This week I went to El Torito (AKA expensivo comida de fake-o Mexicano) with a group of people from my work to welcome a new employee to our sister company FormDecor Modern Furniture Rental. It is a rare occasion when we all get to go to lunch, but usually a good one. I am fortunate to work with some people that are pretty cool. This is one of my first experiences working with people who are generally near my age bracket as opposed to banking and bus driving where I was always the baby.
Anyway, over lunch I was trying to communicate in HORRIBLE Spanish with a couple of FD employees who work in our shop. Neither one of them speak a touch of English, but they are good workers and I always throw out a que onda? to one of them on a weekly basis. Somehow it came out that I live in Santa Ana and play music, and through our HR manager I had a brief conversation with one of the workers. He also plays music and lives in Santa Ana. So naturally I thought to invite him and his buddy to the Gypsy Den to hear Cynthia and I play some music. He responded indifferently and indicated that he would not be welcome in a place like the Gypsy Den because it was too white of a place for him to go. So, feeling a little misunderstood I brushed it off and asked where I could go see him to play. He responded again completely disinterested and said something about how he plays in a house, and the conversation was basically over at that point.
I left feeling upset in a way. Obviously if you go to the Gypsy in Santa Ana it is not all white people... is it? I thought how amazing it would be if someone went up at open mic and sang a song in Spanish... who cares if you don't speak english at that point? I guess I can flip it and think about how I would probably never go to an open mic in a Mexican coffee shop by myself, but I don't know about any Mexican coffee shops.
Moving to Santa Ana has really shown me the rift between the white and Mexican community. I have noticed a lot of the white people in this area are complete pricks... I don't know why, but I can tell that there is not good blood between the Brown and White in my neck of the city. Nothing hostile that I am aware of more like passive aggressive indifference. Tolerance.
So as I pondered how my car gets backed into while I watch from my balcony, and how I get completely ripped off if I try to buy cookies from the roach coach on my street as I walked down my stairs. Tired, like I always am in the morning, I was extra annoyed by my growing angst for indifferent Mexicans in my neighborhood. A family of three Mexicans waked out of their house in my complex. The mother was going to walk her third grade looking son and her kindergarden aged daughter to the school bus in the morning, and I could tell they were in a rush. Their presence was barely noticed by myself as I was trying to tell my brain that I like Mexican people and there is no reason to be so upset about a few individuals who have made me upset. As I approached the gate to my street I noticed the rushing family and the little Mexican girl waiting at the gate. She had stayed behind from her rushing family to hold open the gate for me. There was nobody else there, just us, and as I walked through the gate without a word she ran off to catch up to her mom and brother.
I guess I can't be upset about the limits other people put on themselves, but perhaps when we limit ourselves we inadvertently rob others of a new opportunity to experience something new since we are all unique. Then again there are moments when none of that matters because a child who doesn't see skin color can show how limited we all are, and can bring the hope that all people can get along if they want to.
