When Luis Gaxiola Baqueiro hears a song by a Mexican artist, he gets goosebumps.
"Even if I don't like the singer, I listen to the whole thing," said Baqueiro, a 28-year-old graduate student with a shy manner and soft voice.
The Mexican, who left his country about a month ago to earn a second master's degree at ASU, said he feels worlds away from home in Arizona, where the Mexican food is nowhere near authentic and the people are always bustling about, too busy to enjoy life.
Every time he hears Mexican music, he can close his eyes and imagine being in Torreon, his hometown in Coahuila, Mexico.
On a recent trip to Sedona with the Asociacion de Mexicanos en ASU, a club for Mexico-born students who want to celebrate and maintain their culture with other Mexicans, Baqueiro felt more at home than he has since he got here.
The stunning red rocks and architecture in the city two hours north of Tempe caused Baqueiro's jaw to drop.
"Wow," he said repeatedly as he peered up at the vortices. He shook his head in wonder.
Members of the Asociacion de Mexicanos en ASU meet at least once a week to have lunch and catch up with each other. At each meeting, they drape a Mexican flag over a chair and speak Spanish, which attracts other Mexicans who haven't heard about the club and sometimes join on the spot.
"We felt there was need for a club like this, so we did it," said Oscar Ozuna, a graduate student in physics who helped form the group about one-and-a-half years ago.
Ozuna, who was raised in Ensenada, said he and other founders of the club had thought of joining Mexican-American associations on campus, but those groups held their meetings in English and did not make the preservation of Mexican culture a priority.
The Asociacion de Mexicanos, however, is completely devoted to culture.
On road trips, they listen to music from home and speak only Spanish. They celebrate Mexican holidays together at local Mexican restaurants, and when they sing the Mexican National Anthem, they bow their heads as if in prayer.
Brian Gratton, an ASU professor who has conducted extensive research on the immigration and migration history of Mexican-Americans and Latinos, applauds the effort.
"I find it a little bit unusual when I think about Mexicans as whole in the city of Phoenix," he said.
While he said immigrants often find and socialize with others like themselves, most -- especially young people -- do not go to such lengths to hang onto their culture.
Most Mexicans, Gratton said, become Americanized.
The graveyard
Ana Gonzalez, a family studies and education senior and member of the Asociacion de Mexicanos, moved with her parents to Yuma, Ariz., when she was 2.
Growing up in America, Gonzalez said, caused her to lose much of her culture, such as strong religious beliefs and fluency in Spanish.
"I very much regret that I can't hold a conversation with people who only speak Spanish," she said.
Her experience is not unique, according to Gratton.
America, he said, has become a graveyard for languages. When foreign-born immigrants arrive in the United States, they continue to speak their native language, and while they may learn some English, they usually favor their first tongue.
The second generation generally will speak English as a primary language while understanding and speaking some of their parents' language. The third generation, however, typically will not have any command over the original language, Gratton said.
So far, Gonzalez's family is following that pattern.
Gonzalez said her parents always want to speak with her in Spanish, even though she feels more comfortable with English. As for the third generation of her family, Gonzalez said even though her nephews don't know any Spanish, she will make it a priority for her children to learn Spanish as their first language and practice their culture.
She never misses a meeting, outing or celebration of the Asociacion de Mexicanos, and when she is with other members, she doesn't speak English.
Ay ay ay
On Thursday, about 50 members of the club celebrated Mexican Independence Day together at Tres Margaritas in Tempe.
They greeted each other with smiles, kisses on the cheek and hugs.
A Mariachi band circled the room, often stopping by the club's tables to take requests.
As they sang Cielito Lindo, one of the most popular Mexican songs in history, everyone joined in at the top of their lungs.
"De tu casa a la mia, cielito lindo, no hay mas que un paso. Ahora que estamos solos, cielito lindo, dame un brazo ... Ay ay ay ay, canta y no llores. Porque cantando se alegran, cielito lindo, los corazones."
Translation: "From your house to mine, beautiful sky, is no more than a step. Now that we are alone, beautiful sky, give me a hug ... Sing and don't cry, beautiful sky, because singing makes the heart happy."
Amanda Lee Myers is a journalism and Spanish senior. Reach her at Amanda.L.Myers@asu.edu.
