This Is What I’m Thinking.
Happy hour at the campground started at 4:30pm. We left at 8:30. Margaritas. I spent the morning in a Christmas card-making class. In the afternoon, we went to the post office.
Four weird things about that. First, the two towns we’re sandwiched between have post offices which are only identifiable by the chalk (I kid you not, CHALK) U S P O above the doorway in very small letters.
Hey, this is the Wild West. The post office doesn’t even have a FLAG.
Second, you can only find it by asking someone. And that someone doesn’t know how to speak English. (And I’m fine with that; I am proud that the United States doesn’t have a national language. It’s part of our freedoms, and I value it.) My Spanish is limited to Uno, Dos, Tres, (don’t know how to spell them) Feliz Navidad, and the lyrics to Rayando el Sol (because I listen to it ten hours a day for the first two months after Glenn goes on a work trip). So getting the directions to said post office was… difficult.
Third, our normal mail goes through one town, while any express mail goes through another town. And… get this, express mail is not DELIVERED here. So you spend $15 for express mail, but unlike a 44-cent stamped envelope, you have to actually drive to the post office to get it.
Four, in order to get to the post office, we have to go through a border patrol/inspection checkpoint. I really tear up at least once every day about border patrol and attitudes toward Mexicans. The way they sell it down here, I’m learning, is it’s not about the Mexicans crossing; it’s about the drugs. (Well, that’s what the NICE people say.)
However, I had one person tell me I should not go hiking without first getting a concealed gun permit, and, as someone else later said, not because of the four-legged cougars. Which is still better than the all-Mexicans-from-Mexico-are-dangerous-criminals attitude. *sigh*
The drugs are not entirely a prejudiced concern. They just discovered a truck with like 1600 pounds of marijuana or something insane like that. I’ve seen border patrol catch people twice, once because of a flat tire, and once because of one headlight being out. And I really don’t see why a forty-five year old woman is so dangerous she has to be kneeling in a ditch with her hands over her head. A bus crossed over, how I don’t know, and we were driving amidst ten or fifteen border patrol cars carting them to Tucson. (I woulda thought they’d be going the other way…)
One thing I didn’t imagine before I got here, is that border patrol stuffs people in the bed of pickup trucks. There’s a top over the bed with a locked door, but it’s short enough that people have to be awkwardly scrunched in there.
Do you know how hard it is to step up into the bed of a pickup truck? (Near impossible if you’re not under thirty.) Okay, now imagine doing that, and then climbing through a three-four foot doorway.
Meanwhile, back in the campground…
Campground living is different. For example, if Glenn walks the 1 minute walk to the office to ask a question, it’ll take him an hour and a half to get back. You stop and chat a lot. And the people are the COOLEST. And most people are retirees, so an “activities director” is coming in a week to entertain the “snowbirds” for the winter.
I can totally get used to this life.
So what are you thinking this weekend? Any plans? What’s your life like?
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Natasha Fondren is a writer traveling the U.S. in a camper with her four cats. She is currently enjoying the lizards and desert heat in Arizona.
“What’s your life like?”
NOT as interesting as yours!
LOL, Bernita! It’s all in the perspective. Really, I just sit and write and read.
I used to live in Tucson. Crossed the border once to go to Nogales. Didn’t like waiting in a line to come back into my own country. Since then only went to Mexico by plane or cruise ship.
You’re a brave woman. The suburbs is wilderness enough for me!
I’m really close to Nogales, Amy! Down here where everything is in kilometers, LOL…
I’m totally loving Tucson! I have to get a passport card, though. I do want to head into Mexico!
I’m not sure I could live among racial profilers. But, now that I think about it, it happens everywhere, and people will justify their actions and/or stupidity about it.
My weekend will consist of putting up a Christmas tree. We picked it up last night (fresh tree), and today it’ll make its way into the living room. Somewhere between I’ll work on a history paper. *sigh* College and holidays don’t mix well for me.
Kath, what mystified me, is that evidently racial profiling is not illegal. It perplexed me, but that is precisely what border patrol does.
Oh FUN! I’m jealous of your Christmas tree!
Some of this sounds so wonderful. But the other part is sad. What a great social life you have there! How do you find time for writing?
In an hour and ten minutes, I’ll be leaving for my chapter Christmas party. I’m looking forward to it. The woman giving the party this year live in a condo near the lakefront. I think on the 26th floor. She has a view of Lake Michigan.
Friday and Saturday I got no writing done at all. It was an odd day, honestly. They’re not usually this busy. I’d also coughed my back out of whack, so work wasn’t happening.
Oh wow! I hope the party was fun!
Sleep, football, food, football. That’s my plan
That’s Glenn’s, too!
I’m laughing because it took me over a year to discover our post office — just because that was the first time I needed it. I’m glad we’re far enough away from the border that we don’t have to deal with any of that crap. We get drug wars, but the only people stuffed in the back of trucks are there willingly.
In fact, just this morning we stopped for tacos at the place next to the police station and I kid you not, a police pickup truck went by with AT LEAST 15 cops crammed in the back. One was actually sitting on the side of the truck with his legs stretched out in front of him, hanging onto the rollbar that runs the length of the truck to stay in. All fully armed with machine guns, of course.
No plans this weekend. I’m hoping to finish up a big overhaul I’m doing on my family’s website, but otherwise just more editing.
Melanie, I stopped all mail, but Glenn’s check isn’t being automatically deposited like it should be, so we’re literally spending $7-$15 a week to forward it. Annoying.
I can’t imagine living amongst that! I was telling people about your machine guns at the margarita party. It blows my mind.
Fascinating. I am glad I don’t have to go through a checkpoint like that though. Infuriating. No excuse for crap lie you describe.
Eric, it feels weird. It’s not at all like Ohio, for sure.
All right, you wandering vagabond- you have to come back sometime. You’re starting to have way too much fun.
LOL, Rick! It’s funny. Since I’ve been here, I’ve been coughing up a lung, drowning in my lungs, and coughing my back out of whack.
I think I’ve had two or three healthy days here.
The weird thing is, I’m so happy and loving it so much, I hardly notice all that!
I love hearing about your life in the Southwest. Brings back memories of extended adventures I’ve had down there. The border patrol scene was not as intense then.
Paul, at some point in my first couple weeks here, maybe days, I thought, “My God. Arizona is obsessed with their border.”
It really feels like obsession.
Wow! You’re having adventures! It really makes me laugh to think of the activities director coming to entertain the snowbirds. I once went camping with a bunch of girlfriends, and we did water aerobics with the “snowbirds”. It was a hoot. You could do a creative writing class, Natasha!
Oh yes, it’s fun, Robin! I’ve been trying to think up the best way to approach one woman and ask her to start a knitting class or group.
Such a different life here!
Urp. You know I meant “teach” a creative writing class, right?
I’d love to take a knitting class! I’d knit while watching TV.