All of my thoughts are about returning*

Antonio is from Colon, Nayarit. He became a migrant during the bracer period; then he would cross the border with no documents; he would later obtain his documents, sponsoring his wife and children. As many migrants from Western Mexico, he was white with colored eyes, so that helped him to cross without being questioned. That happened to an extreme that one time he was thought to be son of an American. However, not everything was easy. Several times he almost gave up. Perhaps the most frustrating situation was to discover that “people also get sold”. His life as an illegal has been quite difficult; crossing the border on his own, just to save the smuggler’s fee, may sometimes be fatal.

In addition to his worries and suffering throughout Antonio’s migratory life, cost his wife to lose a baby while trying to cross the border while pregnant. It was a baby boy, after having had already seven daughters. Now, he lives and works in the United States. Agricultural jobs are not for him. His opted for working within a city. He lives like many other Mexicans, in East Los Angeles’ barrio.

* Interview done by Enrique Martinez Curiel in Los Angeles, California in August 1991.

I am from Colon, Nayarit. I got my elementary education there. My father left to work at a Hacienda in Jalisco, known as Tomatlan. He liked agriculture very much. Since Jalisco had good land, he left me with my older sister who had just gotten married. I moved with her so I could continue my elementary school. However, my brother-in-law experienced a very bad economic situation, and emigrated to the North. That year was bad for my brother-in-law. I felt that I was being a burden for them. My sister grumbled a lot, and one day she spanked me so bad and I left her.

I left on May with some people who were going to Tomatlan. I moved with my father, who worked all day long in the fields. Every time it rained and we were working in the fields with sandals, I remember feeling the stones on my feet. My feet used to bleed and I thought: “why didn’t I continue studying?” We stayed in Tomatlan from 1951 until 1959.

The first one to emigrate to the North was my older brother, then everybody else. As I grew up, I told my dad that I didn’t like it there anymore. I told him that I wanted to return to Colon in order to leave to the United States, since there were more opportunities there. I said that because my older brother and my brother-in-law came and went as they pleased. My father didn’t want to emigrate since he was feeling old.

From my brothers, the oldest one came in 1957 as his last time. The other one went to Texas in 1965. Another brother lives in Varas. I also had another brother who died, but he never emigrated even though he desired to; he got as far as Tijuana, and since he couldn’t cross, he returned home. Then, the youngest one came as an undocumented migrant just before coming as a contracted worker at the Ensenada highway. That’s when my brother and brother-in-law came.

It was August of 1971 when I came to work to the U.S. for the first time. I worked picking up peaches. A month later, that job ended. It was a very good job because I got paid about 35 or 40 dollars daily. Most of the people from Colon came that year to work picking up figs, and they would stay longer. However, the pay was more when working picking up peaches. That last time, just before returning, they called me:

- “Antonio Huerta”

- I replied, “Yes?”

Since I do have blue eyes, the person who called me said I was the factory of an American. I got upset and I said that his country was the factory. He apologized. I had to return the next day, then my wife’s cousin told me:

- Why don’t you talk to Felipe, the one who called you the factory?

While we ate dinner, I was thinking on talking to Felipe to ask him for a job. I went outside and waited for him. I picked up the newspaper for him, and when I gave it to him, he said:

- How are you doing Antonio?

- “Is it true are you sending me back to Mexico?” I asked.

- “Unfortunately yes. There no more work here; work is over” he said.

- “It’s not enough, since I’m just getting back the money I invested to come. I want to help my parents since I’m the older one, and I have about 25 or 26 younger siblings” I said.

Of course I was lying then.

- “You have good intentions, but there’s no way for you to stay,” he replied.

- “But, there are people staying to pick up figs. Why don’t you transfer me there with my cousin,” I said.

- “Let me see what I can do. I’m just the supervisor, but not the boss. Let me talk to him. In any event, just get ready in case I get something for you,” he said.

The next day, we were almost departing when he arrived. He was looking for me and asked me for my check’s number. When I gave it to him, he said, “Where is your cousin? The boss is coming for you to work picking up figs.” So we stayed.

Some uncles of mine were jealous of me. I was just joking around and making them upset. In September, we celebrated the Mexican independence. So we went to town near Mercedes. We drank so much until dawn.

We finished the job, and they transferred us to Rio Brisa, to pick up tomato. Then, it was when I returned to Colon, in November of 1961.

