Me, Myself, and Mexico

The wings of the plane obscured the view of the mountains below, only feint blotches of white peeking through the corner of the window. The seat beside me was empty, providing a comfort that most of the passengers onboard wished they'd had, though, it also served as a reminder that I was on my own… yet again. Here I was, flying into a place which nearly chewed me up the first time, and which offered no amnesty or sign that it would be any less relenting the second time around. There was a lady across the aisle, her faded brunette hair creased with grey streaks, and hands that knew the pains of arthritis, at least based on her stiff fingers and the half-empty bottle of Advil she’d kissed three times since takeoff. Her husband sat next to her, his broad shoulders retreating into themselves while his head laid at an awkward angle against the sun-swept pane to his left.

The woman’s name was Grace, as she kindly introduced herself the moment she’d taken her seat. An air of nervousness bled from her agitated breaths and fidgeting fingers, which remained focused on some kind of cloth she was knitting. We’d been in the air nearly half an hour now, and between her anxious jitters and my haunting recollections, neither of us could find the relaxation we were hoping for. A sudden gust of wind caused the plane to drop, sending her grip to the armrest and the cloth to her lap. The pilot quickly got on the radio to inform us that there would be a little turbulence, that it was normal, and everything would be fine. I gave a light-hearted chuckle as the squeezing of my stomach broke me of my thoughts, but the woman was less forgiving of the situation.

“Jesus, you better be right.” She cut through with a heaving breath.

Her husband was unphased, remaining asleep despite his cramped positioning. I felt bad for her, so I leaned over and tried to sooth her fear.

“It’ll be alright. I’ve flown this way before, and it happens occasionally.”

“I’d be happier if it never happened at all.” She griped. I flashed a close-lipped smile and returned to my thoughts.

“Sorry,” She continued. “I just, I’m not used to flying. This is the second time I’ve ever flown.”

“No, I get it. Flying can be, well, it’s flying.”

A smile crossed her lips, exposing two rows of perfectly aligned dentures underneath. “Yeah, that’s for sure.”

The hum of the engines filled several seconds before she addressed me again.

“So, James, is it?”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you going to Mexico, James? Is it your first time?”

“No, actually it’s my second. What about you? Just married?” I quipped.

“Oh, please!” She slapped the air playfully. “If I were going to get married at this age, I would have gone for a man at least ten years younger.”

“Ah. Because of… you know?” I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth, but she seemed rather amused.

“If it were about you know, I’d have found a man who didn’t need pills to do the job.”

“Right.” I couldn’t help but smile. “Totally understand. So why are you going to Mexico?”

“Our granddaughter lives in Puerto Vallarta. She calls herself an expat? I don’t really know what that is, but she won’t shut up about the place, so we wanted to see it for ourselves. Plus, we never had a honeymoon, so this is the closest we’re ever going to get.”

“Aw. How long have you been married?”

“Forty-four years last week.”

“Really? So, you’re pretty new to this then?”

“James. Stop… In reality, he always promised that he’d give me fifty of the happiest years of my life.”

“And?”

“He did.” She grinned. “We’ve had our rough patches, sure, but we never quit on each other.”

“And after fifty… Another fifty more?”

“Only if it’s with another man! I gave him the first five decades, but I want the last five with Ricky Ricardo, or that Fabio guy. Now he’s a hunk.”

We laughed, and I could see her tension releasing, so I undid my seat belt and shifted to the aisle seat.

“You said this is your second time?” She asked.

“Yeah.” I slowly replied.

“Yeah?” She mimicked me. “And what happened the first time?”

“Oh, that’s kind of a long story.”

“Sweetheart, I’m almost seventy. Long stories and sitting around are some of my favorite pastimes.”

“Ok.” I was hesitant. “Well, I was depressed, and I lost my will to keep pursing my dreams.”

“Oh, wow. And what were your dreams?”

“I wanted to be a writer. Well, a storyteller. I never had the skills to be the next Shakespear or Christie, but I’ve always had a lot of ideas. So, I thought I would try it out. Unfortunately, publishers didn’t feel that I had what it took. It was three years of my life that I gave everything to, and it fell through… so I fell with it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, me too. I really loved writing. But anyways, I had a little bit of money left, and in the depths of a two-week bed-ridden stupor, I realized that if I didn’t do anything to shake things up, I would end up dying in that bed.”

The woman gave an interested nod, so I continued.

“I bought a plane ticket to one of the biggest Mexican cities that I saw on Google Maps, hopped on a bus to the nearest international airport, and left with nothing but a small backpack, two pairs of clothes, and a toothbrush.”

“You can’t be serious? That’s all?”

