Our time in Juarez is nearing an end. In 37 days we will close the book on this tour. That’s about 24 more days of work. Five more Saturdays. Maybe a thousand more visa interviews conducted. Fewer than 100 more tacos to eat. The countdown is on, and moving fast.
The mathematics of departure hit me in an unexpected way this week. I was cooking scrambled eggs, as I do every morning. I cut the veggies, heated the pan, scrambled the eggs, and whisked in a dash of Salsa Valentina, for a little flavor. I love this sauce. It is ubiquitous in this part of Mexico as Heinz Ketchup is back home. It’s in every grocery store, and on the table at lots of restaurants. Its uses are many. I’ve had it on tacos, in eggs, on potato chips at sporting events, and even in my beer at a fancy restaurant. Some of my Mexican colleagues keep bottles of Valentina at their desks to drizzle on their lunch. Valentina is just a part of life here, and it has occupied a place in our fridge ever since we arrived.
And it hit me, as I scrambled my eggs, that this is my last bottle of Valentina in Mexico. I won’t eat enough of it in the next 37 days to merit buying another one. This bottle might travel in the cooler in the car (if CBP lets it past), a nostalgic reminder of the borderland, until it ends its life in a recycling bin somewhere. It makes me feel a bit sad.
There are so many last things when you move away from a place. Last day at work or school. Last lunch with that special friend. Last time at a favorite park, or restaurant, or market. We sometimes notice when we are doing these last things, and mark the occasions with appropriate grief, or reflection, or maybe happiness if it is something we are glad to leave behind. But more often we don’t even know that we are doing something for the last time. I had no idea that I was buying my last bottle of Valentina when I took it off the shelf a few weeks ago. I just did it like it was a normal thing. It makes me wonder what other last things I have done without noticing. And what others will come to pass.
I am sad to leave Juarez. There are many places and people who I will miss deeply as we move onto the next adventure. We have made amazing friends here. We have eaten fantastic meals. We’ve worked hard, and found meaning in that work. We have added to our numbers as we welcomed little J into the world, and adopted Luci the chihuahua from Chihuahua. Our time in Juarez has been special, and watching it end is not easy.
We could say that every ending leads to a new beginning, which of course is true. But that doesn’t make the endings any easier.
So I intend to experience these next few weeks reflectively and deliberately, like the conclusion to a good book or movie. A pleasant denouement that allows me to treasure what has been good here. There is a lot of work to be done as I clean out my desk and as we pack up the house, but I will pause to enjoy the taste of that hot sauce, and those tacos. I will contemplate the oven-hot wind that blows on my face as I dodge pot holes on my bicycle. I will enjoy time with my Foreign Service friends, treasuring the fact that we share parallel journeys to different destinations, and eagerly anticipating the growth of these friendships, despite the oceans that will soon separate us. I will appreciate time with Mexican friends and colleagues, enjoying the warmth of the conversation, and the jokes in Spanish (that I understand a little bit better all the time). I will think about the visa applicants, and the lessons they teach me about the deep and wonderful connections between these two great countries. The next chapter will begin soon enough, but I plan to enjoy this one until the last letter in the last paragraph.