Mexican Revolution: Something lost in the past.

My grandmother used to tell my sisters and me about how Mexican Revolution changes her family life. The Mexican Revolution started in 1910 and officially ends in 1917. This war that last seven years began against the government of the president Porfirio Diaz, who was in charge of the country for almost thirty-three years. People started being afraid, they felt anguish, education will be not a possibility and also they will start moving to new safe places. It affected my family because all this war makes them go away from the land they were living always to a new unexplored state.

Many soldiers were recruiting to fight in this war. The soldiers take advantage of having the power and they started to take possession of everything in the way. By this time, they were living in the south part of Mexico where the war began. The revolution was advancing and it started to takes everything on the path like places, houses, people’s lives and inclusive women. Soldiers didn’t care about nothing they will do whatever they want. My Great-grandmother decide to take her family to a safe place in the north part of the country where the war wasn’t arrive yet but, one night early morning before they leave my grandmother and her daughters will heard steps and gun shots all over the place. The soldiers were there looking for a place to stay. A strong fearful feeling came to my grandmother that something wasn’t right. The soldiers captured one of her sisters and took her with them. They never saw her again.



Many things change in my family because of it, my grandmother was crushed because she lost what she most love, a sister. So they walked all around the North part of Mexico, they passed through Jalisco, Guanajuato, Michoacan, Sinaloa until they arrived to Sonora but, in the way they must hide from the robbers and the soldiers if they wanted to be together. They hid wherever was possible, sometimes they used to be underground for almost a week or more. “Living underground is the worst thing you can probably imagine. Sometimes we didn’t have light, or food only water that came from the nearest river”, she said. When she told this to me and my sister we were touched and happy because after all she was a brave and strong woman.
In addition when they were hiding of the war, my great-grandmother thought about how can she give education to her daughters. They didn’t have time to go to school or pay for a tutor. The education that she and her sister receive was home education. My great-grandmother show them values, manners, housekeeping, and some sewing. She really wanted to go to school, which was not a possibility because of the bad war days. But when the war starts they learn new things and gain more experience that make them be more mature. “Nothing was more important than staying alive.” She said.


Moving to a new land wasn’t that easy, my grandmother would remember the sounds of the city she left once to move on. She stills remember the cold weather in summer days and she would remember what she had lost there and the people who helped them flee that city. Now, they were in a new state far away from where she knew every step of the ground to this new place that wasn’t that bad at all and that she didn’t knew. She was now a town girl and no longer a city girl. At least they would be safe there. They would start to have a life again.


Nowadays, my family and I celebrate The Mexican Revolution by going to a big parade in the same place where my grandmother started a new life. The parade is in the middle of the principal street, and we have fun watching all the amazing decorated floats. However, for my grandmother, this day is a memorable because it doesn’t represent only the fact that she needed to hide underground without light, food, water or education, it represents the day she lost something in the path because of the Mexican Revolution, the most important thing of her life, her always beloved sister.

Polite and literature

My mom often reiterated this phase to me when I was a little boy, “Tien hoc le, Hau hoc van” which roughly translates to “Politeness should be learnt first, before literature”. This means that first you have to be polite to your elders and then you can learn the alphabet. This quote signifies the importance of showing politeness to the elders compared to learning the literature. Also, this quote maintain tradition of my country. Right before I left for America, my mother took me aside and, she told me to always remember and never forget to maintain the Vietnamese cultural traditions even in America. I still remember those words vividly and I will always try to maintain the Vietnamese cultural traditions. However, it is not easy to be in America and practice my tradition or express my values. Since America is different to Vietnam, I find it difficult adjusting to the American culture. In America is hard for me to explore the idea of education, meaning of friendship and family in America comparing to Vietnam.

Education is very important in my home town, but more importantly, is the teacher. One of the quotes that we learned when we were very young is “Khong thay do may lam len”, which means without a teacher you will be nothing. That is why in Vietnam, teachers get a great deal of respect. We bow to our teachers every time we see them. We don’t argue with them or talk back to them. We obey them. In America, teachers don’t get the same respect that they deserve. Students argue with them, curse at them and even worse yell at them. It was very difficult for me to see teachers being treated like that when I first came here, but I couldn’t defend them. Vietnamese and American are two opposite polar when it comes to respecting our teachers. But I still try my best to show my teachers respect. I can’t bow to them because I did that a first couple of times and other students made fun of me. Plus, in America, people don’t bow. It took me a couple of months, but slowly without realizing it, I stopped bowing to the teacher. Even more, students think that I have an ulterior motive for being nice to my teachers. But still, I will always show and give my teachers my utmost respect.

