It was a crisp and sunny fall afternoon. After a shitty day at work (too much politics, too much "reorganization") I was exhausted and headed back home. Walking as usual along Fulton street I was just thinking about the new changes in my office, what would they bring for me? What would I do next? How soon should I look for another job? How should I "sell" my excellent set of skills to get a better position or a better salary, a raise? What, how, where ...?
As I was totally embeded in those thoughts I could feel the chilly wind in my face and at the same time I could feel the sun nicely touching my cheeks. I could not completely enjoy seeing the trees or the foliage that adorns Fulton street because I was so absorbed in my thoughts, but I saw them and knew they were there.
Suddendly, after crossing Carleton street a very different thought and question made me stop, this thought brought me to a screeching halt: Where am I? Is this Mexico or the US? I mean, I know I'm not lost I know I should continue walking south and I know how to get to my home, but ... is this street in Mexico or in the US?
I couldn't make up my mind. I couldn't remember exactly where I was. I didn't know which one of "my" two countries this street was in. I had to literally shake my head but the answer wouldn't come. This numbness lasted maybe for a couple of minutes but it seemed like an eternity to me. It felt like I was frozen in time and space with no available answer to my question.
Suddendly, as fast as this thought came I remembered: this is Fulton street in Berkeley, this is the US. Duh!
But, but ... Why did this happen to me? Was it because I was so embeded in my thoughts? Because I was tired? Or maybe because Fulton street is as part of my life as José María Mata or as Fco. J. Macín or as Espiridion Moreno?
Or maybe all of the above?
More transformations, more changes, more movements as time goes by. I'm a witness of my own changes, some of them I can see them wide open, some others are very subtle.
I feel at ease here, I feel at ease there. I have friends here, I have friends there. I dance here, I dance there. I have Jason here, I have dear family there.
Where am I? Where is my home?
I think I should be where my love is. I think my home is where my love is. My love is here in Berkeley with Jason. My love is there with Don Marce, Doña Paulita, Naty, Vira, July, Mary, Ceci, Paco y Janett, Sandra, Jorge, BBtin, Mayra, Ariana ...
But wait, don't I love to dance at Malonga? Don't I love Mama Naomi and Papa Zak? Don't I love taking their classes at Laney? Don't I love la danza azteca con el Güero en la misión? Don't I love being a tour guide for children and youth and showing them with pride art from my culture?
You bet I do!
Creo que mi corazón es como un pichonero, y ahí le caben muchos amores. Y como un pichonero, mi corazón tiene muchas casas.
