Dazed and confused

My eyes glazed over as I looked at the options. It was just too overwhelming.

Hundreds of cuts of meat were wrapped in sterile plastic, arranged neatly on spotless white shelves, illuminated by bright lights. There were so many options, and all of them looked so disconnected from each other. There was so much space and so much cleanliness that the meat locker at Meijer reminded me of a morgue or a museum.

It was all too much.

Now, I have to admit, I have never really liked meat shopping. And, while in Mexico, I never did work up the courage to buy my meat from the butcher at the outdoor market who would cut a chunk off of a dangling carcas and wrap it in plain paper. Still, the shock of grocery shopping finally caught up with me.

I miss Mexico.

I miss walking to the outdoor market, carrying my cloth bags and a pocket full of coins. I miss the smell of fresh tortillas and tamales and roasted corn and tacos al pastor while we're shopping. I miss driving to the supermarket and hiding my reusable bags in my purse bc I wasn't allowed to bring them in. I miss tipping the bagger and buying water and getting really excited at the pick-your-own pastries counter.

Here at Meijer, I had to buy a cake for 20. And it probably wasn't made in the bakery right there. The tortillas were full of preservatives in the refrigerated section. The salsa was so pathetic, I didn't even look, lest I get more depressed.

In my Mexican History class, we read an article exerpt from the 18th century explaining how Mexico City was the place for upper-class Europeans to visit. The colors were so unlike anything in drab Europe: the food, the dishes, the clothing, the flowers, the sunshine, the buildings, everything is bright with colors. And during the dry season, when it seems God has turned the world to gray, Mexican mujeres will still wear bright red scarfs and the men will paint their houses yellow, as if by coloring their world they can bring the rain sooner.

Now that I'm surrounded by green forests, and clean rain, and quiet nights, I'm still missing the colors and sound and feel of Mexico.
Maybe I will for a long time to come.