Brandon Stanton's Blog, page 79

“Usually people only keep the job for one year. Either it’s a...

“Usually people only keep the job for one year.  Either it’s a calling or you quit.  The pay is not good.  Less than $1000 a month.  And it’s very physical.  I’m supposed to dress, shower, and feed twelve seniors in 2.5 hours.  The schedule is so tight because it’s a business.  It can seem like the residents are boxes to be moved around.  But they’re not boxes.  They’re people.  I don’t think their families think about them.  They put them in a home and assume they’re safe, and well fed, and taken care of.  But they’re all sad. They’re numb.  Every day is the same thing.  When I first started working there, they wouldn’t really cooperate.  They just let me grab them without any participation.  But I’d always talk to them.  Ask them questions.  Joke with them.  Then one morning I had a fight at home, and was in a bad mood, so I worked in silence.  And all the seniors who had been so quiet,  began to ask me what was wrong.  That’s when I first realized how much they valued the attention I was giving them.  It’s been fifteen years now.  I have a lot of friends there.  But I’m forty-three already.  Recently I had surgery.  I’m not sure how many more years I’ll be able to do it.  But I try not to think about what will happen when I leave.”
(Madrid, Spain)

“My mother was getting old and couldn’t work anymore. We never...

“My mother was getting old and couldn’t work anymore.  We never knew where our next meal was coming from.  I had a job cleaning houses, but the pay was horrible.  So when I was given the opportunity to come to Spain, I knew I had to take it.  But the day that I left was horrible.  I’d never been outside of Ecuador.  I’d never been apart from my mother.  Both of us were crying like children at the airport.  I had no idea what I’d find when I arrived.  My plan was to make a little money, come home, and start a business, maybe a food stand.  Just a little something to make our lives easier.  Soon after arriving in Spain, I found work cooking and cleaning at a summer camp.  It was in the mountains.  It was very isolated.  But they were kind to me.  They gave me extra jobs and allowed me to stay during the offseason.  It was very lonely, but I spoke to my mother every day.  And I was able to send home almost all the money I made.  After seven years I received my residency papers, and I was finally able to go home for a visit.  I’d wanted to surprise my mom, but she has high blood pressure, so I told her I was coming.  She was standing in the doorway when I arrived.  She held me for the longest time.  Everything had changed.  The house had been empty when I left.  Now there was furniture: chairs, sofas, two beds instead of one.  A new stove.  A fridge full of food.  A television, not even one with knobs.  It had a real remote.  We stayed up all night talking.  I told her all about Spain.  Eventually I was able to bring her here.  We live together now.  I see her every day.  And I’m working as a home health aide.  So if anything happens, I can take care of her.”
(Barcelona, Spain)

“We were just trying to survive. Sometimes I’d wait in line six...

“We were just trying to survive.  Sometimes I’d wait in line six hours just to buy a piece of bread.  Our son is only eleven, and we didn’t want him to realize that we didn’t have any food,  so my wife and I didn’t eat.  I lost forty-five pounds.  But I still stayed in Venezuela as long as possible.  I didn’t want to break up our family.  Then one morning I was walking my son to school, and we saw a dead man in the street.  He’d been shot.  A crowd had gathered.  And that’s when I decided to leave.  I explained to my son that I’d be home soon.  Then I crossed the border into Colombia and took a flight to Spain.  I’ve been here for a year now.  I live in a flat with four other refugees.  I’m making enough as a bike messenger to send home $100 every two weeks.  It’s enough to buy them food and medicine and anything else they need.  My son always asks when I’ll be home, and I just keep saying ‘soon.’  And even though I’m lonely, I’m much calmer now.  Because at least I know they’re eating.  The plan has always been to bring them here, but the problem is passports.  The government has stopped giving passports.  We applied five months ago but nothing happened.  So three weeks ago I gave $600 to a man in government.  He promised to help.  I’ve been checking the application status every day, but still nothing.  I don’t know what’s happening.  I thought it would be done by now.”          
(Madrid, Spain)

“The pauses are the worst. Whenever I’m talking to someone, and...

“The pauses are the worst.  Whenever I’m talking to someone, and I don’t know what to say next, and there’s a pause, that’s when I start looking at the floor.  Then the nervous laughter comes in.  And I can’t recover.  It’s always been difficult for me.  Even as a child.  Whenever my mom asked me to say ‘hello’ to adults, I’d just look at my feet and mumble under my breath.  It comes so naturally to other people.  They express themselves so easily.  They’re so happy, maybe not always happy, but light, and carefree.  I try.  But it feels like I’m trying to be another person.  And I get uncomfortable.  And the cycle repeats.  I always imagine that people would prefer if I wasn’t around.  I never went to the disco when I was young.  I’ve never had a romantic relationship.  I haven’t even kissed a girl.  I do have parents that care about me, and they make sure I know.  So I’m thankful for that.  But I’d like something more.  I want to be a dad one day.  I’d like to have a career.  I’d like to have a family.  But if I can’t learn how to talk with people, I’m afraid that none of those things will happen.”
(Barcelona, Spain)

“We were middle class in Argentina. I always thought we had...

