a local fiesta

inspired by September Poetry Prompt Calendar: 9/12 and 9/13

haibun

The mariachi notes, salted with trumpet and crunchy with guitar strums, were served first to welcome visitors. Lowriders were parked but with tanks full from weekends of meticulous care. The Fiesta Mexicana thrown by the Mexican-American party-throwers who probably have the same if not more claim to this Midwestern city than most.

You know the food . . . the taco loved dearly and possessively by every American who has left this country for Europe or Asia and when they return — their first stop, Chipotle on the way home from the airport. A favorite even among those whose fear of “immigrants” imperil their neighbors. So quesaburrias, jamaica agua frescas and elote should be claimed by both Mexico and the USA, at this point.

Then the dancing! Break dancing began — “break” in this case because it breaks down borders.

Flow Like Water: break dancer

And the western line dancing in classic cowboy hats, denim and cowgirl boots.

Line Dancers

this heritage. theirs.
crema cotija lime corn
this heritage. ours?

burning haibun

This summer I was invited to attend 2 gatherings organized by Latinos in my community that I met through a program where I was their instructor for a night class. This Sunday, I attended a city-wide event that celebrated Mexican culture. My Midwestern city has the reputation of being the headquarters of an international multilevel marketing company founded by Dutch immigrants. At the same time, it is the birthplace of a renowned African American boxer who has never been formally honored by the city. A band of local indigenous people have been advocating for years to be recognized federally and have so far been denied.

Whenever heritage festivals occur, it feels like wearing green for St. Patrick’s Day rather than attending a cherished family member’s birthday. Unlike the block parties where I hadn’t expected to see people from outside the guest list, it was subconsciously jarring to see White people at the festival. What was the purpose of the festival? Appreciation? Entertainment? Celebration?

I consider the city my CURRENT hometown, but would never claim it as my own. In fact, although Mexican Americans, Guatemalan Americans and I are all immigrants to the USA, my Latino neighbors have a greater claim to the city. Their first language and culture define several entire sections. Their labor fuels the economy — from car repairs to local eateries to slaughterhouse preppers (These are observations from personal experiences.). Their college aged children return to families who have lived in this city longer than I have. The blood flowing through their veins cumulatively part of this soil more than the dandelion puff of someone randomly chosen by a Dutch American couple in a land that didn’t belong to them.

Mexican is — traitorously — at the top of my list of international food favorites; with Indian a close second. My own heritage food, Korean, is in the top 5, but it doesn’t beat bronze winner, Mediterranean. Actually, wasn’t America’s “border czar” allegedly bribed by money that was handed over in a Cava bag (The new Chipotle—only Greek)?

I consider the city my CURRENT hometown, but would never claim it as my own. In fact, although Mexican Americans, Guatemalan Americans and I are all immigrants to the USA, my Latino neighbors have a greater claim to the city. Their first language and culture define several entire sections. Their labor fuels the economy — from car repairs to local eateries to slaughterhouse preppers (These are observations from personal experiences.). Their college aged children returning to families who have lived in this city longer than I have. The blood flowing through their veins cumulatively part of this soil more than the dandelion puff of someone randomly chosen by a Dutch American couple in a land that didn’t belong to them.

I consider the city my CURRENT hometown, but would never claim it as my own. In fact, although Mexican Americans, Guatemalan Americans and I are all immigrants to the USA, my Latino neighbors have a greater claim to the city. Their first language and culture define several entire sections. Their labor fuels the economy — from car repairs to local eateries to slaughterhouse preppers (These are observations from personal experiences.). Their college aged children returning to families who have lived in this city longer than I have. The blood flowing through their veins cumulatively part of this soil more than the dandelion puff of someone randomly chosen by a Dutch American couple in a land that didn’t belong to them.