Butchblog

with apologies to Jack Kerouac

It’s good to get away; it’s even better to get back home. Bev and I returned yesterday from a trip to southern Mexico—Oaxaca, Puebla, and Mexico City were on the itinerary. We traveled with a group of  21 people under the guidance of the Road Scholars organization, a non-profit group that arranges trips all around the globe for folks over 55, who still want to learn about and experience what the rest of the world is like. This was our fourth trip with them and all have been eye-opening. Of course, we returned home exhausted, but that was more about dealing with airports and airline weariness, than the trip itself. We’d travel even more, if someone could just figure out teleportation.

            These trips always feature lectures from local experts about the history and culture of the area, along with guided tours to important landmarks and special eating places. Food is a big part of the cultural experience, and the cuisine of Mexico, in particular, is notable for its variety and its use of local ingredients. We spent a long day learning how to make a black mole from scratch, incorporating 16 different ingredients. I say learned, but that will be determined when we try to duplicate the dish on our own, which we will do, and invite friends to partake, along with the local aged Mezcal we smuggled out. Broadening, indeed.

            But what really makes these adventures special is the camaraderie and connection that develops with our fellow travelers. In our final dinner together, I felt like a kid graduating from high school, saying good-bye to dear friends who we had shared a meaningful time with. Hugs and tears were shared. Away from our regular lives, we were more able to open up and share stories about our lives in a way that rarely happens on our home turf, where we (mistakenly) assume that everyone already knows everything about us, so just shut up, man. I had one conversation on a long bus trip from Oxaca to Puebla, where a new friend and I shared stories of our relationships to our fathers. You know, intense stuff. I told him about the time I had packed up my family and drove from Seattle to New Jersey with all of our belongings because I wanted my children to have more of a relationship with their grandparents, only to have my dad say to me when we arrived, “So, you couldn’t make it out there, huh.”  Tom and I laughed then and he told me about a similar sad encounter with his father. I’ll likely never see that guy across the bus aisle again, but in that moment, I felt connected. Traveling is like that. Unexpected connections are made, people feel freed from their previous restraints. New friends are made, which is often difficult for older people to do, especially men. You know how we are.

            It’s also worth noting that as a group of older Americans, we represented a somewhat entitled and privileged, part of the population. To be clear, it takes money (quite a bit) to do this kind of exploration. Road Scholars is not a high-end organization; we weren’t traveling in the lap of luxury; still most elderly folks would not be able to go on such trips; many retired people in America can barely get by and pay the rent or their medical bills. I think it’s important to keep that in mind. And, though, I’ve now gone 600 words without mentioning the trump word, and though we traveling scholars tried hard not to mention the orange dictator on our journeys, it must be said that the current state of our country made me at times wish I was a citizen of some more enlightened land. So here I now stand, refreshed and ready to see a change. Hopefully on our next foreign adventure, we’ll be able to brag about our country too.