The next year, I went to Salinas Valley, near Soledad, to work on strawberries. That year, I left engaged. I was saving money for the wedding. After 45 days, they only selected people for the next round. So I told the supervisor “am I going to stay?”

- “We don’t know. Just work the way you’ve been doing. That way, they’ll fire me first,” he said.

I told him that I was engaged and that I was saving for the wedding. I made it to the next round; so I worked from April until November. People started leaving in September, that’s when my supervisor got fired. He said, “See, what I told last time came true. I didn’t make it to the next round. Have you saved enough for your wedding? If not, we can ask for everyone’s help.”

I wanted to take advantage of my work. I didn’t make it on time to get married in 1961. So, I wrote my future father in law, and told him that the wedding was still on, but I wanted to work. So, I got married in 1962.

I came back in 1963 to Yuma, Arizona. I worked picking up lettuce. I don’t remember how long I stayed there, but I remember it was a lot harder to work there because of the heat. I only worked for about six months, since my oldest daughter would be born that year.

In 1964, the last year I came as a contracted worker, I came to Aguila, Arizona, near Arlen. I also worked there picking up lettuce. I was there for a few months since there was not much work. It rained a lot that year. So I only worked from February until April.

The last year when people got contracted was in 1965. All the time, people quit their jobs because they had family there. One cousin quit his job, but stayed there. He asked me if I wanted to come undocumented. When I said yes, he sent me the information of a smuggler. It was the first time I came like that. I paid $150 dollars, and we arrived to Tijuana.

My cousin stayed with my wife’s other cousin, who was married with a person from the Philippines. They helped him out to get a job. They got him a social security number. It was easier then to get one, since you could go to the post office to request one.

The border patrol has always been tough. The smuggler asked me where I was going, and I said that I had a brother in law there.

The smuggler said, “Everyone, just tell me how much money you have. The one who doesn’t have money, you can tell me. I can also cross him; since I have people you can stay with.” Everyone talked and reached an agreement.

- “I want to get paid with cash. If you don’t want to arrive with family, I have a place for you to stay. You can send money to your family, and you can pay me in parts. When you finish paying, I can take you with your family if you desire,” he said.

The smuggler was a black man who spoke Spanish perfectly. He knew farmers who needed people, so he got them a job.

That time, I was traveling with a cousin. He helped two acquaintances from Nayarit. They had tried to cross before and couldn’t do it. So they came with us, talked to the smuggler and he crossed them with no charge at the moment.

We started our trip. Our first connection was Cacoma, and walked for a half an hour. Then, a truck picked us up. Our connection was a person who lived near the border and was from the military. That day, we were 17 persons crossing. The truck in which we traveled was a horse truck. There was no ventilation in there. While we waited, the guide said, “Everyone lay down. There are a lot of cars and you don’t need to be seen. There’s a lot more danger here.” Our guide was wearing the military uniform and he was standing outside the horse truck. One of the persons didn’t obey him in laying down. So, the guide hit him with his elbow.

The smuggler got back and transferred us to another truck. Then, we arrived to Fresno to a place where we all were picked by the farmers, like if we were animals. The farmers said:

- “I need four”

- “I need three”

- “I need two”

-“ I need one”

They wanted me to go with a farmer, but I didn’t want to. I stayed in Fresno for three months. When the grape season finished, I finished paying the smuggler. Then, he took me with my family. We only stayed there working to finish paying the smuggler. I would have stayed longer, but there was no more work. In addition, the farmers and the border patrol had agreements. Whenever the farmers didn’t have more work for us, they called the border patrol so they could deport their workers.

So before that could happen, the smuggler took me to Arroyo Grande, California, near Santa Maria with my wife’s cousin. My wife’s cousin’s husband got us a job. I stayed there for two months – the winter season. I didn’t get paid well. Besides, the border patrol arrested me. I remember that the border patrol arrived at night. I think someone told them about us. So, they got there around four in the morning. I told my friend from Colon, “I believe it’s the border patrol because of their lighting.” I put my clothes and shoes on, and I heard how they were instructing everyone to block all the exits. Then, we heard, “Open up, it’s the border patrol. You won’t escape.”

One of the officers kicked the door, and the door opened. We ran towards the window, trying to escape. We got detained. I said, “I’d like to bring my clothing that is on the closet.”

- “You have a long time here,” the officer said.

- “No, a little time,” I replied.