“We were middle class in Argentina.  I always thought we had enough.  But everyone else felt like they needed to escape.  They wanted to travel, and have nice homes, and change their cars often.  I was the youngest.  I’d always believed that we were a family who cared for each other.  But apparently some things were more important than being together.  My brothers left for America.  My parents moved to Europe.   Soon I was the only one left.  I felt abandoned by everyone.  I began to subconsciously make mistakes just to see if anyone cared.  I stopped going to class.  I isolated myself.  I started doing drugs.  I’d never even had a drink before, so I wasn’t prepared for that world.  I began to have paranoid thoughts.  I thought that everyone wanted to harm me.  I thought people wanted me to kill myself. In the moment of my biggest crisis, I came to believe that I was Jesus.  I called my family on the phone and started saying wild things.  My father immediately bought a plane ticket and flew all night to see me.  It was New Year’s Eve.  When he arrived, he hugged me.  I hadn’t slept for a long time.  I was so tired.  I asked him if we could sleep in the same bed.  I was twenty-six years old, but he held me while I fell asleep.  He told me: ‘Finally, I’ve gotten my baby back.’”
(Barcelona, Spain)

“She’s like a second chance for me. I was widowed very young....

“She’s like a second chance for me.  I was widowed very young.  My husband died in a car crash.  Our daughter was only six at the time, and I barely got to see her because I was always working.  She was mainly raised by my mother.  I remember on the weekends she always wanted to go to the cinema, but I’d suggest other activities because it was our only chance to talk.  But things are different with my granddaughter.  I have all the time in the world.  I can focus on her completely.  She lives in another town, but she visits once a week and we spend the whole day together.  I look forward to it all week.  I prepare her favorite foods, mostly cheeseburgers because she loves cheeseburgers.  We go on walks.  And we sit in the park.  And we paint a lot.  And we read books.  This morning we played hide-and-seek in the apartment.  Her head was always sticking out, but I pretended not to notice.”
(Barcelona, Spain)

“We really tried to avoid it. We tried. He was my boss. We...

“We really tried to avoid it.  We tried.  He was my boss.  We worked at an important law firm with very serious people.  Things like this were forbidden.  But it was a high pressure environment and we worked long hours together.  There were a lot of conversations.  A lot of meals.  And eventually we became very good friends.  One weekend he came with me to visit my hometown in Galicia.  It’s a small fisherman village.  My entire family lives there.  And that’s where my sister laid a trap.  She knew the situation.  I didn’t even tell her, but she sensed it.  She pulled Javier aside and told him: ‘Take a step, man.  Barbara is waiting on this.’  That night we were walking back from dinner.  It was foggy and rainy.  We stopped in the middle of the street, and he kissed me.  I said: ‘Oh God, Barbara.  You have a problem.’  I was twenty-six.  I was supposed to be jumping from daisy to daisy.  It wasn’t time to fall in love.  Especially not with my boss.  We spent the night together, and the following morning we went to a family meal in the countryside.  Everyone was there: my aunts, uncles, everyone.  Thirty-five people at a long stone table.  And the moment we walked in, all of them started clapping.”
(Barcelona, Spain)

“My mother fell in love with another guy, and my father took it...

“My mother fell in love with another guy, and my father took it out on me.  He’d make fun of my appearance, my weight, my clothes.  He’d call me a ‘whore.’  A ‘crazy girl.’  It all started when I was eleven.  It really wore me down.  I had no self-confidence.  I just wanted to stay in my bedroom and draw in my notebook all the time.  It was my way of avoiding him.  School wasn’t much better.  I didn’t have friends.  I knew some people, but nobody well enough that they’d call me at friend.  People laughed at me.  For being apart.  For wearing black clothes.  For dying my hair.  Whenever I saw a group of kids, I’d just walk in the other direction.  Things got really dark for awhile.  My art got dark.  I couldn’t get out of bed.  But things have been better since I’ve gotten to college.  Nobody knows me here.  It feels like everything is new.  And I’m trying to change.  I’m trying to be more open.  I’m trying to talk to people more.  Little by little, I’m becoming a different person.  It took me a long time to realize, but I think that maybe I don’t have the same problems I had in the past.  Because two years ago I couldn’t even look people in the eye.  I definitely wouldn’t have been able to do this interview.”
(Madrid, Spain)

“Everyone tried to talk me out of it. They all said: ‘You’ve...

“Everyone tried to talk me out of it.  They all said: ‘You’ve been together for such a long time.  You have a beautiful life together.  You have a beautiful business.  You should value the things you have.’  But he lied to me.  And whenever I looked at him, all I saw was lies.  I just couldn’t stay married.  But we were bound by so many things.  Our families were close.  We had the same friends.  We went to all the same places.  If I stayed in Havana, we were going to see each other over and over.  I just needed to break away.  So I made the decision to leave.  I almost didn’t get on the plane because I was so scared of starting over.  But when I finally landed in Spain, I said to myself: ‘That’s it.  It’s done.’  The first weeks were easy because I’d been so eager for a fresh start.  But then it all set in.  I was all alone here.  We’d been together since I was seventeen.  For my entire life I had someone supporting me.  Someone I could trust.  And now I had no one.  It felt like I didn’t belong in Spain, but it felt like I didn’t belong in Cuba either.  It’s been two years now.  It’s been a lot of work, but I’m finally in a good place.  I have a new job.  I have new friends.  I’m starting to have a feeling of ‘home.’  It’s still difficult being away from my family, but I think I made the right decision.  These last two years I’ve gone through everything on my own: the happy moments, the sad moments, the painful moments.  And I’m feeling fine.  I’ve learned that I can face life by myself.”  
(Madrid, Spain)

“We were in the same friend group at university. He was so shy...

“We were in the same friend group at university.  He was so shy that I thought he was gay.  When he drove me home after our first date, I invited him up to my apartment for a drink.  He told me he wasn’t thirsty.”  
(Barcelona, Spain)