Joba Esperanza Jordan

Joba never feared death. Not really. She knew it’d come. It had come for so many others in her lifetime. Both late in life and others way too early. Her father, mother, brothers and sisters, a baby brother she never met. But in that mindset, Joba lived her life as happy and as carefree as possible. No FOMO. No real regrets. No time for any bullshit. Just paying her taxes and living life. 

Feisty. Stubborn. Outspoken. Loyal. Lovable. Generous. Caring. These words came to define her young and wild personality. The pink and purple hair gave away her beliefs on age and style. It defined how she lived. As an educator for the Jefferson Union High School District for over 25 years, she spent a lot of time with the young and restless. She knew the lingo. She worked at the now defunct Daly City Youth Health Center and did stints at Westmoor and Jefferson High School. She did a lot. Dare we say she was a role model? Many would say so. She was direct when she needed to be, affectionate when appropriate, and always understanding as long as you didn’t lie to her. Her advice to all the kids she met over the years came across the same way: against the grain, blunt, and always truthful. It was never Mrs. Jordan. It wasn’t Mrs. anything. She was just Joba. 

Joba Jordan left this earthly world on Tuesday March 5, 2024. She was 75. Or 67, depending on which story you were told. As with many immigrants from her generation, migrating from all over Latin America, birth records are tricky, especially if you came from a small town. If you were lucky enough to celebrate her 50th birthday in 2007, you were more likely celebrating 58 years of grace. We were all just a few years late, but if you knew Joba, that didn’t matter. It was still one of the best parties that her family had thrown for anyone. If you’ve been friends with the Jordan family over the years, you probably attended quite a few ragers yourself. Does anyone remember the party at the Courtland house in San Bruno? Folks were hiding from her in fear of taking shots of tequila. For the record and for celebrational context, it was a baptism. Yup. 

Joba was born in Jauja, Peru. A small town north of Huancayo, way east of the capital of Lima. Her father Elias Osorio was a military man. Soft spoken. Stern. Loyal as they come. Joba’s mother, Clara Carrera Osorio, was a strong and influential woman. The caretaker of the family. Serious, and funny when she needed to be. After Mr. Osorio’s passing in 1987, Mrs. Osorio took on the family matriarchy until the wise age of 97. On January 10, 2001, that power and title was handed over to Joba when her mother passed. Joba was the youngest of seven siblings: Lucho, Eduardo, Soledad, Josefina, Julia, & Elvira. The first five were from Mrs. Osorio’s first marriage. Joba and Elvira were the two sole children of Mr. Osorio. So, how does the youngest daughter of a big family become the matriarch? That’s a long and interesting story. Or a debate. One for discussion over a few sips of tequila.  

Joba's first and only marriage was to Luis Sandoval Jordan in 1974. Luis, or Lucho as he is known, was a bit more of a serious person, but equally as devilish in his time. Shortly after their wedding, they both made their way to San Francisco, then to South San Francisco, to begin a new life. A better life. In the summer of 1975, the happy couple brought a mischievous daughter into this world. Her name was Jennifer. Two years later, she was joined by her precocious baby brother, Christopher, and the family was off. Birthday parties, sports, recitals, communions, Disney vacations. They amassed a solid group of friends and built a circle that made life fun. Joba was living her American dream. 

The late eighties were a time of relentless change for Joba. In 1987, she lost her father while her parents were in the Bay Area visiting from Lima. He was 67. The following year, Joba and Lucho separated, ending a 14-year marriage that saw her grow into the woman that we’ve come to know. The year after, she began a new relationship with Jorge Mora. Her long-term boyfriend, as she would define him. Their relationship would last for the next 35 years. Joba was raising adolescents. A teenage girl waiting to let loose. A quiet boy nervously awaiting what life brought next. Joba never liked to worry too much about things. She knew that life would bring good and bad. She just needed to hold fast and keep it together. 

We’re not sure if Joba ever wanted to be a grandmother. Afterall, she’d wanted her children to take full advantage of life first before settling down. And she wanted to enjoy hers, too. In the end, it didn’t really matter. In 1994, her first grandchild made her way into her life. She became Joba the grandmother. This would come to define her in the last 28 years of her life. But don’t call her grandma. Oh no. It’s still just Joba. 

Ashlynn was the first grandchild to arrive. She was the only one for a good 8 year stretch. That was enough time to give all the attention to one grandkid, and for her to become the favorite. As a grandparent, you probably shouldn’t have favorites, but she did. We knew she did. Before you judge, the next two grandkids were her favorites, too. She saw them all differently, so it was easy for her to make that decision. Next up was Anissya, or Niss, who arrived in 2002. A true middle child. As feisty as her grandmother, but just as sweet. Given a side-by-side comparison, there was a lot of Joba in Niss. I think both of them were ok with that. Then finally, a baby boy. Eli. As the favorite grandson, and the baby of the group, he was her everything. Some might say that he reminded her of her own pollito, Christopher. Joba did everything for Eli. Heated up his dino nuggets, and later on full-on chicken strips, and made sure he didn’t have to clean up after himself. Not the greatest of examples to set, but hey, he was her baby. Over the years, Joba had managed to be there for everything her grandkids did. With Ashlynn it was all her sports and activities, but especially proud at her college graduation. Joba was there for every level of Anissya’s softball career, from rec ball to travel to college. And with Eli, as the youngest family athlete, she had just gotten started enjoying all his sports, baseball and football being his favorites. Her last year’s became tough for her to travel to games and make that often long trek to a playing field, but she made sure he felt her presence. She’ll definitely miss all the success and achievements that Eli has yet to accomplish. It won’t sit well with her to miss those things. See, her feistiness comes from trying to be everything to everyone. Holding expectations high and hoping to receive the same back. But her grandchildren will never forget. 

Joba amassed a lot of friends since arriving in the U.S., and she’s lost a lot over the years, whether from death or disagreements. She was stubborn but always welcomed an apology. Her co-workers turned long-life friends from the Jefferson Union HS days Haji, Terrie, Sonia, Pat, and the late Sandy were women that supported who Joba was and loved her dearly as-is. 

Her large family in Peru would celebrate her whenever she visited. From summer birthdays spent in Lima sweating to all the humidity to numerous baptismal celebrations for one of the many kids she god-mothered. Cousins, aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, god children, and family friends. They would all somehow fit into a small 900 square-foot apartment on the third floor of her parent’s former home, spilling out the door and into the stairwell landing, making a lot of noise. Did I mention there’d always be a live band in there? Good times. 

Her political views were always hot takes and not for everyone. Some of them she really believed in, others she said just to spark reactions. She had this interesting and perplexing mix of conservatism and liberalism, and somehow, she made it work. I’m sure she may have offended a few folks, but those who really knew her knew that it didn’t come from a malicious place. Her pretty good English was broken just enough to make it funny. She wouldn’t like anyone apologizing for her, so we won’t. 

After all is said and done, this is not a full account of everything Joba has done, accomplished, failed at, or succeeded at. If you want to learn more, talk to her kids, grandkids, ex, widowed boyfriend, her many friends and co-workers, and we’re sure they’ll have a lot of stories to fill in the gap. 

Joba is survived by her partner in life Jorge Mora, her friend and ex-husband Lucho, children Jennifer and Christopher, grandchildren Ashlina, Niss, and Eli, son-in-law Oscar, nephew-in-law Gavin, sisters Josefina and Elvira, future daughter-in-law Maron, and many, many more.