Further South of the Border V: Ramon’s Ark

This is the final installment of the story of our trip to Navojoa. In the last installment, our group was leaving Los Alamos for Navojoa.

The trip back to Navojoa was interrupted by a federal police check point. I was driving (of course) and we were motioned to pull over. They looked at all of our papers. We all stood outside the truck as they called in our information. After a few unnerving moments when I wasn’t sure what was going on, we were given back our papers and were allowed to continue toward Navojoa. I learned from Carlos that the federales are always looking for drug runners traveling between Navojoa and Los Alamos, where they go to transport their drugs by light aircraft.

We entered Navojoa as the sun was setting and we decided to pool the last of our money to buy food to have one last cook-out with Juan Pablo and his family and neighbors. The food was fantastic. As we ate, I realized that this was why I had not lost much weight since arriving in Mexico. I can't say enough about how great the food is here. For a future post, I am working on a tour of my favorite restaurants here. Here is Carlos prepping the food:

While we ate, I was talked into singing the opening lines from a popular Mexican song, Como Me Duele. We followed the meal with a cup of instant coffee (for which I have developed a taste) and a conversation about the new life that is available through Jesus. Miguel and Carlos gave their testimonies, living examples of the power of God to make all things new. Two people expressed interest in life with Jesus Christ but were not ready to commit themselves. We prayed together and said our good-byes. Pollo, Juan Pablo’s brother, adamantly stated to me “Mi casa es su casa” (My house is your house). It is good to know that I have a place to lay my head when I visit Navojoa next time.

It was 11:30 p.m. as we packed the truck and prepared to hit the road. I was very awake (thanks to the powerfully strong instant coffee) and I was the first to drive. As I watched the back of the Isuzu being packed, I was relieved that I saw no animals. I told to Carlos that we had dodged a bullet. He then told me that the medium-sized box in the back was full of chicks and baby turkeys. I discarded my nightmare fantasy of our becoming a traveling petting zoo. This seemed manageable.

During the drive north, we were stopped at two other checkpoints, both manned by the Mexican Army. Both times they searched the Isuzu, inside and out. Miguel said this was normal when travelling the highways of Mexico because the Army is looking for people transporting drugs. As the soldiers searched the vehicle in the cold morning air, I was thankful that in the U.S. our Constitution forbids the use of the Army to police citizens (not yet anyway). During almost the entire trip, I heard nothing from the animal box behind my head. However, as the sun rose, the box started chirping and gobbling and there was the sound of flapping feathers inside. I watched the lid of the box move up and down. I instantly had a vision of the car running off the road as we tried to corral the birds, feathers in our mouths and our eyes scratched out. I piled our bags on top of the box and the problem was solved. The remainder of the journey was uneventful. As we turned into the Colosio, the clock read 7:00 a.m. With a "sale pues", I crawled into bed, thankful for the experience, the safe journey and the gift of sleep. ¡Viva México!