stranger in a strange land

i'm supposed to write an article pertaining to the catholic church, st. francis, performing masses at the migrant camps. a priest goes out to the pine acres camp on thursdays and to the quincy camp on fridays. the masss is performed outdoors by the apartment buildings.

dennis and i went out both days to get comments, photos and film footage.

before going, i joked with dawn tht maybe i'd see some of the kids from the summer migrant program. i thought it'd be neat seeing them again after the program. we'd bonded and catching up with them would be a good thing.

dawn told me what kids were staying at which camp. i made a mental note. on thursday we arrived a little late but the mass hadn't started yet. we walked around and talked to the people before the mass. i walked near a community building and a girl walked up to me and said, "hello mr. garcia." she walked away. it was arlette. i heard her name and her cousin's name, deila, being called out. i knew they were there.

on friday we went to the quincy camp. it was cool and overcast and very few people were in attendance (like at pine acres the day before). dennis took some pics and asked me to identify one of the kids. i bent over and asked the boy his name. "juan," he said shyly. your last name? "ramirez." i knew him. i know juan. but i didn't recognize him because of the hoodie he wore and he wasn't his usual talkative self.

i noticed at both camps that the kids i met didn't really talk to me. they -- arlette anyway -- acknoledged me and that was it. it was almost as if they were ashamed to know me. or ashamed that they knew who i was.

i am not part of their group. i'm latino as they are, talk spanish, might enjoy the same mexican guisine, but that's where are similarities end.

i'm not a migrant. i think when they're outside of that life, such as when i knew them during the summer program, it was fine. they were in another world, not mine and not theirs. we shared it and it was happy.

however, when i went into their world, the migrant camp, where they live for a portion of the year, it's different. i was like a stranger. sure arlette said hello (that's her way), but then she ran off before i could talk to her.

i don't feel bad or anything, i just wish i could have talked to them to see how they're doing since it's almost time for them to make their south for winter.

also, i guess i don't blame them. i only wish the bond we shared during the summer could continue no matter where we were, their world, my world or in between.

and you guys thought this blog entry was going to be about the iron maiden song from the "somewhere in time" album. how wrong you were.