- “How come? With all that clothing? You even have a girlfriend,” he replied. He said that because that night, some women had visited us. “When our boss gets here, you tell him that,” he said.

The boss arrived and he asked me, “How many were there Salvador?” - I was called Salvador then.

- “I don’t know. Ten, maybe. I have only three days here,” I said.

- “How come three days? If you have a lot of clothing here!” he exclaimed.

- “Of course, I brought all that clothing from Mexico,” I said.

- “You’re lying,” he said. He showed me a list with everyone’s name. He even talked about me. “Look Salvador, when I had detained one, I saw another one cross. Because I wanted to trap both, the one I had got freed. So, I didn’t trap any,” he laughed. “You had bad luck”.

They didn’t treat us bad; they treated us according how he behaved. That time, they jailed us in Santa Maria. They were hard on us. They finger-printed us that time. I had never done so. From there, they took us to Oxnard. We slept a couple of hours, and once they had filled the place, they took us to Chula Vista, near San Isidro. We slept and the next day, they took us to the center of California. I was there for three days, and then they flew us to El Paso, Texas.

I always had 20 dollars with me. With that money, I could survive in any border. After that, I returned in 1967. I got detained in January 1966. I stayed home all that year and part of 1967. Towards the end of 1967, I came back. There was an exhibition of the Dodgers, but we didn’t have tickets. So, we went to Guadalajara to get them. Then, we went to Mazatlan, but they didn’t have tickets either. We didn’t want to return home, so we traveled to Nogales. There, we arrived with my friend’s family. We applied for the so called “local passport”. Since it takes time to get it, we received a form that allows us to cross, but we decided to wait for the “local passport”.

Once I got back home, I worked. Then, farming season arrived and my brother said, “Why don’t you do your own agriculture?” So, I started on my own, but that year it didn’t rain. My brother in law returned and told me, “Let’s go. It won’t rain here and you’re getting on debt. Let’s pick up your passport.” Six months had passed since we applied for it. We left, and gave my land to my brother. Once I received my passport, I traveled to Santa Ana, and then to San Luis Rio Colorado. We arrived to Tijuana because I wanted to work where my brother in law did, at Arroyo Grande. I needed a permit and money. So I said, “I’m going to work for a week; hopefully in a week you find someone to cross with or someone to get that work permit.”

My cousin, the Philippine’s wife, was in Tijuana and suggested me to go and apply for a permit. She had seen people applying for it, and getting it right away. So, I went and I received it right away. I was just asked the place of destiny, and I said that I was going to Arroyo Grande to vacation. Once in Arroyo Grande, we worked there for a month. My brother in law said that he would go to Sacramento and then to Iowa City. I asked him to wait for me, because I was waiting for my check. However, the border patrol arrived and deported me. My brother in law picked up my checked and sent me the money.

I didn’t return until April of 1971. I worked as a construction worker in Los Angeles. I was staying with my friend Jesus. Since I had helped him before in getting him a passport, he told me to go with him. So, when I cross that time, I went with him.

It took me a month to get a job. I didn’t want to work in agriculture anymore; besides, the border patrol was there all the time. So, while in the city, there was a lot of work as a dishwasher. But, I didn’t want that. A friend of mine was a supervisor in a tortilla factory. He took me with him to work for four to six hours. At least, that was something.

One month later, a neighbor told me that his dad had a restaurant and needed a person there. I started working there with the minimum wage plus food. So, I liked it there.

I started as a janitor, but I learned there the waitresses’ duties. I learned everything. I worked there for a year, and I asked the boss for vacations, so I could visit my family back home. I only went home for a month, and I crossed with my passport. That time, I tried to get a permit in Tijuana, and it was denied. However, they didn’t take my passport. I crossed and was deported. I crossed again, but that time through San Diego, near San Clemente. We arrived to a motel with the smuggler; he would take me to Los Angeles, but somebody called the border patrol. The border patrol arrived and one of the told me, “give me your passport.”

- “I don’t have one,” I reply.

I was thinking on mailing my passport back. I placed it inside my boot. They took us inside the truck and drove us to San Clemente. Once there, they started the investigation and told us to get out everything we had.

They searched us everywhere. Then, one told me to take off my shoes. When I was taking my shoes off, my passport fell to the floor. At that exact moment, the officer who apprehended me told me “See, I knew you had one.”

