Uncle Goyo

Many will have a distant uncle who makes himself mentioned from time to time in table conversations. Through legends or family gossip, you learn some details of his life: that he is tall, smoker, and strong-willed, or that he lives with a charming partner in another state of the country ... however, you do not know him personally. . The Popocatépetl volcano — known here as Don Goyo — was like that mysterious guy I had never met. Since my geography classes in elementary school, I had heard about him — perhaps his name was even once the answer to an exam question. I had surely seen many photos in which Uncle Goyo appeared, but I never consciously or intentionally registered his face in my memory ... until the day we met.

Arriving at the home of our friend and host Angelika in the City of Puebla, we immediately went up to the roof to watch the sunset — even before unloading our bikes. This is where you can best see Don Goyo and the beautiful Iztaccíhuatl in its full splendor. Every sunrise that I spent in that house, I woke up with a clear and direct view towards them. Until then I did not know, or no one told me, that active volcanoes sneeze regularly, spitting out a plume of grayish smoke that floats and disappears among the other clouds in the sky. While I was enjoying discovering these little details that became familiar to me with him, I also realized that I do not know much about what it means to live so close to such an outstanding and predominant presence.

Speaking with several inhabitants of the area, I learned that just as I celebrated the cancellation of classes in Vallarta due to hurricane warnings, or in Canada for its "snow days", in Puebla it is the "ash exhalations" that also interrupt outings. and work outside the home. In other words, it is Uncle Goyo's breath. I also learned that although ash is toxic to our skin and respiratory tract, it provides certain microelements that, when mixed with the earth, can serve as fertilizer for neighboring crops. Pedaling through the region, my mouth watered observing its precious diversity of crops, including all kinds of flowers, vegetables, lettuce, alfalfa, amaranth, nopales, figs, peaches, pears, etc. Its abundance of pomegranates and walnuts is what gives it the title as "La cuna de los chiles en Nogada "- the specialty of a beautiful family that hosted us in San Nicolás de los Ranchos. Unfortunately, we were ahead of the season of the famous dish, but I am satisfied with having seen the trees in their garden saturated with fruit. about to mature, and with the warm invitation of Doña Rocío to return in August if our palates so desire.

From each person I asked what they felt about living in San Nicolás, I perceived a lot of calm and lightness about the volcano, despite being the last municipality on the way to the crater. They told me that it was normal for them, that it was already part of their habit, and that they had always had to live like this. On the one hand, it seems incredible to me the human ability to adapt to any environment, and on the other hand, the fidelity that leads us to root ourselves to only one and in particular. To which we determine our home. There was a person whose curiosity got the better of me and who answered me with another question: Well, what do you feel about living on your bicycle?

It is a question that I ask myself, if not daily, then very often. In a way, I have also normalized it. I have become accustomed to certain routines that living in this way implies, to the habits and rituals, personal and as a group that we have managed to establish. Like everyone else, we adapt to this context in order to continue living it. But what does it really feel like to live it?

For me, traveling through Mexico is like meeting my distant relatives. It is finally putting a face to the people and places that I had heard so many times about; of which my imagination was flooded and my curiosity was fed. It is seeing with my own eyes, tasting with my own tongue, and feeling with all my pores open the essence of each one of them — letting me be surprised by their singularities, since they never fail to do so. It turns out that I have many more relatives than I realized, and that my family tree is much broader than I imagined. There are some of those that I have only just found out for the first time along the way, but in any case they make me feel welcome and at home, sealing the bond and making up for lost time through our re-encounter.

Investing this time, mind and energy to focus on the world is not only being very rewarding for me, but I feel it as something important for my future. I surround myself with new environments with no intention of disconnecting or escaping, but rather, of reconnecting and returning home, each of them being part of my heritage as a citizen of Earth. Not in the sense that they belong to me, but in the sense that I belong to a global natural lineage. Our treasures and family jewels are scattered everywhere, but you have to know and value them in order to want to rescue them and be able to defend them.

Standing in front of Popo and Izta (and frankly, somewhat overwhelmed by their immensity) I realized that my purpose of cultivating a dynamic of admiration and understanding with the planet is just the first step. I do not know what is coming, but the encouragement of each of the encounters in this long family trip comforts me.