Descendants of Jose Contreras-Zamora and Carlos Contreras-Zamora

 Sergio and Mateo

 Plaza de la Constitucion, Queretaro

 Ex-Convento de la Santa Cruz, Queretaro

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 Los Arcos, Queretaro 

The newlyweds

Speaking at the Zamorada

"Iván...Iván...Iván!"

This past weekend I attended the "Zamorada" which is an annual reunion of the Contreras and Zamora families. The roots of the Zamorada trace back to the 1950s when a number of cousins from the two families used to gather. The site of the reunion changes each year as do the people who organize the event. This year it was held in Guadalajara and about one hundred people were in attendance. The Contreras are the descendants of Rafael Contreras-Contreras and Domitila Zamora-Torres. Rafael Contreras-Contreras was the first cousin of my great grandfather, Manuel Carrillo-Contreras. The Zamora who gathered at the Zamorada are the descendants of the siblings of Domitila.

The Zamorada consisted of an early afternoon mass, followed by a social gathering made up of food, beverage, games, music and speeches. About four hours into the reunion a few elders gathered in front of the large crowd to share some words. I attempted to listen but heard little because of the activity at my table. After everyone had a chance to speak it appeared as if the speeches were wrapping up. I started to turn my attention elsewhere when I heard the words "tenemos un pariente de California con nosotros." No longer was the activity at my table a distraction. I paid close attention to what was being said and clearly heard when I was introduced to the family. As heads turned in my direction, I half way stood and raised my hand in acknowledgement. As I began to sit down I heard, "ven Iván, a decirnos unas palabras." The moment felt dreamlike and the surreal feeling increased when the crowd began to chant my name. "Iván...Iván...Iván!" I immediately thought about my struggles with Spanish but had no choice but to join the others up front. As I made my way I attempted to remember everything I had learned in my Spanish courses. Unfortunately my mind was racing in every direction and I recalled very little. While I couldn't find the words I was looking for I was not nervous at all. I was excited to share my thoughts with the family. I was handed the microphone and communicated in Spanish that I was in Mexico to learn the language and that at this time I did not think I could express my true feelings. I then asked for their permission to speak in English. I am sure most people did not understand what I said but those that did encouraged me to speak in English. I asked for a translator and then began to share my thoughts. While the translator left out a bit the underlying message was received. I regret not attempting to speak in Spanish but I am happy I had the opportunity to share some words with the family. 

After I spoke, the speeches concluded and the festivities resumed. Before I could return to my seat I was met by a dozen or so family members who introduced themselves and offered me tequila, hugs and handshakes. I spent the next two hours with family I just met, sharing stories and discussing our families histories. I had a copy of our family tree and eagerly shared it with them. The Contreras family was blown away with what my family tree contained and asked me repeatedly to send them copies. They too had a family tree but their records only reached back to the late 1800s while mine traced the Contreras lineage back to 1630. 

I left the Zamorada warmed by the love with which I was received. My experience was another example of how truly special my family is, and that is exactly what I spoke about when given the opportunity. 

Memories of the times we shared

Mi querido Tio Salvador,

Being in your home brings back memories of the times we shared. As I stand in your kitchen I reminisce on our conversations over home cooked meals. As I glance at your television I think back on us watching classic films together. As I walk by your stereo I am reminded of the melodies you would whistle. While I stare at your photos I hear your voice clear as day. I know you are here with me. I feel your presence. I sense you smiling as you watch your grandchildren play in your home. I sense your pride in seeing me reunite with your family. I miss you Tio and I love you with all of my heart.

Con cariño,

Iván

(I wrote ths small note to my Tio Salvador as I visited his home for the first time since his passing. He died two years after my last visit to Mexico in 2004.)

A childrens parade through downtown Queretaro to honor the one hundred year anniversary of the Mexican Revolution. 

Queretaro is a beautiful, historic town filled with plazas like this one, Plaza de Armas. I'll upload more photos of the city so you get a better sense of how beautiful the architecture is. 

This is my school. My "classroom" is the table on the right hand side.  

Ana Isabel is the four year old daughter of Hugo and Vanesa. I love coming home to her smile. She has an incredible amount of energy and the two of us have formed a close bond. 

Bruno Salvador is the one year old son of Hugo and Vanesa. He is the happiest baby I have ever been around. He is constantly smiling and laughing. He is a joy to be around.  

My cousins Cesar, Hugo and "Vito" after spending six hours catching up. We had a lot to talk about after six years. Hugo, in the red jacket, is who I am living with. 

You should have seen my face when I saw this sign. You know which way I turned <---

Vanesa (Hugo's wife), Ana Isabel, my Tia Chela (Hugo's mother), Bruno Salvador, Paulina (Jorge's daughter), Claudia (Jorge's wife), Jorge (Hugo's brother), Elisa (Jorge's daughter), and Hugo. 

