It’s winter, and you know what that means: Mexico! There’s no better way to stay ahead of those winter blues than to just head south. Geese know this, whales know this and I know this, too. This year I looked forward to our annual south-of-the-border trip more than ever, after going through the trauma of a broken wrist, surgery and recovery, and then my mom’s worn-out shoulder, surgery and recovery—I need to recover from all that recovery!
So we headed south, like good little geese. It took a long day of travel to get here, but not as long, I reminded myself, as it takes the geese or whales. A car ride, couple plane rides, a bus ride and a taxi, and we arrive at the old home place in Puebla, at 4 a.m. Mexican time, tired but glad to be there.
The first order of business (after sleeping in) was to assess the damage done since the last time we were there and see what we could fix or replenish. I use the term “we” rather loosely, my part in this being mostly moral support. The microwave wasn’t working, the Internet was down, the cupboards bare, the yard overgrown. So the first day here was, as usual, a shopping and fixing day. My Americanized Mexican marvels at the fact that nobody here will bother to fix something that is easily remedied with a $3 part and 20 minutes of attention. Hey, we’re in Mexico! You just work with what you got, the best you can. We got to work and soon we had functioning Internet and a new microwave. Next was shopping for groceries—so many yummy delectables to choose from! We loaded the shopping cart so full we could barely push it. (Don’t get the idea that we are rich, food is just cheaper here.) We spent an hour in the backyard, macho Mexican hacking away at the excess branches with a machete, me playing accordion to provide encouragement.
When I tell people I’m going to Mexico, they instantly picture balmy breezes, beaches and margaritas, but that’s not what this is about—though, yes, it is warmer here and the days are longer. Our upcoming road trip may include some beaches and margaritas, but the rest of the time it’s about visiting family, especially 95-year-old Señor Papá, as I call him. Señor Papá still lives at home, thanks to his family and especially brother Hernán, who looks after him. When we arrive, Hernán gets to take a break, and that means we are here at the house most of the time. We go out for short forays—walks to the tortillería, bakery, butcher—or just around the neighborhood or sometimes downtown to admire those beautiful old buildings. But most of the time, we are here at the house. Among other things, we busy ourselves with household tasks that have not been done for a long time, like washing the kitchen windows and cleaning out the fridge (lots of science experiments going on in there).
Even though this may not be what most people think of as a vacation, it feels like a vacation to me. My to-do list is shortened way, way down. I don’t have to drive anywhere. I work a little each day, but not too much. I climb up on the roof and check out my volcanoes, and sometimes I play music up there in the sunshine. Having time to play music every day is always part of what I like so much about being here. Today while the guys watched the bullfights on T.V., I learned a new paso doble: “Silverio”! I hate the bullfights but I love the music. Yesterday we sat out in the backyard, in the shade of the lemon tree by the flowering poinsettia, and just jammed on whatever Mexican tunes came to mind. Then, inspired by all those lemons, I made up a big pitcher of lemonade, or limonada, as we say here. Very refreshing.
We don’t always have to go out to shop; often the groceries appear at the door. The honey guy comes by, Want to buy some honey? Why, yes, we do. Then the dairy people come with fresh cheese, sour cream and butter. I especially like the Oaxaca cheese. Oaxaca is our road trip destination this year, and if the rest of the place is as good as their cheese, we will have a great time. Stay tuned!