Nostalgia and reality collide in Mexico

Bobby Salcedo grew up in El Monte, his immigrant parents staking the family’s future in the working-class suburb that felt worlds away from the Mexican farming towns of their roots.

But like so many Mexican Americans, some of Salcedo’s fondest memories were from the winter and summer vacations when his family would pack into the van and drive 1,300 miles south to the lands of their ancestors in Jalisco.

The pace of life slowed there, with children hanging out in town plazas late into the night and young men handing flowers to pretty girls as they strolled in opposing circles. For many young Mexican Americans, that small-town life seemed a panacea compared to the urban stresses of Los Angeles, and to being cooped up at home, playing video games and watching TV.

The connection to Mexico stayed with Salcedo through the years as he became an assistant principal and El Monte school board member. He continued to visit family in Mexico, and did charity work for South El Monte’s sister city, Gomez Palacio in Durango state. He met his future wife there.

The 33-year-old Salcedo and his wife returned to her hometown this Christmas to visit family and friends. A few days later, they were at a bar when masked gunmen, suspected members of a drug cartel, burst in and kidnapped Salcedo and five other men. They were shot to death execution-style and dumped near a canal.

The case made headlines as an example of Mexico’s out-of-control drug war and prompted mourning in El Monte, where Salcedo was a popular educator and a rising community leader.

But for many Mexican Americans who are deeply rooted to the land of their parents, the killing also underscored the complex relationship they have with Mexico and provoked feelings of anger, disappointment and betrayal.

“Mexico is going through very fast change, so you kind of have in mind all these different images and ideas,” said Francisco Balderrama, a professor of history and Chicano studies at Cal State L.A. “A lot of them have passed on into a type of nostalgia.”

Balderrama said his youthful memories of Mexico are different from his son’s.

Like his son, the professor studied in Mexico as a young man. But his son also volunteered for the Peace Corps in the state of Queretaro. His son experienced the difficulties of getting things done in Mexico, a frustration Balderrama never had to experience. His son also has a more updated perspective on some of the country’s dangers.

When Balderrama proposed that his son take a bus to meet him in another state of Mexico, his son said that could be unsafe.

The Salcedo case is a reminder of the new realities, the latest bang in a steady drumbeat of violence that has steadily chipped away at romantic notions that many Mexican Americans had.

“We see what we want to see down there,” said Salcedo’s brother Juan, 35. “We’re not down there, living the daily life of the average Mexican. We’re living an American life in a Third World country. Our dollar goes further. We’re able to enjoy things that many people there are not able to enjoy.”

Childlike nostalgia

Juan Salcedo said he remembers getting into the gray station wagon, later upgraded to a “big ole” white van, at least once a year. They would bring various things people had requested: paper towels, bags of sugar or flour. Their mother Graciela’s town was Tototlan, their father’s Atotonilco, both near Guadalajara. They would hop around, visiting family and being fed or taking trips to Lake Chapala or a little water park.

As the Salcedo children got older, the trips became less frequent but they never stopped. Two years ago they went to the wedding of their cousin Eddie Macias, who used to tease Bobby and his siblings about their Spanish.

Bobby was “very proud of his Mexican origins, but very proud of being an American,” said Macias, 36. “They got to know many other parts of Mexico, not just from a family point of view, but as part of their culture.”

Macias said many Mexicans have negative or stereotypical views of Mexican Americans, saying they just work in the U.S. but don’t amount to much.

“On occasion, unconsciously at times, I’d defend them,” Macias said of his five Salcedo cousins, all of whom graduated from college. “I’m very proud of my family in the U.S. I would say, ‘On the contrary, I have family in California, and they contribute to their community. They are examples of how to live for the rest of us. Here and there.’ ”

American dream

Bobby Salcedo became a teacher in South El Monte and president of the town’s sister-city program, which includes Gomez Palacio. He met Betzy Lazos there and married her two years ago.

He helped raise money for orphanages and firefighters and other causes in Gomez Palacio. The violence in Mexico always seemed distant to the Salcedo family.

“I was a nonbeliever,” Juan said.

And yet there he was, walking into the back of a “dingy” room in the Gomez Palacio morgue. He said he felt as if the authorities were hiding his brother’s body in fear of the cartels. They wanted to quickly cremate the body, he said.

Juan Salcedo had traveled to the city of 240,000 with his mother, who wanted to see her son. But after seeing his brother, Juan said he would let her come into the room only if Bobby’s face was covered.

“That first day, I just let her hold his hand,” he said.

Fear of the cartels also made it difficult to find a mortuary willing to take care of his brother’s body, he said.

As the casket arrived in the cargo hold of a Mexicana commercial jet, about 5,000 people celebrated Salcedo’s life at Mountain View High School in El Monte, where he had been the student body president.

Juan Salcedo said he no longer has a reason to go back to Mexico. He doesn’t think he ever will. He doesn’t think his parents will either.

There are 31 states in Mexico, and few have endured the spasms of violence seen in places like Durango. But Carlos Salcedo shares his brother’s sentiment: “Until the times change, I’ll be sad, but I’m not going to go there.”

Still, it’s not hard to conjure the memories that made it such a special place for Bobby, and for himself.

“It’s a beautiful land,” Carlos Salcedo said. “I still love it. I can’t deny that. I have family there. I can’t renounce my family. It’s just an unfortunate situation to the ultimate extent.”

A community torn

The ripples of Salcedo’s death have touched other Mexican American families as well.

Hector Delgado, a South El Monte councilman whose parents also emigrated from the Mexican state of Jalisco, said he was aware of the tales of carnage in Mexico. But it was only after Salcedo was killed that he felt betrayed. For the first time, his parents’ country loomed as truly foreign.

“I always loved the fact that my parents taught us to value our roots. I am an American of Mexican descent, and I’m very proud of that,” he said. “But this really left a bitter taste in my mouth. It’s completely changed my view of Mexico, to be honest. I’m actually ashamed of Mexico right now.”

Jorge Andres Herrera, 28, is one of five Mexican American siblings who graduated from or are studying at UCLA. They formed a norteño music group called the Hermanos Herrera and have won awards in Mexico. Herrera said Salcedo’s killing left him feeling sad and disappointed. “He died in Durango, the state of my dad.”

Like many Mexican Americans, Herrera began going to Mexico when he was very young. He said fitting in there wasn’t easy. Even dressed as a norteño or ranchera singer, the moment he spoke, he would reveal himself as being from north of the border.

“Everything changes when I’m singing. I consider my singing 100% Mexican Spanish,” he said. “I don’t feel they really see me as different when I’m singing.”

But as the violence continued to escalate in Mexico, the band made careful decisions about where they would play and which places they would avoid. They decided that many of the northern states, the ones that gave birth to the genre of music the group specializes in, were simply too dangerous.

“I understand why people say they’re not going to ever go back,” he said. “But I don’t agree with people saying they give up on Mexico. You should care about the place of your parents, and try to better that place. There’s not just bad things going on in Mexico. I won’t give up on it.”

hector.becerra@latimes.com