Me

stage. It was the stage that found me. I did it because the opportunity came quite naturally. Like everything else in my life, it was as if destiny itself had laid it out before me, and the only thing I had to do was decide whether to take advantage of the opportunity. Now more than ever, after everything I have been through, I am convinced that this is how everything in life is, that this is its magic and its beauty. We all walk down a karmic path, a spiritual journey, and we each have the opportunity to decide what to do with our own lives. It is as if we are wandering through the desert and all of a sudden a horse appears. We can ignore it and keep walking, or we can get on that horse. And if we do mount it, we can just sit there and do nothing and let the horse drive us, or we can take control of the reins and gallop toward the place where we truly want to go. When an opportunity comes my way, I am the only one who decides to either take it or leave it.
    Around that time, one of the opportunities that came my way arrived by telephone. I called a former colleague of mine in Mexico just to say hello and see how he was doing. While we were talking he invited me to spend a few days in Mexico City with him, and, since I had all the time in the world, I accepted the invitation without thinking twice. A few days later I boarded a flight toward another great city. The original idea was that I’d stay for just one week, but, just like when I arrived in New York, my plans changed drastically. . . .
    A few nights after I arrived, I went to the theater to see a play that was produced by and featured three close friends, who happened to be great stars of the Mexican stage: Angelica Ortiz, Angelica Maria, and Angelica Vale. The play was called Mamá Ama el Rock (Mama Loves Rock) , a musical comedy. Besides the fact that I was excited to see my friends, I’ve always loved going to the theater and I never missed an opportunity to see a new show. It had been a long time since I’d seen these friends, so when we started talking they asked me what I was doing in New York.
    “I’m studying,” I answered.
    What a lie! I simply didn’t want to get into the details.
    “Okay, forget about school,” one of them replied. “You have to stay here.” Her assertiveness surprised me, and right away she added, “See that guy standing over there?” She pointed to one of the actors. “He is leaving in a week and I don’t know what to do. Do you want to replace him?”
    Without thinking twice, I said yes, and that is how I started out in the theater world.

REACHING FOR A STAR
    MY FAMILY AND my friends in New York could not believe it when I told them I was moving to Mexico, but they were all very happy for me. They knew it would be good for me to go back to work. And just like that, out of nowhere, I had to go back to being extremely intense and focused on my work. I had just one week to prepare for my theatrical debut. Yes, in one week I learned the choreography, the lines, the blocking, everything. I was back to being the disciplined soldier of my Menudo days, but I enjoyed it so much because it brought back the euphoria I had not felt for a whole year. It was crazy to dive into doing something that was totally new for me, but the truth is that the experience with Menudo had taught me how to work at a fast pace and keep up with all the hard work. And as the saying goes, De los cobardes no se escrito nada (Nothing has been written about cowards), so I let go of any fears I might have had and plunged headfirst into this opportunity that life had thrown my way.
    I adapted to life in Mexico very naturally, with no major difficulties. Not only did I already have friends and professional connections. I also had the good fortune of moving in at first with another old work colleague. His parents and sister took me in as one more member of the family, and thanks to that I never felt alone. I loved living with them, but after a few months, when I was a bit more settled, I felt it was time to become more independent and I rented my own apartment.
    There’s a tradition in Mexican theater: Whenever a show reached its hundredth performance (or two hundredth, or three, or four, successively), some famous actor, director, or producer would come onstage and present the cast with a plaque to recognize the achievement.
    When I began to work on Mamá Ama el Rock I wasn’t aware of this tradition, and I didn’t have a clue what a big deal it was.