Hello guys. So this past week I was invited to participate in the 20 Something Bloggers blog swap. This years topic was childhood summer vacation. I swapped blogs with Euni from Teeny Tiny Tidbits of Thoughts. You guys can check out my post over there. Hope you guys enjoy!!
My family and I were never much for traveling far or to totally foreign places. As a child, I never got to really enjoy the beach, let alone the road, for summer vacations. However, there was one occasion, a very random, and in retrospect, kind of dangerous occasion, when I traveled to Mexico, without my parents, to visit my grandparents.
Dangerous, how could visiting one’s grandparents be dangerous? Oh, yes, let me explain: I was a mere three years old (I know, not many people remember their early years), and my parents thought it was a brilliant idea for me to travel via plane with my visually impaired aunt, who at the time did not understand English very well. I remember being terrified of getting on the plane at first, and I adamantly insisted that the plane we were to board be small, not huge; otherwise, “things would not fly” (I’ll admit, I wasn’t witty enough back then to use puns, but OK). Anyway, we boarded the plane---honestly, I’m not quite sure if we got to board first because of my aunt’s condition or how we even made it to the correct terminal, but we did. I do remember my hardcover Golden Books version of 101 Dalmatians (my then-favorite Disney movie), and my aunt’s mini-telescope that kept me entertained during the flight.
We safely landed in Leon, where several of my uncles and my grandmother, clad in their leather jackets (leather happens to be really big in Leon, where my extended family lives), were ready to welcome us. The rest of the trip is really quite a blur: I remember waking up in the mornings, having cereal for breakfast, and then going out to the street to play with the other native children. I would play dolls with the neighbor’s daughter and pillow fight with my youngest uncle (the pillows, by the way were actually filled with old clothes, and consequently some of those pillows were actually very painful…especially the ones filled with old jeans).
The one big event that I do remember was when we (the grandparents, aunts and uncles, and me of course) drove out of town to a ranch. This ranch had goats and horses mainly, and a few donkeys as well. Basically, we decided to have picnic on the ranch, though the main reason for going to this ranch was for my grandfather to purchase a couple of goats. There are a few pictures stowed away in the house somewhere, in some old dusty album I’m sure, but an old picture did resurface in a stack of random photos. In this picture, I’m posing with my grandfather and youngest uncle, amid a backdrop of goats and sparse trees.
I sometimes wonder if this trip was exactly as I remember it, or if my mother back home was worried at all that I was so far away, but then I realize that it’s better not to think about these questions and complicate a summer trip that kept three-year-old-me entertained and content.
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