JOHN - August 18, 2008, Guanajuato

Leaving Wayland

The alarm goes off at 4:00 am but Aydan and I were already awake in our different rooms. Ashley was up packing – not sure she ever really went to sleep. Today is D-day, the day we fly from Boston to Houston to Mexico to live for 1 year. It is a major operation worthy of the best military options (I think my wife was in special ops before I met her.) Yesterday was the final packing, arranging, storing, cleaning, goodbyes but the process for all of the above has been going on for months.

At 23:00 hours last night, Ashley and I went to bed. We had packed our neighbors'/friends', the O’Shaughnessey’s, large SUV with 6 very large suitcases all identifiable because of their colors (pink, light blue, grey) and large, bright polka dots. I was picturing touching down in the land of machismo among dungarees and cowboy hats and being the lone gringo male making way to reach for his fluorescent, pink polka dotted—unmistakable—suitcase. Why not enter with a splash?

The day before we packed cleaned out the garage, fixed our humidifier in the basement, left final instructions for our renter Kay. No emotional preparation at all other that a moment with each goodbye to a friend or family member when the emotion of saying goodbye overtook the logistics mindset momentarily and the weight of the change hit home briefly. Amidst the work we had visits from Demetra, Mark and Kim O’Shaughnessey and their daughters Abby and Emily, Jackson Madnick, my parents, John and Helen, my sister Kathleen from Cambridge who just got home from a tiring long wedding and with an infant at home, and at the very end of the night Sean Sweeney, followed by Tom, Beth, Clara and Chris Hurney our friends across the street. Each dropped by and ended up doing something useful that without I’m not sure we would have made it out on time in such good shape.

In fact, one of the greatest gifts of this entire process was the reminder that we are part of a fantastic community in Wayland, our home for the past 5 years, and our friends, including colleagues, and family scattered all around. The encouragement, heartfelt goodbyes, and help brought all that home. We are leaving the country to have a bonding experience as a family and exploring a slower pace of life. But it is very gratifying to know that even in our fast paced, often stressful life of the United States we are part of a real, nurturing, full community.

Scheduled to leave at 0430 hours, we left about 5 minutes after. Not bad. We backed out the massive O’Shaughnessey rig, packed to the hilt, with absolutely no rear vision in the cool black of early morning. I think I crushed some flowers at the end of the driveway, but what they hell, it was Kay’s problem now! (Just kidding Kay).

We met my parents at the airport—they were there at 4:30am even through we were meeting at 5am. Luckily they did because they figured out there was no flight at International, we had to be at domestic since we had a layover in Houston.

Kim dropped us off. At curbside we met a flight crew that had just brought the Patriots back from Tampa. One was genuinely intrigued by the amount of stuff we had – including two vocal cats—and proceeded to tell her colleagues all about our adventure. She also took a group photo for us.

We got in line looking like we were heading on a royal safari and proceeded to check in 11 luggage items with an additional 8 carry on items. Our stuff included (sung to the tune of "A Partidge in a Pear ट्री") 6 polka dotted suitcases, 4 mid size luggage, 3 heavy laptops, 2 wailing cats, 1 bulky guitar, and Noelle’s own violin case.

At check in we met an angel and it’s a good thing. Our baggage in total was well over the allowed number and most were over the allowed weight, and apparently Continental had an embargo on their usual number of allowed items. We got wind of this the day before but every call we made to the airline gave a us a different answer which was extremely frustrating, along with the fact that website was unclear and did not coincide with the phone support. We felt we had to go for it thinking the confusion at their end might work to our advantage.

We got lucky in that an angel of a woman checked us in. She was genuinely excited about our trip. Bag after bag was overweight but she patiently checked us in and charged us only $100 for the collective excess weight. It could have been hundreds more, or worse, disallowed. Then our Angel, a former 5th grade substitute teacher from Revere, said, “grab a coffee, say goodbye to your family, and then I’ll escort you to the front of the security line, you’ll be fine.”

Then our last goodbye to Grandma and Papa. This was it. No more, “oh, we’ll see Sunday one more time,” etc. The last goodbye. I expected it to be tough for my Mom. I think she is hardest hit by our leaving for a whole year, and taking her grandchildren with us. She was tearful and gave an especially firm hug, as did I. “I’m OK.” She said. “Seeing you in October helps.” They filmed the whole goodbye following us to the security line then walked off into the Boston morning.

They were off to a life of speaking English, renting movies “on demand,” chicken sandwiches made to order, all the Red Sox coverage a guy could want, their friends, their climate, security, comfort of knowing what the day has in store for the most part. I started to sweat in line. At the front of security, carrying two very nervous cats, I asked if it was OK to let them out to stretch their legs. They chuckled and told me that passengers had to carry their cat through the metal detector and place the bags on the belt. “We’ve had cats more than once break free,” one woman laughed. “It got pretty crazy.” Talk about letting the cat out of the bag!

As my parents walked off, with my culture with them, and as I stood in the slowest line known to man with two whining cats, excited children, and a wife who was in def con 3 mode hell bent to get on that plane, I started to sweat.

Another look back to my parents—to mommy and daddy. They were moving in slow motion through the automatic doors, their backs fading in the distance. I pictured cats running through a crowded airport as our plane was taking off. People screaming at me…chaos.

