September 8 – 17, 2024, Mexico. It was hard to leave Kari, Oskar, and Cohan. They had taken me in, given me their own room, and treated me like family. And Ruben, Kari’s dad, had been a dear friend, and his loss was still painful for me. But today was my birthday and I wanted to celebrate with my friend Edyth, whom I hadn’t seen for 10 years.

In 2014 I had visited Edyth’s village of Chingnahuapan for the first time. I’d met her at the family bakery, La Condesa. I bought some delicious eclairs and gingerbread cookies. There I also met her mom, the matriarch and owner. Sadly, a few years later her brother forced them to sell, while he pocketed the money. Edyth and I became fast friends, and she invited me to stay with her at her mom’s home. I was lucky to experience an important festival marking the transfer of a saint icon from one church to another. Townspeople made a great alfombra, a beautifully stenciled pattern of colored sawdust all along the dirt road connecting the churches, a distance of miles. Men and women on horseback opened the procession, followed by a band of young men wearing devil masks and long whips clowned with the crowd, miming and generally creating mayhem.

I had meant to return to visit a few years later. Sadly, 10 had passed. I felt increasingly guilty, and finally decided that this was the year I would visit. I wanted to see her son Jesus, who’d been 9 when I was last there, and Monserrat, who’d been born the year after my visit. Edyth had struggled because Monty’s father abandoned her months before the birth, and her family advised not to go through with the pregnancy. She had called asking what to do, and I, normally advising people not to have children, sensed that Edyth really wanted Monty. So I echoed back what I heard, and she appreciated my support.

The road from Jilotepec to Chingnahuapan was lovely. I was listening to an audiobook as I normally did on my drive. There had been a highway closure due to some problem with the tollgate, and I was trying to figure out an alternative. Apparently, some people had been stuck on the freeway for a few days, waiting for it to open. I didn’t want to be one of them. On the way to Edyth’s, I stopped at a mountain pass, intrigued by plants being sold in volcanic rock pots. I purchased a plant, as well as a nacimiento (nativity scene) surrounded by globes containing seeds, for Edyth.

When I arrived at the pueblo magico, I was famished and decided to grab a taco. I didn’t recognize the town. It was much more developed, in an ugly concrete way, since 10 years earlier. Apparently, the last few mayors had been developers, with a vested interest in building out the town. And build they had. After a delicious meal, I tried to find Edyth’s home. I thought I’d located it on GPS, but wasn’t able to enter the neighborhood, as it seemed to be completely surrounded by a wall. Eventually I found an opening, and drove in. Kids were playing in the street, and the houses looked rather rickety. I’d texted Edyth, and was delighted when I saw her waving her arms in front of her house. Finally!

I came in and Jesus, who was now taller than Edyth, and very mature, offered to make hot chocolate. Ibarra style, of course. I was so happy, and gave everyone big hugs. I also met their tiger strip cat, who’d been abandoned. He was very sweet, had the softest fur, and put up with Monty’s abuse. We had so much to tell each other. After an hour or so, Edyth said she needed to continue work. She has little money and has to catch as catch can. She sells colored construction paper and stationary supplies out of her house. Neighbors peek through a small opening in her window and make their requests. Often Jesus or Monty are the ones that take the orders. All for a few pesos. Edyth had also started to do kids’ homework projects for money. But she wanted them to learn the material, and would sit them down to explain what she had done before giving them the finished work.

That night I stayed in Jesus’ bedroom. It was a bit cramped, with the bed taking up much of the space. and I had to jump onto it from the door. The walls did not extend to the ceiling, and I heard Edyth working away on her computer until 2am or so. Given that I’m a light sleeper, I had a lousy night sleep. Also, the toilet didn’t have a handle, so I couldn’t flush during the night. I’d noticed that the door handle was also falling apart, and wanted to do something to remedy that. The next day I asked if I might be able to stay with her mom, given that I was such a light sleeper given the lack of walls and late night computer work. She said yes, and Jesus accompanied me to her mom’s to ask permission. Adelfa is a wonderful woman, and I realized upon seeing her again how much I’d missed her. She had several small rooms next to her courtyard, and offered me one of them. An older gentleman stayed in the one next to me, which was problematic when he’d been out drinking and ended up slurring and talking to himself into the wee hours. But beggars can’t be choosers and I appreciated having the chance to spend with Adelfa.

