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A little bit of history, part IX

What happened between fourth and fifth grade impacted my life… there are some memories…

My first job

My father bought a shoe box with all the stuff required to have shiny shoes at home, so I asked why he did that, so he explained me that if we pay, we needed to expend 2 pesos on each pair, but with the supplies he bought the cost will be minimum, so it could be a great saving… when he mentioned the amount some one paid, I ask myself, why not to use the box… to get some money… and that’s exactly what I did. To have an idea of how much a peso worth, the exchange rate was 8.25 pesos per dollar, so a peso was about 12 cents.

I took the box to the street and started offering the service for 1.50 pesos… to get customers faster than regular shoe cleaners… on my first day I made more than 20 pesos, because my satisfied customers paid me 1.50 plus a tip… on some pairs I earned more than 2 pesos. I was happy, so I went to the store, I bought one Red Mundet soda ( 45 cents) and animal cookies (5 cents) and I went to the shoe repair store to get more supplies, and to be ready for the next day. So, after supplies and refreshments, I got 15 pesos, that I gave to my mother, I don’t remember what she said, probably she was speechless, but I was so happy to find out that I was able to earn money and I was able to help my mother with some… I discovered on the following days, that not all people want to do their shoes every day, so on those days I just made few pesos… My first business was productive until my dad discovered that I was using the box outside the house… after a close encounter with his belt, I stopped doing shoes, but for the first time I discovered that I was capable to generate some income… I thought that was unfair not allow me to do something, I was sad… thinking what to do…

Freedom at least!
One day my dad brought to the house a used bike it was a little big, but it was for me, he taught me how to ride, and I learned really fast… so I started riding my bike outside the house, first just around the block but then I started to go far and farther every time… When I rode my bike I felt free and happy… I also learned to patch the wheels and how to repair the bike, to adjust the breaks, some afternoons I was at the bike shop helping the owner to fix bikes, and some days he gave me few pesos or other days he just allowed me to fix my bike for free… I never told my mother that I got the money, but I liked to open his purse and slip in my earnings there… (After get some refreshments, of course or supplies for my bike), I was afraid to be punished for getting money. One day my mother cached me with money on one hand and with her purse on the other, she though that I was taking money from her and she hit me really hard, she was really upset, but I never explained… I just walked out with my bike. When I was sad or depressed I just jumped on my bike and rode as far as I was able to go… then, tired I returned home.

My first musical encounter…
One day, my father bought a Guitar and he gave it to Pepe, my older brother, and he started learning… while he was learning I was observing, and as soon as he finished with the class I was trying to repeat what I observed… and that was how I started playing guitar… the guitar was bigger than me, but I got the gift, so some day I was playing something and then my mother asked me, that who taught me, and I just said… no one… I loved the guitar. The moments with my guitar and with my bike were the most peaceful moments of my life… When my dad found that I played guitar, he bought me one… just for me. He explained to me that the best guitars made were from Paracho, Michoacan and he got one for me it was the first time he told me that my grandfather was an great Musical Director. I loved him so much for that… there was something between fear, anger, love and frustration that was always around my relation with my father.

Then I started on the new school… fifth grade, I learned to use a public bus… the ticket was 25 cents, and guess what… the new school had a chorus! On my first school day the teacher asked if some one knew how to play guitar or any other instrument and… I knew it… a new chapter in my life was about to start… but as I said… that, is another… Chapter 

Comments

  1. Love

    We need a bike.

    And one more thing: where is your guitar?

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hola primacho... Le lei a mi papá lo que escribiste y opino lo siguiente:
    Desde siempre observe en ti, una apertura total a muchisimas opciones tanto que puedo opinar que eras: lava-coches, mandedero, mecánico, nos asombrava ver que le metieras mano al vocho le bajaras el motor y lo volvieras a poner como si nada, y nos asombraba que a tu edad fueras capaz de hacer todo eso, y te manifestabamos nuestro asombro, y hasta la fecha nos sigue asombrando.
    Te quiero mucho.

    Tu tío Manuel

    ReplyDelete

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