Annotations for Subject-headings: Environment--aesthetics

Yo crecí en Chicago. I grew up in Chicago, but every summer, my family would pack up an overloaded station wagon and drive across the border to visit my homeland, México. I have many wonderful memories of those trips to less urban settings. That was where I came into contact with nature, driving across the mountains and deserts of México. I often think that, like me, many Latinos who return to the land of their birth or where their parents or grandparents came from do so for the joy of going back to where the simple things of life are still valued. A few years ago, Texas artist Luis Guerra moved to a village in the state of San Luis Potosí in northern México. He says he was recently reminded of why he made the move as he took a long hike in the mountains in La Sierra.

La subida es dura. It's a steep climb, but after a few hours, the walking gets easier. The valleys and peaks of this beautiful, rocky Sierra spread out before you like a solid ocean suspended in time. This is a dry land, almost a desert, yet sometimes I'll find a tiny spring in a niche of a canyon wall. Or I'll happen upon a small shrine in a lonely valley. Almost every day, I'll come across a shepherd tending his flock or I'll hear the sounds of children and discover they are gathering wild herbs like oregano or rosa de castillo. Often, early in the morning, I'll see a woman or a man driving two or three burros loaded with mountain produce heading for a nearby town or city. I make it a point not to camp close to someone's home just out of respect and so as not to use up firewood that doesn't belong to me. Firewood is scarce around here. This day as I crested a hill, I spotted a ranchito, just a little two-room house, adobe walls with a flat roof.

Smoke was rising from the chimney. I was barely 300 yards from the ranchito and it would be dark soon. It was too late to move on. It was going to be a cold night and the only firewood I could find was already cut…tú sabes, for the rancho's wood stove. Ni modo. I used the firewood. I felt guilty, but warm that night. Anyway, I would make it up to them in the morning. After breakfast, as I was packing my things, the campesino from the ranchito showed up, a barrel-chested man with strong hands, a weathered face, and a scraggly beard. "Buenos días." I walked up to him and offered to pay for the wood. He brushed my words aside. "Mira, everything you see all around you is mine. Estás en tu casa. This is your home." To him, I was already his guest and my offer to pay was almost impolite. He reached into his bag and handed me a small bundle. "My wife packed this for you," he said. It was bread, goat cheese, and jamoncillo, a homemade candy made from fresh milk. We talked for a while.

I told him I was a painter who took inspiration from the Sierra. He told of his early life as a shepherd in these same mountains and of his many years as a minor in Zacatecas. "The mines are bad luck," he said. "Es muy duro, siempre en lo oscuro… always in the dark, digging with dynamite for God knows what or for whom. Here on top of the earth, we have everything a man can need. What more can one ask for? Dios provides the earth, the sun, wind, and rain. We provide the labor." He smiled. Somehow, my pack felt especially light that whole day.

Summer may be drawing to a close, but for as long as the warm weather lasts, Latinos in one area of New York City make their summer getaway to Orchard Beach. Located in the Bronx, Orchard Beach is the hottest spot every weekend for free outdoor salsa and merengue shows, and for Latino politicians to campaign for votes. Mainly, though, it's a place where Latino New Yorkers can just relax. Mandalit del Barco prepared this sound portrait of Orchard Beach.

Yo, this is Orchard Beach in the boogie-down Bronx, the Puerto Rican Riviera.

If you can't get out of the city on vacation, this is the place to go. This is our version of Cancun, our version of Puerto Rico.

Tell you about this beach. It's blacks, whites, Puerto Ricans, Cubans, Indians, Iranians, you name it. [Laughter] But uh-

This beach is full of culture you know. This beach, you got all kind of Latin Americans. Dominicans, Puerto Ricans, Colombians, Cubans. Get all kind of heritage walking around and having a good time, dancing. There's music bands over there.

[Highlight--Music--Cuban music]

I love it here because you don't see your brother, your sister, for 20 years. Hey brother, remember me? Oh, remember, I was your wife a long time ago? [Laughter]

This is the only place that we come here to forget, and not be- right, enjoy the summer. Because it's good being here, you know away from things, away from problems, away from home.

What do you try to forget about when you're here?

Stress.

Stress. Stress. Problems. Stress.

Work, accounting. Living in the ghetto, which is the most toughest part.

Right. When you come here, everything is different. When you go back home, you're back to the same old thing, same old-

Mostly we're all in projects. You know bad neighborhood, worrying about looking over our shoulders. So, this is a place where we just get away. Everybody's just being themselves, hanging out. We don't have to worry about someone coming behind us and trying to do something. This is relaxing. That's why we come here.

Everybody's trying to get away from that bad environment out there. You know what I'm saying? The shooting and the drugs and all that. Over here, it's not a bad environment. I'm saying, you don't see too many fights over here. I haven't seen a fight broke out yet. If anything, everybody likes trying to help each other. I come here to try have a nice time with my family. Have a few beers, smoke a blunt. You know what I mean?

Yeah. Really. Forget about everyday work and get out of the hot steamy streets, dirty filthy streets and stuff.

Do you ever go into the water?

Not really. I don't like going in that water, cause it's filthy. That's the truth. Where's everybody at? Look, the sand. Very few in the water. And if they're in the water, they're only in up to their knees. That's about it.

I just got to say, the water is very polluted.

Look what happened to his face. It's all red. Jellyfish got in his face.

Yeah, it hurts. It hurts a lot.

I saw there was lot of suckers in there. I wouldn't get in the pool now. I wouldn't put my finger on the pool.

It's not about going in the water. The water's no good. It's just about hanging out on the boardwalk and meeting people.

That's America. You know what I mean? Turn loose. That's what it's all about. You could be you, here in Orchard Beach. It's a symbol of all cultures exposing and expressing what America's about in one little corner of the world. [Laughter]

[Highlight--Music--Cuban music]

Our summertime audio snapshot of Orchard Beach, the Bronx, was produced by Mandalit del Barco.