Foiled

“You all have no idea how much you are going to need me in Mexico,” Mark sighed a few months ago.

But he is wrong. We do know. Mark embraced our new life with enthusiasm. He threw himself into trying Spanish, explored our neighborhood, and got our apartment set up.

Mark replaced the harsh white lights in our apartment with warmer light bulbs, got a microwave for us, and rearranged Simone and Marie’s bedroom. Mark headed back to Tucson last week. I do know how much we need him; I also know that the only reason we can take this detour from our normal life is that if we do need him, he will be right there to help us. 

The day after Mark left, the plan was for our normal life to begin. At 6:45 a.m. the four of us, all nicely combed and buttoned up, marched the two blocks to the kids’ school. It was Langston’s first day of school. We crossed the street to avoid a crew of men fixing the stucco on an old building. A man selling juice greeted us from his little cart.

“It doesn’t seem like there are many kids,” Simone observed. Maybe we were too early.

But the school did seem very quiet. We stood outside the heavy iron school gate on the sidewalk. Simone was cold because she had forgotten a jacket. Church bells rang.

How Langston felt and how Marie felt about Langston’s first day of school.

Finally, we noticed some people entering the campus at another gate. The guard at that gate graciously tried to understand why we were there and then told us to wait. An English-speaking teacher came to the gate. I had the date wrong. This was not Langston’s first day of school; in fact, he does not begin school for almost two weeks. He and I feel very differently about this.

I decided that we needed to join a gym to keep him busy. But first I had to go to work, which, by the way, is going great. We visited one gym that was too fancy, another gym that was too far for him to walk, and another that seemed to work. Prior to joining, though, we needed proof of residency, a doctor’s note, and a certain number.

Meanwhile, the kids all need to eat. So often. How can kids eat so much? Mexico is a comparatively easy place for a dairy-free, egg-free, nut-free, seed-free diet. But we don’t have a stove yet. We do have an air fryer, but I can’t seem to make enough food in it; the meals seem to come out for two people rather than four. I bought a single electric burner and tried to make pasta. The water boiled, but once I put the pasta in the pot, the little burner wouldn’t heat up the water fast enough and we ended up with a gooey dish. “Mom, I thought you knew how to cook,” Marie said.

I was going to get us signed up for that gym. I called my doctor in Arizona for the doctor’s note. He said, no, providing a note like that is not something he can do. I texted my sister complaining about this, and she said to go to the closest pharmacy with a consultorio. So, I walked half a block to a consultorio medico, knocked on the door, and waited two minutes. The doctor answered the door and asked what I needed. He spent 20 minutes in a thoughtful conversation and kind examination and then gave me the note. At the end of the appointments, after confirming that I had all I needed, he asked for payment, 70 pesos, or about 4 US dollars, which I gave to him. He then gave me a candy.

Saturday morning, I thought we were ready to join the gym. I had gathered the other required documents in addition to the doctor’s note. We were ready and excited to swim and work out. We walked the 0.8 miles to the gym, and we were told that the woman who does memberships is out and will be back on Monday.

“Foiled again,” I said as we excited the building.

I have not successfully started the kids in school or joined a gym, and I am losing the constant Parent Vs Screen Time War, but I have hope that some of our larger goals, like expanding our hearts and minds are still in sight. I’ve convinced the kids that when we take out the garbage at night, we walk once around the plaza outside our apartment.

“Mom,” Simone said as we walked out of the gate one night. “How long do you have to wait after doing one Fulbright to apply for another one?”

“Oh,” Marie said, “look that up, Simone.” And I felt a little triumphant.