Many years ago we visited Puerta Vallarta, which is in Jalisco State, Mexico. Our hotel, Villa del Palmar Resort and Spa was right on the beach just outside of the city - an ideal spot for vacationers spending days lounging on the beach and playing in the water. Since our idea of travel is to be immersed in the places visited, and to know about the lifestyle of the people, we did not spend any time on the beach. Instead, we walked away from the beach and along the Malecon, the stone walkway into the little town.
I love early morning walks in foreign lands to see towns and people as they awaken to a new day while sunlight creates strong shadows. As we walked the streets of Pta. Vallarta shop keepers swept and watered the sidewalks and opened their shops. We observed the construction of a new building which seemed to use more hands-on work than similar construction would at home where lots of heavy equipment would have been used. And, as I recall, there was a brewery or bottling facility for beer along our route into town.
We dined in small local cafes and I noticed that the restrooms had no sinks inside. Upon exiting the restroom, there was a communal sink which seemed to me, a much better way of saying, “all patrons and employees are to wash their hands before dining or working”.
One day we boarded a bus to ride it to the last stop just to see where it went. This is our inexpensive and casual way of taking a tour. We boarded the bus which was headed to Bucerías, the next town. After we took our seats, the bus which was empty, filled with more and more passengers who boarded as we rode along the route. On the ride, I observed that the bus driver’s license was displayed above the windshield. Also on display were a Rosary, a card with a picture of the Madonna, and hand drawn designs, messages, and personal photos all decorating the driver’s work space. As the bus continued on its route, it stopped to pick up additional passengers - men, women, children, and chickens joined us. We were on vacation and did not have to follow a schedule; it did not disturb us or the other passengers that, as the bus passed through small villages, the driver stopped and waved to people he knew and stopped the bus to chat with them. We finally reached our destination: Bucerías.
At that time, Bucerias was a small beach-side village, colorful and calm. After walking around the village we walked onto the beach and that is where I had the memorable experience that opened my eyes to appreciate and learn from another culture.
As we walked on the beach a boy of about the age of eight or nine approached us with a box that held small onyx figurines. I really had no need or intention of buying them, but he stopped us and eagerly showed his wares. There were sets of seven animals ranging in size from tiny, to small, medium, and on to large, with the large one measuring maybe 3 inches in height. There were horses, chickens, elephants, and more. They were cute, but to my mind unnecessary.
I sighed and thought I’d strike a deal, and so I asked for ‘uno’ of the elephant figurines. To me this was a good compromise, the boy would make a sale and I’d have only one item to have to find a home for, not a whole family.
I was shocked when the boy looked at me in horror and exclaimed, “No!” I looked on, amazed as the boy explained, “No! No! Es una familia!”
And that was the lesson – family is most important. You love your family and just the thought of separating from family is painful.
I don’t think I got the depth of his response then. It wasn’t until much later that I processed it.
It was when I thought of my own family - me on the West Coast and the rest on the East Coast – of loving them and missing the loving comfort of times together. I thought of many of the people I worked with in Las Vegas, Nevada who had moved there from other places leaving family behind. Then my thoughts turned to the many people over time that have had to make the agonizing decision, for their family’s good, to move away from familiar faces and customs. It was then that I better understood the difficulty in recruiting sorely needed bilingual staff, for many applicants simply did not want to leave their families behind.
The love of family is the same worldwide. We value our families and sometimes we must make decisions that separate us - yet love remains.
I thought about and admired the earnestness of that little boy on the beach in Bucerías, and of his love for his family. Even to this day.