The Garcia sons returned to their place of origin. Our grandfather departed the town of Saltillo back in the early 20th century as part of the Bracero Worker Program with the U.S. To my knowledge we are the first of our family since that time to step foot back on the soil containing our deep roots. We were all proud to be in a place that at one time in our family's history we called home.
Saltillo itself is quaint and the people are incredibly friendly. It is not grand like the colonial tourist towns, but not ragged or culturally devoid like some of the smaller towns in Central America.
Emotionally we were all in period of "calm before the storm" - well, especially Max and I. We were one night away from home and all the luxuries that come with it. As a result of that mindset we spent the day aimlessly wandering the markets and sitting in the plazas. We even spent a good amount of time in the hotel. At this point in a long trip, you almost want to go into hiding so as to not have any bad experiences that might taint the trip and be qualified as bad luck. One night until home - only one night.
Even with a mixture of calmness and anxiousness we decided to go out
on the town for our final evening. We drank some beers and danced with some new friends at the very American Carlos and Charlies Bar.
The next day we would cross the border into home. The final post to this blog will follow.
1 comment:
I am almost sad to see this blog have an end and look forward to your reflections on being back in Texas after 7 countries. I feel like I have taken a small vacation after reading! I miss the chicken buses and all they represented to me so many years ago (adventures, learning, heritage, lack of funds, possibilities). It's hard to beleive it's been 15 since my first and 10 years since my last. Might be time to book a trip...
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