It's the simple stuff

After a considerable amount of time hanging out in Mexico over the last fifteen years, two January's ago - 2004, my husband Michael and I decided to buy a house. It's not a condo in a gated community, it's a real concrete house, in a real neighborhood, across the street from a school, and 4 blocks from a stunningly beautiful Caribbean beach.

It was the quickest decision we had made in our married life. We'd traveled all over Mexico - thanks to seasonal jobs, I had spent some or most of three winters before I met Michael going to language schools and traveling by bus pretty much across the whole country - and then after we hooked up, his flight benefits (he's a flight attendant) have allowed us to do Mexican trips a few times a year. We loved the country, we loved the people, we loved the climate. So in Nov. of 2003, after visiting Playa del Carmen a few times we thought, yep, this is the place, let's make this more permanent. Let's not be tourists anymore. Let's become a part of this community as well as the one we're a part of in Montana.

But we weren't the only ones thinking that. (the part about buying property, that is.) Playa was experiencing rapid growth. And the cheap places, what we could afford, were going fast. So we came to Playa for a week the following January, and by the 5th day, we bought a house. Two days later we flew back to the states as owners of Mexican property. We glowed, we gleamed, we patted ourselves on the back. "Job well done", we said. Now we will really be able to relax in Mexico. We'll even have time to volunteer when we're there. Give back to the country we had enjoyed for so many years.

Fast forward to today, April 26, 2006. The only 'volunteering' we've done so far is our own - kind of a Habitat for Humanity sort of deal but in our own house. I suppose that doesn't really count, does it? We've gotten to know the local hardware store guys by name. The paint store guys know our favorite colors. My vocabulary has grown to include words like water pump - la bomba - and rebar - varillas. And, a line I already knew, but never had to use - "Can you please, PLEASE come and fix..." (fill in whatever you like here.)

But here's the deal. I am SO not complaining. One of my favorite lines from a Bob Dylan song "Things never turn out the way we had 'em planned" comes to mind here. The experiences we had envisioned are not quite the experiences we're having, but I wouldn't trade a single one of them. (Alright, maybe the whole cockroach thing.)We HAVE become a part of the community here, not just in the way I'd imagined. I mean, we are giving back - so far it's mostly with pesos and thank you's - but that's a start.

As I sit here working, at my Playa desk, I can hear the sounds of Mexico. The water guy on his three wheel bicycle, loaded with 5 gallon jugs of water, rides by and squeaks his horn. The kids at the school across the street are talking and laughing, a teacher says "Callese, por favor!" (Quiet down please!) Someone walks by on the street and sneezes and I yell out, "Salud!" and he returns with,"Gracias!"

It's the simple stuff. You know?