“That was it. The funny thing was, while I was waiting at the gate, I was surrounded by sea of Hispanics, right? But, laying across a row of chairs was man whose skin was as pale as paper, wearing a safari hat and reading a book on Buddhism. It was the damndest thing, honestly. Then, when he saw me, he sat straight up and gave me a wave. I was already nervous, because this was the first time I’d ever left the country, and here’s this whiter-than-white guy who couldn’t have painted himself more like a tourist, who was just waving at me.

“So, as you probably guessed, he stood up and came right over. His name was Fred, and apparently his wife was a Mexican gal who taught Spanish and English. He told me that he’d met her while he was travelling the world as a professor, fell in love, and that they’d just finalized their move into her mother’s house, which is why he was going down there.”

“He told you all that?”

“Grace, I didn’t even have to ask. He was just one of those guys who loved to talk. Which turned out to be in my favor because the moment we landed in Guadalajara, I found out that my phone didn’t work outside of the states.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh, yes. I sat there in my seat panicking as we waited to get off the plane, staring at the words ‘Service Unavailable’ on my phone. Mind you, I knew zero Spanish. And –“

“Wait, you went to Mexico without knowing any Spanish?”

“Yeah, well, I was a little impatient to start my new adventure.”

“Just a little? You went to a different country with nothing but some clothes and a toothbrush and didn’t even bother learning the language…”

“And how much of the language do you know?” I poked.

She hesitated a moment. “Alright, you win. So, what did you do?”

“Well, I don’t know if it was divine intervention or what, but Fred had been seated directly in front of me on the plane. As he was gathering his bags, I asked if he’d be able to help me get to my hotel. Thankfully, he was more than willing, even helped me trade in some of my money for Mexican pesos. We shared a cab, and he made sure I arrived at my hotel safely. Before leaving, he showed me where to get a phone that would work, gave me his number, and invited me out for lunch with his wife sometime in the next week.”

“That sounds like a blessing.”

“Yeah, one that I haven’t forgotten. I just wish it was the only hiccup I experienced on the trip.”

Just then a stewardess came by with refreshments. I ordered a coffee and crackers, while Grace ordered an orange juice and cookies. She looked towards her husband, about to tap him on the shoulder, but shrugged and told the stewardess that he’d live. After getting our refreshments, Grace set her OJ on the flap-down tray, broke open her cookie bag and beckoned me to continue.

“So, what other hiccups did you have?”

I shook my head. “For one, I realized that the Boy Scout in me was a lying little bugger who had no idea how to navigate a city he’d never been in. My second day there, I got lost. And I mean, lost.”

“No.” Grace blurted through a mouthful of crumbs.

“Yup. I stayed inside the hotel for the rest of the first day, too scared to leave after what happened at the airport. It’s a funny thing, being in place where everyone stares at you because you’re so different from what they’re used to seeing. And then, when you want to say something, even the tiniest thing, no one can understand you. Fred helping me was a God-send, but ultimately, it showed me how unprepared I was, which is why I didn’t venture out till the second day.

“Venturing out, however, turned into one of the scariest moments of my life. The city streets were narrow, the traffic was crazy, and outside of the main drags, no side roads had and street signs to guide me. I had no working phone, no GPS, nothing except this little map of the city I’d printed before I arrived. I thought I was being clever, which only made me look like an idiot as I was walked around aimlessly for three hours with a stupid sheet of paper in my hand.”

“Good lord. Why didn’t you ask for directions?” Then a revelation unhinged her jaw. “That’s right, no Spanish.”

“No Spanish. Exactly. Now, eventually I found a taxi driver who understood enough broken English to take me back to my hotel, for about ten-times what it would have costed anyone else. By lunch, I had burned through most of my daily money, and still didn’t know where I was. I stayed inside the hotel for the rest of the day, only getting dinner, which was a taco stand that had setup out front.”

Another stream of turbulence shook the plane, and as Grace gripped the armrest again, I placed my hand over hers. She patted it with her free palm, then took a long sip of her juice. A deep breath and gentle smile acted as my cue to return to my story.

“The third day happened to be a Sunday, and at this point, my convictions about the whole trip were being tested – hard. When I went down to find something for breakfast, the receptionist called me over and informed me, through the translator on her phone, that on Sundays, the city closes off one of the main roads so that people can walk or ride their bikes without the fear of traffic. Apparently it was an idea that originated from Brazil. Naturally, I was intrigued, especially when I found out that it was only two blocks up, so I felt confident that I could find my way back.

