home at last

There's definite truth to the saying.... "there's no place like home." After a month and a half at my parent's house in Kansas, I am very happy to be home. It was a nice break from my everyday routine, but at the end of my trip I was really longing for Jaime and my own life. My mom was a great babysitter and my parents spoiled us with eating out and many gifts, but after awhile all that extra stuff is just that, extra stuff, and deep down I longed for Jaime and for our little family to be reunited once again. I didn't even realize that I longed for Mexico too. In spite of all the problems, poverty, corruption, crime, and litter, Mexico is a magical place for me. I never feel the same magical beauty when I get off the plane in Kansas....

Thinking about it, it seems as if it's the romance of Mexico that I love. But what is romance? Maybe the romance lies in the many cultural contrasts or in the climate or in the breeze off the ocean....that certainly could be. Or possibly in an older way of life that hasn't been quite as alterterd by technology and "progress" as the world I know in the states.

Whatever the difference, and whatever that magical something is, I certainly felt it when Oliver and I debarked onto the tarmac, just like in an old-fashioned movie, and felt the hot evening desert air. With Oliver, my two huge suitcases, carry-on, diaper bag, and stroller getting off the plane, through customs and out the sliding doors was no easy maneuvering, but everyone was helpful along the way--the pilot patiently waited for me to get the stroller put together and loaded telling me "Not to worry. I won't leave you out here alone," the customs agent let me through without totally filling out my form (another reason I love Mexico), a polite Mexican gentleman lifted my bags onto the x-ray platform and complimented me on my good Spanish, and since we were the last two people for the evening the final customs official didn't even make me push the the button that turns green or red signaling a bag that must be opened and checked.

Finally we were through the double sliding doors, with the happy face and open arms of Jaime and our friend Paco awaiting us. In a minute, we were out on the curb happily chatting away and playing with Oliver, waiting for Paco to drive up in his little bocho. Once he pulled up in his Mexican-made classic VW bug, I could see that it would be a major challenge to get all my luggage and all of us to fit. But instead of going about our business in a sour mood and with a horrendous amount of cursing (what always used to happen on family trips when I was a kid), we figured it all out with everyone's input and with everyone in a good mood. The guys had given up getting either suitcase to fit in the trunk and Paco had already offered to go look for some cord to tie the stroller onto the roof, until I had the clever idea of pushing my largest suitcase just a bit further up against the top of the trunk--I'm an expert at packing bags to their maximum capacity--so that the front trunk (old VWS have the engine in back) could finally hook closed. Phew!

Then off we were in to the warm Mexican evening full of stars with the rev of the bocho engine, the windows down and a cool, gentle ocean breeze on our cheeks.

To me, that's magical. That's Mexico.