Trailer Park Nirvana image created by Stefany Kleeschulte.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Back in Kino

I didn't look forward to returning to Kino.

I didn't look forward to the two checkpoints on Hwy 15. Supposedly we can now only bring $75 worth of personal items duty-free into Mexico. My body lotions and shampoo came to that alone not to mention my two liters of gin and 1.75 liter bottle of Jack Daniels for a friend. The groceries. The toilet paper, paper towels and ziplock baggies. But I got green lights at both places. The federales in Cibuta merely waved.

I didn't look forward to the bypass through Hermosillo where cops supplement their meager incomes with gringo shakedowns. I did see two speed traps but they seemed official, the cops in lime green vests in plain sight, aiming radar guns. I crept through below the speed limit, unnoticed. (My big blue van looks very Mexican, especially with the rusted roof.)

I didn't look forward to the heat. When I pulled up at my trailer around 1:00 in the afternoon and got out of the van, the humidity nearly knocked me to my knees. Yes, it's October and the temps are in the high 90s; the humidity in the high 80s. Fortunately, the Sea of Cortez is still warm and there are no Portuguese Man o' Wars this time of year. No manta rays.

I didn't look forward to my trailer which has been closed up for three months. I opened the door to a suffocatingly hot tin can filled with mice turds and big dead crickets. It was disgusting. I nearly cried. But I was grateful I'd gotten there early in the day and not in the evening as was my original plan. Lots of clorox clean-up, lots of swiftering, lots of vacuuming. Bit by bit I replaced mouse turds with body lotions.

I didn't look forward to what appliances or systems might not be working. Did someone steal my propane as they did last year? No. They stole my 50' extension cord that ran from the electric post into my bodega. Fortunately it was used for my washer and my water pump and not the fridge. When the crook couldn't pull the cord out from the bodega, he cut it. I saw the thief later in the day and whined about the stolen cord. He was nice enough to loan me another cord from the office as he looked around wondering what he could steal next.

I didn't look forward to the gringos, the same old same old stories. But there were only four of us at happy hour and it was pleasant catching up on the gossip. The next morning I walked to the Hotel Hacienda to see my friend Edgar. I was happy to be back in Kino.

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