Dec 25, 2014 Feliz Navidad from the windy desert

FELIZ NAVIDAD

Best wishes from the deserts of eastern California! Doug and I are in his truck camper, parked on open land owned by BLM (Bureau of Land Management). There are maybe 30 RV’s scattered across two miles of this rocky desert. We came to this particular spot to spend Christmas with a small group of Boondockers, ; there are 10 rigs parked here and yon with a fire pit as “home base.” There’s no water, sewer, or electricity provided by the desert, so the RV’ers bring their own. Boondockers pride themselves in the myriad of ways they can use solar and skimp on water; it’s also part of the game to park for free. Most of the Boondockers live full-time in their RV’s and some have gone for years without plugging into an electric pole or paying for an RV spot; they simply migrate with the weather. The type of RV’s range from $300,000 motorhomes to truck campers; all of the rigs are tricked out with fancy/expensive solar panels. Doug has $6,000 worth on solar on both his 40 foot motorhome and his truck camper. Boondockers refer to themselves as affluent homeless; they have money, they just don’t want to spend it on “stick houses.”
Last week we took the car down to Puerto Penasco, Mexico, to visit Bones and Ruth, two friends I made on my motorcycle trip around the perimeter of the US. They’ve lived in Mexico for years and took us to many out-of- the-way places, including a couple of their favorite food push carts. I found many opportunities to brush up on my Spanish – my pronunciation is still pretty good but my vocabulary is very limited. We visited an orphanage, Esperanza para los Ninos (hope for the children). The cinder block buildings were clean, the playground well used, the kitchen bustled, and children were scattered around, enjoying the holidays. Abraham, a shy 4 year old, said his best friend’s name is Carlos; the Director explained that Carlos is Abraham’s 6 year old brother. Abraham and Carlos are the youngest residents at the orphanage; their father brought them two years ago. When I asked of the possibility of the brothers returning to family, the Director just shrugged and said their father brought them because he needed help (“ayuda”) She explained about half of their 30 children were voluntarily placed by family and the others are there at the direction of the “gobierno” (Government) — interesting that she did not say “la corte” (Court). My time and Spanish were too limited to go into the process used in Mexico to remove children from their family involuntarily because of neglect or abuse. But my head and my heart were glad to see a place so clearly meeting the needs of “the least of these, my children.” Email contact for the orphanage is esperanza631@hotmail.com
“Puerto Penasco” is Spanish for port of rocks, and from Puerto Penasco an array of boats harvest shrimp, clams, oysters, and a variety of fish. They sell fresh sea food locally and export vast quantities to other countries. The pictures show something of their 15-plus feet tidal surge.
Many people shy away from trips into Mexico, afraid of being caught up in the violence between the drug cartels. Puerto Penasco is only an hour south of the border, on the eastern edge of the Sea of Cortez. Known as the Arizona Beach, at one time it enjoyed a great deal of Gringo tourism but less today because of fear. I felt comfortable there; Bones has lived in Mexico for 10 years. I’ll go again – the seafood is incredible and the people are diverse and engaging.
After four days with Bones and Ruth, we crossed the border back into the States. The Border Patrol doesn’t want to talk to two gray-haired, white faced gringos, so we didn’t even have to slow down.
We stopped for Chinese and got back to the motorhome in Tucson on Saturday night; I went to a Quaker Meeting on Sunday and then washed clothes. We packed up the truck camper and left again on Monday morning, heading towards Yuma to do some boondocking. Once we were set up here in the desert, we headed south to cross the border for the day at Los Algodones where we got our teeth cleaned and did a bit of shopping – with chile rellenos and margaritas for lunch, of course. I got to talk with a woman only slightly younger than I – she’s a crippled street vendor who is raising three granddaughters. This picture includes a couple of extra friends and big smiles. Though her English is very good, I preferred to speak in Spanish which she closely monitored, with gentle corrections. I am very conscious that I have not “earned” my life history – born an American to caring, well-educated parents, good health, good education, great job opportunities – and that this kind lady did nothing “wrong”; to the contrary, she is doing everything right, to offer stability and a better life to three young girls.
We had planned an outside Christmas dinner in the desert with the other boondockers, but a wind storm changed those plans to an indoor Chinese buffet in Yuma. We’re back in the camper now; the wind is howling and rocking the rig. Tomorrow we’ll go back to Algadones to pick up my new eye glasses – and have margaritas and chile rellenos.