In 1986, my mother asked me to go to my Uncle’s house to borrow some rice. I didn’t expect him to give us ten whole kilos. But when my mother emptied it out, she suddenly covered her face and began to cry inconsolably… The reason behind it left me frozen, and it is something I will never forget for the rest of my life.
In 1986, I had just turned twelve. We lived in a struggling neighborhood on the outskirts of San Antonio, Texas, where money was always tight and every meal felt like it had to stretch a little further than it should. Most nights, dinner was just rice mixed with beans—or sometimes cornbread with a thin homemade soup…
