We just returned from a quick visit to Mexico. Rather than do the whole urban adventurer route, we did the easy version and stayed at an all-inclusive resort.
Strange.
I've never seen so few Mexicanos in Mexico. That said, we pulled Maxito out of the swimming pool and baby Genevieve out of the all-you-can-eat buffet and dragged them into town, to the zocalo, which is the Mexico I know and love.
And that's when the trip reminded me most of Jenny because she and I (and Steve, or Mom) always sought out the centro, where the markets and la Michoacana and the funky calavera or gorgeous Huichol boutiques surround a bandstand. On Sunday night, the place was jumping with tamale vendors, kids pulling balloon creatures, babies snoozing in strollers, and guitarists shouting out to people from Guadalajara, La Paz, Zacatecas, D.F.
In that moment were all our other journeys to Oaxaca, Guanajuato, even small-town Melaque where Jenny did karaoke to "Eensy Weensy Spider." I can see her in my mind impersonating the karaoke host: "Bienvenidos a Cascan! Soy Ramon." And I can still see her and Steve doing their Beatles duet while I laughed.
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