12 miles south on I-25
Lucia and I went,
to Los Padillas,
to an old neighborhood characterized by big backyards with scattered toys, and pit-bulls and horses, and here and there a llama or a goat.
Between Isleta and Coors is our elementary school. Miriam, gave us a tour of her kindergarten classroom, characterized by spacious light and color.
We met Flaco the guinea pig who is definetly not flaco, but a fat and an albino. Vivian the snake was hiding, and three empty tanks sat waiting for the turtles and fish to come.
Dinosaur posters, materiales, bloques, a photo collage about Cuba, tiny tables and tiny chairs, cubbies with each child’s name and photo. The children have names like: Sebastian, Jesus and Luciana.
We piled into the car, Lucia at the wheel, Miriam pointing the way, me dutifully scribbling down facts for an assignment due Tuesday about community.
Where do students play? asks one of the questions. Another: where do they shop for food? What is the neighborhood like?
You guys need to see the poverty, Miriam said, and had us turn down a road smattered with mobile homes and broken cars. The road ended at dirt, and beyond that was only mesa. Miriam told us about César, one of her students who lives on that mesa without running water or electricity.
How do they live? I asked.
They have a generator, she answered.
Signs read:
Pigs for sale
South Valley Church of the Nazarene
Roasted piñon for sale
Small animal clinic
Two acres for sale
We ate at Abuelitas, comida Nuevo Méxicano. All the waitresses knew Miriam, and sat us at her favorite booth. We all ordered coffee and huevos, Miriam no garnish, Lucia all beans, me everything, Christmas.
And natillas sprinkled with cinnamon for dessert.
We sat, one teacher, and two to be, talking of family and chile and children’s books, and the legacy of the Los Padillas gang, and principals, and other New Mexican restaurants in our city that serve good huevos.
My first Los Padillas experience,
more to come... a lot more.
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