Driving to Mexico

There’s something you get from traveling by car that you can’t get from other modes of transport. (And not just a stiff back!)

As soon as we crossed the border in Nogales, AZ, it was obvious that we were no longer in the USA. That sort of shocked me because I thought it would have been a more gradual change. Immediately you notice the shanty town that butts right up to the chain-link fence demarcation of the US. My first thought was, “How bittersweet it must be to live in poverty in the shadow of the United States.” I was so awestruck, I was ashamed to take any photos as it felt too much like exploitation. (The photo here is of a house outside of Santa Ana, I loved the way the sun was setting in the background.)

But as we drove on a few miles, I saw children running through the streets, women hanging up laundry and one house had a trampoline that was host to about six kids while their parents looked on. Yes, it’s a different way of living, and the poverty is greater than I could have imagined, but just looking at these scenes, I could see that my way of life was no better—and maybe no different than theirs.