through the looking glass

a long, long time ago, I visited mexico for the first time. I think about it occasionally, as I’m pretty sure it’s the trip that implanted the travel bug. i’d been abroad with my parents, islands mostly, but nothing adventurous, nothing exotic or real in the way travel is maybe supposed to be. recent coincidences have forced me to look back in time, and I’m not entirely unhappy about the randomly resurfacing memories. like repeatedly pilfering the gameboy of a kid who didn’t (imho) look out the window enough, who has apparently gone on to be one of the most well travelled people I know. or a very memorable kiss by a palm laden moonlit pool.

but the memory that I think started it all is this.

we went horseback riding. mind you, the horses were not what one might consider tame. not even by chinese standards. and someone saw fit to put my, what, 13 year old self on a stallion. breathtakingly beautiful, but absolutely willful. I think I’d been on a horse once before. the group started off away from the farm, destination unknown or unremembered. my stallion tested me, ran my legs through pricker bushes, turning one eye back to see if I’d flinch. I didn’t. I’m not sure if this means I passed or failed.

off in the distance shimmered a lake, a handmade stone wall descending in. as the rest of the group made their leisurely way, my stallion stopped. turned that eye to me once again. and bolted, full throttle towards the lake, towards the wall, and for one exhilerating moment into the air, flying over it.

I don’t remember how it ended. I remember the guide yelling and me, smile plastered across my face and waving as we galloped across the open land. ‘don’t worry,’ at the top of my lungs, ‘this is amazing!’

I remember the way back, because one of the others (who shall even now remain nameless) was thrown while we crossed a stream. farm in sight, guides behind helping the fallen rider, a few of us ended up a bit ahead. maybe they were hungry or tired, or maybe they wanted a firework finish. three horses took off for home. only they didn’t follow the path, they headed straight as the crow flies, though that line crossed directly through the cropland. which was mud. I remember seeing the other horses almost up to their chests in mud, wondering at that kind of strength. I remember the feeling of ground skimming just barely under the soles of my boots. I remember wishing I’d a hat to throw in the air and yell yeeehaw

a kiss, keep-away with a gameboy, and flying. no matter how many times I return, that is how I will always remember mexico.