There was a little girl, about three years old, in a little white dress and black Mary Jane shoes, dancing between her parents. I parked and walked the cobblestone streets of the Spanish colonial plazas, eventually sitting on a bench and watching a family play in front of me. That changed a few days later, when I drove into Saltillo, Coahuila, about an hour southwest of Monterrey. I'd found one part of the puzzle in Monterrey, but there were still missing pieces. I have more of my maternal grandfather’s features-darker hair, darker skin, darker eyes, sharper features in my face, more moreno (brown). They looked a lot like my dad’s side of the family: The Martínez’s are light skinned and have lighter hair than my mother’s side, the Castruitas. A street view in Capula, Michoacán Ren Fullerīut the thing was, the people in Monterrey didn’t look like me.
