His team scored and he won the game.

There are other nicknames found in many families that refer to physical features. Güero is the name typically given to the lightest child in a family and Prieto is often the name given to the darkest one. A guy who is losing his hair is known as Pelón, a girl who is tiny and petite is known as Ratona (Mouse) and a boy with big ears is called ~ you guessed it ~ Orejas.

A Citizen of the World is full of nicknames for Neto’s friends. Bombon (Marshmallow), Huesos (Bones), Tetas (a guy so fat he has “man-boobs”) and Sombra (Shadow) are a few of the people you will meet. While these names might be considered inappropriate in other cultures, they are meant to be fun. Someone thinks of a name, it sticks, and no one seems to take offense. It’s just the way it is.

 

 

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Hello!

Welcome to my website.

I started this website in October, 2019, at the same time I decided to write a book. I never intended to write a book. I listened to my friend, Neto Flores, tell stories of his life and often said, “Your life has been so interesting, someone should write a book about you.”

And then it occurred to me, maybe I should be that person. I started with one story ~ a story about how Neto was there when his brother, Sergio, was almost born on a bus. I joined a writing class at the Aurora Senior Center, near where I live. I read that story to my classmates, and they encouraged me to keep writing. 

I wrote more stories about Neto ~ how he was expelled from kindergarten after just one day. How he sold peanuts on the beach when he was ten years old. How he discovered surfing and crossed the border into the US when he was fourteen.  Neto’s book, Citizen of the World, was born.

My journey to being a writer was, like most journeys, step-by-step. One foot in front of the other.  I went to a week-long writer’s retreat in Victoria, Canada. I found an editor to work with. I continued to meet with the Aurora Writer’s Group, until the pandemic shut us down. I wrote my blog every week.  I found a great web-guy to guide me.

Finally, the book is finished. It’s been an incredibly journey.

I’m eager for you to read my book. It is about Neto, and his love of surfing. But it’s about a lot more. It’s about resilience and redemption. 

Who is this book for?

  1. Travelers, adventurers and wanderers.
  2. Athletes, especially surfers and swimmers.
  3. Anyone who loves the ocean.
  4. People who gre up in the 60s and 70s.
  5. Readers who love stories about second chances.
  6. Anyone interested in Mexican immigration, culture and customs.
  7. People who want to understand drug dependency.
  8. Researchers, interested in the history of the drug trade between the US and Mexico.
  9. Slow readers…fast readers…and everyone in between.
  10. YOU ~ your family and friends.