Tuesday, May 20, 2014

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Ed works at a typical bakery in a typical hispanic neighborhood. All he does is run the cash register. He's eighteen, college was approaching soon, and he needed to earn and save up as much money as possible. His parents would help him out with the tuition and he did get some scholarships but Ed wanted to earn a little more money. Just in case.
"Disculpe, adonde esta el baño?" 
"I'm sorry. What did you say?"
"El baño. Adonde esta el baño?"
"Oh! Okay, yeah I don't speak Spanish but I'll fetch someone who does. Excuse me." He quickly runs into the kitchen looking for Carlos.
"Carlos? Carlos? There's some old lady out there that doesn't speak english. Go help me out, yeah?"
When Carlos doesn't respond Ed concludes he must be in the bathroom or something. He goes back outside where the old-lady waits impatiently.
"I'm sorry. I'm waiting for Carlos, he can- Oh look there he is!"
Carlos walks in from the kitchen with flour all over his apron and face. His parents immigrated from Mexico when he was young, so of course he speaks Spanish fluently.
"Hi. Hola señora como le puedo ayudar?" Carlos says as he pulls Ed back from the counter.
The Spanish continues and Ed just stands there feeling like an idiot. He took Spanish in elementary school but it never really quite stuck with him. He regrets not taking Spanish again in high school because it seem as though he's going to need it a lot in the future.
When the old lady walks out of the bathroom she gives Ed a glare and says "El nopal en la frente y le da pena hablar la lengua de su raiz" Ed just smiles back at her.
"What did she say?"
"Err. It's kinda offensive. She said 'The cactus on his forehead and he's ashamed to speak his native tongue.' Basically you're ashamed of being Mexican."
"Oh." Ed says. A horrible feeling starts to creep up on Ed.
"I mean she has a point. You're Mexican-American. Spanish should be you're first language and you should always go around helping those who don't speak English. Did your parents never speak to you in Spanish?"
"No. They don't speak Spanish."
"What kind of Mexicans are you?" says Carlos as he walks back to the kitchen.
"What do you want for lunch?" yells Ed.
"Some Tamales from the street vendor outside would be nice."
"Wait, those are the wrapped thingie-majigs, right?"
Carlos walk out of the kitchen and glares at Ed.
"Seriously?"
"Is that a yes?"
"Just go," Carlos says as he rolls his eyes.

When Ed gets home he goes straight to his room. He sits on his bed and just stares at the one picture on his wall. It was a family portrait taken when he was just 5 months old. His father stands behind his mother who is holding him. They wear casual clothing and are full of smiles.
"Ed! Come eat dinner! We bought some Chinese food,"  yells his mom.
"Okay!" Ed yells back.
He wishes it was his actual mom yelling at him to eat dinner. It's not that he doesn't love his adopted mother, but it would be nice to hear his biological mother's voice. Hear her yell to him in Spanish to come eat a delicious Mexican dinner. Then listen to his father turn the radio up with some Spanish music. He imagines all this and hopes his parents listen to him when he says "Mom, Dad....I might not speak Spanish or know anything about the Mexican culture but I will make you proud. I'll go to college and will never forget where I came from. I'll always be your son Eduardo."

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