Friendship has completely different meaning here in America. Since America is so diverse, most of the friends I have here are of different culture and background. In Vietnam, friends are like family; they are honest and sincere. Since we shared the same cultural values and religion, we were able to go play together, go to church together and do many things together. However, since it’s so diverse, most often, I don’t share the same religion or cultural practices with my friends, let alone values. Therefore, things that I was able to do with my friends in Vietnam, I can’t with my friends here in America. But one thing I still can do is go out to eat and movies with my friends.

The last thing that is quite different in America compare to Vietnam is the definition of family. In Vietnam, the definition of family is, mom, dad, children, and grandparents. A family does many things together, but the minimum least a family does eat together at least one meal a day. Here in America, I live with my brother and sister, we all have different schedule, so we often eat different times, and we rarely sit down for dinner. Also, family is not just your related blood; we have neighbors that we consider like family. In Vietnam, we used to the neighbor when we needed help, we communicate with them, we confide in them and we trust them. But here, there were many times when I try communicating with my neighbor, and they just ignore me. I even brought them food over the holidays, not only they did not reciprocate, they still seem so strange and unfriendly. I guess in America, people have a hard time trusting each other.

America and Vietnam are two polar opposites when it comes to cultural, values and tradition. From the above example, one can see that education, friendship and family have very different meaning in these two countries. I will try my best to learn the greatest and best things in America. But I will never forget my mother is favorite quote that she often tells me over the phone “Uong nuoc nho nguon” this means when you drink the water, you must remember the source. She wants to remind me to never forget where I come from and never forget the values and tradition from there. Even though I am living in the US, it’s difficult to show my values and practice my tradition everyday, but I will never forget where I come from, and I will forever hold on to my values and tradition even if I don’t get to express it everyday.

My Colorful Tradition

My grandfather used to tell me “No matter what, all people need to fight for what they want until they reach their goal”. Sometimes in order to reach that goal, it is necessary to leave things behind to start living new ones. I had always dreamed to know what freedom feels like. Now, I am miles away from the place I grew up, my traditions, my language, and my colorful culture. Culture has been the most difficult thing to handle and keep practicing in this big country that feels like a big river instead of the little fish tank where I used to live. In the U.S., they don’t celebrate “Day of the Dead”, they don’t make altares on the graves of their relatives that passed away nor do they put favorite food or drink on it.

Mexicans are known because of their colorful traditions that are celebrated almost every month. The most important tradition “Dia de los Muertos” or “Day of the Dead” that I used to celebrate in my country is almost impossible to celebrate here in the U.S. Every year in November, people like to go to the cemetery and visit the graves of their relatives who have passed away. When I was young, my mother used to pick some fresh flowers from the garden and early mornings, and she took my sisters and me to my grandfather’s grave in the cemetery were we would leave the flowers and some food. This was all done for my grandfather’s soul decides to return to eat them all. This year I didn’t practice this day because here in Chicago it is difficult to find the special materials to make an altar like the paper, the flowers, the food, and the strong tequila. Most important of all are the missing people that you love to help you making this altar.

Traditionally, everybody in the family comes together for this celebration. All the family helps making an Altar on their relative grave. Many purple chains and pictures about the dead person and things that he or she really liked are on the grave. The picture represents the soul of the person, and the chains a way to return from the beyond. They start this ritual by walking all around the cemetery and then they will cry on the grave. In the meantime, they start cleaning and decorating the place. In this city, it is hard to find all these things, and if you do for sure they have the higher prices for each object. In Mexico, everything is very cheap and you can find it in the nearest store behind your house.

Music, food, and flowers are also very important for this day. Each one has a especial meaning. They all come together to create a big party for the dead person. Their favorite music starts to play. Sometimes, it can be music that makes you feel sad or even music that can make you feel joy. The dead person that is coming from the beyond is now thirsty and hungry, so that is why we leave their favorite dish that they used to like when they were alive. For example, mole, fish, tacos, tostadas are the menu of the night, and we can’t forget the strong tequila, so they can find their way back in a happy mood. The fresh flowers are a way to decorate and make them feel like at home because of the smell. My mother always cooks the traditional mole that needs to be prepared with time, she puts all the original ingredient like, tortillas, chocolate, bread, and the peppers. In Chicago, is difficult to find the right ingredients.

In the U.S. nobody celebrates this day, so it was hard for me to practice this wonderful tradition this year. I didn’t make an altar, I didn’t put fresh flowers on my grandfather’s grave, and I didn’t put pictures or tequila in his honor. What I did was to be present in mind and thoughts on that day. Now, it makes sense to me everything what this day means. I am sure that the next year I will return and keep Celebrating this holiday with all my family.

Henri's What happend to Santa?

What happened to Santa?

