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The Victoria

GAZETTE

April 2011

         Strolling is probably the best way to describe what we do for the next couple of hours in Progresso.  We stroll down the sidewalk for four or five blocks, then cross the street and stroll down the other side back to the bridge.  While strolling, we are careful to not make eye contact with the vendors and the little Mexican kids selling jumping beans and beaded bracelets.  Eye contact gives them the opportunity to engage in hard sell tactics and then you can't get rid of them.  Sounds harsh, but that's just the way it is.

         At the Canada Store I add to my collection of silver serving pieces.  Next door I purchase a couple bottles of penicillin and a couple boxes of chiclets.  Mom bought a pretty Prada purse for herself and a First Communion present for Addie, one of her 26 great grandchildren.  Then it was margarita time at the Galleria,  Since it's happy hour in Mexico even on Sunday morning, we each had two.  Mexican margaritas are delicious and cheap -- only $1.50.

         The stroll now leads us back to the bridge but first we have to go through U.S. Customs where our passports are required and a bit of interrogation as to our purchases.  The armed guards continue to search vehicles as they drive out of Mexico and some people are asked to get out of their car.  Understandably, the guards take much more time with trucks than cars.

         Then we're free to walk back across the bridge over the Rio Grande into the U.S.A.  Part way across, displayed in the covered walkway, is a plaque indicating exactly where the dividing line -- the boundary between the two countries -- is located.  As we step off the bridge, we're again greeted by the chirping blackbirds in the parking lot.  Nearby is a giant pile or grain -- Dad said it's probably sorghum -- with hundreds more blackbirds swarming overhead  as well as creating dark patches on the pile like ink spots on a blotter.

***

         The main reason we went to spend time at home on the Rio Grande this year was my dad's birthday on March 5th.  In past years, we've had the best weather when visiting in March and this year was no exception.  Temperatures were in the 80's and although there was a brief downpour one afternoon, it cleared up fast.  

         Mom threw a birthday party for Dad that Saturday night and invited a dozen friends to their home to laugh and eat and sip a cocktail or two.  All of the guests were Winter Texans, all of them from Minnesota -- including from Starbuck, Bemidji, Gibbon, Kellior, and Blackduck.  They've made many other "new" friends in the Valley that hail from other places, like Canada. 

         Without calling it a meeting place, Mom and Dad and many other Winter Texans meet on a regular but unscheduled basis at a nearby fastfood place called Whataburger.  They go more for the coffee and the conversation than the food, and they bring their own Whataburger coffee mugs that they purchased years ago.  As a matter of fact, I've got my own Whataburger mug but I didn't pack it.  Coffee is free if you bring your Whataburger mug -- maybe it's a nickel -- and one thing common to Winter Texans is saving a nickle whenever possible.  While we were having coffee at Whataburger one morning, we saw out the window that the City of Alamo was putting on a parade, complete with a Big Red Fire Truck, marching bands, and roaring un-muffled motorcycles.  It lasted about a half hour with plenty of space between entries.  I've seen similar parades, without the Spanish flavor, at Belgian American Day in Ghent.

 

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That's my mom and dad in the Mexican bakery, always our first stop after we walk across the border into Progresso.