Families Converge in Creel
We arrived in Creel, Chihuahua (perhaps 10 hours south of the border) a good 45 minutes after our agreed upon meeting time. We had already walked through the town and scoured the train station for any signs of the Moore-Bloom clan – our co-conspirators in this Mexican adventure. Talia and Sabina were jumping out of their skins with excitement at the prospect of being with Ruby and Arlo, Brian and Susanna’s children.
This was the adventure that had been proposed, picked apart and planned over the course of many summertime camping trips in the sierra of California. As childless couples, Brian, Susanna, Daniel and I had all worked together as volunteers in El Salvador after the peace accords and had promised that once we had children, we would return to Central America or Mexico to work and live for a time.
Where were they? Brian is never late. Had they headed further into the canyon? We watched Tarahumara women in colorful skirts wrap their tender babies in slings on their backs. We watched expert basket and shawl weavers’ ply their trades. We bought soda and chips to pass the time. Suddenly, a street kid pops his head through the open window in the car and yells something in my ear. It’s Arlo!! Hugs and hellos and road stories abound. Their morning hours of driving were windy dirt roads and slow travel. Let the next chapter of the road trip begin!
We arrived in Creel, Chihuahua (perhaps 10 hours south of the border) a good 45 minutes after our agreed upon meeting time. We had already walked through the town and scoured the train station for any signs of the Moore-Bloom clan – our co-conspirators in this Mexican adventure. Talia and Sabina were jumping out of their skins with excitement at the prospect of being with Ruby and Arlo, Brian and Susanna’s children.
This was the adventure that had been proposed, picked apart and planned over the course of many summertime camping trips in the sierra of California. As childless couples, Brian, Susanna, Daniel and I had all worked together as volunteers in El Salvador after the peace accords and had promised that once we had children, we would return to Central America or Mexico to work and live for a time.
Where were they? Brian is never late. Had they headed further into the canyon? We watched Tarahumara women in colorful skirts wrap their tender babies in slings on their backs. We watched expert basket and shawl weavers’ ply their trades. We bought soda and chips to pass the time. Suddenly, a street kid pops his head through the open window in the car and yells something in my ear. It’s Arlo!! Hugs and hellos and road stories abound. Their morning hours of driving were windy dirt roads and slow travel. Let the next chapter of the road trip begin!
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