My Home Is Your Home

One thing I've ceased to believe in throughout the trip is in"good luck"...

Some people often wish us good luck, and others might even believe we already have it. It's understandable, considering everything has gone so nicely and smoothly so far.

Sometimes the over-saturation of bad news on our phones leads us to believe that the world outside of the comforts of our homes, neighborhoods and social circles is filled with threatening and ill-intentioned villains. That it's only because of our "good luck" if we've had the privilege of avoiding such encounters. It's not that I don't believe in luck out of naivety— I'm well aware of the risks and dangers our adventure has put us in proximity to. However, it's not "good luck" so much as good people who have kept us from experiencing any extreme, uncomfortable or inconvenient situations. Whom have made it possible for us to be here and continuing to do this.

Our "luck" is conformed by all those who have lent us a hand, a smile, and have kept us warm with a blanket or a roof over our heads, often without our asking for it. From the people who revive us with a "cheer up, yes you can!" When our legs didn't give any more, even those who share a taco with us, fill our bottles with water, take the time to give us an address, or help us in any way to reach our destination. The kindness of unknown people is what has led us on this journey, without which we definitely would not have gotten here.

The other day, my dad and I arrived in Nauzontla (Puebla) exhausted from a long ride in the rain and a pure climb. We were struck by an older woman standing in front of her house, combing and braiding her long white hair that reached almost to her knee.

We stopped to ask her if she knew of a place to eat, and she offered to accompany us to her daughter's restaurant. However, when we arrived they had already finished the meal and they didn't even have tortillas left :( It was then that Doña Evangelina invited us to eat at her house.

At 72 years of age, this lady decided to let two strangers come to her humble home, sit at her table, and she still served them a cup of coffee, a plate of pipián, another of mole, rice, beans, and for of course, many, many tortillas. She even confessed to us that she was about to go out on an errand when we found her getting ready outside her house.

It never ceases to amaze me how there can be so many people willing to open their homes and hearts to us. To sacrifice his time to help us, denying the presumption that our nature as human beings is to act from an individualistic self-interest.

In my upbringing and in the society with which I grew up, the house is a sacred, private space, and reserved for family and loved ones. Do not open the doors to just anyone. But in the last 9 months, we have been welcomed into hundreds of other people's homes. It is an inexplicable feeling that so many people show us that trust by sharing their home with us. After all, they are sharing a piece of their lives with us.

Each house is different and peculiar, reflecting the character of those who inhabit it. And in our experience, we have realized that every house is beautiful when the energy it emits paints it that way.

Many times they invite us to stay the night, other times to break bread, to protect our things, or simply to live together. They have even offered us to go to the bathroom or take a hot shower! Even after entering so many houses, of all the styles and varieties you can imagine, each experience is unique and leaves us humble and grateful — without enough words to express how much it means to us. Not only because of the act, but because of the hope that it inspires in us about humanity.

It is worth mentioning that we ended up staying the night at Doña Evangelina's house. I do not share his story because it was a particular case, but on the contrary, it is a dynamic in which we find ourselves almost daily.

There are so many people like her that we have met along the way, that it would take me years to spell them here on the page. And each one has been a gesture of love and benevolence for which there is no equivalent answer, nothing that we can offer in exchange that deserves it, more than our gratitude and of course, the memory. Do not forget and know that there are those people who choose to help others.

That is why I share it. Because I have had the opportunity — but not the luck — to meet them. To enter their houses.

By receiving so many acts of selflessness and altruism, one also learns to give better. His generosity towards us is teaching us to be more generous to those who come after us. We may not have a bed or a house to correspond with right now, but each outstretched hand leaves a seed in us that, when it blooms, will always seek to return the favor.