Guest Column
VIEW FROM THE PIER
By Herman Sillas
Think the border between the United States and Mexico is doing anything? People are messing with it as if it doesn’t exist. Two weeks ago, Cora and I "crossed" the border untouched and unsearched. One moment I was in the United States and the next second I was in Mexico. Heck, the ground was even the same color. I looked forward to soaking in my heritage and brushing up on my Spanish.
I drove cautiously trying to figure out which road was to Rosarito. One was free (libre) and the other was a toll road. It’s faster and more scenic. I missed it and was on the libre. Construction was everywhere. Houses were going up faster than corn in a popcorn maker. I noticed that advertising signs were in English.
American real estate brokerage firms were being touted as the ones to contact. Within thirty-five minutes we were in Rosarito. I pulled into the fenced parking area of our compadres Guillermo and Delfina Lopez’s condo complex. They had purchased it back in the seventies. We all thought they were nuts. Today, I look at them as great visionaries. They spend half the year there and the other half in Sacramento.
After our arrival, Cora and Delfina went shopping. Guillermo took his afternoon nap. I painted and then stretched out and watched the waves kiss the sand. The phone rang twice. Each time I answered, saying, "Hola," hoping to get a chance to speak Spanish. The callers responded in English. Dutifully, I took down their messages.
The next evening, we were invited to a wine and cheese event at the home of Marty and Sal Mercado, friends from our days in Sacramento. I was excited because they were having about thirty neighbors over. I figured for sure I’d get a chance to practice my Spanish there. We arrived with our compadres. All present were Americans. We spoke English. Hey, what’s going on here? All these folks were occupying prime land in Mexico on long term leases. Each had their story on how they "discovered" Rosarito and its reasonable real estate prices. They referred to two English-written newspapers. One was called The Gringo Gazette. Where are all the Mexicans I wondered? Gringos have taken over Mexico’s beaches.
Later that night, Cora, I, and our compadres went to a hotel for dinner. We met a young newly-wed-couple from Laguna Beach. They said they were thinking of buying in Rosarito because they couldn’t afford houses near their place of work. Why not buy down here I thought? It can’t be a longer commute than to Moreno Valley.
After two nights and three days, Cora and I attempted to return to California early in the morning. Big mistake. Everyone who lives in Baja and works in the United States crosses at that time. There were more California license plates than on Highway 5 during rush hour. After an hour and twenty-minute-wait we crossed the imaginary line between our two countries,
Folks, that’s all borders are, imaginary lines that government officials talk about. Real people both Americans and Mexicans don’t let an imaginary line mess up their daily lives. Folks are reacting economically on both sides of the border to better themselves. Mexicans are coming here to work and Americans are going to Mexico to reside. Recently, UCLA hosted a conference on the Real Estate Boom in Baja. Eleven thousand homes and condos valued in excess of three billion dollars await sales tailored toward Americans says Patrick Osio Jr., editor with HipanicVista .com.
- I believe it. I saw it. What I didn’t see was a border that is stopping the blending of two cultures into a whole new one north and south of a political boundary. I’m not sure anything can stop that. That’s the view from the pier.
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- Herman Sillas, a San Clemente resident and L.A. attorney, can be found most early weekend mornings fishing at the pier.
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