- “Ok, you’ve found it. Take it away and do your job. But, put yourself in my shoes, wouldn’t you do the same?” I said.

They took us to Chulavista and flew us to Guanajuato, but we paid our trip. Prior to the trip, I was jailed for seven days, because they wanted to fill in the airplane.

The last time I was there, it was from 1972 until 1974. In 1974, my brother in law came with me. We brought my brother Milio and more in-laws. Then, we brought my two daughters who were very young. My cousin crossed them as her children. Then, my two oldest daughters arrived and started middle school and elementary school respectively.

Upon my arrival here, there were people from Colon. I lived in East Los Angeles, then, I moved to my boss’s home.

The first home we lived on was quite small; I paid 58 dollars, and it had no windows. It was just a room. So, when I brought my family, I asked my boss for a bigger house.

- “I don’t have one,” he said, “but you’re a good person. I haven’t had problems with you. I’ll give you a letter of recommendation so you can rent a home. I rented a home in front of the restaurant where I worked. We lived there for four years; I started work at 4pm and finished at midnight. Since I helped out, my boss gave me lettuce, green Chile, meat, chicken; he paid me little, but he was a nice person.

We lived near Milton High for about five years. We applied for documents, and we received the Silva letter. We could now work, but we couldn’t return to Mexico. We lasted 14 years without being able to return. My wife return eleven years later, but undocumented. I left one time, but it was due to a promise when I was very sick. We obtained social security numbers for my two youngest daughters. I couldn’t obtain the numbers for my two oldest, because they were older than 21 and they were married already.

I left my job at the restaurant because I was recommended at a factory. The problem was that as soon I started my job, there was a strike at the factory. I was invited to a meeting with food and beer and I supported, but told us that they didn’t want the supervisors to know about it. I didn’t want it to end in strike because I had just started, but I liked the ideas because that would benefit my family.

We started the strike. We took turns to be at the factory, and made big announcements. I even took my children to be with me. For food, I took two dozens of flour tortillas, and made beans with sausage and salsa and made burritos. Then, I also had a gallon of Kool-Aid for everyone. People were happy with me.

One time, we saw a trailer coming. It was a Saturday with few people outside from the union. The owner took out a trailer and had an accident with another car. We all went there, and we asked where they had parked the trailer. They had already sent someone to help us out. However, when we all got there, people wanted to get upset at me. I told them “We are fighting for a cause, and you’re at your home, and still come here to complain”

We went an look for the trailer. The police asked us what had happen. I said that we were on a strike, and that there was a trailer and I was looking for it. He asked me for my documents, and I showed him my Silva letter. He asked me if those where my friends, and I said that they were my friends from work. Thus, he took us to talk to everyone of the union. At night, the union took me to dinner, and the boss paid so no one would get arrested.

After a month, people’s savings were almost gone with the strike. I told them that this would not be easy. Since people didn’t want to continue with the strike, I also said that we were going to lose, so I was abandoning the cause.

- “No, Antonio. I promised you that I would look for a better job, but stay here.” The boss said. I got a raise, but I also wanted that for my friends. We all wanted to be treated equal.

- “That’s not possible,” he said. “Why are you being like that? Let everyone live their own.”

I’ve lived that all my life. I like all to be treated equal. I don’t like when there are preferences or racism. I don’t agree with that.

We lost the strike. I worked there for a few days and then I got fired. I remember that was when Reagan became president. I got a job cleaning airplanes.

We work with a company who hires us. So, everyone benefits from that. For example, the company tells you, I’ll charge you 8 or 7 dollars per hour; but we get paid 5 or 6. That’s the company’s business. The company’s name first name was Aline, now it’s called Analine.

From all the times I did go to the U.S., I remember that once I swore not to go back if I didn’t get papers. I remember I was crossing near Tecate. There was a lagoon; we took water for our trip, since we would walk for four or five nights. We had canned food and tortillas. We crossed alone because we didn’t want to pay the smuggler. We wanted to save that money – about 200 to 250 dollars. My brother in law knew the way and we went with him. Unfortunately, my feet got swollen for walking all night long. We walked and got water from another lagoon. There, we saw an small airplane flying by. We ran for cover. Then, my brother-in-law asked me, “How are you feeling? We’re going up a mountain, and it’s quite cold. If you fall down, we can die of hypothermia.”

