Last week I had the extraordinary experience of being 19 years old again.
As a gringa living in San Miguel de Allende (SMA), in the state of Guanajuato in central Mexico, I am often asked: “Is this your first time here?” While my last time was earlier in 2011 (see January and February archives), my first time was actually in 1974, at the age of 19. I had spent five days in SMA, en route to explore other parts of Mexico, after living and working for some months in the nearby colonial city of Guanajuato. This past winter, while in SMA for 8 glorious weeks, I had thought to make the one-hour bus trip to revisit Guanajuato after 37 years, but I simply did not do it, and might have continued avoiding my past, had it not been for a friend, author Susan Cobb, who made a date to accompany me.
Before I recount what I discovered on this recent trip, permit me to tell you how I came to live in Guanajuato in the first place: After working all summer of 1974 in Vail, CO, I managed to save a whopping $400, which was not sufficient funds to return to University of New Mexico in Albuquerque, where I had completed a year of credit. Instead, I decided to go to Mexico where, I figured, I could have a grand adventure for cheap and practice Spanish, which I had studied throughout junior and senior high school.
In that very different, less fearful world of 1974, I gave no thought to hitchhiking from Denver to El Paso, walking across the international footbridge into Ciudad Juarez for 2¢, and boarding a Chihuaheses (Greyhound) bus south. I didn’t have a guide book or even a map, and no idea of a destination. When I couldn’t stand being on the bus a moment longer, I got off and, as good fortune would have it, I was in Guanajuato; arguably the most beautiful and colorful city in Mexico. 
It is both a historic city – famous for its wealth from nearby silver mines that created splendid examples of colonial architecture and playing a major role in The Mexican War of Independence (1810-1821) – and a cultural center – with the Teatro Juarez (see images), la Universidad, the Cervatino Festival each October (that I experienced in its 2nd year, from the rooftop of the pension in which I lived right in Plaza San Roque) and a World Heritage Site designation in 1988.
Memories, at least for me, seemed to be stored in the stories I have kept and retold, and after 37 years and many travels and adventures in the interim, I was assailed, upon reentering the historic central zone of the city, by a flood of forgotten memories.
Upon entering the grand Mercado, I recalled conversations and bargaining for wooden utensils, terracotta bowls, fruits and vegetables. In those days it was normal to bargain for everything.
On the street in front, the perennial hawkers and vendors seemed like the same ones from decades before, perhaps the sons and daughters of those I had seen. I imagined the layout of the hotel I had stayed in nearby, for a week, where I encountered a giant scorpion for the first time. “Don’t worry,” said the owner in response to my screams of terror, “It’s a big one. You only need to be careful with the small ones.” Although not reassured, I was enchanted by the new and foreign world into which I had cast myself.
Susan and I wandered amid outrageously colorful buildings on winding stone streets full of college-age students, just as when I was there. In my mind’s eye I could see the actual faces of my friends and recalled Beatles songs that had been sung to me in the Jardin by eager young men with guitars, wanting to impress with their only knowledge of English.
The students walked purposefully, having places to go and friends to meet up with. I remembered how it felt to live there, to be 19 and have friends with whom to engage in late night philosophical conversations in bars and then to trudge up steep alleyways to the only cheap quesadilla joint still open at 2 or 3 a.m. I thought about how we are all in our 50s now, having lived essentially whole lives… jobs, careers, marriages, children, dreams fulfilled, or not. And, no doubt, some had already died, or suffered major illnesses and accidents.
There was no point in wondering what had unfolded for Alfredo, a large and friendly fellow whose slight by feisty madre owned the pension, or “Dirty Panther,” my funny curly-haired boyfriend whose real name was Jesus, or Marianna, my housemate who had been a belly dancer in San Francisco, as we did not keep in touch after I left. Long-distance communications were difficult and expensive in 1974.
But I reflected on my life and the young woman who, with no one to be responsible to or care where I was, made friends, found enjoyable work, and was courageous and present for life’s grand adventures. I realized that I am the same person I was at 19 who still does not know what lies ahead, as we never do… despite the delusion of all our planning and goal setting.
Yes, of course I now have more knowledge and wrinkles, but it’s not what we acquire that matters; what’s important is what we leave behind. I hope that I am leaving a trail of kindness and encouragement. We are all just passing through…
After an emotional day revisting a beautiful place I once lived, I concluded that if the wondrous and predominantly benevolent experiences of my past are any indication, there is no reason to fear the future. As a Mexican boy once sang to me in the Guanajuato Jardin, “All you need is love.”
