It's Only Money -- Puebla, Mexico

I'm starting this post from the 20th seat of the ADO bus (confusingly operated by OCC), and am already burning with heat and red-faced from the stress of finding the right bus. This sounds absolutely silly (and mostly is), but keep in mind that I'm finding the right bus in a country where buses are always late, no one knows the exact gate from which they'll depart, I don't speak the language (hardly anyone else speaks mine) and I don't know the destination sign the bus will shine on its neon sign.

This. This is why I should have worked harder on my Spanish before arriving. It's also why I should have Jonas' number written down and not just accessible via Facebook. Good god, you're getting lazy, girl. 

My bus was due to leave its gate at 19:35. Jonas and Estelle dropped me off at the ADO waiting room.

"Thanks so much for being here," Jonas hugged me goodbye.

"My goodness, thanks so much for having me. This was such a blessing. Good luck on your roadtrip!"

"Email me when you arrive in Puerto Escondido?"

"Of course."

And since only those with tickets were allowed into the waiting room, I continued on without my German friend.

I was sad to leave him behind.

But a very large part of me is quite certain that our paths will cross again. One day. It'll be exciting to discover when and where.

The last couple of days have been an emotional roller coaster for me. Jonas and I had a perfect time in Mexico City -- the weather was perfect, our host was perfect, our timing was perfect.

The only thing that wasn't perfect was that neither of us had packed quite enough socks. Which is always a problem.

We walked into Jonas' home around six pm on Saturday evening. I spent the night researching Frida Kahlo and Mexico City, catching up on emails and Skyping friends.

I spent all of Sunday morning/afternoon writing blogs on Frida Kahlo and Mexico City, catching up on emails and Skyping friends.

After I'd posted my final blog for the day, I went upstairs to put my things together. I've been feeling contemplative and uncertain for the last week or so, and repacking my bag is something that always helps me settle. Repacking my bag provides me with a sense of peace (however artificial).

I have everything I need. Right here. My passport, my external hard drives, my iPhone, my money.... wait. That wad of cash looks awfully small. 

I counted the diminutive stack of bills.

What? There's only two hundred here. I could have sworn I left for Mexico City with five hundred here. In fact, I DO swear I left for Mexico City with five hundred here. Could I have put three hundred dollars somewhere else? Why would I have done that? It doesn't make any sense. I already split my money between the two coin purses I have. I don't... I don't have another place it could be. Would be. 

"Is everything okay?" Jonas asked from his desk in the corner of the room.

"... no, actually," I murmured quietly. "I'm missing three hundred dollars."

"Oh no... is there any other place you could have put it? Before we left for Mexico City?"

"I don't think so. But I'm checking."

Jonas moved to his bed and removed one of the drawers from under the mattress.

"They took my money too. Seven hundred pesos."

"Oh..." I tried to keep my swelling emotions from overwhelming me. And failed. "Oh... that was... that was more than half of what I had."

"I'm so sorry, Aimee..." Jonas quickly moved to put his arm around me.

"It's just... it's only money," I sobbed. Doing a terrible job of convincing Jonas (and myself) that it was "only" money. "I just don't have any money in the bank. That was it. That was all I had for the future. Indefinitely. At least they left me two hundred," I collapsed deeper into my puddle of tears. "But two hundred isn't even enough to pay for a plane ticket home, should I need it. Oh man... I'd wanted to learn how to travel without money, but I wasn't ready for it. Not like this. Not in a way that strips it from me. Oof. I'm so far away from what's "safe". And with so little... I feel so vulnerable and afraid."

"I can't believe that this happened here. I never would have thought," Jonas stayed close beside me as I continued to be an emotional disaster all over his bedroom.

"It's just horrible to think about how that money came to me versus how it was taken away. One boy who only works twenty hours a week gave me two hundred because he loves me and supports what I do. One woman I hardly ever see at all gave me another hundred. Because she wanted me to feel loved. I know that this doesn't take away those beautiful gifts... I still feel loved... but it just... ah. I hate that what they gave me was taken."

"I can give you 3000 pesos. That should be about 200 dollars," Jonas rubbed my shoulder. "It'll be okay."