We stayed by the lagoon. It was very cold! We heard a coyote howling. Next morning, we kept moving like robots because we were cold. We had to cross a highway, so there was danger. Once we crossed the highway, we came through the desert. Around 9 or 10am, we ate some breakfast. There were deer around.

We walked all day long. We ate cold tortillas, and after resting for an hour, we kept walking. It was getting dark and I was detaining the group. When we got up, I told them “You know what? I’m quite sick and I’m delaying your way. Go ahead. Just tell me where the closest town is or farm from here. I’ll reach you tomorrow if I can get a raid, but I’m feeling quite sick.” I couldn’t walk and my pants were very tight now. My brother in law said that we were together in all this. So, we were going to walk a bit more in order to sleep, so we could continue the next morning.

We stayed there and rested the next day as well. As dawn approached, we got down the mountain and I was feeling better. We walked all night and then, before the checking point, we stopped to rest. The next morning we reached another stop point where there was water. We saw a bucket, and we used it to shower. We stayed there for the rest of the day. We continued our way at night, when suddenly, it got very windy, like a sand storm. I told my brother in law, “let’s have a smoke and rest.” I was very tired with my feet like that. I laid down on the floor, and when I was stretching, I found a coke. Since we were thirsty, we drank it all. We continued our way all night long and took a rest early in the morning. About 2pm, we had reached Hanes town. We had walked five nights by then. We reached a water pomp, and found an American. We asked for a friend, and told him that I was sick and hadn’t had a meal in about three days. This American guy, called the friend we were looking for, and he probably exaggerated, because the friend arrived very quick for us.

We bought milk and cookies, and asked them to stop for some beers. I had 50 dollars with me. I always liked to have money with me in case I got deported. We bought a six-pack for the American guy. We returned to the place where we were found and went up a tree, to avoid the border patrol. We drank the milk, cookies, and the beer. Then, we went inside a home, and two persons offered us some food. “Don’t worry, we already passed through this,” one said. The other person didn’t like us much.

My brother in law got a job with them, and stayed with them for three days. We ate beans, flower, and potatoes. My brother in law could eat about 15 flour tortillas in one meal. From there, my brother in law called another person to pick us up. If this guy didn’t pick us up, we would have to walk one more night all the way to Hanes town. I told my brother in law to wait for them. The truth is that I was doing well. My legs were not good, even though, I was treating them with water and garlic. Finally, some guys picked us up, and charged us $25 dollars each to take us to Los Angeles. They fed us, and when we were getting closer, the car started to have problem.

- “Oh my, hopefully they will not return us.”

Where I had been before, they dropped us. In 1974, my father-in-law’ brother, who lives in the mountain, asked me if I wanted to go with them. There were jobs in constructions available. I went with an acquaintance. I also called my wife’s uncle to see if he could get me a job with horses.

- “If you want, I’ll go,” I said.

- “No, the boss is a Jew and he will give you anything: four to five dollars and he will make you work all day long,” he said.

- “It doesn’t matter; I want to work,” I said.

I did go and I was cleaning up the entire farm all they long. I thought he would give me at least $15 dollars; but he only gave me $7 because he didn’t have change.

- "How much did you get paid," I was asked. “It’s not worth it; I told you he was a Jew.”

- “That’s serves me well,” I said.

The following morning, I did go to work in construction. I got paid $20 dollars and got fed as well. I worked for a month. I told the boss’s daughter to ask his father for a job for me.

A strike started the day I started working with my boss. I was afraid of the strike because I one gets in trouble. Also, one may get reported to the border patrol. I had just arrived and I didn’t have anything. So, when they called me to work, I came right away and started working at a restaurant. I lasted there for four years, and during that time, I didn’t go to Colon at all.

When I started my job at the restaurant, my wife’s aunt told me, “Bring your family along, because every time you get money you go and spend it. It’s a never ending story. It’s better to bring them.”

I sent money to my wife so she could fix her teeth. She was almost to the point of giving birth. “Get your teeth fixed and come here,” I told her. She did so, and arrived in 1974.

A friend’s in-law would cross her; I liked him because I knew about him. At the border, there’s always problem with women crossing. So, I sent money to my wife, and she came alone and pregnant. In that same trip, my in-law’s wife came as well without telling him anything. She took advantage of the trip. In San Clemente, the border patrol was checking car by car. They got stopped and when the border patrol asked them who was bringing them, they said they just had gotten a ride. They got detained and were in San Diego for 14 days. In the same car, there was a guy who got nervous and said that he had paid the driver. Since my wife didn’t say the truth, that’s why they were taken to San Diego. They got deported and confiscated everything they had – my address and home phone number included.

