The things I can expect

Last night I was walking home from painting class and wished for a recording of what I was passing by. It seemed everyone was out on their door stoop. Kids were running around and zooming by on their bikes. Makeshift taco and tamale stands were set up in doorways with extension cords reaching to light small bulbs. Three elderly women sat huddled together in lively conversation and called out "Buenas noches, que te vae bien" as I walked by. Men sat sharing beers in a mechanic shop.

On our street Tlaxcala our neighbor Jesus and his wife sit with their two friends in the corner park that hugs their house. Every evening like clockwork they are out chatting for a few hours until the sun goes down.

Around 7:00 each night the pan (bread) delivery man cruises up the street with his notorious theme song blaring. People come out of their homes to view his assortment of pastries and breads before he pops back into his truck and drives down the next block.

Each morning our sidewalk is met from both neighbors who sweep. Our neighbor Jesus and our other neighbor Rosa cover us from both sides to ensure that the sidewalk is clear of obstacles.

The young boy who lives next door to us practices his trumpet in the evenings and transports himself by skateboard to go and meet up with his friends when he is finished.

The spunky waitress Marcela is always waiting tables at the Don Benja taco stop two blocks from us and will call out to the street if she sees us walking by.

Estetica Lupita around the corner from us serves as both a garage and hair salon. There are always women chatting in this space. Josh likes to get his hair cut here.

There are details that I will long remember about this place, and have made me feel comfortable and happy in a foreign land.