It was 1995 in Celaya, Mexico. I lived with my mom, three older brothers, twin sister y de vez en cuando with my dad.
With the sunrise, came routine. Mi Ama trabajaba bien y con orgullo; so, she was the first to leave the house. Next, were Carlos and Gera; they worked to help with the gastos. Which meant that my brother Pepe was left responsible for my sister and me.
We went to la escuela de la tarde. To get ready for school, Pepe used a trastecito with water, a comb, and a sliced lime cut in half. After many enigmatic twists, he managed to fasten the ponytail and tame my unruly baby hair with lime as the stylizing balm. It was no easy feat for either of us; and, more often than not, we ended mad at each other.
Fast-forward to 2011 Continue reading