Dad made several trips to Leon, Guanajuato, the footwear manufacturing capital of Mexico. He bought his lasts there, for the shop and to sell to other boot makers; they are made of mesquite wood. Lasts are also made of plastic, but i've never tried them.
In April of 1985 mom accompanied dad on one of those trips; the proceedure was to give Santos, the last maker, a deposit, and he would make the run, which is 36 pairs, he would take about a month to complete the order. So they drove down to Leon, paid, and for four weeks they traveled Mexico. I don't remember where they went and who they saw, but dad might have dropped mom off in Durango and gone on his own adventure.
That year i was actually working in a shop in Wichita Falls, owned by a friend, but i took time off to keep dads shop working. When they came back from mexico with the lasts, i went back to work with my friend. In October, i left for good because dad gave me the shoe repair business, so he could concentrate on boot making.
Two years later, dad had placed an order of lasts and had a daughter from his first marrige to get the money to Santos in Leon, so all he had to do was pick them up. Mom must have enjoyed their last trip, because she decided to tag along again and, somehow, i got roped into going with them. It may have been that mom talked me into it because those long hours of driving were weighing heavy on dad. So, we closed up shop for over a week, and off we went. It doesn't take a week to get to Leon and back; what happened was that we first went to the state of Puebla, which is just east of Mexico City, to visit a family friend. From Puebla we made our way north to the colonial style city of Leon; we spent the night there in a fancy old hotel downtown, i think it was the Rex. In the morning, Mr. Santos met us out front in his little pickup truck and we transferred the three large bean sacks from his truck to dad's Ford f150 with a camper shell on it.
My objective here was not to reminisce about that trip, so i wont go into all the details; i will say that it was an enjoyable trip for me. It did surprise me back then that i had enjoyed it like i did; it would be the last time i would travel with both of them, i was 26 years old. My point in all this is that mom and dad were different people in Mexico.
Mom never really learned much english, she understood a little and spoke less. Dad never got involved with anything besides some church activities.
They never got involved in our school or had any kind of parties, and we didn't go to many places; dad was against getting involved in what he called "worldly things". In Mexico, though, they stayed in nice hotels and ate in cool restaurants; they knew where to shop and how to deal with merchants. I remember following mom around in a downtown area, can't remember what city, we went down this side street with rows of shops until she found the one she wanted. The door was open and it was a small room full of herbs, small plants, dried flowers, and different colored powders in open sacks; the old gentleman there was a yerbero, someone that deals in herbs and teas. Mom was doing some shopping and the man turns to me and says: can i interest you in anything?, i said i was good, thanks. He reaches out with his hand, bends my right ear painfully forward with his thumb, pushes down on my nose with his middle finger, and tells me that i suffered from chest pains and a dark outlook on life; i was tempted to say yes just to see what he would sell me for that, but i just stared at him and said: not really, no. I should have asked if he had anything for a bruised ear.
Mexico was just a better experience with people who knew how to deal with it. And it was great to see them in their own element and striking up conversations with people everywhere we went.
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