coming home

Thomas Wolfe was wrong. You can go home again.


At least, depending on how flexible you are with your definition of "home."


I had three specific missions in heading north last month: 1) to get my replacement Oregon driver's license and government identification card; 2) to assist in the opening of the Salvation Army's Ray and Joan Kroc Corps Community Center in Salem; and 3) to buy items I cannot find in Mexico.


Two weeks ago, I was reluctant to leave my home in Melaque. When my visit was over, I did not want to leave my home in Salem. I started to wonder if I belong in either place.


My narrow missions were easily accomplished.


On m first full day in Oregon, I quickly had both my Oregon driver's license and my identification card in hand. Polite, helpful clerks. Flexibility in accepting documents. Full explanations of what would happen next. I was pleasantly surprised.


On the full weekend I was there, I attended several lunches, dinners, and ceremonies for the opening of the Kroc Center. Having worked on the project for five years, it looked exactly as I expected it to. The test will be whether the facility will meet its goal of allowing disadvantaged children to exercise their dreams and live up to their own potential. If I lived in Salem, I suspect I would be spending a lot of my volunteer time at the center.


And then there was buying. My first real shopping trip was to Costco. Hardly an exotic shopping experience. I had to control myself there and at Fry's and Nordstrom's. If I had not, my luggage charges would have been incredible - even in First Class. It is funny that finding Off towelettes could be a cause for celebration.


Some bloggers have commented that they felt everything was buzzing and rushing around them during visits to The States. I didn't feel any of that.


Shopping was leisurely. Driving was easy. Everywhere I went where I was known, people stopped what they were doing and took time to talk with me.


But the thing I enjoyed most was the long dinner conversations and the longer early morning conversations (sometimes until 3 or 4; something I have not done since college). As a result, I ended up seeing only about 10 percent of the people I wanted to see.


And that is what made me reluctant to leave.


I have no physical ties to Salem or Oregon. And I certainly have no emotional ties to any houses or towns. They are simply material things -- with no substantial difference from their Mexican counterparts.


What I do miss are the people -- my relatives, my friends, my acquaintances. They are a ready-made audience. If I could pick up about 40 or 50 (I might even settle for 5) of them and transport them to Mexico, I suspect I could say that Mexico will be my permanent home.


But that is not going to happen. And that is the rub. At some point, I either follow Jennifer Rose's advice to settle in an area and build a new network -- or I return to Oregon and drop all this talk about adventure.


I do know one thing, though. I cannot make any decision until I have had an opportunity to discover the adventure that is Mexico. Jiggs has given me a great gift of Independence that I cannot squander.


Starting tomorrow I intend get out to see areas of Manzanillo and La Manzanilla that I have not yet seen. Places I want to see with new eyes.


You can go home again. But home is the place where you exercise your dream.