I would wake up and head upstairs. Her bedroom was next to the outside stairwell on the way to the kitchen. Invariably she would be awake by the time I made it upstairs. I remember her helping me hang some of my wet clothes on her roof just outside the kitchen. Some of them flew into the neighbors yard because we didn’t have clothes pins, and a few fell into the chicken’s yard where they started pecking furiously at the strange garments. I ran downstairs and she yelled at the chickens to cease and desist. I loved hearing her stories. Sometimes she would tell me a bit about growing up in Oaxaca. She was an amazing cook, and always had some kind of soup on the stove. I loved making passionfruit (maracuya) smoothies with a banana and some yogurt. She was impressed and said that passionfruit prevented colds and was very healthy to drink.

One afternoon, she decided to make Chile en nogada, a classic dish from Puebla of poblano peppers stuffed with a sweet and savory picadillo (ground meat, fruits, and spices), covered in a creamy walnut sauce (nogada), and garnished with pomegranate seeds and parsley. It is traditionally made in September when seasonal ingredients like pomegranates and walnuts are available. The red, green, and white foods represent the colors of the flag, appropriate as September 15 is Independence Day. The smells were heavenly. She put it out on a platter and invited me to try. It was mouthwateringly fabulous, one of the most delicious and complex tastes I’ve ever experienced.

I felt sad that I rarely saw Edyth during my visit. I understood why she had to work constantly, but it hurt. I’d come all this way hoping to spend time with her, and essentially waited around for 9 days hoping to connect. Of course, I had fun activities that I started to do on my own. One day I headed to the hot springs at Hotel Aguas Termales de Chignahuapan. Adelfa was going to come too, but at the last minutes she changed her mind, saying she needed to see some friends. I drove there, stopping on the way at a small cafe in a lovely house. I asked for a latte, and they said their machine was off, so I would need to wait 10 minutes for it to come online.

I sat in the airy restaurant, enjoying the ambience and looking out the window. There were stores selling swimsuits and other regalia on this road, as the terminus was the hot springs. This area seemed much more touristy than other parts of town. The fact that a cafe offered espresso drinks here was proof. In other parts of town, it was near impossible to find an espresso. Just coffee. Usually cafe de la olla. I enjoyed the latte, then headed up to the hot springs. I parked and walked to the end of the road, crossing a river that cascaded through a dramatic canyon. The ambience was beautiful, and the pools were different temperatures. I sat outside and enjoyed the cool breeze. Chingnahuapan is at 7500 feet, so there was little danger of overheating. The hotel even had a temescal and steam room. I stayed for hours, and left when my skin turned pruny.

I remembered the neighboring beautiful town of Zacatlan de las Manzanas, which I had explored on my last visit. I decided to visit, and ended up exploring on 3 separate occasions, including for the festivities on the eve of September 15, Independence Day. The town seems culturally much more sophisticated than Chingnahuapan, known only for its Christmas ornaments. And the population seemed decidedly more educated and worldly. I made several acquaintances during my time, including the owner of the cake shop in town. We had nice conversations the few times I visited, and she told me that she had been trained in France. I walked around the market streets, where lots of wildcrafted medicinal and edible herbs and plants were sold. Wandering on the outskirts of town, I was amazed how close they were to unfettered wilderness.

Finally, I succeeded in prying Edyth away from her obligations. I invited she and her 2 kids to take a trip with me to nearby Zacatlan. They seemed to love the car ride, which was special as no one in the family had one. I parked in the historic center, and we walked around town, checking out the galleries selling beautiful pottery and other artisanal handicrafts. I had to be careful not to ply Monty with too much stuff, as her mom couldn’t. As we walked through the town, she told me all the things she wanted. I treated them all to hot chocolate and dessert at a lovely cafe near the edge of the Barranca de los Jilgueros. The servers, noticing 2 ansy kids, brought out a game of Jenga, and we spent the next hour laughing our heads off as we each tried to stack small pieces of wood into a tower. After that, we walked out to the barranca, an amazing overlook gazing out at the deeply carved river valley below. Jigueros means goldfinches, and it was impressive to see the mass of birds winging through the canyon.

