Immigrants Remain Loyal to Town They Left

Viva Pegueros!” the mariachi bandleader hollered before launching into a classic ranchera tune, getting the black-tie banquet at a Los Angeles International Airport hotel off to an upbeat start.

It was an appropriate beginning to the evening. After all, in one way or another, each of the 400 or so guests shared a personal tie to Pegueros, a dusty little town in the Mexican state of Jalisco.

The event was the 15th annual banquet for Club Pegueros, a Santa Monica-based nonprofit group that is devoted to raising funds for the town’s clinic and schoolchildren.

There are many such groups throughout Southern California, with such names as Club San Pedro and Club Japala. They are started for the most part by Mexican immigrants who have settled in the United States but want to maintain their ties to the hometown they left behind.

In addition to Pegueros natives, the guests at the banquet included their American-born children, who have developed their own ties to the town through visits or stories they have heard from relatives.

I fall into this category.

*

My parents, both of whom were born in Pegueros, have dragged me to a few of the club’s picnics or banquets, where I would smile politely and wonder if it is a breach of etiquette to skip out right after dessert.

This year, however, my parents couldn’t make the banquet, and I, with my wife, was delegated to represent the family--an awkward position for me. But the other guests quickly took me in and made me feel at ease by telling me how they knew my father or my grandfather back in Pegueros.

One of the first things that struck me that evening was that the banquet program was filled with photos of my Pegueros forefathers, half of whom were named Martin. For years, friends have kiddingly accused me of Americanizing my name by changing it from Martinez. I now had generations of Pegueros natives to prove them wrong.

As I made my way around the room, some guests expressed astonishment that I had not visited the town in more than 10 years. Many had gone back within the last year.

But mostly, the guests tried to explain why this little town with a population of no more than 6,000 holds such a big place in their hearts.

In one corner of the banquet hall I ran into Alfredo Martin, a retired tractor driver who was born in Pegueros and was talking about someday retiring there.

“It is the most beautiful town in the world,” he said.

Over by the bar, Ruben Barba, another Pegueros native, was nursing a drink and telling a group of friends that he had just returned from a visit to Pegueros only five months earlier.

When he reminisces about the town, he thinks about his family, friends and even the games of marbles he once played as a kid on the streets.

“To return to Pegueros is to be reborn,” Barba said with a grin.

It’s the warmth of the people that makes Pegueros special, said Alfonzo Gutierrez, the past president of the club.

“The people are more open,” he said. “You can talk to anyone on the street.”

What I remember from my last visit is a little town off of a two-lane road outside the city of Tepatitlan. I remember a church with two bell towers, cobblestone streets and the lingering smell of diesel in the air. Many homes had no indoor plumbing, and so kids were sent with pails to fetch water from a faucet on the street corner.

But I also remember the festive Sunday serenatas, celebrations in the town square. A band would play while young men dressed in their Sunday best circled the square in one direction and the young women circled in the other, exchanging candy or flowers as they passed.

Although the serenatas continue, much else has changed since my last visit. According to the guests at the banquet, the cobblestone streets have been paved, a new church has been built, and most homes have hot and cold running water. A huge chicken ranch was also established nearby, becoming one of the town’s biggest employers. The town has its own ambulance, thanks to the American club.

Considering the improvements in Pegueros and the increasingly hostile attitude toward immigrants in the United States, I asked several guests why they do not return now.

“We don’t return because we are not dumb,” said Alfonzo Gutierrez. “We are still better off here.”

*

Most guests at the banquet have children in schools, well-paying jobs and an investment in the future of the United States. Gutierrez’s daughter, Griselda, is a law student and has recently taken over as president of Club Pegueros.

My own parents have recently become naturalized citizens. In addition to discussing the latest news from Pegueros, their dinner table conversation now includes debating whether to vote for Dole or Clinton.

For most immigrants, coming to America was either an act of desperation or of optimism--or both. Although many of the Pegueros natives talk about going back, they know it would mean uprooting a life and family that took a bold leap of faith to begin.

In their voices, I could hear that emotional tug of war they live with.

The highlight of this evening was the crowning of a queen of the banquet. That honor went to Edith Padilla, a 15-year-old high school student from Lynwood who hopes to study psychology in college some day. Her parents were born in Pegueros, and she had visited the town last year.

She set aside time from her studies to organize barbecues, dances and other events to raise $12,000 for the club in the past year. In all, she and other teens vying for the crown had raised about $21,000.

“I just wanted to help Pegueros,” she said. “Everything about the town is special.”