The Little Messes

nearly avoiding catastrophe

I felt a sneeze coming on and had a mouthful of coffee. I’ve always been sort of slow on the swallowing, lots of hesitation. A sneeze and a swallow is a tall order and thankfully I turned away from laptop, made it 2 steps and blew brown all over the bathroom door and wall. Random pause and clean up. But better than…

Doing that in a restaurant.

Doing that in a car.

In front of someone.

Having it be more than coffee.

Spraying my computer.

A win in pocket at only 6am, on this, the second year anniversary of being here, in Nowhere. Many months of non stop traveling and driving across countries and then nothing, in Nowhere. It could have been so much worse the police said. We don’t see many survive a crash like that. Gracias a dios. People came out to stare at me from distant farms. We heard the impact they said. Is that the senora?

So lucky. I walked away with only bruises and fear, the lady who hit me with no brakes and no insurance got a whole new car and nary a scratch, I found my dogs in the vacant desert after 2 days. I found a place to rest and then a place to rent for a time because without a car…it would be complicated getting out of here. And then months went by and now years. I stopped trying to get out of here after a while because it felt like I was watching a seedling every day and wondering when it would be an oak tree.

I threw myself into other things and it’s really hard to think of your special diet desires (parmesan, Greek olive oil, sea salt with no silica, goat cheese, grassfed beef!) when scooping up dog remains or trying to get close enough to an abused pup to pull the fat ticks off her head. Gee I wish I had an aperol spritz right now! Never crosses my mind.

But I’m admitting that it’s hard to keep up a level of Gracias a Dios gratitude some days and I’m ashamed. How quickly we forget if not presented with tiny vignettes of Whoa, that was CLOSE. Whew! There are no wildfires, floods, active shooters. No complaints!

I’m reminded that gratitude is a practice before it becomes a habit.

Did my old dog bite me because I moved my foot while she slept under my desk? Yes. Did it break the skin? No. Do I have a view or any good places to eat in town? No. Do I have AC and constant water with good pressure and a fenced property that is safe? (Not always easy finds in off the beaten path Mexico) Yes.

Tuesday, I got a call from a local who knew a guy who heard from a lady that I was looking for a pick up or a van. I wasn’t aware that there was a bulletin out but I’ve been sitting here for 2 years maybe someone noticed. I’ve let go of buying a plated car here, it’s not possible nor could I take it to other states or across the border so just a beater car like they drive here with no plates and maybe no back windshield for $500 to take the dogs to the beach on the east side of town, and haul kibble to the Chihuahua gang out past the palapas. Walking 2 miles through the roughest part of town is not recommended even if it’s not in 100+ heat.

Sure! I’ll go look at a little Nissan, why not.

It all got sketchy and goofy Mexican style, fast. The guy was in Tijuana, the car was at his mom in law’s, some cousin had the keys but she’d be home at 3. Did I know where the bakery was? Tonitos? No the other one. There’s another bakery? Yea, Don Fernando’s brother behind the ice factory. it’s parked on the other side of that.

Jesus Christ.

Oh and it doesn’t have any gas but you can look at it. Or bring 100 pesos and a gas can and that will be enough to start it and I’d keep it but I have another job and they gave me a truck and if you want it you should send me a deposit and other red flags that savvy American car buyers don’t fuck with. Sure it’s a clean title.

The carne asada guy was fascinated and it was a day off for him so the wife told him to drive me over there, it’s behind Judy’s tienda, you know the one.

We passed street horses, dirty naked toddlers roaming the 2 lane highway, standing water for some reason in places which haven’t seen rain in a full year. My heart sank at all the “other side of town” strays that I used to feed. I’m over here now with 12 fat and happy hounds eating bones and sitting in air conditioning. AIR CONDITIONING. I saw one dog Cupcake that I remember from before, the rest of the dogs were new and more were pitties chained on short chains inside tiny “patios” and other dogs that could barely lift their heads from the heat to even bother barking. It took me back to 2 years ago when I first got here and stepped over dead bloated dog bodies on a daily. I cried all the time.

Oh, I said to the carne asada guy. We are on the NICE side of town aren’t we.

Yep.

He laughed a lot on our short trip. He pointed to the truck, in all of it’s flat tired, dust covered, broken windshield glory. “Excellent condition” the guy had said.

“You want me to stop?”

Nah.

Mexicans can be like NYC rental agents. There’s a lot of light from the alley way and you could get a king size bed in here if you don’t open the door and it’s a ninth floor walk up. Only 12 blocks to the F train…A steal at $4200. And you’re literally standing right there in a dark, 10x12 closet.

Folks in this pueblo don’t clean a house before they show it, or set the table before you come for dinner, or shop, or cook. Restaurants don’t keep hours, stores don’t carry the merchandise they advertise and no one is going to know which relative has the key to show you the car, the apartment, the shop.

The carne asada guy said it’s probably not even that guy’s truck! Really?

Really.

Did he think I’d just transfer money to him?

Sure! Idiots assume that you are an idiot too, ya know.

We went back the way we came and got out and talked to the street horses. Do they belong to anyone? I asked an old grizzled man sitting on a broken bus seat under a bent umbrella. Sabes… he shrugged and laughed a toothless grin and took a sip of beer.

Gratitude.