When Mexico is adorable it is wonderfully so. Children chasing chickens in the yard, festivals of colors and lights and saints, spontaneous parades, palm trees, colonial architecture and cheap delicious street food are all undeniably very good things. But when Mexico is awful*, it is terribly so. We’ve discussed how there is not really anything you can do to fight it. In fact, the more you flail (metaphorically speaking) the more Mexico fights back, and it fights not fair. We’ve built a fortress of comfort so high maintenance it requires constant upkeep and occasionally falters under its own weight. Hanging a hammock is easier and more appropriate, but simply not our style.
The terrible storm that rocked us last Wednesday and knocked out power in half the house reminded us that we are fighting a losing battle. Mexico and Mother Nature conspire regularly to keep us humble. In ninth grade we learned about hubris. About men who flew too close to the sun. We were taught the names of the gods who were angered and that the lesson for humankind was…no wax wings? The moral of the story is lay low and don’t get cocky.
But we’re Americans, by gum shoe! And we believe in progress! We’re manifest destiners: adventurous of spirit and industrious of hand! We’re going to do something and do it right; nose to the grindstone, grist for the mill and other axioms of grit and profit and New England resolve. We are unwilling to be beaten by the elements and we work constantly to improve our conditions, to a point slightly beyond what the infrastructure is able to support. We’re installing 220 on the back of 110 and then we’re going to wrap some electrical tape around it all and shine a big ass spot light on it and call it Christmas in July, even when it’s March.
We’re not trying to tempt fate or usurp the glory of any pantheon of gods. We just want a nice life. We feel entitled to it. Because we’re Americans and it is the dream. And we are willing sweat and toil in the sun some. We’re not building skyscrapers in the sand, God-taunting Babel towers or Melmac-inspired architectural eyesores. It’s just a little house of awesome with all the creature comforts our hearts desire. If everyone could cooperate for a few months longer that would be terrific. In summary, I’m bored of Nortes and more grateful for electricity than I ever realized. Mexico is a fantastic place to visit, a state of mind a respite for the weary soul. But I’m ready for a change for the less vivid – hurry up months and fly, it’s time!
* though better than say, Libya