just some blonde mexicans.
we are. a dreamer and a kid named rio. just some blonde mexicans.
our current stop is in a town that has a phone booth.
people ride tricycles around the streets selling pan and Mexican ice pops. you can always anticipate their arrival around the corner from the foghorn signals as they near. tomorrow I am not buying bread from chedraui. just so I can give this guy some business. I don’t ever need what they sell. but if everyone said that, they would have nothing to sell. and I appreciate them and their goods, homemade breads instead of the capitalistic loaves. i appreciate their hard work and dedication, peddling their asses off in the hot Mexican sun. at a time when anyone can just go to the market and buy bread, they insist on making rounds anyway. for the chance that they will catch that seniorita making dinner in need of pan. at night in bed you can hear the horn as they ride by, trying to sell their pan for meager pesos, building their own family and dream.
in town we also have a refrigerator fix it man, and beheaded livestock dangling on strings in the corner carnicerias. its a simple place. backpackers and yogis, hostels, divers. free spirits who have been led here just like us for whatever reason. people from all over the world creating their own adventure in the middle of nowhere too. searching for wisdom, taking a break from the rat race, happy for each day, happy for no car, some tasty guacamole, happy Mexican neighbors, and a simple life.
there is a new trail to the beach. through the jungle. sort of. all paved and treed. I love that trail. because at the end of its rainbow and a purple tricycle ride with a kid in the basket, is a pot of gold. the most beautiful beaches in the world. bluffs to explore and rocks to climb. white sand, swimming coves, abandoned fishing boats docked on shore, thatched huts, low palms, and lots of secret spots to sit overlooking the azul sea, the Mexican Caribbean, the yucatan peninsula, whatever you prefer. this place has a lot of names. maybe that adds to the mystery. but i sit and enjoy the time to think and be. time to be present, and appreciate the vista. time to sit with happiness and excitement and gratitude for this amazing life we are given, and for the strength to follow dreams and be in such a place. feeling the sun beat down so fiercely, enveloping me in its arms. i smile and then run down the bluff and into the water. so free. and then I go home and write about it. barefoot, with my hair down. free.
for dinner we usually have fajitas and celebrate our freedom. sometimes we will have American things like chicken burgers and hard boiled eggs. but usually we dabble in the local fare, as best as I can cook it anyway. for breakfast we have coffee on our downtown patio and watch mexico arise. the owner of the carniceria across the street sleepily rolls up the shop doors and opens for the manana, only to close in a few hours for siesta. the Mexicans walk by in their pressed uniforms and meet up on the corner to catch the bus to work. at hotels or adventure parks.
and then there is river the explorer. whose mind and heart are so fresh and pure. whose freckles multiply each day and eyes get bigger and bluer with each discovery. she is along on this adventure and it is changing her world. she was already a pretty cool kid. but now she’s awesome. she can roll her r’s in espanol, pick up our laundry at the lavanderia by herself, and hunt iguanas like no one’s business. her little poodle keeps her company instead of TV. she rocks her undies at the dinner table because there’s no AC. she has a shelf of toys and nail polish, her princess scooter, and a huge imagination. she is taking it all in, and I pray it never leaves her. just a normal kid in paradise.
our planning includes what 60’s vw bus we will save up for and what time the boats leave for belize. buying mosquito nets for family camping adventures deep into the jungle to explore new cenotes and search for mystical alux trolls. and when to go to Guatemala and Chiapas. sometimes we talk about our adventure and sometimes we don’t. the extraordinary becomes reality. and our conversation sways to normal things like how many pesos we have and what market had the fewest fruit flies on their bananas yesterday so I can go today and stock up on platanos, barefoot, with my organic shopping bag and sunglasses. my disguise on the Tulum streets, away from the lights and pressures and busy-ness of American life. just walking around platano shopping barefoot. without a care in the world. happy, and free.
but other times we talk about it. about what we are sharing, how we did it. how we followed our dreams to happiness. how people told me i couldn’t and i still did. river is blossoming into a world traveler with a unique perspective and a soul full of sunshine, exactlylike i wanted her to become.
eventually the blasting speakers down the street finally crackle themselves into no trabajo, and we watch the day end and the puddles dry up from the daily afternoon sprinkles and the aloe plants grow bigger and the wild dogs come out to look for food, and the sun sets in our paradise.
and we don’t know how long we will be gone. and that’s the beauty.
our life is simple. simple happiness. beautiful ocean, cenotes, sunshine, and guacamole. just some blonde mexicans. with some big smiles.
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