“Are you going to live on a ranch? Did you know people get around on horses there? Next time you visit you’ll say things like, ‘Howdy’ and ‘Y’all,’” were a few remarks I received from my friends after telling them I would be moving to Texas in less than a month.
I had just started high school in Arizona, which meant that I would have to repeat the transition process all over again. I spent the next couple of weeks educating myself on as much Texas knowledge I could google.
All I was able to gather was that all of George Strait’s exes lived in Texas, they had these famous gas stations called “Buc-ee’s” and everything was bigger there (for some odd reason, I have yet to find out).
Towns I drove by on my way here kept straying farther and farther from the picture I had engraved in my mind. The Rio Grande Valley was nothing like how “Texas” is portrayed on television or what my Arizonian family and friends thought.
The Valley was like the small town I grew up in, but 40 times bigger in size, and has hundreds of things to do and see. So, I guess it wasn’t like Nogales, Arizona, at all. The only thing they had in common was that they are both Mexican-American border cities.
Valley weather is a mixture of warmth and humidity; all cities are lined with beautiful palm trees and the beach is only an hour away. The Valley is dominated by the Mexican culture and embraces people of all ethnicities and beliefs.
People love to help others but are quick to cut you off on the expressway. Many people who have resided here their entire life are first to look over what the Valley has to offer. Coming from a town that had one movie theater, a bowling alley, a couple of baseball fields and a Walmart, moving down here was eye opening.
Suddenly, I lived less than a mile away from H-E-B, I could choose between three movie theaters near me, go ice skating if I wanted or walk around the McAllen Convention Center with friends.
Although I was constantly exposed to the Hispanic culture in Arizona, the RGV feels like a little piece of Mexico found in the United States. I was not expecting so many residents to speak Spanish and for the streets to be speckled with hundreds of taco stands or snack shops. Everywhere I turned, I found something that felt a little bit like home back in Arizona.
I was terrified of change and feeling out of place before moving. However, I understand why my parents decided it was in my and my younger brother’s best interest to relocate. I was lucky enough to pursue what interests me, attend the best schools and build friendships with new people.
The Rio Grande Valley is now home.
