My First Trip to Mexico

This month, I finally traveled to Chihuahua to meet Chris' maternal grandparents.  I had been apprehensive about traveling in Mexico for quite some time.  Prior conversations about traveling to Mexico usually consisted of Chris telling me it is safe to drive to Chihuahua and me disagreeing.  I knew things were serious when, after talking to his mother about his grandmother's health, Chris informed me that he would book plane tickets to Chihuahua.

In the end, we both compromised on the travel arrangements.   We  drove across the border to a nearby airport and then flew to Chihuahua city.  The first flight left from a very small airport in Mexico, so small that passengers boarded the plane by walking out on the runway to a set of stairs attached to the plane's door.  Had I been any taller, I would have been too tall to stand upright inside the plane.  

After a brief layover in Mexico City, Chris and I arrived in Chihuahua city, where Chris' parents met us and drove us south to Valle De Zaragoza, the small town where Chris' family lives.  Although the next three and a half days moved at a slower pace than life in the United States, the days were full of new experiences.

I saw the humble house where Chris' grandparents have lived for many, many years.  The wood-burning oven was used to make empanadas, the women made homemade cheese from fresh cow's milk, and I drank water filtered through a bowl-shaped stone in the kitchen.

The house where Chris' grandparents live.

The stone that filters water.

Making cheese: boil fresh milk, strain out the curds, squeeze
out as much liquid as possible, mix in salt, and press together.

I saw the old arches carrying water into town as part of the aqueduct system.  I ate ice cream in the town plaza.  I relaxed by the river.  I feasted at Tia Mimi's popular loncheria (lunch counter), which features burritos, tortas, and hamburgers.  I went swimming at a relative's beautiful cabin.  I rode an ATV into the dessert.  I snacked on freshly picked peaches.  I woke up to the rooster's crow.  I ate beans and fresh eggs for breakfast.  I saw lots of animals, including a pair of dogs who chased and rounded-up a large herd of cows at the command of Chris' uncle Jose.

Lots of animals!

Mimi at work, and one of her burgers.

Tio Jose uses this large, red rattle to scare the cows.

The arches and aqueduct, the river, ruins, and a small church.

Relaxing by the river after a dusty afternoon on an ATV.

I went to Parral for a day to visit an old mansion, the Pancho Villa museum, and the place where Pancho Villa was fatally shot.  I was the only one in the group offered the "Mexican Photo Op" at the museum, which required me to step into one of the exhibits, don a serape, and hold a large gourd while everyone watched me.

Streets of Parral.

Palacio Alvarado

I unknowingly joined a group destined for the sobador, a traditional healer who uses rubs and massages to treat people's ailments.  The sobador was located off a steep and narrow alley between a row of small stucco buildings.  The office consisted of  two small rooms joined by a doorless passageway.  The first room, a waiting room, was so small, the entrance was so short, and the furniture was so large that it is possible the room was built around the furniture.  The second room contained matching twin beds, a stool, and some shelves with a variety of homemade rubs.  From the waiting room I watched the sobador provide adjustments to everyone in the group, some of whom had saved up their ailments for this trip to Mexico.  After watching the sobador's rough techniques, hearing the cries of pain, and seeing the industrial engineering degree on the wall, I passed on the offer for my own adjustment.

The sobador.

The highlight of the weekend for Chris's family was the mother's day fiesta at a ranch owned by one of Chris' uncles.  The party took place under a grouping of large trees in an alfalfa pasture. Mariachis performed from the shade of one tree while Chris' uncles pranced and danced their horses to the music in the open field.  I ate freshly slaughtered lamb cooked in a large barrel, head and all, and tasted the grilled fish.  There were lots of cowboy hats and even some pointy boots.  Chris' uncle David eagerly invited Chris and I to ride his horse name Pata Blanca, and his uncle Jose showed off the tricks he taught his horse.   The cow dogs were always right behind the horses.
 

With Tio David and the Mariachis in the background.

The fresh lamb.

Good horse.

Riding Pata Blanca at the fiesta.

My mother-in-law has 13 siblings, some of whom still live in Valle De Zaragoza and the rest of whom returned for the weekend.   The family squeezed into one room in Chris' grandparents home for Friday night worship, singing hymns and sharing bible verses.  The family organized and attended an outdoor church service at an uncle's ranch.  On Saturday afternoon, while relaxing in the shade at the ranch, the family spontaneously began singing hymns.

Most importantly, Chris and I spent time with his grandparents.  I even had an opportunity to speak with Chris' grandmother when no one else was around.  Even though I'm pretty sure she had no idea who I was, she held my hand like someone who already considered me part of the family.

Chris with his grandpa, an uncle, and his oldest cousin.

La familia Sias con los abuelitos.

Chris says goodbye to his grandma.

Prior to this trip, I had visited Cancun and Puerto Vallarta.  This trip, however, could easily be classified as my first real trip to Mexico, and I liked it.