Mexican Things

There are so many things to love about Mexico.

Unfortunately, there are just too many people, both Mexican and non, who seem to relish in what I can only define as B-ing and M-ing. You know what the B stands for, and the M isn't a bad word, but the title just looks better that way.

I think for one of the first times in my albeit short history here, I can honestly say that I am super satisfied with life. Maybe it's because a lot of things have been going my way and a lot of our dreams are coming to fruition. But, maybe, just maybe, it's because my outlook on life is becoming much more positive.

There are still a lot of things that bother me and make me uncomfortable.

For example, it bothers me and makes me uncomfortable to see people rummaging through the garbage to find food that's still good enough to eat and cans and glass that are clean enough to sell. But, I'm happy that makes me uncomfortable, because if it didn't, it would mean that I have accepted poverty and injustice as normal goingson.

It makes me uncomfortable to see families with the nanny in a uniform pushing the stroller and carrying the bags and attending to the children. While I respect that employment as an accepted norm for a certain echalon of society, I won't let myself feel comfortable with seeing people pretend like that incredibly important individual who is working her tail off for minor compensation, is invisible. Not okay.

On the other hand, every day there is something more to love about this place. Things that make me smile and let me know that it might just all work out in the end. So, we're moving, right? I know I haven't told you, we're in the last hurdles to getting ourselves into our own home and I don't want to really share until I have keys in hand. Anyway, so we're moving and that means boxes and newspaper. I went to the newspaper stand. And by newpaper stand, I mean the 3 ft by 10 ft corregated metal box that's at the corner with a tiny old lady inside. I thought, "Why buy today's newspaper, if I'm not going to read it. I'll ask for yesterday's newspaper and maybe I'll get a deal." (Because, the definition of thrifty is why pay 10 pesos, when you can pay 8?) The aforementioned tiny old lady smiled at me and then asked, "Oh, do you want to buy the newspaper by the kilo?" Yes. Yes, I do. Where else could I go and by 3 newspapers for 6 pesos and have it sold to me by its weight.

I love you, Mexico.

Plus, the guy at Starbuck's and one of the police officers at school know me by name. That just tells me that for some people I've become a household name. That just tells me, that I maybe, just maybe, have a home here.

And you know what? Sometimes little things like that are enough.