It’s nine years this week since I arrived in the Rio Grande Valley on the Texas border with Mexico. I was headed to retiring affordably in Mexico but couldn’t get my flock of rescue birds across the border legally so I stayed put to consider options.
The region, considered one of the poorest in the US, has a strong cultural influence of Mexicans (since it was once part of Mexico), with Spanish spoken as frequently as English. Every culture has its shysters & because of Texas lowlife politicians the state has a reputation as redneck hell. But the RGV, probably from a combination of Mexican culture & hard working people, is one of the most generous places I’ve ever lived. I’ve been graced with more human kindness here than I ever imagined. Just yesterday I took my shimmying car to my immigrant Mexican mechanic to see if I could drive it till Thursday when I would bring it to him for repair. He fixed it yesterday & said I could pay him on Thursday. That is just so un-American.
Living here has been a blessing for me, especially in the people I’ve come to know & become friends with, including gringos, of course. Don’t believe a word of what the lowlife in the White House says about Mexican immigrants. But then I know you don’t. <3
(PS: If anyone in the RGV is looking for a good mechanic, let me know.)