Mexico: '67 Lime Gold Mustang

At first I just got a glimpse out of the corner of my eye, a flash of an unusual color near the cathedral plaza in San Cristobal, one known to me as lime gold.  It was the color of my first car, a 1967 Mustang.  I turned and there it was.  I walked over, and stared.  Wow.  It wasn't mine, of course.  This one was an automatic.and had special speakers on the rear window deck.  But it was the same year, and the same color.OK, it had been repainted, of course, and the color was a bit off, but still...my first car.

Driving with my roommates down to the Cape for the weekend.  Trotting across the beach at Falmouth to feed the parking meter, digging it out of snow.  The morning my fance and I woke up and realized the parking space that we had shoveled out the week before was empty, the car had been stolen. Picking it up ten days later down near Providence, with no appreciable damage done.

I loved that car. I called her Matilda.

USA: The Proportions of Money

The proportions of money, or rather the things it buys, get all out of sync when you are living or traveling in another country.

Normally, accommodation is the biggest daily expense, whether we pay on a mortgage, rent an apartment, or stay in a hotel or motel. In Thailand, my food and snacks are by far my biggest expense. So, if I have really cheap street food, and pay 20 baht for pad thai, and 10 baht for a bottle of water, I have spent one-fifth of a night's accommodation costs. If I have pasta (100 baht) and a Diet Coke (20 baht), I have spent nearly four/fifths of the cost of a room for the night. A beer or a glass of wine instead of the Diet Coke, and now I've eaten a night's expenses.

I've had to adjust. I try to measure things in terms of food, rather than in terms or room costs. Looked at this way, my room in Chiang Mai cost me five street-food meals or one pasta meal with wine. A tuktuk ride cost 50 baht, or three store-bought Diet Cokes and a really cheap ice cream bar.

Working put another spin on it. I get paid 400 baht for two hours in the classroom. Subtract the 100 baht I spent round-trip, and I made 150 baht an hour. Now, suddenly, I'm working an hour to pay for my room, and worse, I'm working an hour to pay for a pasta dish and a glass of wine.

Travel on to another country, and the proportions change again.  In Mexico, long distance bus fares are more of a factor.  While the buses are great, they are so relatively expensive that for really long trips it can be cheaper to fly.  The bus fare for a five hour ride costs as much as two nights in a dorm on Isla Mujeres.  The bus fare for a five hour ride in Ecuador costs less than one night in a dorm in Quito. 

As a child, I measured money in popsicles. A comic book cost two popsicles.  A paperback book cost fiive.  Even those proportions have changed.

USA: Fear of Rice

One day a couple of years ago, just before returning from a year in Asia, I was walking along a street in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, I looked into a Chinese restaurant and quickly turned away.  I couldn't go in. For over four years, I had spent a huge amount of time in countries where rice is a part of every meal. I'd had rice nearly every day, and for the past year, I often had it twice a day.

Now, suddenly, the idea of sitting down to a Chinese or Indian or even Mexican meal that included rice filled me with a feeling that can only be described as, well, fear. I'd developed a fear of rice!

Kentucky Fried Chicken and the A&W became my favorite restaurants. No rice.

When I arrived back in the US, even hearing or seeing the word made me cringe. I had to ask some of my friends to shift from our usual meeting place, an Indonesian restaurant, to someplace with a different cuisine, like Italian. Raoul, who loves rice, figured my fear was a good reason to eat out a lot, when usually he likes to cook. He had a cupboard full of noodles, so I didn't quite understand his reasoning. Maybe he just was hunting for an excuse, and I provided it.  But I didn't have to face rice.

My next trip would be to Central America, where gallo pinto (rice and beans) comes with everything.  The idea was a little unnerving. After I'd been away from rice for nearly three months, I was able to face my fears and have the Cajun rice at Popeyes.

After a couple of months, the fear returned.  Once I arrived in Panama, it was easy to avoid.  I could get everything here that I can get at home. On a typical day, I'd use the free wi-fi at a place called New York Bagel. I could have a bratwurst for lunch. And on my first night, I ordered a pizza from Domino's.

Now I'm considering a return to Asia. What will happen to me then?Will the fear return? Will I develop a fear of noodles?

Mexico: Something to Aim For

I've been thinking back on my Mexico trip, reminiscing a bit.

The woman in the bed next to mine went home at the end of January, winding up a month-long break from the Michigan winter. She won't be home for long though, because at the beginning of March she will leave again. This time she would spend three months traveling with a friend through Argentina and Chile, with a brief stop in Brazil to visit Iguazu Falls. She backpacks, staying in hostels and guesthouses, cooking her meals and doing her laundry by hand, roughing it more than I do.

And in between the two departures, she will celebrate her 77th birthday.

Now, just in case you think she might be overly ambitious with her travel plans, in the past few years she and her friend traveled through Eastern Europe for three months, and spent three months seeing Australia and New Zealand. She mentioned other trips, one to Kruger National Park in South Africa, two trips to China, and many previous trips here. She talked about how much she likes Norway, and there was something about ferries in Scotland.

She does't like to plan too far ahead, but she does have a couple of trips in mind. She wants to visit western China (she takes tours there, because of the language difficulties), and maybe do a road trip in the US, to visit all the Frank Lloyd Wright buildings. But, she told me, she's saving that for when she's old.

Note:  I wrote this a while ago and recently came across it in an orphaned folder.  I am not currently in Mexico.

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