Algodones

With a few days off work and a strong desire to get away from chilly weather, I headed south toward Lake Havasu City to visit Brenda. (This is Brenda of Billiards and Jet-Ski fame.)

Somewhere north of Vegas, I sent a quick text: We should run down to Mexico.

Even as I sent the text, I wondered how difficult it would be to get back into the U.S. as I'd forgotten my passport. (Truth be told...the Mexico idea just kinda popped into my head while driving. It wasn't really planned. Not one bit.) But, I remembered a time a few years ago, going into Canada and only having a driver's license. I got back into the country.

We parked the car in the secure border lot. Unlike the border lot I stayed at last year near Las Palomas, this lot was surrounded by tall chain link fencing.

We had to pay money to park in the day-trip lot. Here, another pay lot was reserved for overnight vehicles.

We went through the Mexican portal and entered the busy streets of Algodones, a town famous for dental work. Later in the day, someone told me that so much dental work and oral surgeries are performed there that the town boasts the highest number of dentists per capita. I'm not sure if that's true, but plenty of dental hawker lined the streets, waving papers and holding out business cards.

"Do you need dental work, Miss?"

"Senora, I can take you to the best dentist in town."

Later I found out these dental hawkers are paid $100 USD per week by their dentist-bosses. For every client they bring in, they earn $5 that just passes as cash from the dentist to the hawker on a daily basis.

I stopped to look at a shop selling baja blankets, a semi thick blanket of thick cotton weaving. Colorful geometric patterns danced in neat rows on each blanket. I could buy these for $9 in the states. I wondered what they cost here.

"Ah, you like, Miss? I have the best one for you!" The shopkeeper enthusiastically pounced on the stack of blankets, lifting each one with great show until he reached a grey one at the bottom, proclaiming "Ah! The best one!"

"Are you sure that's the very best?" I asked, my eyes quickly darting to a softer, more colorful blanket in the middle of the shelf.

"The very best! Only nine dollar!"

"That's what I can pay for it in the States!"

He moved toward me. "You tell how much. We make a deal."

"I don't know," I drawled, reaching for the soft colors of the other one. "What about this one?"

The shopkeeper quickly put the grey blanket on top of the stack and reached for the colorful one, lifting it from the shelf just as I touched it. "This....this is very nice!"

"It is very soft, but it feels like synthetic fabric."

"No, no, Miss!" Another shopkeeper rushed over. "This is pure cotton. The best!"

Turning to this man, a younger one, I replied, "It feels synthetic."

He took the blanket from the older man and lifted it toward me again. "One hundred percent pure cotton!"

Again, I put my hand on the blanket. As I lifted a corner to feel the weight, I saw the tag and flipped it upward as I read, "Fifty-percent polyester, Fifty-percent acrylic! Naaaghhh!" I flipped my hand in the air as if to say stop the nonsense.

The shopkeepers laughed as I walked away.

After a little more wandering, Brenda said she wanted to sit down somewhere as she was dealing with recovery from a broken foot. We found a yellow plaza with a cantina and some musica, namely a man singing in the courtyard. We ordered food and drinks and enjoyed the early afternoon.

We knew we'd have to get going soon. The drive back to Havasu took three hours. So...while Brenda finished her food, I ran to the supermercado to look at stuff that wasn't sold to tourists and--maybe--pick up some Mexican tea or soap.

As I walked to the store, I avoided the dental hawkers and shopkeepers by walking along the cars parked in street. I moved quickly and found the shop with ease.

On the way back, I had to walk on the sidewalk part of the way, but no one bothered me about dental work. When I stopped to look at a shop, no one rushed up to me, beckoning me to buy their wares.

Back in the yellow courtyard, all the tables--except Brenda's--had been pushed aside, and a man mopped the floor.

"He said they close at two!" Brenda exclaimed when she saw me.

"That's strange," I said, setting my bags on the table. "This guy is still singing." I waved my hand toward the musician.

"But look at the shopkeepers," Brenda said, nodding her head toward a vendor in the plaza who quickly bundled items from shelves and put them in cabinets beneath. He moved swiftly.

