Soledad en masa

I’m disappointed that mariachis have moved away from the typical folk music of corridos, songs about working in the fields, and love and gravitated toward increasingly complex song structures. As a member of Mariachi Veritas de Harvard, I feel we should set the example and instill other mariachis to stay in touch with the roots of the music they play.

That’s what moves me the most every time I hear a mariachi. Read the rest of this entry »

Last night it rained here in Cambridge for the first time since I arrived. I welcomed it by running in the rain for about fifteen minutes with friends. I got my huaraches dirty, but I had a blast.

After reading Cindylu’s question on what one is looking forward to now that fall has arrived, I’ll list what I’m looking forward to:

1. Seeing seasons actually change
2. Rain/snow
3. The Red Sox in the playoffs
4. Patriots football
5. Harvard-Yale football game at Yale in mid-November
6. A mariachi competition hosted by el Mariachi Vargas de Tecalitlan in San Antonio in the beginning of December.

I have a lot of reading for this weekend. So it goes.

Gotta love the references to Los Angeles real estate at around 1:50 into the video.

July 2000 – June 2003: Member of Mariachi Juvenil Amanecer de South Gate Middle School.

May 2003 – September 2007: Founder, member of Mariachi Espuela de Plata (I left it for college; a link to our MySpace page is under the “Blogroll” on the right).

January 2004 – November 2005: Member of Mariachi Aries de South Gate High School.

September 2007 – Present: Member of Mariachi Veritas de Harvard University.

The song I used for the audition: Jose Alfredo Jimenez’s “Te solte la rienda,” interpreted by Miguel Aceves Mejia. Here is the video.

I’ve been here at Harvard for the past week-and-a-half, almost two weeks. I arrived Saturday, September 6th and was here for a week of orientation. I loved orientation; I got to hang out with my roommates and my entrywaymates. here at Harvard the buildings are divided by entryways rather than halls; people in specific entryways have to enter through the same door, forcing us to interact with each other and to be friends.

I’m the only person from Los Angeles in my entryway and one of four people from California; two are from Orange County and the other one is from the San Francisco Bay Area. I don’t see all of the people of my entryway, maybe because I am on the third floor, but I hang out with most people. We are a “diverse” group, I guess, even though six are from Massachusetts, five from the Boston area. I’m one of two Mexicans in my entryway; the other one is from Phoenix and I really like her. We have someone from Palestine and someone from Northern Ireland; they are the only international students in our entryway. Everyone else is scattered from around the United States.

My roommates are from: Powell, Ohio, Winchester, Massachusetts, and Denver, Colorado. It’s an interesting mix of ethnicities/backgrounds here.

I’m almost done choosing my courses; I’m taking two small courses and two lecture courses. So it begins at college. Yay.

He’s over-extending himself, if you ask me. I’ve been here for a week-and-a-half and I really love it. Everyone I’ve met I like. It’s awesome.

I just don’t find the time to write an actual entry.

I got here to Harvard at about 8 am yesterday after a red-eye flight from Los Angeles to Boston. I was the first of us four roommates to get here. My roommates are from Winchester, MA, Denver, CO, and Powell, OH, making me the only person from LA not only in my room, but in my whole entryway. I’m not the only brown person, though. There’s someone from Phoenix in the room next to me, but I haven’t seen her yet. We’ll see, though. I’m hungry and need to get to breakfast. It was real hot yesterday and it may rain today. Oh well.

As you could probably deduce, I don’t feel like writing much.

In 26 hours I’ll be aboard an American Airlines plane on my way from Los Angeles to Boston for college. Let me be frank about it: I despise flying. I’ve never liked it. It’s funny to think that after taking ten flights in the past year (six of them across the nation, four in the span of a week-and-a-half) I’m always thinking of the worst. The thing that gets me most: I don’t know why. I don’t know why I panic so much. I just do. I fuckin’ hate it.

It’s only a five-hours-and-a-half flight. Don’t be afraid, Diego. You’ve done it before. Just pack a few sandwiches in case you get hungry during the flight.

Another thing that gets me is that I’ve been busy packing and all that stuff and I haven’t made time to call my close friend C. I’ve wanted and promised to call her since I came back from Mexico, but haven’t had time. Agh.

I’m sorry, C.

The first song is “Ya despues de muerto” by Chalino Sánchez. Coincidentally, my friend and I both want that song played at our respective funerals.

The second song is “Recuerdos de un amigo” by Los Amables del Norte.

I could listen to Chalino for hours and hours and never, ever get tired.