I just got home from studying and writing letters at a coffee shop. My friend Alex pulled up to the house to drop me off and at the same time a van was pulling into the driveway. I knew immediately when I saw the van that it was going to be Mexicanos needing some kind of help. My friend asked before letting out of the car if I wanted to wait or if I would be okay. Of course I would, I told him. They are probably here because they need some kind of help. I was a bit wrong, they weren’t Mexicanos, rather they were Ecuadorians.
They were looking for my mother. She had invited them to stay at our house for the night. They came to Columbus to work at a festival and sell their wares, they had planned on driving back to Cleveland tonight (a 3hour drive) and returning to Columbus in the morning. Unfortunately, they hadn’t sold anything. My mom thought they were too tired and too broke for gas money to be driving back to Cleveland. So, right now they are downstairs in the guest bedroom. I am used to this.
Part of me wonders if this is a recent immigrant Latino kind of thing. The same kind of thing as CindyLu coming home and finding “skinny middle-aged Mexican man in the patio tearing it apart”. It isn’t just me coming home to find a group of Mexican men cleaning the gutters for my mother. It is the phone ringing late in the night because someone has been arrested and no one speaks English so they call our family. It is coming home to find my mother’s white suburban friends dropping of bags of clothing on the front porch because my mom called for emergency clothing for a large family.
It was, when I was younger, being told I couldn’t sleep in my bed tonight because a homeless person was in it. And this extends past the poor or the recent immigrant. My dad somehow met and invited a young group of male university British soccer players to spend a month at our house. Or finding a large group of dirty punk kids that are touring with their band spread all over the living room floor.
Our house is messy, smells like dogs and cats but I love it here. Anyone is welcome, and there is always someone new around.
Sounds like your parents are wonderfully generous people and have exciting stories to tell of your house guest. Well if I’m ever in Ohio you just might find me in your living room watching novelas;)
When I was a kid … up until about 11 or 12 my mom always invited near strangers into our house. I hated it and I felt both angry and guilty about not wanting them there. I’ve always tried to be a giving person, but I’m also a private loner type and I get overwhelmed if I’m always surrounded by people. I definitley need my space and my time alone.
I’m still that way today. Back in San Diego when I was living at 1669, it was an unspoken rule that just about anyone was allowed to crash there whenever anyone wanted. I felt like such a jackass that I was probably the most mamón about this of everyone, but I definitely need some place I can call my own.
It seems like you’re able to handle it all much better. I’m envious.