CHILDHOOD: Transitioning to a New Country

By: Maria Cruz Flores

Just before Christmas of 1959, my mother unexpectedly announced we were moving back to the states (United States). I was excited to say the least because of the new adventure. As a child, I was always enthralled by those adventures of playing in the nearby jungle, adjacent to our house. The adventure entailed my sisters and I traipsing through the foliage, as we were on a safari, seeking those elusive animals. Now we would go on a bigger adventure to a new country altogether.

Leaving Guam:

Unlike us children, my mother did not view living in Guam as an adventure. Maybe prior to living in Guam, she may have viewed moving to Guam as an idealist life. A life depicted in the forties and fifties as carefree, but was different from the reality she experienced. Rather than the beach atmosphere of swaying palm trees, it was frayed by the solitary reality of living in the jungle with inaccessible water and electricity. After four years of experiencing loneliness, missing her family with a lack of a support system and financial hardships, she yearned to return to her family. Her family also missed her and provided financial aid for the family to return to California.

In preparing for the move, I experienced heightened excitement and viewed the move as another great adventure. Mother told us as we gathered our belongings we would be traveling by plane. I had never seen a plane, much less traveled in one. Before leaving, my Godmother visited us and gave me a gift of a large package of Wrigley-Spearmint Gum. Mother appeared disappointed by the gift and lack of thoughtfulness because as she stated, my Godmother had the means to provide a somewhat more tangible and meaningful keepsake. As you can surmise, my mother was vocal about her thoughts, but also her actions when it came to the family.

Arrival in California:

When we finally arrived at the airport, the plane appeared gigantic to this dwarf sized child. The stewardesses, referred today as flight attendants, greeted us upon our arrival at the stairway leading up to the airplane. I remember large red initials of PSA for Pacific Southwest Airline printed on the side and tail of the airplane. The stairs leading up to the airplane were high and difficult to climb. When we entered the cabin, the Stewardesses ceremoniously pinned a small broach signifying the airplane we were traveling on, onto our apparel. I remember feeling like one of the crew members with a sense of importance, as we were lead to our seats. Needless to say I could not contain my excitement, wiggling up and down on my seat, with difficulty sitting for a long period of time.

Back then our flight took approximately three days and has decreased significantly today to less than one day (12 hours and 42 minutes). The flight appeared “never ending,” with an eight hour “layover” in Hawaii. As we disembarked the plane, most of the flight crew nearby wore beautiful white- flowered leis, which were given to other passengers traveling directly to Hawaii.

During our flight, I enjoyed sitting next to window, viewing the clouds adjacent to the plane. My mother sat next to us and at one point appeared perturbed, with an anxious expression on her face. On the wing outside our window, we viewed a streaming white smoke with a red glow emanating on the top and later the underside of the wing. At the time I experienced a sense of excitement, as I viewed the streaming smoke and later learned the smoke from the wing was a fire that had erupted. To this day, I don’t know if our layover in Hawaii was a normal flight procedure of a layover or due to repairs caused by the fire.

Moving to Los Angeles:

When we finally landed @ Los Angeles International Airport in 1958, the weather was cold in comparison to Guam’s hot and humid weather. My mother’s family awaited us, with much joy and hugging and tearfulness. My Uncle Florencio (maternal uncle through marriage to my Auntie “Margie”) drove us in his brown 1940’s car to our destination. I remember looking out a small-back window, with a limited view of the scenery on the side and front of the car. What I saw from above the backside of the window was a variety of advertisements on billboards. I was not used to all the varying scenes we passed, having grown up in a nondescript jungle like forest in Guam, In passing those scenes, I experienced feeling overstimulated, by all the sounds and noises that appeared to bombard us all at once.

After what appeared to be a long drive, we arrived at my mother’s brother, Uncle Benny’s home. We stayed with his family for several months and were provided a large den room at the back of his home and smaller adjacent rooms. Unlike our home in Guam, which was cavernous, this home appeared segmented with various rooms. Outside was a large cement patio area, where we played with my cousins (five in total).

When inside the home, I especially enjoyed watching T.V. (television) programs, without a time limit. In Guam viewing was restricted to eight hours per day, via NBC Network through KUAM-TV. I remember being enamored in viewing programs such as, “Engineer Bill” (Stulla), “Romper Room,” and “Sheriff John Lunch Brigade” from the den of my uncle’s home. Of special interest was watching the program “Engineer Bill,” with a glass of milk nearby to play a traffic signal game. A game of drinking one’s milk in accordance to the traffic signals (i.e. red light signifying to stop drinking milk, yellow to slow down and green light to go ahead and drink one’s milk). Another program with Miss Jean (Harrington) in the program “Romper Room” was teaching lessons of learning object lessons, as she encouraged certain behaviors (i.e. "Do Bee and Don’t Bee.”) I usually awaited the game of the Magic Mirror in which Miss Jean would call out a child’s name, such as “I see Elizabeth,” always with the hope she’d call my name (i.e. I see Maria).

One memorable program was “Sheriff John’s Lunch Brigade,” which I engage in to this day is The Birthday Song. I’ve improvised on his song, as I phone each grandchild (eight in total) to sing The Birthday Song on their Birthdays. The words sung are as follows: “Put another candle on your birthday cake, your birthday cake, your birthday cake……, put another candle on your birthday cake, you’re another year old today……..Happy Birthday to you…….you’re another year old today!” After viewing those programs, I fondly remember playing with my sisters and brothers, replicating the games viewed on those T.V. programs, but alas those games usually began after my return from school and “airing” of those programs.

The transition in attending school was difficult, coming from a parochial school, where prayers were part of the classroom curriculum. But I was also self-conscious of my appearance because of my weight. As the new student entering the class, I remember going into the classroom with the teacher encouraging me to hang my sweater in the closet. I hesitated in entering the classroom, staying a long period of time in the closet area. After a while I heard the teacher calling out to the other students, “Where’s the new girl?” Another student could be heard saying, “She’s still in the closet.” The teacher could be heard calling my name to come into the classroom. I was hesitant and when I entered, the students appeared to focus on me with whispers to each other of, “Look how skinny she is.” After school I walked home by myself or with my sisters. The walking home was throughout my elementary to high school years.

MCF: Blog #9 (11-2-20)