fiesta @ the barrio

My dad's barrio just celebrated its feast day today. Because this might be the last time I will be going there to celebrate it before I become a lawyer, I made efforts to go there.

I don't like my father's side because whenever they hold parties, it is too disorganized and people are walking, sitting everywhere. You won't enjoy eating your food because it is way too uncomfortable... but there was only one thing on my mind: that this will be the last before I am finally fully grown up.

So I went there. And as expected, it is disorganized. I know what I will be going through. And worse, I didn't even like the food, like I always do before. It was even awkward seeing all those old faces (my relatives) and a bunch of other people I don't even know because I rarely go there.

And the stories they tell me, how we are all connected, how everyone out there turns out to be my relative, how the little school down the small road was the very school my dad and his 7 other siblings went to in elementary. I saw the old house my dad's family lived in. It is now a little ruins. I still remember having some nightmares on the days and weeks I was there when I was 2.

Nostalgia. Even if I didn't like my father's side, something in me whispers that this was HOME. The simple beginnings of my father's life were there. And I see how it was important to bring myself there and begin to appreciate it because it is a part of me. And now that I am almost grown up, I do regret having not appreciated these things because now for the last time I went there to experience it before I turn a lawyer, I am beginning to appreciate it.

As I look back on those memories, I am beginning to like everything about my father's barrio. The mess. The disorganization. The food. The people. I went to the little chapel to pray before I went home. It was not like any other. I am thankful because even though I was reluctant at first, a simple reconnection to my father's roots was all worthwhile. 🙂

Yah you should! 🙂

By the way, I live in a 3rd world country so just imagine the living conditions of the people whose barrio I went to.