Love at first sight.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

As we get into the car, Eleni says, “My hand is hurting. I can’t sit in my seat today.”

Five minutes later Eleni says, “My bottom is hurting. I can’t sit in my seat any more.”

Handkerchiefs are keeping the children quite busy; they’ve made stuffed people with the cloth, newspaper, the erasers and rubber bands Alex bought yesterday, and magic markers. Currently, they are completely involved in some dramatic sing-a-long that Neil and I can’t follow.

I-10 from Fort Stockton. We've just discovered cruise control. Revolutionary.

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This was labeled as a scenic lookout.

Just some friendly dried up cactus fighting

So, our intention for the day was to keep heading west into New Mexico. Instead, we decided to detour. We used El Paso as a base to visit Mexico. You can see El Paso, Texas and Juanez, Mexico in the distance.

Neil and I have both traveled around the more beautiful landscapes of Mexico, and we knew that this brief visit to a border city of Juarez would not be the best glimpse of our southern neighbor (in the same way that El Paso should not be used as a standard for the USA). But, Alex really wanted to go to Mexico and this seemed the easiest way to do it, for this trip at least.

For $3.00, we parked in the last chance parking lot in El Paso before you traverse the Santa Fe Bridge by car. We crossed over on the pedestrian strip that was covered with barbed-wire fencing and sporadically manned with soldiers.

Graffiti on the USA’s side of the Rio Grande

The Rio Grande - if you look closely, you can see one man in the river and two men next to him.

The first noticeable observation about being in Mexico is the exhaust coming from the traffic that was backed up for at least a mile on Avenue Juarez on the Mexican side of the border. The pollution in both cities must be quite significant, as we saw several billboards addressing air quality issues. We could still feel the smog in our throats an hour after leaving the city.

We walked down the main street, Avenue Juarez, and turned into the market area. We had promised Alex he could pick something out in Mexico, and there was no turning back when we got to this stall. Indeed, it was love at first sight for Alex and this red guitar.

After passing up some maracas and an accordion (that Alex was really pushing for so that he and his sister could create a band together), Eleni found her dream dress. Did she need another dress? No. Did she especially need a sleeveless dress when her mother specifically packed clothes that had sleeves to keep the sun off her shoulders? No. This logic was quickly lost on Eleni. When she found her dress, her first line of reasoning was “Alex got a guitar.” Right. So, our children will forever remember Mexico; they now have a guitar and a dress.

We walked to the center of town and peeked in the Cathedral. While the Cathedral itself was built earlier in the century, the inside is very modern looking. There were many people kneeling in the pews (even on a Tuesday afternoon), several people burning incense candles, and a few women whispering prayers in front of a statue of Jesus. We passed the mission and the museum (closed), and then retraced our steps to the main street.

The Cathedral 

The circular building in the distance is for bull fighting.

Crossing over the border again. This says "Weapons of Mass Destruction" 

The photos I did not take:

The soldier buying pirated DVDs and CDs from three women sitting under an empty storefront. Two other women were walking up and down the traffic-laden street selling contraband, too.

Rows of boot shops…

I didn’t photograph the men standing in front of the pharmacies that strategically line the earlier buildings on main-street. They’re calling out for us to visit their stores and buy the prescription drugs that most Americans buy here for half the cost of the brand names in the USA.

The men and women who reach out and touch Eleni and Alex’s hair.

The woman who followed us for two minutes with a coffee cup in her hand; we didn’t understand her words, but we knew she wanted money. Just as we had subtly fished out some change and were ready to put it in her cup, she veered into an alleyway. Looking ahead, we understood why. We saw the police.

The women and children overseeing the portable stands of ice-chests filled with watermelon, orange, and pineapple juice.

I didn’t photograph the easy smiles from people passing by on the street.

The café we sat in for almost an hour watching people go by on the street. I didn’t photograph the two men who walked up to us with guitars in hand ready to play for us. We declined their invitations, and tried to pretend for a little longer that we fit in here.

The Mexican girl that Alex fell in love with. He watched her while he strummed his guitar at the café and finally worked up the courage to go up to her and say one of the Spanish words he knows from school, “Ola.” He brought Eleni along with him for emotional support, and he brought his guitar along with him because he had to. “How else will she know I love her?”

I didn’t photograph the smile on Alex’s face as he ran away from her.

The teenage boy spread-eagled against a storefront while one policeman searched him and other questioned him.

I didn’t, but maybe I should have photographed the Mexican soldier policing the bridge who asked me to take his photo.

This is just around the corner from Immigration. You can see the bridge we walked over in the background and the barbed wire around the border patrol building. You should also notice the guitar in Alex's hands and Eleni's new dress!

Exhausted, we left Mexico around 4:30, just before the rush hour. It took around 20-minutes to get to our motel, and it shouldn’t be too hard to guess what we listened to on the way…Alex experimenting with his guitar. His first hit wonder was “Davy Crockett died in a war in Texas, a war in Texas, a war in Texas. Oh, Davy Crockett died in a war in Texas….” You get the idea. It was endearing for about 2 minutes. We ate dinner at a place named Chihuahua, and many of you know how dear this word is to our family.