What are some things I love about Mexico? For starters . . .
1. The incredible entrepreneurial spirit of the Mexican people. If you have a comal, you, too, can have a business. Or you can buy a 50-kilo bag of dog food and repackage it into 50 one-kilo bags. Got a juicer? You've got a busines! Got a washing machine? You've got a business! I love the hundreds of smaller-than-my-bedroom little tiendas, and men selling pineapples or melons from the back of their pickup. I frequently hear people complain about being annoyed by vendors trying to sell them things. But I think it's great.
2. Closely related to #1: how hard people can work and still remain cheerful. Every day I see workers in the market that I know are putting in 10 and 12-hour days; and yet they are whistling or singing as they haul handcarts piled with 30 crates of tomatoes, or carry heavy bags of mortar on their backs. Young men joking around with each other as they unload the produce truck. (Yeah, I know there is another side to this: "I hired a contractor and he worked 5-hour days when he worked at all, blah blah blah.") But this is the other side of that complaint.
3. The strong sense of family. Entire families out strolling the city together at night. Teenagers walking down the street holding hands with their parents.
4. The heart-stopping beauty of some of the colonial cities. The colors, oh my, the colors!
5. The weight of history. The impossible blend of resignation and optimism. Perseverence in the face of adversity.
6. The celebratory spirit; the willingness to declare a día de fiesta for any reason, or for no reason.
7. Women out sweeping and washing the sidewalks and streets in the morning.
8. No need for an alarm clock--something will wake you up long before the alarm goes off!
9. Those bolillos! Mole. Carnitas. Mounds of brightly colored vegetables everwhere you turn. Pan de elote. Avacado ice cream--seriously? Finding corn kernals embedded in my strawberry ice cream bar.
There's plenty more, but those will do for now. And as for the reason I don't leave Mexico . . . I adopted a Mexican street cat (thrown out in the trash at three weeks of age) and she refuses to leave Mexico. Heck, she refuses to leave the window sill, let alone the country.
Walk a thousand miles in their shoes before passing judgement.
Last edited by TurtleToo; 13th July 2019 at 03:48 AM.