You know that I lived in Mexico. Unless you didn't know, but now you do. I lived in Mexico once.
One of the reasons I loved living in Mexico as much as I did was named Juan.
(Juan is the big guy to the left.)
Juan and his family took me into their home and loved me like their own...they still love me like their own.
A few weeks ago I talked to Juan on the phone and he said, "So Guera, when do I get to meet my new son-in-law?"
I spent my days hanging out with either Juan or his wife Ana. One morning Juan said, "Guera, it's time to go or we're going to be late."
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"We have to go to Dolores Hidalgo and it's a two hour drive. Let's go."
This was the first time I had heard that we were going to take a road trip but I was happy to go.
We drove up a lush mountain pass and at the end of two hours ended up at a beautifully quaint little town:
After about 30 minutes of walking Juan said, "I'm hungry. Let's eat."
We walked into a restaurant and sat down. I love restaurants in Mexico: the colors, the decorations, the birds flying around, the mariachi bands playing...I even love the food. Juan handed me a menu and said, "Order whatever you want."
I don't remember what I ordered to eat but I ordered bottled water to drink and Juan chewed me out.
"Guera, you're in Mexico. Live a little...order something good to drink...you know, like a cerveza." (And for those of you who don't know, cerveza is beer.)
Juan happens to be the same religion I am and as it turns out, he doesn't drink alcohol either...he just liked to tease me about drinking it.
I ordered a lemonade instead.
We talked, Juan harassed, and finally our meal arrived.
I took a big bite of whatever it was I ordered and realized that I had forgotten to ask for no salsa. The salsa in Mexico can kill me...really...if I eat more than one bite.
I started coughing, Juan started laughing, and I took a drink of my lemonade. But just one drink because it tasted really funny.
I continued to eat my meal but didn't take another drink of the lemonade.
Juan noticed and asked, "Guera, is something wrong with the lemonade?"
I nodded and said, "I think it has alcohol in it."
Juan rolled his eyes and said, "Give me your lemonade."
I handed my glass goblet full of lemonade to Juan and watched as he took a big swallow.
He started to laugh and didn't stop for a good four minutes...all the while I'm just sitting there trying my best not to laugh too. I didn't have a clue why he was laughing but his laugh was contagious.
Finally when he could talk Juan said, "Guera that's not alcohol...the lemonade is made with seltzer water."
...how the heck was I to know they made lemonade with seltzer water?
Juan ordered me another lemonade, without the seltzer water, and we finished our lunch...
But not in peace...
Juan laughed at me through the entire meal...during the walk back to the car...and all the way down that same mountain pass...and when we walked into the front door of his house he started laughing again and yelled, "Ana, where are you? I have a story to tell you about the Guera."