BigSoccer post from 2/3/2006 on a thread titled "Mexican Pride"

I was born in a small rancho in Jalisco and lived there for the first 10 yrs of my life. I came to the States in '88.

A co-worker asked recently why I was so proud of my Mexican heritage. I work in a predominantly geriatric caucasian office. Usually I would just say something smart-ass, like "I'm Mexican, that's why" or just completely ignore the question. I'm friendly like that. But I felt compelled to actually interact with her for a change. I answered her that I was not only born in Mexico...I spent the first decade of my life there, (I don't think she knew this) in what I considered to be the best childhood ever.

I explained to her that those formative years were spent being trained to feel pride when I see an eagle devouring a snake while perched on a cactus, same as she was trained to feel pride when she sees the stars and stripes. I don't know if she was satisfied with this but I walked away nonetheless.

I remember being able to catch a train to towns 30-50 miles away on my own as a child. I remember having one rule as a kid, be home for lunch at 2pm, that was it!! I roamed streets like a madman. I'd ride my bike with other kids to the river and go swimming. I'd come home from school and head straight to the local soccer field, which was behind our enormous back lot (that proximity explains the obsession and skills). I knew the exact spot on the edge of town, by the Roman aqueduct, behind the train tracks, that would produce the best echo I ever heard.

The town was at the foot of steep hill where an old cross "Cruz Vieja" was placed by its Jesuit founders. I'd take hikes up the hill and sit up there for hours reading and looking at the tiny valley and most of the people go about their lives. I'd talk my cousin Rene into riding our bikes to the nearest town for the sole purpose of fighting other kids. We'd stroll into town park our bikes and wait for anybody around our age to show up and proceed to tell them they were " a bola de mugrosos and pig fuckers". They were, that's why we kicked their ass.
I remember listening to "Porfirio Cadena el Ojo de Vidrio" on the radio. I remember Sixto and Burbujas on T.V. I vaguely remember Tuesday nights being the Cantinflas cartoon night on Channel 2...Cantinflas cartoons kicked ass. I have a ton of awesome memories that could have me sitting here writting for days.