The big enchilada today was crossing the U.S. border, and it was sweet. It's impossible to say so as a rule of course, but the U.S. border dudes at Sarnia's Bluewater Bridge are both professional and polite. Detail oriented, yes. Rude and threatening? Not today.
Confused was more like it. I pulled up and turned off the truck. Right away he asked, almost mischievously, "What's in the trailer?" We talked about that and Mexico for a while before he even asked for passports.
It threw me off when he asked, "Why Mexico?" The way he said it was like, why Mexico as opposed to some other country? I was disarmed. I could have said, well why not, no winter, no snow, cheaper to live, have friends there, but no. All I could think of was "I fell in love with the country when I lived there before." That's when he said, I just have to check a few things, and slid closed the door.
We weren't terribly worried, because I knew he was checking us out and seeing all the notes about what happened to us in April. When he finally slid open the door he had a supervisor standing behind him. The seated officer asked, "So when did you live in Mexico?" I thought this was funny because I didn't think they would actually be worried about that. I said when I was 19 or 20. He asked, "What were you doing there?" Going to school in Cuernavaca. I wanted to share with him the courses I took but thought better of it. "And where did you grow up?" In Toronto said I.
This seemed to satisfy him. Seemingly still puzzled though, he asked again, "Why Mexico." I finally said, "We have friends there" His supervisor asked the perfunctory guns and fresh produce questions, and then they both smiled and said, "Have a save trip."
It was effing awesome.
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