I looked up through my tears.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Thank-you. Oh my goodness, thank-you. I hope I'll be able to do something as wonderful for you some day."

"If you don't, I'm sure someone will."

I pretty much threw myself into Jonas' arms.

"It'll be okay."

"Yes," I sniffled. "'Cos people like you are out there."

We went through the rest of our things and were pleased (and confused) to find that even though the thief had had access to our laptops, our credit cards and my video camera (and my passport), he or she had taken nothing but our money.

"Jonas?"

"Yes?"

"Can we go get potato chips and then watch a tv show?"

"That sounds awesome."

"Okay."

I'd interviewed Jonas earlier that day. The answer to, "what is your favorite guilty pleasure?" was, "eating a bag of potato chips while watching a TV series... but I'm not really guilty about it."

Jonas tried to withdraw the 3000 pesos from the OXXO's ATM, but expecting just any old ATM to have the equivalent of 200 dollars is about as nonsensical as expecting the tamale vendor to have change for 200 pesos.

"At least they didn't take your most prized possession," Jonas said as he pocketed his card.

During the interview, I'd told Jonas that my most prized possession was my passport.

"Nope. I still have my passport."

"We'll try to get the money tomorrow. At ATMs in the center."

"Okay."

Then we went inside the OXXO and bought beer, tequila, potato chips and chocolate.

"I feel like we're having a bro night," I joked as I plopped my bag of chili con queso chips on the counter. "And it's hilarious that we're going to watch an episode of Downton Abbey for our bro night."

We drank, munched, crunched and criticized Mary for being stupid. And Bates for being honorable. And Maggie Smith for being too awesome always.

No one should be allowed to be that awesome always. 

I stumbled down the stairs to Skype my parents at ten o'clock. I told them about the theft and cried. Again.

So many tears. Over MONEY. But I think what really breaks my heart is that the gifts of such beautiful people were stolen. I kind of feel like I let them all down. It's a stupid, illogical way to feel. But I think that's where this outrageous flood is originating. 

That... and it's a feeling of violation. Someone picked through my things. Saw the little mementos I keep. I live a pretty naked life, but I do like to CHOOSE to be naked. I also feel cheated. Like, the reason I didn't take any of this important stuff to Mexico City with me was that I didn't want to risk it getting stolen. I left it in Jonas' Puebla apartment 'cos I was being smart. 

Nope. 

I think of money as hours. I think of that three hundred dollars, given to me so freely and lovingly, as someone giving me hours of their life. It hurts to think that someone else snuck into a safe space during my absence and nabbed those hours.

As long as you still feel loved and supported, those hours weren't wasted. Not even a little. The only way to waste those hours is to give in to feeling powerless and alone. 'Cos you're not. You have so many people who want you to keep moving, writing, adventuring and living a life brimming with vibrant colors and sounds and... 

And also... you're not powerless. Don't let yourself feel powerless. Even if there was absolutely nothing left in your wallet. Even if your laptop and passport had been stolen. You need to allow yourself to acknowledge your power just like you allow yourself to explore your vulnerability. Even with nothing, you'd figure something out. 

Jonas took me to the city center yesterday afternoon. For the last time. We spent a couple of hours visiting various ATMs (finding an ATM with 3000 pesos living inside proved to be quite the adventure), drinking cappuccinos and wandering through markets.

Mexicans drink classy coke.

And make a habit of eating grasshoppers. 

"Jonas... I want you to know that you've taken a situation that could have been really scary and turned it into something that gives me such hope. And confidence. I can't thank you enough for turning it around."

We shared a final dinner together and then made our way to the bus stop.

And now I'm here. Click-clacking away on my green keyboard as the hours ever so slowly drag along, my ass ever so quickly becomes more sore and the Spanish speaking Vince Vaughn becomes ever so infinitely more annoying.

But there's a moon out the window. It's a crescent moon that's gone and fallen over on its side. The stars are shining. The silhouettes of mountains rise and fall against the night sky.

And tomorrow I'll be in Puerto Escondido.

My new home.

Emotions are high. Besides the unbearable pain in my backside, I'm feeling immense gratitude, tiredness, trepidation and excitement.

I'll let you figure out where all those guys are coming from.