Escape from Mexico

Was sitting in the kitchen this morning; wandering through recent years in my mind, when I came to examine floating north of the border. As a Mexican American [never understood what this category - for what else can it be? - means or why we brown skinned folks need it] there comes a time when you are faced with looking across the border [at worst - to stare down across it, as if migrating north was a step up] and wondering if you are better off by being on this side of it.

This time of year we plan our holiday vacation; usually a new location in Mexico. In large part it's a way to connect with my past, to embrace a Mexican culture and heritage that's more pure than what I grew up with or what now surrounds us in Seattle [isolated to pockets throughout the region; growing]. We choose a Mexican destination based on what cultural events, scenery and weather [think beach and sun] it offers. But these wanderings are usually deep within Mexico; we intentionally stay away from the border towns or any hint of the merge from two countries blending into one experience.

Could it be, then, that I have repressed a sense of escaping Mexico? Could it be that I travel deep into the country knowing a return ticket sits in a pouch; taxi ride away from a plane ride home?

This is likely to be a multi-part post. Stay tuned.

con paz,
frank