In my country, the holiday season is not only a holiday season - it is celebration of happiness, joy, food, and love. Food, yes, this is a big part of the holiday season; for this, ladies and gentlemen, you better forget your diet. In France, when we think Christmas, we also think feast. During the two Christmas and holiday seasons I’ve spent in the U.S., I have never encountered anything like I did at home. I often created surprise, wonder, and sometimes, even envy by describing my home traditions. Even though people were interested, they never really tried to understand or bothered to try to make me feel a little like home. Even after two years in the U.S. I still miss my traditional holiday season, and I am scared to have to live on memories for another couple of years.

The Christmas celebration is probably the greatest celebration of the year. Usually, at home, we started to plan the decorations and meals at least one month before Christmas eve. Usually the house was decorated by December 15, my brother’s birthday. I was really surprised to see that in the three families with whom I spent Christmas in the U.S., the indoor decorations were very light, whereas the outdoor were usually over the top and more like a competition between neighbors. In my family’s house, as far as I remember, the inside looked like a fairy tale coming to life. I remember decorations shining on each and every wall of the main floor, and of course the Christmas tree - a green glittered giant, full of colorful pendants and fluffy scarves. At its feet were the gifts, all those colorful boxes, each prettier than the next. As kids we were so convinced that it was Santa who was traveling from so far to bring us those marvelous rewards. I also remember my parents warning for the three of us, saying that if we do not behave, nothing will be waiting us on Christmas morning. Now that I am an adult, and I know that my parents were using this trick just to make sure we would be quieter. I worked with three different families since I arrived in the U.S.A. Two years ago I worked as an au pair, and as far as I remember, I do not think that any kids really believed in Santa. From what I can see, the old trick of “behave or no present” does not work. For me, the presents were something coming from the heart of my family and not from the wallet like I saw in my employers’ families. My last employer spent more than five hundred dollars on toys for one of their two children. After that I just had a question, what happened to Santa? What happened to my dear, lovely and precious Santa?

Fortunately, New Years Eve was a little better. But still, the nostalgia of the home costume was with me. New Years Eve was with family and dear friends. I remember the few last New Years Eve spent with my closest friends. We prepared the dinner, enjoyed the time spent together, and joked and laughed. Not my last New Years Eve, but the one just before that brought me pink hair. The friends with whom I was spending it decided to dye my hair without having me know the color until it was finished. As a kid, the celebration was with my family, enjoying a feast of marvelous and delicious food. Not as much as Christmas and the feast composed of sea food, poultry, fish, foie gras, and of course the traditional twelve desserts. For New Years we usually eat a lot lighter - it is more like sea food, poultry or fish, foie gras, and dessert. After the dinner that usually does not finish until midnight or even later, comes the wishes for health, success and prosperity. We go toward each other, exchange kisses, and exchange the wishes and the best feelings. The evening ends with the end of the dinner and jokes. My first New Years in the U.S. had a slight taste of home, I mean by this that the company was good, the food was great, but I would probably stop the comparison there. My second one here was just people drinking. Even before crossing over the New Year, half of the people, if not more, were drunk. Is it just me who did not react in the same way as the others because I come from somewhere else, or is it just that I did not have my place at this kind of party?

I think the celebration that is really lost for me is Epiphany, the time during which we “tirer les rois”. Unfortunately, this does not really translate into English very well. The best despription would be akin to “sorting the kings”, but even that does not explain this French tradition very well. Tirer les rois is an old tradition that started in the middle ages. This celebration, which consists of eating a special kind of pie on the first Sunday of the New Year, traditionally occurs in the taverns. The pie is filled with an almond-powder base, in which is hidden what we call a fève, which is a kind of bean. The custom was that the person who picked the piece of pie with the bean was supposed to buy a drink for all people present in the taverns. Nowadays, the bean has been replaced by a ceramic metallic figure in order to prevent people from swallowing it like before. Now those little pieces of art are the subject of interest of many collectors, who are ready to pay a lot of money for some of them. Tirer les rois is a common way to celebrate Epiphany. Traditionally, we cut the pie, cover it with a clove and make it turn at least seven times on itself. When all of this is done, the youngest person sitting at the tables goes under the table and without looking says the name of the person to whom the slice of pie should go. The person who found the fève is crowned king for the day. I remember as a kid, my parents used to burn a cork to draw mustaches on our face. It appears to me today that this tradition is nothing more than a dream.

I did not know that by coming to the country that I dreamed of since I was six years old, I would have to put aside some of my dearest times of the year. No one warned me about how much this worldwide custom, that is the holiday season, would differ between the new and old world. I sure miss the celebrations we have back in France, but the good thing is that it will allow me to enjoy them even more when I go back home. I will forever remember how much fun it was to decorate the house and prepare for those feasts. We were all dressed up and prepared to share this precious time with the ones we love and care about. In all the Christmas seasons that are precious to my heart, the one that I will remember maybe the most is the first one we spent in our new apartment after my parents divorced. It was my mother, sister and I. It was something small but so full of feelings. It was my sister and I who decorated the house for my mother, and we put all our heart on the task.