I grew up in Mexico City. Mexico City, as you might know, is one of the huge cities of the world. What comes from that? Good things and bad things. Good things if you’re born in the rich areas or in the middle class areas. But I was born in the lower income areas close by downtown.

By the 90s, things started getting really bad in Mexico City. I started working and going to college. And when that happens, you don’t just belong to five blocks in your neighborhood anymore. I started realizing how hard it was to go from point A to point B. Public transportation was terrible. The corruption was terrible. And the politicians were terrible.

So why did I leave Mexico City for California?

I was talking with my mother-in-law on the phone, and she said, “You should see this place in California where I found a house—you can see the sea, you can see the mountains.” I thought to myself, “What is that place? Mountains?” I remember when I was a kid I could see mountains, but right now in Mexico City you can’t see anything because of the smog, the pollution. But you can see the stars here.

She asked if I wanted to come, and I said, “Yeah.”

But the real reason I moved here was my past—my drop out of college, my life as a drinking teenager, my abuse of cocaine. And I’d had enough of my family, my friends, the people I met in Mexico City. I didn’t need a break, not even a start over. I needed a place where I could sit and watch the stars, walk on the streets without being afraid of getting robbed, where I was assured my boss wouldn’t take advantage of me.

It could have been Chile, Spain, Costa Rica, Japan, New Zealand. But it happened to be one of the nicest places in the U.S.—San Francisco, the Bay Area.

I didn’t have any idea of San Francisco before I came. All I knew was that it was supposed to be a cool city. I landed in San Francisco on March 31, 2005. It was 11:00 p.m. and it was raining. I remember we drove to San Francisco, and I remember entering the city and saying, ‘Wow. What is that?’ Seeing all of those huge buildings, it kind of reminded me of old downtown in Mexico City.

Then I walked out and started seeing all the cars and people. Even the smells were very different. It was an older smell, but not disgusting. And all those people. It looked like the movies—cars and taxis and . . . black people. You don’t see black people in Mexico. I love all colors of people. But if you see a white guy in Mexico city, you’re going, ‘Oh! There’s a white guy!’ For a person like me who had lived with all of these Mexican guys, seeing all of these six-foot women with heels, these guys with cool suits, that was something that impressed me. It looked exactly like the movies.

But I also realized that there are poor people here too, crazy people here too. You just need to cross the bridge and you’re in Oakland. I was there two years ago with some friends, and we had to pull up the windows because we were afraid. Because I saw all those bad guys on the streets. It was the first time I was scared. And it was sunlight—it was noon. I said, “Shit. They have the same shit here.” The only difference is it is not all in the same place. Here we have corruption, we have accidents, we have people killing people. But at least it’s not all concentrated in one city; it’s spread out.

This is my analogy: Mexico City is like the Bay Area without the bay. Mexico City is a big chunk of land, with six cities now making one big city. It’s the same thing here. It’s a big area with San Francisco, San Mateo, San Carlos, San Jose, Sunnyvale, Mountain View, Oakland. Only it’s a little more spread out. And if you don’t go to bad places, everything looks okay. But if you have to live in one of those places, it’s still bad.

I think the best part of living here is watching the stars at night, not worrying about leaving your car open or walking your dogs; the people respect other people. Well, I’m lying. The best part is meeting people—not just meeting co-workers, but talking with people on the streets, connecting with people different from me.

I remember taking the train in my first years here—man it was packed with Indian people. I love those guys because they’re geniuses. They work for Apple, for all those huge companies. I learned recently that this is special here in this area. That it’s not happening this way in the mid-west. So I think, ‘Hey. We’re lucky.’

I never expected to meet somebody from Pakistan, from India, or somebody whose parents are from Hong Kong. But it’s the same with me. They don’t expect to meet someone from Mexico City who’s a dude who makes magazines. It’s all about getting to this environment and flowing with the wind, flowing with the water.

In Mexico, the class levels are very clear, very defined. If you dress in a Calvin Klein shirt, or drive a car like this, attend a school like this, you belong to a certain level in society. But if you take public transportation, if you’re shoes aren’t new—you’re a different person. And I grew up like that.

But I learned here people care who you are, whatever you wear. Well, most of the people—except my former landlord [laughs]. But it’s great. I’m in a position to learn something else. That’s the main thing about this area. Being aware of somewhere else other than where I grew up. I’m thankful for the friendships I’ve made here and the people I’ve met here. And now I think I’m a better person. I still drink, I still have my tequila, but it’s a different thing. I’m surrounded by people who affect my life in a positive way.