Love in Mexico

Navigating family and place


Morelia, Michoacán, Mexico
December 31
This blog documents the encounters and events that taught me about Mexico, and about the culture of family, Mexico's and my own. .............................................… Find more of my work at ........................................... Thanks for reading.


Editor’s Pick
JUNE 2, 2011 12:47PM

Adiós to Mexico

Rate: 16 Flag


My keyboard looks like a pirate’s maw, gaping holes that were once keys, stains on others, and its hard drive is jammed full of photographs: pyramids, pink stone, parades, fireworks behind cathedral spires, and hundreds of hotel rooms I could never afford on a hotel reviewer’s income. My clothes are ragged (who knew clothing in Mexico was so expensive?!), and so is this body that still shows of pregnancy and has not been for a jog, ridden a bike, or seen the inside of a yoga studio in so many months. My son picks up the phone and says ¿bueno?, calls tanker trucks pipas, and prefers chongos over all other flavors of ice cream. My husband is pulling out his eyebrow hairs, one by one, frustrated that the product of his fieldwork looks so different from the proposal that won him so many fancy grants a year ago. And the baby, fat and giggly and so eager to be cooed over and pinched by señoras in the streets, at last has all of the paperwork he’ll need to enter the U.S., his newborn eyes crossed in the picture in his crisp, blue American passport.

Which is all to say that, it is time to leave Mexico. To go home, I’d say, but “home” doesn’t really exist anymore for academics under forty. Mexico is one of four countries we’ve lived in since my husband and I aligned our itineraries: if getting tenure means we have to outsource ourselves to universities in Dubai or Tel Aviv or São Paolo, we will. Next up: I’ve been granted a one-year writer-in-residency at a university in the northeast. I’ll write a book and teach. My husband will write his dissertation. My kids will learn to live with cows and snow.

 Goodbye loveinmexico, hello love(ideally)inthelandofperpetualgrayness.

We are fortunate for this future, but it is hard to remember this because what is to come can’t actually be known. What is more poignant is the gratitude I feel for the recent past.

If I were a better poet, I would write an ode, but since I’m not, I can only say goodbye to Mexico. Goodbye to the workers building the hotel across the street—painting it a rich brick orange and then butter-cream and then orange again, and laughing off the owner’s fickleness as the opportunity for more work. Goodbye to the smiling baker rolling dough all day in the panaderia. Goodbye to the trash man ringing his bell and asking, for the third time this week, if my children are still growing, reminding me that we still falta la niña, lack the girl. Goodbye to Juan, who teaches me about fruit, and his boss, Don Pepe, who throws in a free cucumber or jicama para el niño. Goodbye to the grumpy man who sells the long loafs of yeasty bread in the market and never lets my husband buy the wrong kind. Goodbye to the old woman who runs the restaurant on my street where no one ever eats, myself included, and goodbye to the family who run the almost identical restaurant across the street where everyone eats. Goodbye to the writer’s widow who invites us over and explains to us the why of things. Goodbye to the roof dogs, the long-faced hound on one side, the two humping Great Danes on the other. Goodbye to the night stench that wafts in on the breeze. Goodbye to the kinglets who live in the bougainvillea in our garden. Goodbye to hanging laundry on the roof. Goodbye to the quinceañera girls posing in the park and the exchange student selling ice cream. Goodbye to the secretary in the doctor’s office next door who approves (or doesn’t) my infant’s outfit before I leave home. Goodbye to combis and Gas de Lago trucks. Goodbye to Victoria beer, chiles peron, and blue corn tortillas. Goodbye to mangos and limes. Goodbye to pay de queso and sweet hibiscus water. Goodbye to our bumper-dragging VW Pointer. Goodbye butterflies and hummingbirds. Goodbye to Alice’s smiling face at my door, and goodbye to Alfredo’s sorrows. Goodbye to so many holidays, to parades, to balloons and bubbles in the plazas. And goodbye to the teachers at my son’s Montessori whose holistic approach does not stop at the child when his parents are so clearly inept. Goodbye to Dr. O. who delivered my too-soon baby and looked a bit like a matador doing it. Goodbye to that baby’s birthplace. Goodbye to Spanish in my mouth like a handful of marbles. Goodbye to the soldiers and goodbye to their guns. Goodbye to the musicians who sing in the taqueria, and goodbye to the viejitos who dance by the cathedral, and goodbye to the fairy mime, my son’s first love…


