Monday night, "the fam" came over to celebrate my and my Grandma's birthdays. Nothing too crazy; just some pizza and chocolate cake. As usual, my Great Aunt Evey dominated the conversation with hilarious stories of trips to the "doggy park" and her "Schatzki ring" induced burps (at least she stopped talking about the colitis). Her husband, Uncle Joe, corrected her every now and then while my Grandma Bev avoided the conversation as she paced the kitchen. Aunt Dawn threw in her jokes and her warm laugh while Uncle Rob was unusually un-cynical. And the matriarch Grams, my great grandmother, sat at the head of the table, stoic as ever.
The conversation turned to a special my Aunt Evey saw on a kidnapping in Mexico. "Are you gonna go back, Tawm (how she pronounces my name)?" she nervously asked. "You won't go to Mexico will you?" I said maybe. "Oh my heart! It's horrible there! Do you know what they did to this poor family? Kidnapped and tortured for seven months! It's too dangerous there." Uncle Joe affirmed her statement and so did Uncle Rob with a nod and a "yup."
Now, I love when my family is around - they crack me up and they are warm, genuinely loving people - but I realized on Monday that I'll always be Little Tommy and me and my low, lost-in-the-background voice will never command much attention with this group. When I tried telling them about the countless people I met who traveled through Mexico and loved it, they didn't listen. When I tried telling them that I heard Mexico is much more developed than the countries I went to, that only made them more anxious about where I had been. There was no winning.
Saying that I shouldn't go to Mexico because it's dangerous is akin to saying I shouldn't go to the Northeast of the United States. It's absurd. For instance, we all know that if you don't have to be in Camden, NJ, you probably should not go there. The same holds true in other countries, at least in the four I went to on this trip. Xela is a relatively quiet city, but you know that you do not set foot in Zona 7 day or night. Simple as that.
It's as if the television holds more weight than do my real life experiences. The incident with my family is only one example. I've had friends and friends of my parents tell me how Guatemala is falling apart according to the papers and that the gangs are taking over. Is the country in bad economic shape? Yes... so are we. Are gangs a problem? Yes, in areas. Are they taking over the country? No. But so far, it seems like what I say, instead of changing people's minds and making them think, "Hm, maybe I've got the wrong idea," has only made them think that I am foolish and crazy. Maybe I am.
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