Soup and Tattoos

The twenty-four year old Latino who brings my bowl of soup has a big smile on his lips and tattoos on his arms.

            “What’s that?” I ask, pointing to one of a baby’s footprint.

            “It’s my son’s foot when he was born.”

            “He was a big baby. What’s the number around it?”

            The Latino’s teeth are very white. His black hair is neatly combed. “That’s his number on the ID bracelet at the hospital when he was born.”

            “Are those feathers?” I ask, pointing to another area of his arm.

            “My Dad did it. He can do tattoos. When we were kids he told us not to act like white crows. These are two crow feathers. Dad was very tough on us.” He motions with his hands across his shirt. “I have a daughter. I’m going to put her name all across here.” His excitement is contagious.

            “Do you like it here?” I ask.

            He thinks I mean the restaurant. “I just remodeled the counter. I did the granite. And that wall.” He points to a beautiful stone wall. “I’m learning construction.”

            “Where are you from?” I ask. I had meant did he like the U.S.

            “I was born in Los Angeles.”

            I look down at my soup which is almost unappealing healthy. “You like this food?” I ask.

            “Guatemalan is better, but I eat healthy now. My whole family does. No more pupusas.”

            “Yes,” I say, reflecting his grin. Then I begin to eat. Having your kid’s name tattooed across your chest is not unusual in Los Angeles. It is an extension of the family values the Latinos have always had.

            Imagine if my son Jules’s name were tattooed across me on my chest or arms or back? What if I saw it every day, all day long? What if I couldn’t get it off? I must love my son as much as this man does, but when we gave Jules his name, it became his, not mine. I don’t think he’d want it tattooed on me, either.

            Is it because we have a familiarity of the mind and not the body? I have to think that the person who would do this, loves enough so that the person whose name it is, would be proud.

I Am Everyone I Meet: Random Encounters on the Streets of Los Angeles, is available this summer for 99 cents!!! Click HERE to check it out!