Beware of Falling Palm Fronds

My family is the type of family that wants everyone to be careful about everything, all the time. Surfing, for example: "Don't go alone!" "Don't let your surfboard hit you in the head!" ""Punch sharks in their eyes and gills!" "Wear a helmet while waxing your board! Just in case." The other night we all had frozen yogurt, then went our separate ways. "Walk safe!" my aunt called out after me. I mean, I am fairly clumsy, but rarely have any intention of walking dangerously. This is the same aunt who has called me to warn me of other dangers, like angry homeless people and falling palm trees. To be more specific, falling palm fronds and seeds. I guess it's a real problem these days. I'm not sure if this is one I'm prepared to defend myself against, short of developing cat-like reflexes or permanently affixing aforementioned helmet. Today, my sister and I were in the middle of cackling about something, when mid-cackle she grabbed my arm and said with all morosity, "Be careful in Mexico." 

I have every intention of being careful in Mexico, but can't blame them for being worried. I mean, in a world where you can't walk down the street without being attacked by your local homeless person or palm tree, who can cope? I've been responsible this time and invested in vaccinations, medications, and extra naivety, but cannot account for other dangers, like excess baggage fees, or rapidly evolving land sharks.

I leave January 4th. Technically, my flight leaves January 5th from Tijuana at 2 am. If that's not something to worry about, I don't know what is! Just kidding, family. You know I love you. And don't worry about the picture above. It's entirely staged. My cousin and I weren't actually felled by the palm tree. This time. But I've heard Mexican palm trees are even craftier......

As usual, I don't know when I'll be back. And I don't know if I'll be updating the blog much this time around. It's best if I post when inspired or utterly deranged than out of obligation; and I'm not sure how interesting you'll find my daily routine, unless you'd like me to start giving a daily "Taco Texture" report in which I describe the consistency of the day's taco meat. I could also chronicle other fascinating things like the lineage of local street dogs and create hand crafted patents of nobility.

Of course, I'm sure I'll be dropping in once and a while, and I hope you will too. But until then; watch out for land sharks, and walk safe.

The Neverending Story

I finally uploaded all the pictures from my trip, and it certainly was a trip reliving 3 months in 3 minutes. I got so busy the last few weeks there I didn't post pictures of the aftermath of the crazy rainstorm we had that caused the main road to collapse. Pretty epic.

They repaired the roads in the following weeks; it was that or install an Evel Knievel ramp to bridge the gap. A Witness family owns a restaurant on the beach at Carrazilillo, it got taken out by the storm as well, filled to the brim with trees, boulders, dirt, and kitchenware. We spent a couple days helping dig them out. There's nothing like working hard with a purpose - I've never been so satisfyingly tired in my life.

Looking back is always nice.

And going back is better.

So I bought my ticket yesterday.

Let Them Eat Cake

My welcome home cake, lovingly inscribed by my uncle Jerry.

Reunited at the Kingdom Hall with my hermanas y amigas Tara, Emilie, Zoe, and Sarah. I came back home so I could meet my fifth and littlest amiga, Lyric, (almost) pictured above.

Can't wait.

A Homecoming In Five Acts

ACT I Ready to go. Get to the bus station just in time for the 10 o'clock, only to find that the buses to the airport in Huatulco aren't running. Split a 600 peso taxi with a lovely Englishman who is likewise stranded.

ACT II Spend 4.5 hours talking to said Englishman about everything from Buddhism to the 144,000. Arrive in Mexico City. 

ACT III Eat a chicken quesadilla. 

ACT IV Spend most of the flight from Mexico City to Los Angeles weeping into a giant scarf.

ACT V Finally arrive in San Diego. Greeted by 4.5 of the most excellent foxes I have ever met. 

Truth be told, I'm not ready to be home. I'm in a bit of shock. Before I left, a friend of mine said to me, "Chelsea, I think it's for good this time." I scoffed at him and said "What are you talking about, it's only a few months, I'm coming back." And he said "I know, but I think this is it." I think he was right. At this point, I'm going back to Mexico as soon as I can. If I manage to keep my focus and resist buying diamond encrusted kitchenware or other frivolous items, I should be able to make it happen. I'll miss the ministry the most. My motorbike second. A few other things too.

On the way back to San Diego, The Ballad of Love & Hate by the Avett Brothers came on my iPod. The lyrics made me smile, and then cry, and then smile again.

My vacation's ending. I'm coming home late.
The weather was fine and the ocean was great 
and I can't wait to see you again.