5 posts tagged “el paso”
Here's a little video that me and a couple of my classmates made. The words are from a poem by Juan Felipe Herrera called Senorita X. I think it came out quite well. Please to enjoy:
Hey. So I've been interning all semester at the Times and they've moved me to the newsroom.* I've written three printed articles! The first was about a Good Friday choir and orchestra performance (conducted by the very prestigious Prentice Loftin, and starring several talented singers). The third was about the Abundant Living Faith Center having some kind of Spring Break convention for teens. But my second article was about a visit from Dr. Edith Eva Eger to an annual fundraising gala sponsored by the El Paso chapter of the UTEP Alumni Association and the College of Education. Phew, that's a lot of typing.
Anyway, I interviewed both the precious Dr. Eger and also the very formal and kindhearted Mary Helen Padilla, the dinner committee chair, for my article. I was very nervous because Dr. Eger is not only a celebrated graduate of the University of Texas at El Paso, but she is a Holocaust survivor. I've always treated this subject very delicately and for one of my very first articles, I felt like I had to walk gingerly in the telephone interview. It turns out that Dr. Eger was a very personable and soft-spoken interviewee. I felt very honored to speak with her, but my questions remained in the realm of "How do you feel about returning to El Paso to speak?" and "What are some of the highlights of the message you want to send to attendees?" I was urged for my questions to remain "relevant" to her visit: it's to raise money for scholarships. Well, I had a feeling that it was more than that; I scoured the clip files and found that she is one of a small community of European immigrants that came to El Paso after World War II. I found an article dated in the late 80s that profiled the lives of Holocaust survivors who came here to build a new life. All of their stories were astounding. One of them founded El Paso's Holocaust Museum (an establishment which has had a very unlucky run). Another was a twin who along with his brother was experimented on by Dr. Josef Mengele. He sought justice and spoke out against Nazi war criminals up until the final disappointing verdict (the Angel of Death could not be found). I really have to show the article to you someday.
As I continued writing and doing research in the archives, I began to really really want to go to the event. But a single reservation was $50! Speaking with the committee chair was fun, as she was very easygoing and pleasant. She even offered to accomodate me if I was going to write a follow-up article. I asked my superiors and I was denied. Such is the fate of an intern. Luckily, my aunt's law firm reserved a table at the gala with extra seats so I was able to go after all!
Odds are, they won't assign me a follow-up, so I thought I'd write one up to put on here.
First, though, if you want, you can follow this link to read the actual story.
*Just to tell everyone, my views do not reflect those of the El Paso Times or its affiliates. All disclaimer-like.
So I was a little too harsh in my entry about my hometown. I also posted it on my (shameful) MySpace blog application and received a few responses. "El Paso is like a crazy aunt: you love her, but sometimes she can make you embarrassed that she is a significant part of your life." And also, "I think I've had too much to drink."
I'm not really sure what to make of those comments. I guess the former is true-ish. And I'm not very surprised about the latter. I appreciate the feedback.
All things considered, I have moods. I was bothered. Some man came into the store and told me to get the hell out of El Paso if I wished to make something of my life. He told me to look up someone he knew who worked as editor-in-chief at the Baltimore Sun. Something like that. He kept telling me about how people who live here don't know a thing when it comes to comparing them to other American minds. He felt like a character right out of the movies.
Yes, I am determined to leave. But never, ever am I going to stop loving my hometown. It's difficult to forget this place if you wear it like a locket.
I wish I had something nice to say about my life right now, I really do. I wish I had some nice thing to dwell on about the city that I live in. Something that I haven't told myself before. And I do love this place, don't be mistaken, but...
In essence, I want to leave this place. This hot, dry city has cradled the cardboard puzzle pieces of my life in its palm since I was born. If I were to leave, I'd be afraid of the pieces coming apart and blowing away, thus losing myself in the process. I have no idea what I have built for myself here. The product may be described as having little to no impact on earth.
Despite it's 400 year history, once brilliant hotels, once booming shopping and business districts, and formerly glamorous theaters and other great structures, El Paso has become a moderate wasteland. My university, UT El Paso, is sort of looked upon as the least favorite of all of the schools in the UT system. As many times as I tell myself and believe that I love it, there's always that one person I run into who tells their story about how they managed to "escape" El Paso and go to a different college. One of my own classmates told me that UTEP was a school with a 98% acceptance rate that handed out diplomas to apes. Spit on my face, why don't you?
