this is not the mexico i left behind. …
after 14 years, i took a trip back to the motherland. i say this tongue and cheek, since i wasn’t born in mexico and the memories that i do have of it are bittersweet.
every summer growing up until about the 8th grade, my family would take a road trip to mexico for two months to visit family and hit the beaches. i always started out excited about the trips, getting to see my cousins, splash around in the warm beaches [much nicer than california beaches] and go horseback riding but by week three, i had grown tired of being made fun of for my “norteña” accent and the funny way i would speak spanish, not to mention the dry heat in Durango that left your skin looking as cracked as the desert floor and the mosquito-friendly humidity of Zacatecas that would leave me sleeping in the truck with the windows rolled up [ i'm allergic]. so with reason, i had held off on visiting the country of my family’s origin for more than a decade until nostalgia and a longing to see the place where it all began called me back. …
so this 4th of july, along with my husband and two-year-old son i flew to the only place in mexico that didn’t hold memories long forgotten but the promise of something spectacular, something i have been yearning for since i got over my father’s bedtime stories of Aztec and Maya warriors, princesses and gods and how important our culture was and is, still–connection.
i planned the trip, renting a room in a century-old bed and breakfast with 12-foot turquoise painted doors and 24-foot ceilings instead of a resort with conference rooms and spas, staying in the heart of the state, Merida, instead of the homogenized, theme-parkesq Cancun [much to my travel agent's horror]. and for the first three days, all was good.
the weather, a steady 90 degrees with about 90% humidity felt good on my skin and changed it two tones darker almost overnight. the people were just as warm, striking up conversation and sharing even their deepest family traumas to those willing to reciprocate. the smog was thick down the narrow side streets but cleared as the numerous plazas opened up the city. the general attitude of yucatecans was relaxed, inquisitive and open, with a flair for social happenings and art all around. taking a stroll through the plaza mayor at midnight would have you fooled, with the couples nuzzling on the park benches, children running after bubbles being blown on the center stage and tourists looking for treasure among the sellers sprawled on the sidewalks along the plaza as a live folk band played under a nearby awning.
it struck me that there wasn’t that feverish need to get out, the lustful eyes watching tourists in the hopes of striking a deal for a better life. these were people that were happy. and those that did move on and out did it with money, knowledge and through their professions. call me what you’d like but the areas of mexico i had visited and frequented in my youth were poorer areas, where even running water was a luxury and the education ended at the fifth grade. but in Merida, just a few minutes from several universities and among the dozens of art galleries and museums the people were just like us.
i’m gonna leave it at that for fear that this will run longer and longer so instead, i will periodically write more on the wealth of experiences that i had in the Yucatan and [of course] include photos to illustrate my words. …