“I found the street she was talking about pretty quickly. Barricades had blocked off the traffic from the side roads, leaving this seven-mile stretch of concrete totally open for everyone to enjoy. Tens of thousands of people were either walking or bike riding, with vendors set up at various points along the path. It was remarkable, and I had to explore it. I think it was the first time I’d felt any sense of grounding since I landed. So, I followed the crowd. I walked and walked, taking in the buildings and the culture. There were churches which were unbelievably beautiful Grace, as if God sculpted them himself, and artists who blew my mind. The things they could do, it was incredible… At least, until…”

“No.” Grace’s excitement receded into a sympathetic lip pout.

“Yes. I had to use the restroom and remembered seeing some port-o-potties a few blocks back. I rushed down the road and, you know, did my business. Well, the handle on the door unlatched from the door, and I couldn’t get out.”

Grace was less-than-gracefully restraining a laugh, which only furthered the nostalgic embarrassment. Though, I figured I’d come this far, so I had to finish the story.

 “I pounded and pounded, screaming for help, but of all the people that were around, no one came. It was nearly noon by this point, and almost ninety-five degrees. The heat inside was unbearable. I took out my phone and quickly dialed the local emergency number, but when the woman answered, I couldn’t get her to understand a lick of English… For a moment, I thought I was going to have some kind of heat stroke and die in that thing – Elvis style.”

“Oh, you poor thing. But seeing as how you’re here, I’m assuming you got out.”

“Yes, yes. Eventually, a group of kids heard my yelling, and after several moments of obvious giggling at the American idiot, they helped me out of it. I stepped onto that pavement feeling this abysmal sense of shame. And if that wasn’t enough, on my way back to the hotel, a bird shit on me…”

Grace almost spit out the juice she’d taken a sip of, choking on the acid in her throat as her belly couldn’t hold back the laugh any longer. The whole plane heard her belted cackles, and in a brief moment of empathy towards my own soul, I even joined in. As we caught our breath, and after an annoyed glare by her awakened husband, we found our words again.

“James, you beautiful thing! I haven’t laughed like that in a long time. Thank you.”

“Well, anytime my pain can bring some joy, I’ll welcome it.”

“A bird, of all things.”

“The best part is, it only hit my nose. Nothing else, as if it were a sniper.”

Grace chuckled some more.

“You know, the one thing that I can’t figure out is, after all that, why are you going back?”

“Because I haven’t gotten to the best part yet…”

“Do tell.”

“Well, that night was terrible, obviously, and I fell back into my depression. I questioned the whole thing, wondering why the hell I went there in first place. What was supposed to be this grand adventure turned into a daily episode of the Three Stooges. I ordered my ticket home, making it for the following Wednesday because the tickets were cheaper. But then, just before I went to sleep, I got a text from Fred. I told him what happened and so he invited me to lunch at his house the next day. His wife was inviting one of her students, so he thought that maybe I could make a friend.”

“A friend?”

“Grace, patience.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Now, originally, I didn’t want to go, but something inside of me wanted to enjoy at least one semi-normal day before I returned to the states. The next morning came and went, and in the afternoon, I ordered an Uber to Fred’s house. He lived in this huge hacienda on the edge of a mountain, like something right out of movie. It was the home of his wife’s mother, a family heirloom, but still. Fred answered the door, let me in, walked me down the staircase, and I saw a set of eyes that changed my life.”

“Ooh, I knew it!” Grace waved her hands wildly.

“Yeah, she was it – skin like a warm cappuccino, eyes like pools of pure love, the kind that could reach down and heal the deepest scars in your heart. She knew very little English, but we still ended up talking for over an hour on the back patio, broken sentences and childish giggles. Fred came and told us that they’d decided to go somewhere else for lunch, and that we could all ride together, but she turned and asked me if I’d ever been to Tlaquepaque, this little part of the city which was labeled a ‘magic town.’ I told her no, and she asked if I wanted to go there instead, just us… The words found my lips before I could even think about it, and we spent the rest afternoon together. We shared a meal, then found a small bench in the middle of this garden area, discussing dreams and hobbies and culture.

“At the end of the night, we took the train back to her neighborhood. We got off a few blocks from her house, where she insisted she walk home alone. I didn’t like it, but I respected her stern request, though, not before buying her a bouquet of her favorite flowers to remember me by. It was the perfect day, Grace, with the perfect woman.”

Grace was blushing, her dentures nearly popping out through her smile.

“Unfortunately for me, I’d spent the last of my money on my tickets, so I had to return. It was the definition of a bittersweet moment. But I made her a promise that I’d find my way back, and here I am, two months later, flying to Mexico because after everything it did to make my life a living hell, it also gave me the greatest gift I could never have imagined.”

“Love?” Grace nodded, her eyes watered.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Love.”