A Quick Update

In 2010, we moved back to the small town in Colorado that I never stopped missing while we lived in Mexico. Now I sometimes miss Mexico, but I wouldn't travel as freely as we did when we were there, camping out in remote areas and so forth.

Mexico today is in a period of change, and in many ways it is more dangerous now. That said, I have plenty of American friends who still live there very happily, just taking a few more precautions than they did in the past.

Just to say!

Rosana

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May 24, 2006 — This morning I walked down to the carretera (highway) a little before nine, while it’s still a nice cool temperature. By cool I mean I don’t work up a sweat and am still comfortable in slacks, as opposed to the capris or shorts I will put on later. I had swapped the long-sleeved shirt I wear early in the morning when having tea on the veranda for a short-sleeved t-shirt.

Even getting to the highway was a bit of a challenge, as I was following a young cow down a narrow street. When I saw a lady going into her house on that street, I asked her about the cow, which was heading right for the highway at a good clip. She said the owner wasn’t around. By the time she and I had had this talk, the cow had safely crossed the highway and was checking out some plastic bags and other trash for possible munchies. I turned to walk down the highway and that was the last I saw of the cow.

My destination was a butcher shop that had been recommended by another gringa. When I found it, I told the couple running it just that. They asked who she was, and I said Maria from California. In our chatting (all in Spanish), they sent their best wishes to her husband. I said I hadn’t met him yet, that I had met Maria at a monthly breakfast.

Their meat was all under refrigeration. I had been hoping to find some good chicken, but like most butcher shops in Mexico, they had beef and pork, as well as some cheeses and eggs. I bought a little pork and he asked me how to cut it. “To fry,” I said, being totally at sea for a more precise meat-cutting vocabulary. He cut nice thin slices. I bought a few eggs too, after ascertaining that the dust on them didn’t mean they were old. The shop is right on the highway and so the eggs get dusty fast. These were from yesterday, he assured me. I assume this doesn’t mean from the hen yesterday, but from their distributor. Still, I think I will buy eggs elsewhere in the future.

They were very friendly and we exchanged a lot of personal information as I did the shopping. They know our names, where we live, how long we’ve been here, and other such data. I know that they are Alicia and Jose, that they have four children between 21 and 7 years old, and that I can phone them and they will deliver meat to my house. Considering that walking along the highway to their shop isn’t that much fun, likely I will do that.

I walked away feeling just a little more connected in this town. When Chicho, a teenage boy I know, went by on a bike, I felt all the more connected. My mood improved even more on finding a bakery and getting some pastries still warm from the oven.

On my way up from the highway, I saw a woman who lives across from the school there. Yesterday afternoon Kelly and I had endured, with not particularly good grace, hours of extraordinarily loud popular music (including American rap) coming from the school. I asked Maria what that was about, and she said it was a day in honor of the students. Teacher’s day had been earlier this month, and now the tables were turned, and the teachers had cooked for the kids and there had been dancing.

A nice outing.

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