Wait!! Take me with you. This has all been a terrible mistake!! What the *&$@Q!! is going on here!?!? I know shit for Spanish. I’m a Red Sox fan not a soccer fan!! What they hell is a ____________ anyway? And though, yes, I enjoy the occasional enchilada and a cervesa or two, I need my grilled chicken sandwiches made to order—the way I like them. Where will I get take out Italian or sushi in a bind?!?!?! What about all my Beatles and Springsteen CDs I was supposed to download to our iPod and never got to? Someone get me off this f----d up train that my wife put me on…!!!! Aghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…….

“Make sure all liquids are in a separate container, and that bags fit in the allotted size to be allowed on the plane.” Said a very stern machismo American man. “Laptops must be taken out of their case and placed in a separate gray container.” The man, dressed in white short sleeve security uniform, walked over to a passenger dressed in military camouflage uniform, told him something about his boots needing to come off, then very sternly shook his hand and said with intensity, “Thank you for your service.” He walked away, looking mad.

Through the line, cats out of the bag, then back in. Shoes off, then on, collecting children and laptops and a dripping plastic bag with fruit and drinks for the plane ride, we made it on. We got settled. Was told someone had moved our seat so a woman with two kids could sit together. “I am in the same boat as you.” She said to Ash. Yeah but that’s our seat! OK. No problem, I’ll sit in the inside seat next two big guys.

The plane ride was fine, save for constant but not too obnoxious meowing.

We were off. I looked at the row in front of me. Ashley, Noelle, and Aydan. Each was so excited…to be on this adventure and to be together. Last night as the girls went to bed I asked them to huddle up. “This is our last night in our house for a whole year,” I said as we 4 sat on the bed. “I just want you to know I could go anywhere in the world for any amount of time as long as I was together with each of you.” Es la vida.

We put our hands together in the middle. “On the count of three what shall we say?” “Guanajuato.” Ashley said. “one, two, three…” we raise our hands in unison and shouted, “Guanajuato!”



Arriving in Guanajuato

After a 2 hour layover in Houston, where we let the cats eat and walk around in a gross handicapped bathroom room, we boarded a much smaller plane bound for Leon and touched down about 1:30pm local time. Customs and baggage claim was easy, even with two cats. Celia Martinez, our landlord and her friend, a man from France named Daniel, picked us up in a huge rental van and drove us to Guanajuato 30 minutes away. That ride is not spectacular, but as we approached Guanajuato we started to see the historic architecture, the vibrant colors of the buildings, none over 2 stories except the Universidad de Guanajuato, or spectacular church, or public theater (more on those later). We stopped at a super market, got some things to get us through day 1, and went to our new home.

Valenciana, Guanajuato is on the outer edge of the city of Guanajuato. Our house is two doors down from a private Mexican school the girls are attending. We booked our flight because school started August 20, but we learned they had changed the day and school actually started Monday. So our first night was a school night.

Our house is large and great. Three bedrooms each with a bathroom, a large studio loft on the 4th floor, 2 large open balconies (one with a hot tub and built in grill), a dining room, big kitchen, an extra bathroom, living room, a couple of fire places and a study. It’s gated in unnecessarily which feels weird.

Perfect? No. Toilet pressure is weak so the landlord asked us on day one to please not throw any toilet paper in the toilet, rather in the trash. Hmm. Ok. One toilet would not flush on first try and kept running. The doors do not open from the inside without a key which we only have one of. No heat. They’ve gotten more rain here than they have in 12 years so it is cool now at night and during the day, but with a blanket in bed it is fine. We read that the temperature is typically 70º-90ºF in daytime throughout the year.

The best part about the house though is the view. Spectacular. We sit above a small valley of green trees (probably more brown when rainy season stops) then down further is he city of Guanajauto. It is beautiful in the morning and beautiful at night when lit up. The house has large glass window/walls on two sides on three floors, so you are never far from the view. That is my favorite part of the house.

Our first night we got rooms somewhat set, put some luggage away, and decided to walk into Valenciana and find a restaurant. We were starving. We walked, and walked up the hill near the _________ cathedral considered the most beautiful in the City. Everything was closed. We asked a police officer, a scary young woman who trying to get us to take a tour of the old silver mines, each had ideas but nothing was open.

Hungry and tired, we gave up and headed back home. OK. We’ll make a nice pasta dinner from the things we bought at the super market. Ashn made a sauce, I made a Noelle a peanut butter and Jelly. Then we realized we lost the pasta that we all swore we had seen in the kitchen. No we were really about to lose Aydan. Another PB&J, a grilled cheese, some eggs and cheese for Mommy and Daddy, and our first Mexican feast was in the record books. Ah, this was living!

We decided to pull the girls’ mattresses into our room for the first few nights. After brushing and pajamas, we all laid on our king bed, even the two cats who were settling in, and read a story, Rose Meets Mr. Wintergarten. There are some goals of this trip (learning Spanish, slowing down, absorbing another culture) that will take time. But I could already see the main goal of the trip being realized: bonding as a family. We were out of our comfort zone—a disorienting dilemma as we’d say on the AE project—but I could see the girls were comforted by being together, and Ashley and I are too. We are in it together.

We fell asleep at 10:30pm Boston time. Tomorrow was the first day of school, the first full day of life in Mexico.