A Trip South of the Border

The north wind that plagued us at the beach brought in the cold weather that our northern neighbors had been "enjoying." Our son, Blake, had to fly home, so he missed our trip across the border. With the cooler temperatures we had to wear coats for our trip into Mexico.

Because the roads are narrow without striping, and driving laws are optional, we never take the car over the border into Mexico. Also, most American insurance companies don't cover your automobile in a foreign country.

There are parking lots on the U.S. side that charge $2 for an all day spot. We tucked the car away in the lot, and then started the trek to Mexico. We walked on the bridge over the Rio Grande River, where a border patrol vehicle was watching for any swimmers this morning.

We could see the infamous fence in the background on the U.S. side of the river.

In the middle of the bridge is the international border. When we got to the other side of the bridge, we each had to pay two quarters to enter into Mexico. There is no customs office or place to show passports as we entered into a foreign country.

The little town on the other side of the bridge is Progreso, Mexico. Mainly targeting the tourists from the USA, the streets are lined with vendors selling knock-off clothing and purses, jewelry, and hats.

These streets are also lined with dentist offices and pharmacias. There are guys on the street, handing out cards and inviting Americans in for discounted services. This was the first time for us to see this inflatable pharmacist on the street, advertising for one store. Denisa's Mother jumped when she discovered that there was a real person inside that inflatable suit.

While bartering is the norm with the vendors on the street, the merchandise in the stores is tagged and non-negotiable. Not surprising, the prices are in U.S. dollars instead of pesos. That's because this merchandise is not usually purchased by Mexican citizens.

One of the stores had a display of children's accordions, with three out of their boxes for people to try. When the three of us had an impromptu accordion concert, we were photo-bombed by an unappreciative Dave with his fingers in his ears.

The main street of Progreso is geared for tourists, and they are happy to take our U.S. currency. We did find this bakery, with fresh tortillas coming down the conveyor belt to be packaged while they're still warm. We couldn't help but notice that plastic gloves weren't used in this process.

We walked several blocks down the main street, and then back to our entry point. There was just a short line at the border on this blustery day, and we made it through the easy customs process back onto American soil showing our passports. We remember many years ago when passports weren't necessary for this crossing. On the trip home, we took highway 281 that runs parallel with the Mexico border. Across the open fields we could catch glimpses of the border fence just to our south.

Many times the fields were covered with crops. This field of cabbage was ready for harvest, with the trucks and trailers parked at the end of the field.

We couldn't get a clear picture driving down the road at 65 mph, but the field was beautiful with ripe cabbages. The plants looked like giant rosettes.

Our last stop was at a Ropa Usada. We knew that was Spanish for "used clothing" and there are several of these facilities not far from the border.

Some of the clothing is delivered in bales, and stacked to the top of the two-story ceiling.

The bundles are taken apart, and people come to sort through the mounds of clothing for treasures. Since Debra teaches at an Oklahoma City school, we were looking for khaki pants that could be recycled for the students at her low-income school. Clothing is sold for 50 cents per pound, so there are definitely some bargains here. There were other women sorting through the clothing. It must be tiring work, as we saw several napping among the piles.

There was also a section for shoes that covered the floor in a single layer. We tried to find matches, but all we found were single shoes. We were thinking that there were some great bargains for one-legged customers.

We have visited this part of south Texas and Mexico many times, but this was our first stop at a ropa usada. It wasn't exactly a tourist stop, but another interesting part of this southern culture on our day south of the border.