A letter my grandfather sent to my Tio Salvador (Hugo's dad) in 1980. My Tio saved about 8 letters from my grandfather for decades and they were rediscovered a few months ago, four years after my uncle's death. Reading the letters evoked a lot of emtions. I am grateful to Hugo and my Tia Chela for sharing them with me. 

Poco a Poco

My return to being a student began with flashbacks of my undergrad years; but as I stepped into my new school I realized this experience would be nothing like UC Davis. The Queretaro Language School consists of one small building, maybe fifteen students, and a number of part-time teachers. I am enrolled in the intensive language program which consists of five hours of course work each day. I have three teachers, all of which are women under the age of thirty. My "classroom" is located on the outdoor patio and is surrounded by many plants and flowers which provide a colorful backdrop. My teachers and I share a small table and an umbrella which provides shade but does little to protect us from the morning winds. I love feeling the brisk air as I learn but being outdoors exposes me to noise from passing students and cars. During my classes I read articles and discuss them with my teachers; I review grammar and do a lot of exercises to reinforce what I am taught; I converse with my teachers about various topics; and twice I spent my class time learning in a near by market and museum.

Without doubt my Spanish has progressed since my arrival but I have often been frustrated with the difficulty I have had learning the language. As I left the United States I was overly optimistic. After one week of coursework I have realized it is impossible to become fluent in five weeks. I accept that I will not return to Sacramento speaking fluently but I know I will come back with a stronger command of the Spanish language. Regardless of my fragile confidence with Spanish, I know I have made great improvements. I cannot communicate the way I would like but I have another month to continue improving. Coming to terms with the reality has allowed me to develop achievable goals. These goals give me comfort and a positive attitude. I will come back speaking Spanish and after my return I will continue working towards fluency. As I have come to describe my progress towards my ultimate goal, "poco a poco."

Already more than I had hoped for

My heart was filled with love and joy as I left Guadalajara for Queretaro. My experiences in Guadalajara were truly special! I spent quality time with two of the oldest living members of my family, my Tio Antonio and Tio Miguel. We sipped on tequila, ate pozole, shared stories about our family and expressed our love for one another. When I was with either of my uncles or in the presence of my Tia Margarita, Tia Chabela or Tia Velia, my mind filled with images of Tamazula in the days when most of my family lived in the small Jalisco town. I pictured my grandparents, great aunts and great uncles as young adults, living simple lives and sharing laughs as they gathered for meals and parties. I imagined my father, his siblings and cousins playing together in front of their humble homes. While in Guadalajara, my mind drifted to the late 1960's when my dad travelled through Mexico with his young family. I pictured family members being shocked by the pale skin and blond hair of my brothers. I thought of my father's consciousness continuing to develop as he reconnected with his roots and family. My mind then took me to 1979 when my father returned to Mexico eager to share his culture and home country with my mother, his new bride. I imagined my family meeting my mother for the first time and being mesmerized by her beauty. Being in the presence of my elders then took me to the days when I was a young boy visiting my grandparents home. My body warmed as I thought of my grandmother showering me with love and attacking me with hugs and kisses. I recalled my grandfather, towards the end of his life, gathering his family and bringing everyone to tears as he told us how much he loved us and how sorry he was for never expressing it. This trip has already provided me with more than I had hoped for. I didn't know it was possible but this trip has given me a greater love and appreciation for my family. I am forever grateful!!!

Unas Fotos

Tio Jorge, Tia Velia, Tia Amparo, Tia Rosalba, Tia Leticia y Tio Antonio

Tio Miguel, Tio Antonio y yo

Yo y Tia Chabela

Comida Mexicana

La Virgen de Tamazula

Tia Leticia y Tia Margarita

Tequilas y ponche de granada

Tia Amparo, Tia Leticia, Refugia, Tio Miguel y yo

Family, family and more family

The last couple of days have been splendid. Two birthday celebrations allowed me to reconnect with family and meet others for the first time. Yesterday´s party was to celebrate my Tia Chabela´s 80^th birthday. My Tia Chabela is the widow of my grandfather´s first cousin, Abraham. Close to a hundred people gathered to honor my tia´s birth. The family I knew prior to this visit consisted of my Tio Antonio (my grandfather´s first cousin), my Tio Miguel (Antonio´s brother and first cousin of my grandfather) and their descendents. Most, if not all, of my uncles and aunts did not recognize me but once I was introduced they were filled with joy. I am always amazed by the warmth with which I am received by my family in Mexico. I have met most of the family just a few times yet they never fail at making me feel loved.

