Dear Old Mexico | My Family Travels
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San Antonio, Texas, only fourteen hours left until we reach Acatic, Jalisco in Mexico.  I try to stretch my legs and body which have been cramped in my seat for too long–about eight hours to be exact.  I look to my left only to find my youngest sister in her car seat sound asleep holding her favorite battered teddy bear.  I keep silent because nobody wants to deal with my cranky little sister on a long road trip.    My mind randomly wanders from thought to thought as the trees, grass, passing cars, and occasional billboard swirl by disappearing in the distance.  All the drivers appear to be so sure of journeying south that I begin to wonder if the place we are travelling to is worth the tortuous and tedious journey.  

Acatic is a tiny picturesque town in southwest Mexico surrounded by luscious green fields of crops.  My family and I have been returning there every summer since I was eight years old.  Most of the houses are old and made of brick, the streets are dusty and full of street bumps, and somebody is always outside on the sidewalk purely enjoying life’s simple pleasure of relaxing.  I used to find it very odd that people walk to do their errands instead of driving there.

 Everybody seems to know everybody in this tiny town and they can definitely distinguish a person that is visiting from the United States from the crowd.  That is why I prefer to be out of town on my grandparents’ modest farm.  The cows, chickens, dogs, and cats may look at me with wondering eyes at first but after a while they resume their usual roaming around. I love to hear my grandfather’s laughter when he retells the story of how he met my grandmother.  When he was about twelve years old, he took his new bike out for a ride when he accidentally ran over a pretty girl that would someday become his wife. I find the sweet smells that come from my Grandmother’s kitchen to be irresistible.  I like to marvel at the vibrant shades of green, red, and white coming from the patio full of different plants and flowers situated in the middle of their house. 

As I remember all of my vivid cherished memories from my warm summers in Mexico, I realize I absolutely adore the lazy evenings spent sitting outside staring at the star filled sky surrounded by people who care about me.  I decide that just like the passing drivers that seem so sure of journeying south, I too am absolutely convinced of embarking southward.  I yearn to voyage to the small town of Acatic that may seem unattractive in plain sight to anybody else, but to me, it is the place where my parents grew up, my grandparents lived, and my great grandparents planned for their family to grow.  I gained my knowledge of morals, work ethics, and cultural traditions from my visits to dear old Mexico. I am very proud of my poor and simple roots plainly because they make me the blessed person I am today. No matter what happens in the future, I can always picture myself visiting my favorite remote corner of the world. 

 

 

 

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