Author Archives: igreene

Una llamada con mi abuela

June 13, 2022

*Incoming call from Guadalupe Greene*

Me: “Hello?”

GG: “¡Hola Isabella!”

Me: “¡Hola abuela!”

GG: “Pues, ¿Como estás?”

Me : “Estoy bien, ¿Y tú?”

GG: “Sí, estoy bien, p-pero te echo de menos.”

Me: “Aw abuela, te echo de menos. Estás muy lejas. ¿Como está California?”

GG: “Está terible. Tengo calor, quiero hacer algunas cosas pero tú abuelo no-no le gusta nada.

Me: “Lo siento. Necesitas actividades. Es un equilibrio. Abuela, tienes la familia, ¿No?”

GG: “Sí pero están un poco lejos. Solamente puedo visitar a tus primas y los nietos y no para mucho tiempo. Tienen trabjos y-y escuela.”

Me: “Yo entiendo. Es aburrido. Yo sé. Sabes que puedes llamarme.”

GG: “Sí, yo sé. Necesitamos hablar más.”

Me: “¿Abuela?”

GG: “¿Sí?”

Me: “¿Por qué no sabía que hablas español?”

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Bienvenidos a Valencia – Welcome to Valencia

I am walking down the acera on my way to my only class of the day. It’s 41 degrees Fahrenheit, or 5 degrees Celsius for the locals, and I realize I did not pack enough winter clothes for this half of the trip. It’s a 30-minute walk from my host family’s house in Ayora, Valencia to school. I do not know this yet, but 1 month from now I will purchase the city bike pass known as “Valenbici” which will cut my commute in mitad. I’m lucky though. Some of my fellow program students, and soon-to-be friends, need to use the metro system to get to school. Our host university, La Universidad Politécnica de Valencia, is large, with more students than UMass Amherst, and sits in the northeastern part of Valencia. If you’re a local student you know that the advantage of this location is that la playa is only a 30-minute walk/10-minute metro ride from school. I am hoping it warms up soon. It’s a good thing I packed more bathing suits than jackets? Continue reading to learn more about Valencia, Spain.

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Inherently Latinx, but It Took 20 Years to Feel It

Have you ever felt disconnected from your own culture? It’s okay if you have.

The majority of both sides of my family lived in Southern California. My mom is Mexican, while my dad is a mix of English and Irish. While my Latinx family grew and expanded together in California, my parents moved to the East Coast. Instead of growing up surrounded by my hispanic culture, I was raised in a small, mostly white, mostly conservative, and mostly Non-Hispanic town. I was never taught Spanish language until it was a requirement in high-school. This unknowingness of this major aspect of my family, who I would not be able to visit often, made me feel separated from my culture. My immediate family still taught me about some traditions such as Cinco de Mayo, Día de Los Muertos, and making certain dishes, but all I really knew was that I was “Mexican”.

Think: Do you ever remember a time when you were talking with your friends about each other’s heritage? Were you at all intrigued to hear what others had to say? How about when it was your turn to speak about it?

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