At the bus station, they were by the phone trying to call me, but couldn’t remember the number. A lady asked them if they wanted to cross. They told her everything.

- “I’ll take you, don’t worry,” she said.

- “But, we don’t even remember the address or the phone number,” my wife said.

- “What’s the street name,” the lady asked.

- “Oregon,” they replied. “It’s a small street, like a block long and not well known.”

I talked to my daughters asking for their mom. I called the border patrol and they told me that my wife was due in court. I was very frustrated.

- “Where is my mom? Is she there yet?” My daughter asked.

- “Almost. It’s quite difficult to arrive,” I replied to her.

- “When is she going to get there?” she asked.

- “Sometime soon” I said.

I told them that so they didn’t worry. Then, it was like a miracle. The lady crossed them with no address or phone number. She found the street and then, they my in-law saw her husband who lived with me.

During those days, the buses were also on strike. I had to walk for about two miles to get to work. Then, upon my arrival to the house, one of the guys told me, “you know what? There’s hope. I have news about your people.” I got happy but anxious at the same time.

- “What happen?” I asked.

- “They are coming,” he replied.

- “What do you mean?” I asked.

My wife was already in the house, and my friend was just playing with me. “Come with me, I have something for you,” he said.

He took me to the room where my wife and my in-law were. I was so happy then. I took her to the store to buy her clothing and everything she needed. Then, we call home so my daughter didn’t worry. I took my wife to the clinic and didn’t want to give her a checkup. Afterwards, she did have a check up and supposedly everything was normal. However, the baby was born dead; he was the first boy after seven girls.

Here in U.S., there’s about everything. I think a lot of people were not told about the sacrifices one has to do while being here. Those are the ones that are against the Mexican. They only think that we are invading and that we are taking their jobs away. For example, there is some nice African-American, who understands our troubles. For example, this son of mine will know everything I had to pass through when he grows up. It doesn’t matter that he’s been born here; I’ll explain everything so he can help our people. Some say that Chicanos are the worse against the Mexicans.

I think there is more racism within the Americans. They don’t mind you because you’re not using the benefits. They will always be above; that’s my thinking. Also, I think the Cubans believe to be better than all the other Latinos. I think all the other Latinos believe to be superior to the Mexicans.

When my baby boy was born dead, I pay everything in cash: $4,000 dollars. When I finished paying off, I requested a letter saying that I didn’t owe the government anything. The reason being is that a lot of people think that we’re a trouble for the U.S., and I don’t want to be any. I remember when I requested the letter, the person in charge got a bit upset. There are a lot of people that don’t pay back what the county has paid for them. That’s wrong, because in Mexico, if you have money you get health care, and if not, you die. I agree with that idea.

I know the government gives a lot of support to the children. I don’t agree with that, because if one wants to educate their children with their customs, they don’t want or complain. Then, the police comes and one undergoes investigation. I believe that my children’s education should be my own problem. I don’t complain with my own, because they’re the same as I was. For example, in Mexico, when one is young, one learns to work. Many take that wrong, but I believe it’s a benefit because one learns about life. For example, if I die, I know the government will support my baby, but nothing is for free. When he grows up, he will have to pay back. In Mexico, the limitations make people more responsible. For example, if you’re studying, you look for a job during the vacation period. Here, you can’t do that if the school doesn’t give you a permit. In Mexico, they start preparing since their early childhood. In case their parent’s marriage ends, or there is an accident, they are ready for anything life brings them; here, they are not ready for anything.

I’m 50 years old now. I hope to get my pension at 62, and then, I’m planning to retire to Mexico, to work in something. I don’t want to depend on the wage alone, because it’s not good. In Mexico, the salary is not much; at least here in the U.S., wage is comparable with food.

There is also freedom, but it depends. There are people who like to have the stereo with a high volume. Here, they call the police. Also, I cannot have a drink on the street, because they also call the police. Sometimes, you want to have a party, and when you request a permit, you only get it until 10pm or 11pm. If you go over that time limit, they get upset at you. In a way, that’s good because if you want to sleep or are ill, you don’t want to have the people yelling outside. I agree with that because in Mexico, people are used to doing so, but they can’t do it here.