Another day I took Adelfa, Edyth, and Monty to San Miguel Tenango. Adelfa asked to visit this small town, as she’d been before and had lovely memories. We wound our way down to the river Almoyola, surrounded by verdant life, and stopped to walk along the river and dip our hats in the water. Then we climbed up the other side of the canyon to the small town with its colorful buildings of adobe. Edyth and her mom strolled together, while Monty and I walked at a much faster pace, and saw the entire town in 15 minutes. Somehow we got separated from Edyth and Adelfa, and I worried that we wouldn’t reconnect. Monty and I walked out the way we came, marveling at the dramatic canyon sprawling below us. On our way to the car, we were intrigued by a field of zucchini-like plants behind one of the houses on the outskirts and got closer to take a look. We finally found Edyth and Adelfa in the art gallery in town, where I bought a tiny felt black cat with pink eyes and nose. I was missing my cat Henri, and this was a stand-in.

We had jovial gatherings with friends and family. One night, everyone came over to Adelfa’s and we walked next door. More relatives! They were in the middle of a boisterous feast, carrying on so loud I could barely hear the person next to me. I felt frustrated, because though my Spanish was normally adequate, they were using idioms and vernacular I’d never heard before. And fast. It was the same in Chile and Argentina. Double speed, my friend.

The next day was a huge group outing. We caravanned into the mountains near Cascada de Ciénega Larga. On the way, we stopped at a small village to meet Edyth’s godmother Elsa. The kids ran around the house while Elsa invited us to sit and drink coffee and sample fruit from her tree. Monty ran in with a clutch of fresh eggs, while Jesus hung out with a boy a bit younger. After an hour or so, we took off again. Elsa insisted we stop at Al Final de la Senda, a beautiful resort and restaurant where she works. We walked around the beautiful grounds, surrounded by Oyamel forest dominated by the sacred fir (Abies religiosa). This high-altitude cloud forest occurs at 8,000–11,000 ft in volcanic soil and is essential for provide overwintering for migratory monarch butterflies in Michoacan.

The air was fresh. Adelfa and I walked around the grounds, and took turns hugging a huge sacred fir. It was good to know that a place like this existed. It was one of the reasons I had fallen in love with Chingnahuapan a decade ago: the natural setting and preponderance of wild lands. The resort was closed for the day, but we still got to walk around the interior of the restaurant, and Elsa showed me one of the rooms. It was lovely and well-appointed. I would have loved to stay, though it was far away from my friends. It was an extremely special place, and I felt lucky to experience it.

We continued up the mountain, eventually turning off on a small dirt road. I sounded like they were familiar with this area having cut trees in the area. It was a very wet day, and rained much of the time. I guess that’s normal in a cloud forest. It was a blast. The young people and I walked, or rather ran, together. We sloshed our way through the muddy creek. In a few minutes my feet were soaked. It was a long hike, maybe an hour or so. We ran until we couldn’t tell where to go next, and waited for confirmation.

Finally the rest of the party joined and led us to a small path right of the road. We crossed a tumultuous stream, one by one, extending our hand and helping one another across. Suddenly, the vegetation opened and a waterfall crashed onto the rocks. We were ecstatic and danced around the rocks, some posing for photos, others scrambling to explore crevices around the falls. After a time, we headed back down the mountain. I had a deep conversation with Jesus and Elsa’s son as we headed back to the car. Finally we headed back to Elsa’s house, dropped them off, and arrived back in Chingnahuapan. We were too tired to eat, just hugged and stumbled into bed.

The next morning I said goodbye to Edyth’s family. It was really hard to leave, and I continue to miss them 1 1/2 years later. I decided to head to Tlaxcala, which I fell in love with on my first trip. On the way I walked around few pueblo magicos on the way: Apizaco, a pueblo magico with a beautiful church portico, and as always the beautiful landscape. I checked in at my Airbnb in Tlaxcala. It was the roomiest and most comfortable Airbnb I’ve ever stayed in, and an incredibly reasonable $25 per night. Other than the dog that saw me as an intruder, I was in paradise.