When everyone else is counting blessings, we have lost count. We are together since Saturday, July 6 we crossed the border into Mexico around 11 am. I saw J standing there waiting for us on the bridge between Matamoros, Mexico and Brownsville, Texas.
Let me tell you, when crossing the border you MUST declare what you have over your limit. The kids and I are allowed $75.00 each. Had J crossed with us because he is from Mexico he would be allowed $300.00, but he didn’t. In reality we were only allowed to cross $225.00 without paying taxes. We had well over $400 in just tools, my laptop, Johnny’s computer, camera, two bicycles, a flat screen TV, and the top of the truck was loaded with about 8 Large luggage’s. We declared TWICE what we had, I had more than allowed. At BOTH stations, they let us threw without paying.
We were going through a small town, chatting, and we didn’t notice the drop in speed limit. A State Police stopped us for speeding; we were going about 20 above. He told us because our truck was not from Mexico he would have to take up the truck until the fine was paid, or else we would never pay the ticket and disappear. Then after talking to J for a few minutes, he said to be more careful and to watch for speed limits.
While our stay at the first Motel, J did not sleep a wink. He almost didn’t let me sleep, the last time he woke me it was like 3 AM, telling me it wasn’t safe. Apparently, there were some guys who kept walking to the front of our room, stopping, and walking away. I saw them, but I told him, do you think God would let them steal from us after all he has done? When we woke up the next morning, nothing had been touched.
Then, close to Guadalajara, at a road block, we were asked to pull over that our bicycles were being illegally transported. Although, super secure to our front grill, he said it was “Article 300” that bicycles could not be transported in the front. Had I had the opportunity to talk to him, I would have been thrown in Jail. J did all the talking and again we were sent on our way after he tied the bicycles in the back on top of the cooler.
All theses close calls we were let go without a MORDIDA. What Mexico Police is known for, a payoff.
Then there was the most perfect weather. Beautiful! When we started to fear overheating, God gave us rain. When we started to fear the wet road, he then gave us sunshine. Always there with what we needed.
We have now walked J’s hometown, and a cute little town it is. The kids have met their Visabuelos (great grandparents) Mama Lupe and Papa Angel. They have met an infinite amount of uncles, aunts, and cousins. Everyone here seems to know us even people we haven’t been introduced to. While J was at work I took them to the soccer field and we were stopped and asked if we were Manuelito’s family. They have all been expecting us. Glad to say we feel welcomed and right at home.
Unlike the story my dad told me the first time he visited my mom’s town of Durango, we do not have to go potty in the pig pen, or use corn husk as toilet paper. Phew! He had me scared at first.