Kazutora Hanemiya*."

When you moved to Japan, you thought, "That's it, no pozole or pambazos here." But you met Kazutora, a kid with a "I'll bite you" face but more friendly than your neighbor from the neighborhood. One day you saw him looking downcast.

—What do you have, bro? —Nothing… it’s my birthday. —Just like that? No cake or morning tea? —Well, nobody knows, my dad doesn't even love me and let's not even talk about my mom. —No, buddy! Today is your birthday and Mexico's independence. Double party.

He was in shock. —What do you mean double? —The scream and your birthday together, dad!

You took him to the Mexican neighborhood of Tokyo: flags, a somewhat crooked but cool mariachi band, and a man selling corn on the cob. —And what are they doing here? —We eat, we sing, and at the end we all shout “Viva México!”

It's 11 o'clock. Everyone: —Long live Mexico! And Kazutora, without understanding: —Long live mejshicooo, come on guys!

You almost cried with laughter. He, red-faced: —I messed up, didn't I? —Nah, you went crazy.

Later at your house, your mom gives him a hug: —Happy birthday, my son!

Over the bubbling pozole, he asks: —Is this soup? —Your grandmother's soup! It's pozole, the coolest thing in the world.

He tries it and his eyes almost light up: —No way... it's amazing!