***Note: this entry has not been edited for grammar or presentation.***
Today was a very emotionally taxing day for me. I took a car out to small town called San Benito, about 10 miles out in the country, to go the cemetery and meet my grandparents on my dad´s side. The cemetery wasn´t easy to find, as it´s literally out in the middle of nowhere, only accessible by dirt road. I stopped at a fruit stand to ask for directions from the little boy who ran it, and after he told me how to get there, I bought some fruit from him. I asked him to bag for me 4 oranges. He did, and told me that it costs 1 peso (about 30 cents). he had told me that this fruit stand is a family business, and that they set it up next to the main highway so that truckers might want to stop and get some fruit. I asked him how much they made, and he said that in a good month, they make 400 pesos, which he said is enough to feed his family. I felt terrible for the kid, so I gave him a $10 US (about 32 pesos). The kid and his little brother almost cried.
I got back in the car and went down this lonely dirt road until I was out in the country. I made a right at the fork, just like the kid told me, and after a couple of miles found a paved road (only a few hundred feet long) that led to the cemetery gates. I parked the car and was awed by the desolation I found myself surrounded by: no cars, no people, no flower stand to buy flowers for the deceased, nothing. I walked into the cemetery and followed the signs to the caretakers office so I could find out where they were buried. No one home; as a matter of fact, when I looked through the office window, it looked like no one has been home for a while. The grounds were well kept, and there were flowers on the graves, so this place wasn´t abandoned at all. I just happened to be there when I was the only living soul for miles.
"Well", I thought to myself, "no map and no guide, so I better start walking and looking at the names on the graves". As I walked up and down the endless rows of headstones and memorial plaques, my thoughts drifted to the two people I was here to see: Matilde and Esteban. My grandparents, whom I had never known. I kept thinking to myself, "what will i say when I find them? what do you say to the dead you´ve never known?". Time seemed to drift by a little bit slower as I read each grave site, looking for their names. There were a lot of people buried here. This was a graveyard for the poor, and many (if not most) of these graves were "condo-style"; that is, two, three, or four people, usually from the same family, buried one on top of the other. "At least they will have each other for all of eternity", I thought to myself.
After about an hour (!!) of walking among the graves, I saw the caretaker walking in the distance by where I parked my car. I stopped walking down the row I was in and changed direction to intercept the man who knew where everyone here lived (figuratively speaking). He walked up to his office, unlocked that gate, opened the door, and went inside. I arrived at his door a few seconds after.
"Hola, disculpame. ¿Le puedo hacer una consulta?"
"¡Si, como no!"
"Mira, estoy buscando el entiero de mis abuelos. ¿Por favor, me ayudas encontrarlos?"
With that, he sat at his desk, opened up a big three ring binder, and looked up my grandparents. He took out a slip of paper, wrote down the section, row, and site numbers, and told me to go out the door and follow the left-hand walkway past the second monument, then turn left. When I stepped out of his office and began walking towards the memorial grounds, I felt a little uneasy, almost nervous. "Here we go", I thought, "I´m finally gonna get to meet you guys, after all these years". I followed his directions, and easily located the section and row listed on the paper (which I have since saved in my growing collection of souvenirs). I turned to walk down the row and meet my grandparents, finally.
What happened at the grave site is personal and confidential, but suffice it say that I had a good time and took some very nice pictures. The ride back to the city was quiet and uneventful. Their fate is the same as mine, the same as all of ours. I just hope that my grave won´t be as lonely as theirs.
Today was a very emotionally taxing day for me. I took a car out to small town called San Benito, about 10 miles out in the country, to go the cemetery and meet my grandparents on my dad´s side. The cemetery wasn´t easy to find, as it´s literally out in the middle of nowhere, only accessible by dirt road. I stopped at a fruit stand to ask for directions from the little boy who ran it, and after he told me how to get there, I bought some fruit from him. I asked him to bag for me 4 oranges. He did, and told me that it costs 1 peso (about 30 cents). he had told me that this fruit stand is a family business, and that they set it up next to the main highway so that truckers might want to stop and get some fruit. I asked him how much they made, and he said that in a good month, they make 400 pesos, which he said is enough to feed his family. I felt terrible for the kid, so I gave him a $10 US (about 32 pesos). The kid and his little brother almost cried.
I got back in the car and went down this lonely dirt road until I was out in the country. I made a right at the fork, just like the kid told me, and after a couple of miles found a paved road (only a few hundred feet long) that led to the cemetery gates. I parked the car and was awed by the desolation I found myself surrounded by: no cars, no people, no flower stand to buy flowers for the deceased, nothing. I walked into the cemetery and followed the signs to the caretakers office so I could find out where they were buried. No one home; as a matter of fact, when I looked through the office window, it looked like no one has been home for a while. The grounds were well kept, and there were flowers on the graves, so this place wasn´t abandoned at all. I just happened to be there when I was the only living soul for miles.
"Well", I thought to myself, "no map and no guide, so I better start walking and looking at the names on the graves". As I walked up and down the endless rows of headstones and memorial plaques, my thoughts drifted to the two people I was here to see: Matilde and Esteban. My grandparents, whom I had never known. I kept thinking to myself, "what will i say when I find them? what do you say to the dead you´ve never known?". Time seemed to drift by a little bit slower as I read each grave site, looking for their names. There were a lot of people buried here. This was a graveyard for the poor, and many (if not most) of these graves were "condo-style"; that is, two, three, or four people, usually from the same family, buried one on top of the other. "At least they will have each other for all of eternity", I thought to myself.
After about an hour (!!) of walking among the graves, I saw the caretaker walking in the distance by where I parked my car. I stopped walking down the row I was in and changed direction to intercept the man who knew where everyone here lived (figuratively speaking). He walked up to his office, unlocked that gate, opened the door, and went inside. I arrived at his door a few seconds after.
"Hola, disculpame. ¿Le puedo hacer una consulta?"
"¡Si, como no!"
"Mira, estoy buscando el entiero de mis abuelos. ¿Por favor, me ayudas encontrarlos?"
With that, he sat at his desk, opened up a big three ring binder, and looked up my grandparents. He took out a slip of paper, wrote down the section, row, and site numbers, and told me to go out the door and follow the left-hand walkway past the second monument, then turn left. When I stepped out of his office and began walking towards the memorial grounds, I felt a little uneasy, almost nervous. "Here we go", I thought, "I´m finally gonna get to meet you guys, after all these years". I followed his directions, and easily located the section and row listed on the paper (which I have since saved in my growing collection of souvenirs). I turned to walk down the row and meet my grandparents, finally.
What happened at the grave site is personal and confidential, but suffice it say that I had a good time and took some very nice pictures. The ride back to the city was quiet and uneventful. Their fate is the same as mine, the same as all of ours. I just hope that my grave won´t be as lonely as theirs.
