The Quechua Gringo

For Father's Day my daughter got me an Ancestry DNA test. I loved the idea, I hated the waiting time, and the results have been, well interesting.

I was born in Santa Cruz, Bolivia. I was born to Beverly Coates of Saginaw, MI and Daniel Centellas Castillo of Oruro, Bolivia. 

I was born as most would describe, white. Or as my Bolivian family called me, "Casperin", better known in English as Casper the friendly ghost. Yeah I was that white; and luckily that nickname, or Elmer Fud (I was also bald for a long time), didn't stick.

I moved to the USA as a primary Spanish speaking kid who most would describe as, an immigrant, in Michigan, AKA Mexican. I went to school with ESL supports and when most heard I was a Latino/Immigrant, they would say, "but you don't look Mexican." 

I grew up in the medium sized Michigan town of Saginaw, fairly diverse but really segregated. I never felt like I fit in. I was "too white" to hang with the Mexican/Latino kids. I felt too poor to hang with the white kids in my AP classes, they grew up in less diverse areas than my middle class city neighborhood. 

I went to college and found more of my "Latino-ness" by getting involved in our Latino club and a historically Latino Fraternity (Sigma Lambda Beta). As a senior leader on campus, it was probably one of the first time I would hear the "Yeah, you look Latino" line that I get today... cause I really don't feel like I look Latino, or often not felt very Latino at all. Previous Blog: I am that Latino, but not that Latino

I am now working at La Casa de Amistad, and maybe more in touch than ever with my immigrant and Latino/Bolivian side. A couple years ago I made a trip to Bolivia with my older brother and my daughter. I got my Bolivian passport before this trip, but I didn't get to my dad's hometown.

So back to the DNA test... they say it is what is inside someone that matters, not sure if DNA is what they meant, but that is what this post is about. I am not gonna lie, I always considered myself Bolivian/American, I knew my abuelita spoke indigenous languages, and that while they had Spanish surnames my family looked like the native Quechua and Aymara cultures and communities of the Andes. I always grew up amazed by the culture, by the beauty at the Isla del Sol and Copacabana (Lake Titicaca), and the amazing structures at Tiwanaku. 

Seeing the DNA result was the first time I considered myself indigenous. I guess I always knew, but never connected the dots. Maybe because I look so much like my Michigan, European-tied ancestry? See that my largest single DNA source was the indigenous regions of the Andes Mountains in Bolivia just hit me. I have maybe still not processed it, and writing this is part of that, especially leading up to the American holiday celebrating Columbus, the person who brought the Spanish and French influence in my DNA. 

Maybe it is the circle of life and about how we are all connected that I want to celebrate? Maybe it is the stronger connection I now feel to the impressive feats of my Andes Ancestry? Maybe I as usual don't know how to feel, or what to say, except, a clear thank you to Novali for the test. Now to keep unpacking my history, my future, and how this white indigenous kid fits into the world. 

I was born in Santa Cruz, raised in Saginaw, living in South Bend, raising Hoosiers, and just trying to be the best I can, regardless of what I look like on the outside, how I feel inside, where my blood came from, but on where I am going. Knowing a little more about where I came from, is refreshing and for now I will leave it at that. 

Thanks Mom and Dad.