I just got back from a trip to Texas. It didn’t go quite as planned, at least not at first: my sister and her husband got sick right before we were to leave.
As disappointed as we were, we luckily had enough friends in enough strategic places to make it work. The first couple of nights, we stayed with a couple of friends who’d just moved to Houston, where we always fly in. Walking around their cool apartment complex, my daughter quickly said, “Can we move here?”
I understand. The beauty and the tidiness of the place — where most things work like they’re supposed to, by the way — is seductive. It’s the reason many foreigners downright fall in love with the U.S. It’s also the reason plenty of people here in Mexico have looked at me like I’m an idiot when I tell them I’m from the U.S. and living here. “Why on earth would you decide to live in Mexico?”
Again, I get it. At first sight, it seems there could be nothing lovelier than that specific type of U.S. orderly urban neighborhood. Our friends’ new apartment complex was especially lovely: the magnolia trees were artfully planted to grow in front of apartment windows for privacy. Three well-maintained swimming pools. Manicured lawns, wide streets with clearly painted lanes and arrows. It really is something to behold, especially in their beautifully diverse neighborhood, of which there are many in Houston, Texas. (For a great fictional look at Houston, check out the Netflix show “Mo.”) There were so many areas that felt downright utopic.
A nice place to hang out
It was as if all the bad news we’ve been hearing from the U.S. were fiction. People of all shapes, sizes, and colors were going about their business in all kinds of languages. The owner of an Indian food restaurant confidently teased and lectured us about what we should order. The news at a local burger joint played in Spanish, and people politely held doors open for each other.
Houston, of course, is an incredibly liberal and open Texas enclave. And because the city is so big, it’s easy to imagine that everywhere is exactly like it. Unfortunately, this is not so.
Still, it’s a nice place to hang out. I enjoyed my time there even though we didn’t get to go on our planned outings.
Instead, we did some shopping with our unexpected hosts. Walmart, Ross Dress for Less, Walgreens.
Every time I go to the U.S. now, I am 100% seduced by the shopping options.
This is a weakness of mine: I love to shop, and I love to eat. Each trip to the U.S. has me returning to Mexico poorer and fatter than I was when I left. The ice cream I love, the donuts I love, the Indian food and the Thai … it all gets embraced, perhaps a little too much.
Shopping differences between the US and Mexico
During my time living in Mexico (24 years now), the buying options in the U.S. have only grown. There, you can literally get anything you can imagine. Stores are gigantic, and options are overwhelming. They’re so big, in fact, that I have several older friends who despair at the thought of grocery shopping: “I can’t do that much walking in one go!”
What can you see on a shopping trip? Oh! So, so many things. Whereas here in Mexico I am loyal to exactly one brand of very soft toilet paper, there seem to be endless equally soft brands on the shelves north of the border. The individual sheet even has adorable wavy quilted borders. Need some wet food for your cat? There’s a whole 50-foot aisle of it.
And the candy! I cannot get enough of creamy minty chocolate, and they don’t sell York Peppermint Patties anywhere in Mexico that I’ve found. For a while, Costco had some minty chocolate in part of a value pack, but those are no more. Sears also has some minty chocolate at their candy counter, but it always tastes stale and I’m not sure if that’s the texture it’s supposed to have.
I also love Smarties, those kinds of chalky little rolled-up discs. At Cracker Barrel, they had a giant roll and a Smarties lollipop! I also got some cute flamingo salt and pepper shakers — I got Christmas ones last time — because I am now apparently the kind of middle-aged woman who gets excited about decorative seasonal salt and pepper shakers.
How much do I love shopping? Let me count the ways
And don’t even get me started on clothing options. JCPenney always has great coupons, and I, of course, can’t miss a trip to Target for very reasonably-priced clothes for my kid (Cat + Jack, don’t ever change). I stock up on the only kind of supplement that helps for a very specific kind of bladder pain at Walgreens, now that the company that makes it no longer ships to Mexico.
I also eat ice cream every single day — Blue Bell’s Homemade Vanilla, to be exact — which is something I do not regret at all.
But essentially, going to the U.S. sends me into a buying frenzy. It’s great for stocking up on essentials that I wait until I travel to get, and for finally eating my favorite ice cream. But I pretty much always go overboard.
By the time the trip nears its end, my pants are extra tight and my bank account extra thin.
A sadness and a relief
And then, I come home. Choices are limited but still plenty, the way shopping in the mid-90s in the U.S. used to be (remember Albertson’s? Piggly Wiggly?) The absence of a mile-long candy aisle is both a sadness and a relief, as is the fact that I don’t want to try on every item of clothing I see. To find something might require a bit of hunting. To get what I need done might require a bit of extra work or knowledge.
But that’s its own kind of adventure. And usually, it’s the kind that gets you out of the house, walking and talking to people.
Unlimited options of convenience might seem like a great way to live, but it can quickly get overwhelming, leaving you ill-equipped to face even the slightest difficulties. Mexico, to me, is a great balance: it’s got what you need, but not in an unlimited way.
Sometimes, a simpler, less streamlined life is a calmer, realer one.
Sarah DeVries is a writer and translator based in Xalapa, Veracruz. She can be reached through her website, sarahedevries.substack.com.
