Depression's Many Faces 10 A Break-Up, A Trip, And Twins 2013

Before I came back my best friend, Katie, joked about taking a trip to Mexico for a weekend. She told me we would meet two wonderful men and fall madly in love and of course eat all the Mexican food we wanted.  We, being broke college students, would not have a dream of a vacation of relaxation. Instead, we would probably sleep in her car and eat the snacks we brought with us. So, I would never have thought we would actually go.

I came back to school and got my pa.s.sport because I want to do a J-term in London.  Then a couple of weeks after I got back she showed up at my dorm and said "let's go!"  I did not want to miss my chance so I loaded up my bags with my s.e.xiest sweatpants and grabbed the only high heels I allowed myself to have and we rushed off to the border.  It took about twenty hours to get there driving down I-35.  We took turns behind the wheel to make sure we got there, but once we made it we knew, "definitely worth it."

The second we drove into the small town, a man ran up to our car, we did not know what to do, I got my mace out to mace him but he spoke and I was too shocked.  He used perfect English. "Hey you ladies are American, no?  Do you have a place to stay?  I can give you a room for the night if you give me a ride home.  My name is Jorge," he told us and when we, both still shocked, didn't answer him he hopped in the back of her car and told us how to get to his place.  I about told him to get out but she said "we are looking for an adventure. Besides we don't have anywhere to stay."

I drove to his house; the most beautiful farm house I had ever seen.  The land was nice and calming like the farm my parents use to live on.  He jumped out of the car and ran to the door.  I looked around ready to drive away if we needed to.  He then came out with a big woman following him; she came to the car and spoke quick Spanish.  "My mother says thank you for bringing me home.  My car broke down in town and I needed to get home quickly to give her the meds I went in town to pick up. She says you are welcome to stay for dinner and however long you need to. I have to go work on the farm for a bit and mom doesn't speak English.  She does not have to speak your language here," Jorge said in a sort of sn.o.bby way.

"Can we watch you work?" Katie quickly chirped from the pa.s.senger seat.

"Yes, follow me," Jorge said walking away from us.  We both jumped out of the car, I locked all the doors and put my pocket knife in my pocket where I could get it quickly.

Jorge grabbed a hoe and started working when we reached the field. He looked good his long hair moving slowly with his motions and his little wisp of a mustache moving with his mouth as he spoke to us about his home.  After he worked a bit he took off his over s.h.i.+rt and wiped the sweat from his forehead.  Katie and him started talking in the little Spanish she knew, I just watched how he made a language I was never too fond of sound so attractive.  He smiled because Katie tried to talk to him in his language. He had a beautiful white smile under his dark skin.

When the sun started to set he put away his tools and showed us around the house. I let him lead us around though I did not trust him because not much was around the area.  We ate a Mexican dish I cannot p.r.o.nounce much less spell.  He then showed us to a bedroom with one small bed right in the middle.  He looked at us and said "this is your room, we do not have much but it is better than nothing."

I smiled and threw a blanket from the bed onto the floor with one of the pillows and crawled in.  Katie took her place in the bed and he stared at us in amazement at our adaptability.  I told him, "We grew up in farm lands in Kansas."

All of a sudden another man, who looked just like Jorge, walked into the room and Jorge introduced him as his brother "Agapito. Ah-Gah-PEE-to."
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Katie laughed and said, "What's up, Pikachu?"

Agapito laughed and smiled at her. Jorge looked annoyed. Katie ignored him and ended up talking with Agapito for a bit.

I left with Jorge to talk and I found out we had a lot in common. I hated him. Stubborn, intelligent, with anger issues, a tight wad, and most of all a sarcastic jerk. I could not believe I had found my equal in every way. Too much like me that I could not see us even being friends. Though when I got up and started to walk to the room, he got up and asked where I was going. I told him "I am going to bed and you can argue with the wall for all I care. I'm done."

His look again shocked me as much as my words shocked him. He actually apologized to me! No one ever says sorry to me; they always push until I give up and say I am sorry. "I am not use to having an intelligent conversation. Everyone here cares more about compa.s.sion than intellect so I do not get to argue a point. I love talking to you, we have so much in common, maybe we can talk and get to know each other better and see where it goes."

I don't know why I stayed but I did. We talked about meaningless things like money and weather. We talked about important things like his parents and mine. Both of our dad's died, it was scary that his life was mine. We ended up talking all night and actually becoming good friends. Katie and Agapito became close friends also and we all decided to stay in contact and to visit every now and then. They even said they might visit us. We loaded back in the car and made the long drive home both laughing and talking about what happened.

It turned out to be an interesting trip. I am now excited to see where my next semester of college takes me, if it takes me back to Mexico or just a Spanish cla.s.s.

Poem: Judgment

If you couldn't see me,

Would my skin matter?

Pale white,

Dark brown?

My skin shouldn't define me.

My race shouldn't make you like me,

Or hate me.

My mother,

My father,

Their race doesn't define my experiences.

My whole life,

People have been people.

Race was heritage.

Skin is skin,

and color doesn't matter.

If you must judge me,

For my skin.

Then also lay judgment

On my small home,

My tiny paycheck,

My hard work,

My will to hold on

and fight for what I believe in.

Judge me on my history,

Not on the history of people long dead.

Not on the history of people

Who aren't even my blood.

Your skin doesn't matter to me.

Your hair color,

Your voice,

Your eyes,

It doesn't matter.

You are another person,

Another human.

I listen to you the same,

I expect the same things from you.

Why do you have to see me any different.