“…poor México, poor United States, so far from God, so near to each other.” Carlos Fuentes The Crystal Frontier
“Hola, amigo gringo!” The friendly fishmonger of Pescaderia La Tempesta looked at me kindly as I was admiring his catch of the day at the Mercado Lucas de Gálvez in downtown Mérida, the capitol city of the Mayan Yucatan.
“I’ll hire gringo immigrants when La Naranja finally drives you loco! Come here, put on an apron and visit my shop.” Little did my new friend know that I’d grown up in a white apron, working for my parents in our family restaurant. I was not a fish out of water.