Today, I will prepare a despedida for my son at his little school: ice cream and crepes. On Tuesday, his grandmother will fete him welcome: belated birthday cake and a new bike. Transitions are important, I think. And I know there will be sadness between these celebrations. Every day this week my son has packed a box with toys and books and his red shoes.

He’s only three, yet he knows how leaving works. But I don’t think he knows that the best of this life we can’t take with us.


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This is perfectly done. But damnit, I thought there were some months left before you were leaving. I must have misunderstood.
This is so bittersweet. I am so happy for what you and your family were able to experience in Mexico, and congratulations on your residency (and can't wait to read your book!) that will bring you to the northeastern US. And I'm thrilled that your youngest finally has his passport! On the other hand, I will miss your posts on Mexico so much! I've learned countless things about the culture, the food, the overall experience! You taught me to dream of Mexican ceramics, and to be wary. Thank you so much for having shared these experiences - I think they'll stay with us, your readers, too. Have a safe, wonderful transition to the US, and I can't wait to read about your adventures "in the land of perpetual grayness"!
Thanks to everyone who has been reading this series. Save your farewells: there are a few more loveinmex posts to come--mostly out of order bits that are publishing places that take longer than the push of a button to go live. And I have a meta piece in the works about this blog experiment that I hope to finish before we fly.

@ Brassawe, you're right, I'm heading back ahead of schedule in order to pack and move again. My husband stays on to work without "distraction" (aka dirty diapers). It was short, but so sweet!
Beautiful ode to Mexico and life. And fat babies, ahhh.
I enjoy your youth, your spirit of adventure and how easy you roll.
Travel safe dear little family.
Better to leave on your own for your beloved country, where you belong, than be driven out by Mexico's growing anarchy, and the attempt of Mexicans to seize their economy from the oligarchs (although the servants worked for nothing for norteamericanos).
Good luck! I've really enjoyed reading about your experiences as a young family in Mexico. Please keep us posted.
I'm a fellow expat who's been lurking along for a while, keeping up with all your posts... this is a heap of wonderful mini-posts in one! Your adaptability and openness will serve you well in your new position, I'm sure, and great news that your little one is A-OK to travel to the States! Please keep sharing your life with us as time allows.
Brassawe, Alysa, Rita, and Linda--again and again--thank you.

Carl, if we all stay where we belong, however beloved, big walls get built. Whatever Frost thought of good fences, I can't love my neighbor over a big wall.

older new romantic, you must be in cahoots with old new lefty. Thanks for lurking, and thanks for saying hello. Happy travels to you too.
This was very touching. I know how hard it is to leave and how important it can be to go. New horizons await.
I am not a prolific poster, but this new cover schedule means I have a new post up before this EP made cover. It's about the poet Javier Sicilia, whose son was murdered in March. He is leading a protest caravan through Mexico along the "route of terror." He was in my town on Saturday night. This post is mostly pictures of the demonstration.
I know these feelings well...I have so enjoyed reading of your time in Mexico...and look forward to your further adventures...I hope you will share to you...xox
Sounds like poetry to me. Glad to have just discovered you.
I guess you finally got that passport. Congrats.
On to the next adventure! I have enjoyed reading them.
Congrats on the EP!
I only lived there for four months, in Cuernavaca when I was 14, but remember so much of it....your post brings it all back and I know what sorrow you must feel in leaving so much beauty and emotional warmth. You're returning (you know) to a riven, struggling USA right now. Best of luck with the book and your transition!