Roots.

Years before a computer program determined Cancun to be the ideal vacation spot for Americans looking to spend their week long holidays without losing sight of a Mcdonalds half my bloodline crossed the border from Mexico with nothing more than a chest of belongings and arriving here as a traveler I’ve never felt so foreign. City by city we are moving south through the Yucatan away from plastic beaches and big box stores and the little Abuelas that peer out from painted cases with wrinkled eyes and bent backs are a constant reminder of the grandparents who have built a life so far north. The language rings familiar in the streets and always seems to be on the tip of my tongue yet slips away revealing me as the “other”. As I play tourist my cheekbones and complexion match that of the women who stand on corners peddling woven bracelets and the men who beckon from restaurants can never quite tell my origin. Being here is a quick fire reminder of how little I know of my past. More so, being here is a reminder how little I know of myself.

#mexico #cancun #caribbean #poetry #wander #wayward