Hello dear reader, I hope you are having a wonderful Halloween with friends and family.
Funny enough I had no idea that Americans also celebrated this holiday until I got to NY in 1987. I remember when I saw people dressed up and was happy to see that there was something in common between both countries.
To continue my story; I slept on the sofa for a few months. My Grandaunt's son Xavier worked at "Chevy's" in Manhattan. It was a 50's theme night club owned by a Latino. He was a Bar Back; in charge of getting the bar stations ready before opening and assisting bartenders once they were open for business.
He filled my application with bogus information and I became a dishwasher. I got paid every week with a check; Xavier got me a fake ID so I could cash the checks at a check cashing place that didn't look at ID "too closely".
Those were some of the happiest days of my life in America (before I got married). The bartenders shared their tips with bar backs and dishwashers so I was thrilled to get a bit of cash at the end of the night. Sometimes it was a bad night and I'd get $5 and some nights it was insanely good and I'd go home with over $50.
I was treated well, almost the entire staff helping me learn English, which I was picking up at a good speed. I must mention that at the time I decided that to learn the language at a fast pace. I would only watch TV channels and listen to Radio stations in English, avoiding Spanish programming. This somewhat alienated the family, I think they assumed that I was being.. a snob of some kind. I didn't care of course, their feelings made no difference to me whatsoever, except when it came to my Grandma's. She never criticized me about it.
Taking the subway from Brooklyn to Manhattan was always an event for me those days, because I would see the Statue of Liberty. For many years I identified with the statue, it made me feel welcomed in my new country. I didn't want to feel Peruvian, my entire life there was the source of all my pain and suffering. I wanted to be an American.
Working at the night club as a dishwasher I was able sometimes to sneak a few drinks at the end of the night. The manager never caught me, and the few staff that saw me drink, just grinned and smiled. I got away with many things during my time there. There was a door leading to the alley behind the club where the dumpster was. On occasion I'd smoke with a bartender back there whenever I could get away with it. Hint: they were not cigarettes.
About half the bartenders were female, and they taught me to be a bit more confident and social. They were beautiful, kind and always smiling. It was one of the few jobs where I had female coworkers that treated me decently.
Unfortunately my time there didn't last long, in less than a year it was sold to a corporation which wanted to verify all employee identity. Xavier had no problem keeping his job, I had to quit the first week it was under new management.
Well, that is all for tonight. Until next time dear reader.
May you walk in the light of God.
Sincerely.
Luis
Showing posts with label Peruvian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peruvian. Show all posts
Monday, October 31, 2016
Wednesday, October 12, 2016
How Hitler made me forget Germany
Good day dear reader, I hope you had a great week. Mine has been interesting.
A friend of mine who is also homeless is back in the hospital. I've been looking after him for weeks because he is 75 years old and his memory sometimes fails him. He forgets to take care of himself, so I became his friend while helping him out.
In my previous letter, I mentioned leaving Germany, which was the best part of my childhood. There is no other way to describe it. Even today I can close my eyes and remember looking out the window to the street below, the beautiful German neighborhood I lived in.
I don't quite remember arriving in Peru. What I do recall, was that we met my grandma, and she was very kind and sweet to me. At first I could not understand her, but I felt her love. Mother decided to place me in a private school to help me adapt.
That was a big mistake. Because I spoke German the kids at the school started to say "Hail Hitler" to me (among other thing). At the time I didn't know what it meant, but the tone in which was spoken made it clear to me, that I was being insulted. I got bullied every day, until I told my mother about Hitler.
She became very upset over it and took me out of that private school within days. I thought that speaking German was bad, so I started to watch TV more; kids shows of course. While my mother was figuring out where I should go to school; I was learning Spanish in record time.
By the time she decided on the local school "Don Bosco" my Spanish was good enough so I wouldn't be picked on. I didn't take long to become a normal Peruvian kid. My favorite sport was basketball, rather than soccer (we call it Futbol).
I had good grades, wasn't a troublemaker and only got into one fight with a kid which was... let's say heavier than me. I must've been around 10 years old when it happened. He was a little older than me, the fight took place at a park not too far from the school. A lot of kids were there, forming a circle around us.
I remember that he hit me first. I took a punch to the right side of my face and asked him "Is that the hardest you can hit me?". He then charged me at a speed I didn't think was possible (because of his weight).
Next thing I'm on the ground and he is on top of me, sitting on me. I'm face down, unable to get up. He is just jumping up and down as if I was a sofa. Everyone was laughing, while I was in pain every time he put his weight down on me.
I had no choice but to give up. He got up and made it clear to everyone he was the winner by raising his arms. I don't even remember the reason for the fight, but it was the second time I felt embarrassed, the first being called Hitler.
Funny enough, within a few weeks we sort of became friends. Not close friends, but close enough that nobody would even think of messing with me. He was a bully and nobody in our class ever challenged him. The kids which were in the higher grades didn't mess with him either,
That part of my childhood was average I guess. My family was middle class, well, lower middle class. We did not own a house, we rented. I tried to forget Germany, because it made me feel as if I had gone from paradise to a bad place.
