Robert

I hated school in Mexico. I hated school in Baja California and I hated school in Guerrero. Despite all this, I appreciate the experience and the friends I had made during my time there. Of all my school friends, you in particular are someone I still think most about from time to time.

You were one of the first friends I made in school when we went to Cuauhtémoc in Tijuana. I remember you were the smartest kid I met. It was agreed on by everyone in our 4th grade class that you were the smartest student in our grade. You always understood the assignments after one lesson and were the first to finish exams. Profe confirmed that when he ranked the top 10 students at the end of the year. I think I was number 5, but I clearly remember that you were number 1. Soon after, we would envision how in 6th grade you would have the honors of holding the Mexican flag every Monday morning and I would march by your side. In Mexico, the 6th graders with the highest grades held the honors of presenting the Mexican flag to the school. It was like the pledge of allegiance, but it was more like a color guard and way more patriotic than the US pledge of allegiance in the mornings. I don't remember the morning routine anymore or if I am even explaining it accurately, but I remember thinking it was so cool and professional. Anyway, we would imagine ourselves doing that, but you were always very humble about it at the end of the day.

I think I found comfort in you as a friend because we were into the same exact things. Although you lived in Mexico your entire life, you knew so much about American cartoons and video games and those were the things we talked so much about at 9-10 years old. You even learned to speak some English through the shows you watched. I thought to myself that I found someone who could relate to me in some way and it was fun to reference something and you knew what I was talking about. I wondered if you felt the same as well. Sometimes I didn't want to play handball or soccer and I knew you were always there to nerd out about things we would get judged about by everyone else. It was great to have each other and for moments I felt like I was back in California when talking to you.

It was so interesting to me that even the bullies thought you were cool and they never really bothered you like everybody else. The bullies in our school had no mercy and the teachers acted like nothing was ever going on. I saw a lot of kids at some point get teased, punched, jumped, shoved, chased, and everything in between. I feared the 6th graders and I know you did too, but something about you made them stray away. They were never interested in ganging up on you. Maybe it happened, but I never witnessed it. We were clearly easy targets, yet they didn't care. I think you knew how to handle yourself and knew where not to be. I feel like you had a plan every lunch break and knew where to be and I just followed along. When you, Hugo, Josue, and I got together, I think we all felt safe as a group during recess and time flew by. My anxiety was at its highest every day during lunch because I was scared of being bullied, but I would forget everything in the moment of fun when we talked and played.

From what I remember, you were a light skinned kid with a bowl cut. You always wore a zipped sweater. You were insecure about your weight because that's what they'd tease you the most about. When you got red and hot from running, you would tie your sweater around your waist and didn't care what the others had to say. You would buy lunch every day with me and always acted silly or made funny sounds. You were obsessed with Pokémon and Dragon Ball Z. I still think of you when I think of Pokémon. I remember you were very creative and imaginative so your stories were always entertaining to hear with the sound effects you created and everything. You were a class clown and always knew how to respond to other kids when clapping back. You said you had a dad, but he left to Argentina and never wrote back or called. Your mom was also very kind to my mom and my siblings. I feel like it made my mom feel more comfortable knowing that she had someone she could talk to from our school.

We actually lived right down the street from another elementary school in Tijuana, but the school principal had told us that there was no more room for my sister to attend there since the 3rd grade class was already full. He said he thought it was not a good idea if my brother and I went to a different school than her so he rejected the 3 of us from attending our neighboring school. For this reason, my mom walked us to Cuauhtémoc every morning and walked back home with us until your mom offered to give us rides when she could. I think she drove an old Dodge Caravan. Your mom would pull up in a van that we all fit in and it was nice because it saved us that long walk, especially on hot days. That gave us more time together to talk and joke about the things we wanted to talk about. You and your mom were good people. You two were a duo and I admired how you looked after one another. It sort of felt like it was meant to be that I went to that school even though it was farther out from where we lived, but that's how I got to meet you. You made my 4th grade experience in Tijuana a memorable one and I looked forward to seeing you again in 5th grade once summer was over.

…and when I found out on the first day of 5th grade that you and your mom were killed, it broke my heart.

The newspaper that the kids were passing around said that you and your mom were bricked to death by men that had broken into your house. I didn't believe it at first, until profe said the news was real. No one in class knew what to make of it. We didn't grieve. We didn't mourn. We didn't talk, really. It just was what it was. You were the light in that class and even our profe didn't have the words to uplift the room. All that remained were the memories you left us with. I think it took me quite some time to realize that you were there one day and gone forever the next. I didn't fully understand death just yet at that age.

To this day, I still think about what could have been of you. You had such an ambition and said you wanted to do so much for yourself and your mom when you got older. You told me that even though you didn't have your dad you believed that maybe one day he would write back or visit. We were just kids, man. We felt like anything was possible. I think the sad thing now is that I'm slowly forgetting what you looked like the older I grow. There was a point where I tried to forget all that because it was all too much for me. I didn't know how to handle it. I faintly remember your appearance and voice, but it used to be so clear. I remember your laugh and how good your English was when trying to talk to me, but I wonder if I will always remember that of you. Truthfully, I don't even remember your last name anymore, 15 years later.

I frequently think about all my friends from Tijuana, but you really left an impact on me mainly due to how things ended. I wish in a different life we could have remained good friends and you could have done the things you dreamed about. Maybe if we met in today's times where all the kids have smart phones, I could've at least had a photo of us or something. I'm always going to treasure the time we spent in school, but I wish we could have had more time. You were only 9 years old. I may not remember everything about you all these years later, but I am grateful that I had the opportunity to meet someone as bright as you during my time in Tijuana. Thank you for being there for me. I didn't know or understand your personal life outside of school, but I hope I was some form of comfort for you too. No matter how old I get, I will always remember a piece of you.

Gracias por ser mi buen amigo.

Descansa en paz Robert.