It has been a very long summer. After fleeing uncertainly home in March, I have confronted incredible mouse inundations, millions of house flies invading my kitchen. There were unseasonable major snowstorms in May, June and October, multiple threatening fires, unbreathable air, deepening drought not to mention a narrow political escape. It was with trepidation that we decided to head south when the weather turned and the COVID situation worsened in my home state. Deep red Wyoming (that voted republican by a 70% margin) never did get the hang of wearing masks and are currently paying the price as are all the surrounding red states and the one blue state on our southern border. Schools are closing, hospital beds are hard to come by, the Wyoming Cowboys were forced to cancel their football game with Air Force. Normally, Wyoming has not one OB-GYN in the state. They have only 16 cardiologists, 58 anethesiologists… in the state. They are not only unprepared but are unwilling to deal with this pandemic. They have been shipping their patients out-of-state for treatment for a month. And the people still don’t wear masks. The State legislature has just now begun to debate the wisdom of wearing masks. Even if they tried to curtail the populations’ freedom to infect others, it would not be successful. Too little…too late.
Compare this to Mazatlan, and to Mexico in general. During my recent two-day journey, almost every single person I saw had a mask on, even outside. I just checked the infection rates in Mazatlan, there were only 51 new cases yesterday and that is part of a downward trend. There are ten times more people in Mazatlan than there are in the state of Wyoming and there are ten times fewer cases here today. I have come to the conclusions that for me, it is safer in Mexico.
And it’s warm. And it’s sunny. And my friends are here. Granted, we have to wave to each other across the parking lot, but I am barefoot, a balmy breeze blowing through my hair, the sun gentle on my face. The mountains are a lush green with the recent rainfall. The road from Durango to Mazatlan was pretty chopped up in spots due to slides, but crossing the mountains on a bank holiday Monday proved to be a wise choice. I’m glad I came.
Now I get to deal with mouse inundations here.