Every summer break my mom would send me to her birth country. She wanted me to experience her childhood. She felt that kids in the United States didn’t get to be kids anymore because of the technology. She was right. During the summer, kids nowadays just want to be on their phones and video game consoles.
This was not the first time I’ve been to El Salvador, it was probably my third or fourth by now. I was twelve years old and I loved getting away. Everyone in my moms village knew I would be there during the summer. The village was so small that everyone knew each other. Everyone was kind to each other and very religious.
The word would spread that I had arrived. The people in this village where very poor but they were humble. Every person that would come and visit us would bring a gift. Some would bring cheese and others would bring live stocking.
My “Abueli” whom was my grandma was known to always bring things to give away. My grandma would bring boxes of old clothes and shoes to give away to the people in her village. Everyone loved her for bringing something from the United States.
Every Sunday, the whole village would attend mass. It was beautiful to see how everyone was so united. The church would get so packed that if we wouldn’t get there on time, we would have to be standing during the mass. We would always get there half hour before just to get a seat.
After mass, we would all gather in the plaza and enjoy a cold soda in a plastic bag with a straw and a bag of chips. This was the treat my “Abueli” would give me if I was good during mass.
Later that day, my grandma’s brother brought a horse to the house. He knew I loved horses. I asked if could go for a ride and my grandma agreed. I was the only one on the horse and a bunch of others kids tagged along. We went into this dirt trail into the woods.
I was loving my horse ride. My grandma’s brother of course was holding him the whole time, but I didn’t care. It was a very hot day and we went under this huge tree that had enough shade for all us to enjoy.
I’m still on my horse. I’m caressing the horse and hugging him. I’m enjoying this moment. I can feel the horse’s heart beat. While I enjoy my horse, I see one of the kids trying to get a mango. The kid is throwing some rocks to hit a mango to fall off.
All of a sudden, I feel something hit my head. I begin to scream and I can hear bees next to my ears. I start waiving my hands around me and I hear more bees. I’m still on the horse and I can’t get these bees away from me. I continue to scream while on the horse. I can hear the bees buzzing around my head. I can’t remember what happened next. I think I passed out due to bee stings.
I recall being home and my grandma taking care of me. I had so many bee stings on top of head. I remember not being able to comb my hair due to my scalp being sensitive. Next time, I go horseback riding I’m definitely not getting under a tree. This was an experience that I will never forget, I’m sure kids nowadays don’t have stories like this to share.