"Maybe we'd better go, then," I suggested.

"Yeah, we still have a long drive back," Brenda agreed.

As we walked along the once-busy streets, an eerie quiet had settled in. It was like an amusement park at closing time. The pharmacy and liquor store by Trump's big beautiful wall were open, but not much else.

"The fence is closed! The fence is closed!" A man came running after us.

I turned to look at him. They close it?"

"Yes," he said.

"No way? Really?!" My mind started rushing. Ideas of spending the night in Mexico and telling my boss I'd be a day late flooded my mind. I would need a toothbrush and a change of clothes. I turned to Brenda and said, "I gotta see it."

"How can we get back? What are our options?" Brenda--ever practical--asked the man as I crossed the street toward the wall and found both the pedestrian gate and the auto gate closed.

I walked toward it, putting my hands on the sun-warmed metal as I peered through to the other side.

Not a single American official was in sight.

Now....I love the wall. A nation must have borders to be a sovereign land. Sure, we are a melting pot, but there are rules about coming into our country. I've met plenty of immigrants who did it the legal way and feel the same.

But...the irony of it all hit me like a brick. I was kept out of my own country by Trump's wall. I laughed as I headed back to Brenda.

As I approached, she called to me. "This man says we have to get my car from the lit by seven, or it will get impounded."

I looked at my clock. "That gives us almost five hours to figure out how to get back."

"This man says he and his family will take us to the border crossing in San Luis. It will cost us $85."

"Then what? How do we get back to Algodones?" I stepped up on the curb and joined her and the man.

The man said, "I have a driver who can take you from San Luis to Algodones."

Brenda looked at me. "We did say we'd have an adventure today!"

While we waited for the man's wife and niece to show up, he talked with us about how nice Algodones is and about all the dentists in the town. "I work for the best dentist. He does surgeries, and people come from all over for his service."

Soon, an older SUV pulled up. The man, Jorge, loaded our bags. As he did, he said, "We are good people, a family. We will get you to San Luis safely."

After loading ourselves into the car, Jorge jumped in, and we were on our way.

We passed through the outskirts of town, and Jorge would point things out to us. Sometimes his wife would point something out, with Jorge filling in the details as if we were on a special tour.

For just a moment, I worried that this was all a set up and Brenda and I would be handed over to the cartel and taken into deepest Mexico. I turned on my phone's map app just in case and followed our progress.

Once out of the tight neighborhood and streets bustling with after-school activity, Jorge picked up speed. "Forty-five minutes," he yelled back to us over the road noise and wind.

As we passed the gap in the wall near Yuma, I pointed it out to Brenda. "We could just cross there!"

From the front, Jorge said, "You'll get shot!

Soon, we were in San Luis, unloading our bags and saying our goodbyes. He had contacted a driver he knows on the other side of the wall who would pick us up on the other side. "Number 9. Look for that taxi number," he said.

Jorge insisted on walking us all the way to the U.S. Customs door. "I can't go any further," he said.

We thanked him and proceeded through, only to wait in line while three agents worked the desks, processing people into the United States.

"I hope you can get back in," Brenda said.

Custom's agent Carlos called Brenda to the desk. I didn't know whether to go with her or wait in line, so after some hesitation, I joined her at the desk.

Carlos checked our bags, making sure we each only carried one alcohol into the States. "Do you have anything seed-bearing," he asked next.

"Seed-bearing..." I repeated his words, the English teacher in me thinking what perfectly descriptive, concise language this young man spoke.

"Yes, ma'am, like apples, oranges, plants..."

"Nothing bearing seed," I said.

"So you have nothing to declare?"

"Nothing to declare," I said for Brenda and me.

Next he checked my driver's license, looked at me, and waving us off said, "Enjoy your day, ladies!"

Back in the U.S., we found Taxi #9. The driver hopped from the cab and helped us load packages in the vehicle.

The ride back to the Algodones border lot was much quicker. The roads were also smoother.

With time to spare, we recovered Brenda's car and headed back to Havasu.

Now that I'm back in Escalante, I kind of think being stuck south of the border for awhile doesn't sound too bad. 😎