Mi gente
Even though I was born in Mexico City and lived along the northern border for years, I didn't have the opportunity to travel around Mexico until I was living and working in Foreign Country.
In 2005, Ex-husband and I went to Mexico City, with my Little Sister. I got to see some family members (and meet others). My parents came as well. That year, I went to see the pyramids outside of Mexico City for the first time in my life. My uncle, my papi, and my aunt were in the cabin of my uncle's covered pick up truck. My Little Sister, my mami, my two nephews and I were in the back, on a mattress, along with two large plants in clay pots. As we bounced along the road towardes the pyramids, I told my Little Sister that this was about as Mexican a trip as she could ever hope to take. She and I tried to teach my nephews to sing the ABCs in English. They got as far as "Elemenopee". Once there, My mami and I climbed to the top of the Sun pyramid - all 248 steps. The view was breathtaking. The Sun pyramid and the Moon pyramid dominate the landscape, and the wide boulevards of the ancient city stretch out in the Mexican countryside.
In 2006, Ex-husband and I went to the Yucatan peninsula. I wanted to see more ruins. I had read about Uxmal in an essay by Barbara Kingsolver (*From the amazing book Small Wonder) and I wanted to see it for myself. We took a quick 5-day trip around the peninsula and we visited about half a dozen sites, including Uxmal, Chichen Itzá, and Tulúm. As we walked through the sites, some quite small, others larger than American college campuses, I would wonder at the fact that this was my country of origin. I came from this. A part of me could claim this heritage as my own. But I never really believed it. I didn't internalize these feelings. I felt like nothing more than a tourist.
In 2007, Ex-husband, my parents and I took a train ride along northern Mexico's Copper Canyon. The train trip itself is approximately 14 hours from the center of Chihuahua to the Gulf of California, but the trip I booked spread it out over 5 days, with stops along the way: in the mountains, at the Copper Canyon, along a river, and at the coast. At one of the stops, we stayed at a hotel that was perched on the side of the canyon, every room with a balcony view. One night, my papi and I stayed up almost all night talking and looking at shooting stars. We watched the sun come up.
In 2009, I rented a condo for a month in Puerto Vallarta. I had just gotten divorced and needed a place to stay. Puerto Vallarta seemed as good a place as any to spend a month post-divorce. The condo was great: 2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms. The living room was missing a wall - there was only an iron gate. There was a soaking pool on the balcony. Since I was in a 2-bedroom condo, I invited anyone who wanted to come visit me. My parents, my aunt, and 3 different friends came to see me. The best part of this month was that everyone who came to visit wanted a different experience out of Puerto Vallarta: my parents and my aunt wanted to mostly stay in the condo, enjoying the soaking pool, talking, eating, and catching up. One friend wanted to have adventures, so we did boat trips and zip lining. Another friend was into nightlife, so we went clubbing. The third friend wanted to relax on the beach. I got to do it all. And being in Puerto Vallarta, we were obligated to drink tequila, so there was that too.
In 2010, I went again to Mexico City, this time by myself. I stayed with my Tia. She was a wonderful tour gide, taking me places I had never been: an indoor botanical garden with stain-glassed windows that depicted different scenes in Mexico; a laser-light theater with a rotating floor that showed a history of Mexico; a museum with peacocks walking in the garden.
I am grateful for the opportunities I had to travel around Mexico. The northern border is by no means a beautiful area. I had no idea just how much Mexico had to offer until I made these trips. And yet... despite being born there and having lived there, I still felt like a visitor as I traveled through these beautiful areas of my country of birth.
I've grown used to this feeling: of being a visitor everywhere I go. I have lived in 11 different cities in 4 different countries. This feeling of belonging nowhere can be scary. Belonging gives us a sense of security. It gives us roots and the comfort of having a place to come back to. It also gives us a community. It links us to people with a shared history. I'm missing that too.
In Mexico, we say "mi gente", which means "my people" to refer to those people that we come from. Mi gente are scattered around the world, and I love that. I have links to many people in many different places, but what we share is not a history. Perhaps we shared a dysfunctional work place. Perhaps we shared a childhood neighborhood. Perhaps we shared the experience of high school. I collect mi gente as I make my way through life. I struggle to stay in touch with them, but I am reminded that friendships like these don't measure time the normal way. I have conversations with friends through Facebook messenger that take place over months. Sometimes I scroll through our messages and see that I haven't contacted this friend in a couple of years. Might be time for an update.
Mi gente who are really mi gente know. Our messages will usually begin, "I'm so sorry I haven't written in so long!" and they will usually include "I love you" in there somewhere.
To all mi gente out there, I'm so sorry I haven't written in so long. I love you.
