I was born in mountainous California, where I was surrounded by various things and people that at the time I did not know I would miss them so profoundly. At the time I also did not know, that I loved my beautiful and extraordinary state. Saturdays were family time by all seven of us going to parties like Baptism’s, First Communion’s, or one of my many little cousins’ birthday parties.  Sunday’s were God’s day and Swap Meets. We would go to Swap Meets in the morning to see what things we could find for less and eat churros as our breakfast. Then we would go to Mass at five-thirty in the afternoon and after my dad would always ask us,
“A donde quieren ir a comer?”
We would respond with,
“McDonalds!”
But honestly the only reason why I wanted to go to McDonalds was for the surprise I would get of what toy I would be getting from the Happy Meal. But on the occasion instead of getting McDonalds we would order pizza from the local pizzeria. It was a pizza that I saw as a ginormous pizza. The deliveryman would get out of his black car, walk up to the door, and knock on the door. My mom would scream,
“Ya llego la pizza!”
We would all get excited and rush to the door, the deliveryman would slowly take out the huge pizza, and my brother would pay him then take the pizza to the kitchen. We would wait until my mom would bring the paper plates and plastic cups to open the pizza. The opening of the pizza was an astonishing moment every time, we would wait till our mom would open it to see how many pizza savers it had on it, so we could stack them and create our own “Leaning Tower of Pisa.”  Sunday’s were also mountain days with my Uncle’s and Aunt’s. We would all pack up and head our way to the mountains. I loved going up the curvy mountains and seeing the snow on top of the mountains, it was a perfect serene view. We would pick a spot with just enough sunshine, but with plenty of shade. The adults would start the fire and put the comal on top of it to start cooking the menudo, while us the children would wander off to see what we could find. Every time we would leave the mountains and put out the fire, I would just think of Smokey the Bear telling us,
“Only YOU can prevent wildfires.”
Mondays thru Friday were school days and on the occasion visiting family in Pamona. It was waking up at seven-thirty in the morning, changing then going at eight to Live Oak Elementary School. We would get out at three-eight, but Wednesdays were the best because Wednesdays were half days, the feeling of getting out at twelve o’clock was simply the best. My mom would wait for us in the white Astro outside or if not by herself WHICH my siblings and I knew that it meant we were walking home. Kindergarten, First, Second, and half of Third grade were spent there. Bawling my eyes out on the first day of Kindergarten was not a pretty view, I could not stop crying until I walked into the room and that was the first feeling ever of embarrassment because all the other kids seemed perfectly fine while I was being a big baby. First grade the lovely Mrs.Scoffield would take care of us so well. I remember a classmate Valerie crying one day when the lights went out due to a thunderstorm, she was scared for her mom because she was pregnant and Valerie did not know if she was okay. Mrs. Scoffield calmed her down by letting her know that everything was going to be okay and that she would soon see her when school was over. Second grade, the funny Mrs. Bowling would make us all laugh by the activities she would make us do, even do puppet shows to teach us so we would pay more attention. Third grade, the caring Mrs. Shaffer would put us in groups with people who we felt comfortable with to work together so we would actually converse with one another. Mid third grade when I got home one day, my parents were in the kitchen talking about something that seemed very important. I walked in and being the nosey little kid I was I asked them what is going on. My parents simply told me
“Nos vamos a mudar.”
With that simple sentence I was so excited. The next day at school I told all my friends that we were moving in two weeks, my friends would ask me “To where?” and with the excitement of the news that I had received yesterday that we were moving I forgot to ask my parents to where. My parents were planning to move to Washington, but we were going to make a stop in Mexico first. The two weeks passed so quickly, the house was emptied out; we were waiting on my mom to get the key of our now old house, so in the meanwhile we ate Yoshinoya. When she got there we said goodbye to the orange house on Redwood Avenue and made our way towards Mexico, when we got there my grandma opened the door and her eyes filled with tears as if saying
“Bienvenidos,  ahora están en su hogar.”
What was supposed to be a two week stay in Mexico happened to turn into a four months staying in Mexico remodeling our house. We packed up and said goodbye to everyone, my grandma’s eyes teared up again now telling us
“Por favor, Quedasen aquí.”
But my dad told her,
“No podemos, los niños necesitan empezar la escuela.”
We left Mexico, making our way back to the states. We made a stop in Oklahoma, to visit my uncle Manuel. The morning was foggy and I felt strange because I did not know where I was. We arrived to my uncle’s house around five in the morning, we walked up to his house where a statue of a pig was in the garden. My uncle and aunt gave us a great warm welcome, my cousin Victor arrived thirty minutes after. Around two o’clock, the rest of my uncle’s family came to visit us. I was so amazed with all these new faces which I realized at that moment that I had a huge family. After a week of staying there, I wondered when we were leaving Oklahoma and going to Washington. After three weeks had passed no one had to say anything, we all knew we were staying in Oklahoma. My uncle had convinced my dad of staying in Oklahoma because of all the good schools that it has and it would not be as dangerous as where we were in California.  I did not want to stay in Oklahoma, but I had no other choice. A feeling of regret came over me because I wanted to leave California so badly. We all started school in about March, Rosa and I started in elementary school, Jasmin and Karina in middle school, and Luis in high school. The first day of third grade I was asked my name and where I was from. I became known as the “girl from California.” I made friends fast for being the outsider.  Mondays thru Fridays turned into school days during elementary school thru middle school, but in high school turned into work days as well. Saturday’s became cleaning in the morning then getting ready to go out to the mall to shop for something for the party in the afternoon. Sunday’s turned into going to Mass, then work, then go home to do homework that would be due on the next day. I had lived through three different places, but in each one I do not feel a home. If I go back to California it will not be home anymore for I only lived there seven years of my life. If I go back to Mexico, it will be not be my home because I was not born there and we have only gone from time to time If I stay in Oklahoma, it will not be home for I have lived in Oklahoma for 9 years and I still do not feel as if I can call it a home.