This town looks lackluster to visitors, and to many inhabitants. And though there may be some viable attractions, in the end, they are a let-down. Not to mention it pales in comparison to other cities that offer what we claim to do-- generally speaking -- but there are a few exceptions.
The few things that I will give El Paso points for are authenticity and charm. I guess. I mean authentic because we've got to have the best mexican food in America (and maybe the most spanish speakers. And pretty good flea markets). El Paso had been legally a part of Mexico for longer than any other large city in Texas. Forget San Antonio. They may have awesome mexican food too, but no one really wants to pay $7 for a couple of "gourmet" tacos at lunch time. I wouldn't trust their menudazos unless I heard about it from a close family member. Their Gran Mercado is nice with plenty of things to offer, if what you're looking for are overpriced recuerdos and street performers playing pan flutes. If someone were to buy into all that and claim it as authentic, I would call that person an ill-advised tourist. But in most other ways, San Antonio kicks El Paso's ass. I'd visit San Antonio for everything else except authenticity.
El Paso can provide anyone with a real taste of Mexico. Ciudad Juarez is our neighbor and as populated (and share the same crime rate) as Houston. It offers an ample nightlife, several attractions and historical monuments, as well as being a completely different country. Their Gran Mercado offers everything from toys to food to designer knock-offs to whatever. I once saw a crumpled man either asleep or dead on the sidewalk. I knew I was in Mexico, then. Juarez is a destination that I hold as dear as any foreign country I've visited. Especially because I can visit practically whenever I want.
Who am I kidding? I haven't been there since last year. I went to the movies and saw Green Street Hooligans at a mall.
Examining the people who live here, one would agree that our citizens are dumber than most other populous cities. We are. There are statistics to prove it-- which we either ignore or are unable to read. From sea to shining sea, we're a joke. Some people in East Texas still think we ride horses here (because idiots can exist anywhere). I try so hard to be proud of this place and find it much easier to be proud of each day that passes that doesn't suck.
This place has always been a part of my life even though I have not lived here for all of it. Growing up dirt poor, surviving on beans, rice, and tortillas (not kidding), living in the middle of nowhere (well, New Mexico), in the Land of Enchantment. El Paso's city limits were always 25 minutes away. My parents couldn't even afford to live in El Paso 15 years ago. It was my dream city; the only city I knew. Whenever I was at my grandma's house, I used to love watching the star on the mountain come to life with a few flickers at sunset. Going home and driving down I-10 meant looking out the window at a land that was lit far into the southern horizon. And by the time we got to our house, it was gone, out like a candle with only smoke in the darkness.
It was only until I moved here that I realized all my new classmates thought it sucked to be us. Until I was 11, I didn't know we were poor. Whatever poor means, anyway.
El Paso is a sad, sad place if someone were to really take the time and look at it from afar. But that doesn't mean that it can't also be described as beautiful. This town is an enigma to me, and is always seen retrospectively through a sienna-colored filter. My early memories are golden to no one else but me and the mother who raised me. And in some ways, that can mean the most out all of these ridiculous things our minds are swimming in on a daily basis. The words "El Paso, Texas" don't just represent a lonely point on a map. They help me realize who I am and what world I live in.
El Paso is probably the home to the strangest weather patterns in the desert. Last week, there was an actual TORNADO that touched the ground in El Paso County. The same day there was a flash flood that submerged a few cars at the university. Last night, the entire city was woken up at 3 in the morning to what sounded like a barrage of iron bullets on our rooftops. I was dreaming, deep deep sleeping. And suddenly lights infiltrated my eyelids. I woke up to lightning flashes and thunder. Light rain. It was almost soothing at first. And then plunk, kerplinker, kleep, nick, tang. Every onomatopaeia you can think of until you get to BOOM! on repeat. I thought we were being bombed. The dogs were barking, the cats ran to hide. And my mom and brother and I all met downstairs in the garage in awe at the weather we were helpless to change.
The hail-bullets were the size of quarters. Wha? What is this nonsense? Who can predict this? Tornados? In a land surrounded by mountains? Flood? Where our annual rainfall is less than 3 inches a year? 15-minute midnight Hailstorms? What's up, God?
My car has little dents on it now. Great.
