Allow Me

     Allow me to introduce you to my mother and father, at one of those perfect moments in time , when they were young , newly married, and on a wonderful adventure.

This photograph was taken in Tecalitlan in the state of Jalisco in Mexico.  The year was 1950.

My father had just been hired by the USDA to travel on horseback up into the mountains of the area, to visit  ranches and landowners and inspect and vaccinate their cattle for hoof and mouth disease.

Every Monday morning he set out from what was then the village of Tecalitlan , traveling completely on horseback, and he did not return until Friday evening. Traveling with him was his partner from the village of Tecalitlan , a man named Malachias. The vaccine was stored in blocks of ice and sawdust on the backs of mules that traveled with them. My father and Malichias camped out throughout the week and accepted rancher’s offers of hospitality, either in sheds, barns, or out in the open air. Their meals?  Frijoles a la jarra.

He was 24 and my mother was 18. 

They grew up in South Texas, and other than my father’s stint in the Army and in Korea, this was far removed from their experience.

What did my mother do all week while he was gone?

Why play canasta and learn to speak Spanish of course.  The women of the hotel where they lived adopted her and included her in their activities.  She became a life master at bridge later in her life, based perhaps on her early days of laughing and playing cards in the courtyard of a humble Mexican hotel.

My father told me yesterday that they saved every single paycheck and lived solely on their government per diem.  They used the money they saved to buy their first farm land. And so it began.

Their stay in Mexico was perhaps shorter than planned.  My mother became pregnant with me. They used the truck in the photograph to make their way to Guadalajara ,where they flew back to Texas on a government plane. That truck had an open air cab. Imagine bouncing along on rural roads in Mexico, exposed to the elements, making your way back home.

I have always known that at some time, in some place, I belong in Mexico. I was first there with my mother and my father.