I miss Mexico because of its sun, its people and food.
Cloudless days, hot and melting sidewalks;
friendly people saying buenos días and smiling at you.
Endless options of deliciousness at home, in the streets, in every corner.
I miss Mexico because I was born there, I became the persona I am today in cement houses, in old buildings.
I grew up in cold cement houses, visiting churches that were hundreds years old
Because my school was beautiful and I loved going every single day.
Cement is solid and strong, like the discipline my abue raised me with.
I miss Mexico because my mum is there, the best one of all. And right now, when I think of her, I wish I could hug her.
She worked so hard when I was a kin so I could have everything,
she has always loved me, and I cannot think of a better mum.
I miss Mexico because I understand how it works, the terrible, the good.
I understand our passion for soccer, for El Tri,
our devotion to the Lady of Guadalupe,
I know the importance of telenovelas, and sadly, not to expect anything from the police, politicians and our government.
I know that you vote for the candidate who steals, but at least care about the people.
I miss Mexico because I don’t visit often, because of the sun and cement, because of my mum and everything going on in that beautiful moon’s navel land.