Most of the young people I know (including my own son) are already a decade beyond this youngster that from my vantage point now, seems like a mere child, even though in my heart I felt nothing like a child then. Or was trying hard not to. I was newly navigating adulthood, courting and experiencing all the things one needs to form a life on that shaky road: love, friendships, adventure, education, heartbreak and even danger.

In the town where I live in Mexico, most of the stores are about the size of a walk-in closet. La tiendita de la esquina (also known as the corner store) and la papelería (a “stationary” but oh-so-much-more store) are the heart and soul of a Mexican neighborhood. In my neighborhood alone, I count eight tienditas within a three block radius. Each one has it’s own flavor.

I fell in love with Mexico on my first trip in 1989. I was on my honeymoon and travelled around by bus for a month with my new husband. Merida, in the Yucatan was our first stop and when we arrived, it was a blissful sensorial shock to my system. The language fell melodious into my ears. The smells flowed through and out my pores. The vivid color threatened to burst my retinas. All of the “foreignness” intrigued me and I absorbed it like my sweat-soaked tank top in the jungle of Quintana Roo.