Day two in Big Bend got a late start, so I didn’t venture too far from the campground. That didn’t mean the day was without adventure though. A short drive from the Rio Grande RV Park is Boquillas Canyon, which looks across the Rio Grande River to the small village of Boquillas, Mexico. Set up on the ridge, a sprinkling of buildings lay across the desert, home to many families.
During non-pandemic times, the village of Boquillas shuttles tourists across the river in canoes to visit their community. Their economy depends on the tourists: the money from the river crossings, the items sold in the market, the diners at the restaurant. All of that has come to a dramatic halt since COVID hit. The people of Boquillas have been struggling to survive ever since.
Because they can’t operate their normal businesses, they have found alternative ways to make a living, although at a large risk. They come across the river anyways near the canyon, selling handmade goods, fresh tamales, and songs. The chance that they could be punished by border control or park police seems to be worth the risk. It’s take this chance, or potentially not be able to feed their families and pay their bills. The effects of COVID continue to be long lasting and far reaching.
As I walked down the short path to the river, I met many men from Mexico selling their goods. They were friendly, respectful, polite. We engaged in brief conversations, both in English and Spanish, but unfortunately I didn’t have any cash to support their business. This bothered me every time I had to say, “No tengo cash.” I desperately wanted to help. Maybe I could return another day.
There was one small way I was able to help. As I neared the Rio Grande, I met Jesus, an elderly man offering to sing songs. From the far bank, he bellowed out beautiful ballads in Spanish about love and happiness. He shared that he has been doing this for 21 years, every day coming to the river, no matter the heat, and singing for visitors. When I explained that I didn’t have any cash, he wondered if I had any granola bars. Yes, yes of course I did! So he paddled over to pick up two, asked me about Massachusetts, and then went back to his tree to find some shade and comfort. There is always a way you can support someone for their efforts. Money would have been more helpful, but food was a good second option.
Then on I went to the river, wide but shallow, bending around through the high walled canyon. I kept going until the end of the path, where the sand ended and the water continued. Prepared with my sandals, I dipped my toes in and was surprised to find the water fairly warm! I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised, it is 90 plus degrees almost every day right now. A step or two in wasn’t enough though and shortly I was wading across to the other side. The water never reached above my knees, but it still took effort to push through the current. Then all of the sudden, I was in Mexico! I stayed long enough for a picture, but then my rule following inner voice starting shouting, “You don’t have your passport!” and I quickly made my way back. But now I can say, “I’ve been to Mexico!” Kind of.
Back on U.S. soil, I chatted with a few fellow hikers and made fast friends with Ragov. We walked back together, chatting about van life and car life – he had make a makeshift home out of his Subaru! I said goodbye to Jesus as we passed his post and continued up the sandy path back to the parking lot. We then joined back up with a man selling tamales on horseback, who Ragov had promised to find on his way out. He followed us back the car, with our permission, so Ragov could get his cash. He then bought two bags, $10 each, chock full of chicken filled pockets of love. Generously, he gave one to me for lunch. The kindness of strangers is refreshing and heartwarming.
After that, I headed right to the campground store ATM so I would have cash next time I came across some Mexican market goods.
Lacking energy, and feeling the heat, I headed to the picnic spot just beyond my campground. Quiet and empty, I put together a cold lunch and sat under the shade of a billowing cottonwood to enjoy it. I followed that up with journaling in my camping chair and then finally walking down to the river one last time, through the reed lined path, to soak up the view. A relaxing and full day, I scooted back to my campsite to hunker down for the night. More adventure tomorrow.
Tonelli's Travels 