fun times


fabian r.

There have been so many occasions where not only my main family, but all of my family meet up. My mom has 11 siblings, and they are all fairly close, not in physical distance though. There are relatives that live in New York, all the way to the middle of Mexico. So you can just imagine the time it takes to travel, if there is a special occasion, there are lots of places we could go. I would say that the trips to Mexico are the best, although they are getting pretty old, considering that I went 4 times this year. On top of that we travel by car, which is around 18 hours on the road.

There’s been so many fun times, I remember when me and my cousins would ride our 4 wheelers across this hard, concrete bridge, the bridge had a slight sheet of water running across it, but if the weather was bad, the bridge would get terrifying. Meaning that It would get slimy, getting more slippery and slippery. Or the strong waves could get to the point where they would push anything into the river if it tried to cross. I remember that we would get on the roof of the house by traveling a short distance to the farm, and jumping a fence that led right to the courtyard of the house, which is now blocked by some metal sheeting to prevent water damage or something like that. I remember climbing down a small cliff, and pretending that we were explorers. We would follow a small stream that would lead us to a small waterfall, that would have a small body of water at the end with tons of living animals. From cute to scary.

I remember all of the fun we had cliff jumping and swimming in the river, with cousins such as Alison, Ruby, Eli, and more that I can’t remember. I remember all of the trips to the small convenient store that was run by one of the people that lived there, never really learned their names. Or perhaps I did, but couldn’t remember them. As we walk by anyone in the small town they would say “Hey!”, waving their hand at me. Usually I’ll go over there and have a short conversation with them. They always start it though, by saying “You’re Olivia’s kid, right?” Everyone knows everyone over there. Nobody is ever unnoticed. Unlike Windsor. Nobody know each other here, and there is not much things going around here. Over there something interesting happens every day.

Anyway, as we walk into the shop for the first time since our arrival, the owner greets us with the same conversation that I have with everyone else, then I take the same order depending on the quantity of chips they have. I get the surprisingly cheap chips and a bottle of coke. The best coke out there. Not sure what it is but I just think that it tastes so much better over there. If we come walking, there is a bridge that extends from one town, to the other, with the river in between. The bridge swaying as someone takes a step. After crossing the bridge there are some rocky roads that consist of ups and downs, then crossing a beach like place to finally end up at my grandma’s house. We walk in to the kitchen to see what everything is up to. My grandma was usually baking something something for the family, with the help of my mom and my aunts. As the day goes on, we just do whatever just “pops” into our heads. Because over there, there is freedom. Lots of it.  You can do whatever you put your mind to.