I spent a good amount of time at my Tio Antonio´s side. He recently turned 90 and has aged a lot since I last saw him. I believe he is the oldest living member of my family. He speaks slowly, softly and is difficult to understand. Because of this, most of the family spent their time with others. This left me the golden opportunity of having my Tio to myself. As our conversation began I asked him to share any remembrances he had of my grandparents. From that point on he told me repeatedly, “tengo recuerdos bonitos de tus abuelitos.” This translates to “I have beautiful memories of your grandparents.” My uncle said my grandparents did a lot for him and the people of their hometown, Tamazula, Jalisco. He said he always felt indebted to them. Throughout our conversation I fought back tears. As we talked my own memories of my grandparents raced through my head. I always thought of my grandparents as special people but the longer I live the more I learn of how special they were to everyone they crossed paths with. This is what my uncle kept articulating to me. At one point my Tio said, “your grandparents were truly special.” I replied by telling him that
he is special too. He quickly responded, with great sincerity by saying “I cannot compare to grandparents.” Over the past few days my Tio Antonio was just one of many people to describe my grandparents in this way.

Today we celebrated the 84^th birthday of my Tia Velia (wife of my Tio Antonio). I am amazed with how active she continues to be and hope that at her age I can have half of her energy. We gathered at a popular restaurant in Guadalajara. A handful of us arrived early and we munched on chips, salsa and a vegetable mix. I did most of the eating and began to feel full before the others arrived. This was a mistake because when everyone got to the restaurant multiple, large platters of food were ordered. The plates contained queso fundido, chicharron, carne de puerco, carne asada, adobada, chicken, guacamole, frijoles and as many tortillas as one could eat. While my stomach told me to stop eating, my mouth begged me to continue. There was no way I could look at such a spread without continuing to eat. My pallet thanked me for not listening to my stomach. Living in Sacramento and in a house that rarely cooks Mexican food, I forgot how tasty comida Mexicana is. Since I have been here, I have rediscovered how great Mexican cuisine is. Never again will Mexican food be questioned by me.

The restaurant in which we celebrated was full of life. It was obvious that many families came to the restaurant for not only the food but for the entertainment. Multiple mariachi groups serenaded patrons, dancers performed ballet folklorico, fortune tellers offered their services and women attempted to sell roses to willing boyfriends. Before we left the restaurant my family spent twenty minutes singing with one of the mariachi groups. My Tia Velia requested songs by Los Hermanos Zaizar. The Zaizar brothers are from my family´s hometown (Tamazula) and their songs are known across Mexico. As their songs (Cruz Ovido and Ceillo Rojo) were played, my Tias sang loudly and with pride. I watched with amusement and joy. The sights and sounds of the restaurant were those that can only be found in Mexico. Those of you that know Mexico know exactly what I am talking about.

The fun has not ended. My Tio Miguel invited us to his house for pozole and ponche tomorrow. Again a group of us will gather to enjoy great food and each other’s company. I cannot wait!!!

Lacking confidence :(

I struggle to gain confidence with my Spanish. I am easily frustrated because I cannot communicate the way I would like. I often sit amongst family in silence because I don´t know how to express myself. Being able to understand everything they say adds to my frustration because I know how I want to respond but lack the vocabulary to do so. My family tells me not to be embarrassed but their encouragement offers me little comfort. I am attempting to rid years of shame and embarrassment for not speaking Spanish. I don´t know how long it will take to gain the confidence to speak freely but I hope it comes soon because my embarrassment is acting as a roadblock. I know I must get past it to reach my destination.

Homesick?

Nothing cures home sickness like being with family. I am thousands of miles away from Elk Grove but don´t feel as if I am far because of the family that surrounds me. As we sit around the dinner table, conversation flows and smiles remain fixed to our faces. Love fills every inch of the room. I am happy! Nothing cures home sickness like being with family :)

Thoughts of 2004

On Flight 2910 (Houston to Guadalajara)

Last time I left the country to travel by myself I was nineteen years old. Thoughts of my youth fill my head as I leave the United States for Mexico. I am a completely different person. My last trip to Mexico came at a critical point in my life. I was still flirting with a lifestyle that caused me and my family so much pain. It was my last visit that allowed me to put that bullshit behind me. Mexico provided one of the final nails in the coffin. I have come full circle.

Mexico, here I come!

Sacramento International Airport

Tears formed in my eyes as I hugged my father goodbye. A sense of lonliness set in. To gather myself required deep breaths and looking in the opposite direction. The realization of my departure finally hit me. While I am excited about the trip, it is always difficult saying goodbye to loved ones.

This trip will undoubtedly change my life. Only time will tell what changes will take place but my heart and mind are open to the possibilities. Mexico, the land of my grandparents, father, uncles, aunts, and cousins, here I come! I am headed back to the homeland.