Ensenada

Hello everyone. In the upcoming postings I will be writting about my experiences as a young mexican living in Ensenada and my also about my exeperiences living in LA as an Mexican American. I hope you enjoy my true life story.

Oh, this will be good. Looking forward to reading this thread.

WELCOME to the Nomad board HijodeEnsenada!

Bob H

Ensenada Story part 1

I am writing these passages to share my experiences living in Ensenada as a young child in the early eighties and now living in LA as a Mexican American. I want to share my story because it helps me connect with everyone that loves Baja. If there are any questions regarding the passages please feel free to ask them.


I lived in Ensenada until I was eight years old with my mother my younger sister and my father. My mother did not work so she could take care of us. My father worked as a mechanic out our humble home in Ensenada, in the neighborhood of Granjas del Gallo. He meet many people some influential that made things a little easier whenever we or a friend of my family were in a tight jam. This is probably the reason why he never charged for his services to certain people. One experience comes to mind that happened when I lived in Ensenada. My mother was having complications delivering my sister so they had to do a C section. The C section was performed by my father friend who was the head of the Hospital General in Ensenada at no charge. Dr. Ayala is his name since that day when ever we were in need of any medical attention Dr Ayala provided the services at no charge. Another time that something similar happened was when two uniform officials from the Mexican customs showed up to my house looking for my father. My father was not home at the time this happened. My mother worried that my father was implicated in some kind of illegal activity told the two officers that my father was not home. I could see the worry expression in my mother faces as she talked to the officers. One of the men walked back to the car they were riding in and pulled a box out of the truck that looked like a shoebox. Sure enough it was a shoebox. The officer handed the box to my mother and told her it was a little thank you gift for my father for fixing his wife?s car. My mother puzzled and at the same time relief accepted the box. It turned out to be a pair of boots that the officers had confiscated from someone and they were bringing them to my dad.

My father was one of the only mechanics in the area of Ensenada that spoke English. This was advantage for him and a benefit to all the Americans that lived in the area including the people in Punta Banda. On any given Sunday my father would pack his tools and take us to Punta Banda to David?s house. David lived in one of the homes that were part of a small community that were kicked out in the late nineties by the Mexican government. I am pretty sure most people are familiar with this issue. My father would use the trip to Punta Banda to work on the cars of the people in this small community and
at the same time take us out to the beach or to The Bufadora (My father just to took us there before they had all those restaurants opened and there was less people selling trinkets). It was quiet an experience going to the Bufador the beach in Punta Banda. I remember going inside the vacant skeleton structure that had the shape of a huge dome. This dome was located north from David?s house. We made numerous trips to this dome and every time we went inside my father would tell about the story of the structure. The story of the dome and the adjacent building was that it was a owned by Cantiflas (famous Mexican comic) due to not having enough funding the project stopped. The dome and the building adjacent was suppose to be a top of the line hotel. Before we moved to the US I remember hearing that the hotel had been finished and it was open for business. I haven?t been in Punta Banda since I was a child, I don?t know if this is true.

Look out for Part Dos
Germ