I’ve never been to New Mexico before so I figured I owed it to myself to pull over, have a cheeseburger and check it out. I’m in Lordsburg and it’s about everything you’d expect from a small town alongside an interstate. It’s got a mom and pop’s market, some gas stations, a post office, library, and high school. And that’s about it.

Waiting in line for my cheeseburger, the couple ahead of me were old school immigrants from Mexico. The husband spoke no english at all, asking his wife for dos hamburgesas chiquitas and his wife’s wasn’t much better asking the cashier for "tree haamburgurs" and holding up three fingers.

Thing is, the cashier was chicano, and though he didn’t let on to it, I’m sure that he spoke spanish. (he started typing in the order before she tried to translate). His demeanor was belittling. He wouldn’t look them in the eyes until finally he gave them an impatient "anything else" look without saying a thing.

It’s so strange, the antognism between Mexican immigrants and the Chicano generation they created. It was one thing I kept hearing over and over again in Acambaro – that the gringos treated the migrant workers well up there, but that the Chicanos, Pochos, Latinos, Hispanics (whatever you want to call them) did not.

It seems like there’s a big effort to change that lately – like alliances and social networks are making an emphasis to collaborate across borders. I hope so … for the sake of the old couple in front of me and the bitter kid at the cash register.