Status Updates: Fancy That!
In 2003, my fellow mediana best friend and our white boyfriends at the time got the idea to drive to Nogales, Mexico one morning and purchase mexican fiesta dresses, margarita glasses, and elaborate sombreros which we intended to later use for a Mexican party either on Cinco de Mayo or September 16th (actual Mexican Independence Day). Then, my company started moving me all around the company and I never ended up in the same town as my friends on Cinco de Mayo or September 16th.
Until this year! So seven years later, on Cinco de Mayo (actually Saturday, Uno de Mayo), we finally had our highly anticipated Mexican party. It was perfect except for one detail: Over time I had managed to rip, and then lose my traditional Mexican fiesta dress (I last remember seeing it in Las Vegas). I waited until the day of to replace it, thinking I could easily pick one up in Guadalupe, Arizona (also known a s Little Mexico), but as it turns out, not only do they not carry authentic Mexican fiesta dresses in the shops there, but the store attendants get quite offended when you look White and ask if they know where to find one.
The party came on the eve of the passing of SB1070, a controversial initiative intended to crack down on illegal immigration in the state of Arizona, mostly targeted at Mexican immigrants. Favored by politicians, the bill was generally not well received by the Hispanic communities and much of my generation, mostly for the tactics permitted including jailing anyone suspect of being an immigrant if they do not have their paperwork with them until it is resolved, or determined they are an illegal immigrant and many activist groups since cried “racial profiling.” And yes, my family, while all legal immigrants or citizens, are not fond of it either.
Since the bill’s passing, any announcement of my intent to visit home is inevitable receiving with at least one or two jokes about watching for border patrol and having my birth certification or passport with me which is only funny because 1) I have a very white last name and 2) other than my dark hair and eyes I don’t look Mexican at all. I more often am presumed to be Italian. This was also only funny up until the night when while out with friends in Hollywood, I reach into my unzipped purse to discover my phone and my wallet both gone. Including my passport and any other form of photo ID days before a scheduled trip to Arizona. With California’s continuous minimizing of government services, the process to get a duplicate drivers license was proving to be much more longer and complicated than expediting a passport. In fact, within 10 days I was able to reestablish identity, passport in hand, by having a friend accompany me to the passport agency and swear that I am who I say I am.
And then this happened.