Your blog on revisiting Guanajuato was most enjoyable to read. I, too, came to Mexico as a callow youth in th eearly ’70s, enrolled in the very first freshman class at the then-brand new campus of the University of the Americas in Cholula. I had grown up in Stamford, Connecticut and after a year and a half at the U of A I transferred to UNAM’s school for foreigners in Mexico City, where I spent a semester before returning to the States. I had not returned to central Mexico in 40 years when last May I flew from Seattle to Mexico City, arriving in the D.F. on very nearly the 40th anniversary of my arrival as a non-Spanish speaking student fresh out of high school. As luck would have it, one of my best friends from the U of A, a political exile from post-coup Chile, invited me to spend several weeks in his lovely spacious apartment in the La Condesa district of Mexico City. Then starting last August I was able to live a fantasy I had harbored since my Cholula days — to spend a few months living in San Miguel among the writers, painters and other adventurous souls who comprise its expat community. (I had only visited SMA once for a few days in the ’70s and fell under its spell, always intending to return.) I have just returned to Mexico from Powell River, B.C., where I make my home these days, and I am looking forward to a very pleasant fall and winter in this land of dreams, which hasn’t really changed all that much except that the gringo population has put on a few years, although looks can be deceiving. Underneath I suspect we’re all still 19 at heart, no?
Aysha, this was such a fantastic day. So glad we could share it together. Let’s make some more memories that you can look back on in another 35 years! HAH! See you over the hill. I hear it’s sunny there :-)))
Nice story Aysha. So bittersweet!
Well this is an amazing personal retrospective Aysha – and from one of the most interesting people I know. Guanajauto is an amazing city. I’ve only been once and only for an all too short three day stint – but to read about this bit of protracted serendipity – well it’s truly like the stuff ob book and movies. Best of all perhaps is that i now know not to be concerned about really large ominous Scorpions. No longer will i be bothered by that!! Those I reckon can crawl across me if they really need to traverse from one place to the next – and I am in their way. But the little guys will continue to be greeted with the bottom of my boot!
Aysha, I love the vivid way you describe what you have seen and are ‘seeing’. I love reading these blogs – so keep them coming.
Now I must go and make coffee for us and slice upo some Jalapeno bread, slather some butter on and pop in the oven. Sounds like a fitting beginning to our second morning here in you gorgeous home!
Keep em coming!
BTW: David promised to play the drums for us one night. I trust you will place whatever pressure is required on him to insure he fullfills on that!
Ray, Thank you for sharing your story of inhabiting your dream! We should get together and toast to our inner 19 year olds!
Susan, What adventures, Serendipty and joy the gift of each day presents… like meeting you just this past February at the SMA Writers’ Conference and feeling like we are old friends! To imagine 35 years more of allowing creativity and love to unfold, brings a huge smile and deep sense of appreciation to my whole being! Let’s keep sharing the sunshine!
Hi Rick, I always love receiving your words, so thanks for the comments (Please keep them coming!). I’m not sure it’s true about the scorpions, so I’d caution against being cavalier regarding them. As for David’s drumming for anyone, I have no influence despite my persistent encouragement and support of his world-class talent… which I hope you get to enjoy!
Loved reading this story about revisiting a place once so dear to you at an important point in your life. It rekindled my long-held dream to revisit the tiny village in Calabria, Southern Italy, where I spent an amazing summer as a 20 year old. I’m afraid that unlike your beautiful city in Mexico, though, it has probably changed vastly, with indoor plumbing, electric lights and TVs, all of which were almost non-existant when I lived there. And it has probably become modernized in other ways, too, which in my mind would be a major loss. Living there was an enormous culture shock for me, but in a good way. I hope I do return one day and thanks for rekindling that dream!
Loved the story and the many insights it communicated and, yes, you are leaving trails of kindness and encouragement. I can attest to it. Thanks so much for sharing yourself with us all. E x
Aysha, what a wonderful adventurous life you’ve led. And I’m so fortunate to know you and to read your well written, witty, insightful prose. I’m signed up now, so I’m looking forward to many more beautiful insights.
Love you my dear friend! Nancy
Nancy, thanks for your kind and encouraging words! I also feel fortunate and blessed to call you my friend, and to be sharing this grand adventure of our lives in San Miguel!
Eve, Coming from you, one of the kindest spirits I’ve ever met, this means the world to me – thank you and many blessing on you in far away Bolivia!
Hi Carolyn,
I think that Guanajuato has changed as well in all the technological ways you fear probably have happened in Calabria, but I don’t see those as detracting from the beauty and spirit of the place and people. All the modern changes are to be expected, but the soul remains; kind of like us aging in body but still the same people inside. I hope you get to fulfill that dream and find yourself again 20 and full of energy, hope and wonder!