LandfallVoyages

Every time we walk around town, the many differences between Mexico and the United States strike me anew.

People are kind here. Old people are treated with respect. You step out of their way and wait patiently, everyone does, it’s understood that they are doing their best. Cars, all cars, stop for you so you can walk across the street. They may not stop at any stop signs but they will stop for you, Mr Pedestrian, every time. Children aren’t inconvenient accessories, they are loved, valued, and revered. You don’t hate them, you smile at them. In return, they don’t throw fits in public. Ever.

Food is so affordable. I love street food, it’s one of my main reasons for travelling. Lunch today was 2 Tacos de Asada, grilled over mesquite right before me, and a soda. Total price? $2.60 in dollars, 36 pesos. With homemade tortillas and fresh salsa. Most of the produce is about a third the price in California and the meat is about half. Fish is a quarter to a half of what we’d see back home. Tomatoes taste like tomatoes.

You can do things here and they are legal. You can walk your dog, park a car, fish, ride a bicycle, skateboard, you know, normal stuff, and it’s legal.

There are problems, however. Broken stuff. Every single bathroom in Mexico has something that is broken. Nothing big really, just something. The door hinge or the soap dispenser or the sink leaks or something. Many sidewalks are broken but I like that. If you trip in a hole and break your leg you’re not a plaintiff, you’re a dumbass.

Life is much more relaxing here. I have a Zen theory about this. I read about Buddhism once for a few hours. There are many forms of Buddhism but this particular philosophy dealt a lot with anger, frustration, disappointment, and depression. You know, the opposite of happiness. The book theorized that depression, frustration, and anger come from disappointment. Disappointment comes from expectations. If you expect to win a prize and you don’t then you’re disappointed. If you never played you’re not disappointed because you never expected to win. The end result is the same, only the expectation differed.

Mexico is approximate. Close is usually good enough. You learn to not expect perfect, you expect pretty good and you usually get pretty good. You’re not disappointed with pretty good, you’re happy with it instead.

It’s perfect for me.

I was talking to our boat neighbor, Jim about all of this and he said that several years ago, before all the media coverage about the drug violence in Mexico, this whole town was full of stupid gringos. Everyone back home is worried that it’s too dangerous here but I’ve only seen one angry person in the two and a half months that we’ve been here. Nothing close to violence at all.

Jim likes it better now. He said that he tells everybody back home that he has to step over at least three dead bodies every time he leaves the boat.