What happens when your neighborhood gets gentrified?
Papas is a short video by DFW, Texas creator German Torres. He explains it much better than we can:
You roll up to your tio’s carne asada ready to down some truly inhuman amount of your tia’s arroz rojo when suddenly, you realize that your uncle has traded in his authentic sombrero for a weird plaid fedora.
What will you do? WHAT WILL YOU DO?
First of all, don’t be scared. Just choose one or more options from the list below:
Stand-up comedian Luke Torres loves his family and his gente. Does his family seem like yours?
OK then. Be that way. Two can play that game. Here’s our list of the Pocho Ocho worst possible vacation destinations:
8. Community service. Were you volunteered? Court-ordered? Did your mom rope you into it? Whether it’s babysitting bratty kids at church or painting over graffiti-ed walls that will be covered in new graffiti by the next morning, there’s nothing quite like serving your community.
7. The public pool. Why such a drag? Probably because it’s about 60% chlorine and 40% other peoples’ urine. Swim away!
6. Your family’s rancho in the old country. No running water, no AC, no TP, you may not speak the language, no TV, no Internet, your relatives laugh at you behind your back — or to your face — and you have no escape until your parents come back for you.
5. Sleeping under a cactus with your tío. What? Do Mexicans not do that anymore?
(PNS reporting from EAST LOS) All people have six degrees of separation? Hells, nah! A new study by an area mathematician begs to differ.
“The truth is that, for Chicanos, there is only a single degree of separation,” says UCLA Ph.D. mathematics candidate Beto Pérez, of Painter Avenue in Whittier. “I’ve done a global calculation based on a plethora of factors and concluded that journalist Frigyes Karinthy’s theory of the general population does not apply to Chicanos.”
Pérez published his findings in article and photo essay titled, “Inlakesh: Chicano Identity One-On-One,” in the June issue of National Geographic.
“First of all, most Chicanos have too many primos,” he told PNS, “and therefore there are never too many people you won’t know. When you add in homies and rucas, plus tíos and tías, plus people you start calling “compadres” five minutes after you meet them, you never even get to the point where more than three degrees of separation are required,” Pérez said.