One day for some reason that I can't quite figure out myself to this day, I faked passing out right after school was out. I was so convincing that one of my teachers took me to the principal's office so he could take a look at me, The school was run by Father Pighi and Father Puy (I think that is how it is pronounced, I could not find any info online about Puy).
I "woke up" on the leather couch in the office and pretended to not know how I had gotten there, my mother showed up worried but I assured her that I was feeling fine, I suspect that maybe I did it to get her attention because she was sort of dating one of my teachers, but I really don't know if that was the reason. After all, he was one of my favorite teachers.
Within a few years I had totally forgotten my days in Hamburg, instead my mind was in getting candy, playing games at the local arcade, playing basketball at my school (after classes were over).
However something which in the long run would change my life came out of nowhere. Grandma, the person I loved the most (more than my mother) was leaving us. She had a sister in New York and she was going to join her. I had no idea why she had to go, I begged her to stay but all she would say was that she loved me and that she would send me gifts.
I had no idea why she was leaving. Of course now I know why she did it. Our family was struggling financially, I didn't see it because I was a child. Had she stayed... I'm pretty sure she would have protected me from the nightmare that would taint my childhood forever.
It won't be easy writing the next letter dear reader, but I will try my best.
May you walk in the light of God.
Sincerely.
Luis
A friend of mine who is also homeless is back in the hospital. I've been looking after him for weeks because he is 75 years old and his memory sometimes fails him. He forgets to take care of himself, so I became his friend while helping him out.
In my previous letter, I mentioned leaving Germany, which was the best part of my childhood. There is no other way to describe it. Even today I can close my eyes and remember looking out the window to the street below, the beautiful German neighborhood I lived in.
I don't quite remember arriving in Peru. What I do recall, was that we met my grandma, and she was very kind and sweet to me. At first I could not understand her, but I felt her love. Mother decided to place me in a private school to help me adapt.
That was a big mistake. Because I spoke German the kids at the school started to say "Hail Hitler" to me (among other thing). At the time I didn't know what it meant, but the tone in which was spoken made it clear to me, that I was being insulted. I got bullied every day, until I told my mother about Hitler.
She became very upset over it and took me out of that private school within days. I thought that speaking German was bad, so I started to watch TV more; kids shows of course. While my mother was figuring out where I should go to school; I was learning Spanish in record time.
By the time she decided on the local school "Don Bosco" my Spanish was good enough so I wouldn't be picked on. I didn't take long to become a normal Peruvian kid. My favorite sport was basketball, rather than soccer (we call it Futbol).
I had good grades, wasn't a troublemaker and only got into one fight with a kid which was... let's say heavier than me. I must've been around 10 years old when it happened. He was a little older than me, the fight took place at a park not too far from the school. A lot of kids were there, forming a circle around us.
I remember that he hit me first. I took a punch to the right side of my face and asked him "Is that the hardest you can hit me?". He then charged me at a speed I didn't think was possible (because of his weight).
Next thing I'm on the ground and he is on top of me, sitting on me. I'm face down, unable to get up. He is just jumping up and down as if I was a sofa. Everyone was laughing, while I was in pain every time he put his weight down on me.
I had no choice but to give up. He got up and made it clear to everyone he was the winner by raising his arms. I don't even remember the reason for the fight, but it was the second time I felt embarrassed, the first being called Hitler.
Funny enough, within a few weeks we sort of became friends. Not close friends, but close enough that nobody would even think of messing with me. He was a bully and nobody in our class ever challenged him. The kids which were in the higher grades didn't mess with him either,
That part of my childhood was average I guess. My family was middle class, well, lower middle class. We did not own a house, we rented. I tried to forget Germany, because it made me feel as if I had gone from paradise to a bad place.
One day for some reason that I can't quite figure out myself to this day, I faked passing out right after school was out. I was so convincing that one of my teachers took me to the principal's office so he could take a look at me, The school was run by Father Pighi and Father Puy (I think that is how it is pronounced, I could not find any info online about Puy).
I "woke up" on the leather couch in the office and pretended to not know how I had gotten there, my mother showed up worried but I assured her that I was feeling fine, I suspect that maybe I did it to get her attention because she was sort of dating one of my teachers, but I really don't know if that was the reason. After all, he was one of my favorite teachers.
Within a few years I had totally forgotten my days in Hamburg, instead my mind was in getting candy, playing games at the local arcade, playing basketball at my school (after classes were over).
However something which in the long run would change my life came out of nowhere. Grandma, the person I loved the most (more than my mother) was leaving us. She had a sister in New York and she was going to join her. I had no idea why she had to go, I begged her to stay but all she would say was that she loved me and that she would send me gifts.
I had no idea why she was leaving. Of course now I know why she did it. Our family was struggling financially, I didn't see it because I was a child. Had she stayed... I'm pretty sure she would have protected me from the nightmare that would taint my childhood forever.
It won't be easy writing the next letter dear reader, but I will try my best.
May you walk in the light of God.
Sincerely.
Luis
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