Earthquake (and People Who Make You Want to Smile)

Before we got our baggage in the airport, one child told me that they liked the U.S. better. And by the time we got to our apartment, another told me that they were ready to go home.

The kids did not choose this experience. I realize now that I imagined that they would be transformed into cooperative, inquisitive adults in the space between leaving our home and arriving at the Puebla bus station.

The travel went seamlessly. My sister and her family drove us to the airport and gave us a warm goodbye. The five-month supply of shots that Marie gets every two weeks and that must be refrigerated went through both TSA and customs without a hitch. A friend of ours, Sara, grew up in Puebla and is visiting her family here. Her husband, Jim, met us at the Puebla bus station and drove us to our apartment near the historic center of Puebla.

We have been met with such care and hospitality. Jim is an archeologist and gave us a tour of the area and the pyramids in Cholula. After spending most of the day with us, he offered to take us to the grocery store because he knows how hard it is to shop without a car. Sara and her extended family welcomed us into their New Year’s celebration in their family home with fireworks, so much good food, and celebration.

Our landlady, Celia, their son, and husband, have done all they can to welcome us. “She’s the kind of person,” Marie said after meeting our landlady, “that makes you want to smile when you meet her.”

Celia has answered all my questions so far.

“How do I wash the vegetables?” I asked her. She told me to use soap and then soak them in water with disinfectant drops. “I’ll give you a bottle, so you know what to buy.”

I asked her what to do if we have a medical emergency. “Call us first,” she told me. “Our friend is a doctor who works one block away, and he will take you to the hospital.”

One day Celia took me on a three-mile walk through our neighborhood, guiding me through the crowded streets showing me where to buy the freshest meat and vegetables, which cafes to visit, and which small shop is best for school supplies.

This is the first time that the kids have had to adjust to a new place. School begins soon, and it is all a lot. But we are having our moments – joining in Sara’s family’s hugs at the start of the new year, eating ice cream on a bench at night under the silhouette of the cathedral against the moon, sampling an array of fresh pastries until we decided on our favorite.

One morning the kids navigated their first earthquake, racing out of the apartment and down to the courtyard. They did this all with cool composure. Since it was only a small earthquake in Puebla, that experience was easier than starting a new school. But an earthquake is not an inaccurate metaphor for what I have imposed on them, and their reaction gives me confidence that they will continue to adjust.