Lindsay Hastings

Autumn Payne
Home Again ( Travel Memoir)
RHET 1311

A light brown van bearing five gringos cruised steadily along the highway. It
stopped at the U.S./ Mexico border, lingered perhaps twenty minutes, and drove on into
Mexico. My brothers and I sat in the backseat, hearts pounding. The sight before us
made nostalgia cover me like a blanket. How could I have forgotten? I looked out of the
van windows to see majestic mountains and brown desert stretching as far as the eye
could see. HOME.
My brothers and I were born in Mexico and lived there until we were ages 9, 10
and 11. Our parents were missionaries in Mexico for 15 years. Though our parents are
American and English is our first language, we never imagined that we were anything but
Mexican at that time. All three of us have Mexican citizenship, and we never dreamed we
would live anywhere else. Mexico was home. But when I was almost nine years old, my
parents told my brothers and me, that we were going to the U.S. for a one-year furlough. I
was disgusted. The U.S.? For a whole year? All my friends were in Mexico; how could
we leave for so long?
We moved to Arkansas in July of 2006. The year went by very slowly, but we did
not return home at the end of it. I constantly asked my parents when we would be going
home, and always received an exasperating I dont know, About three or four months
into the second year, I began to doubt if we would really return. After almost two years

my parents told us what we had feared for months. We were never going home. The
actual moment that my parents told me and my brothers was not a dramatic scene.
Though I had suspected for many months that we would not return home, I suppose I
never really believed it. It took years for the truth to really sink in. Even after my parents
told me their decision, I held tightly to the hope of returning home.
In 2008 my family and I took our last trip home to retrieve the things we had left
behind. My heart longed to go home for two years and I was already dreading the day
when we would leave home again. We hooked a tiny empty U-Haul truck to the back of
our van and begun our last journey home. I couldnt believe it. Our trip had been delayed
many times due to scheduling conflicts and car trouble. My heart was bitter at the days
we missed because of technical difficulties, but none of that mattered now.
The first day of travel was fairly unexciting. We drove steadily throughout the day
with the occasional bathroom/shopping break. But the second day our surroundings
began to change and it was clear that the culture around us was steadily changing. The
green grass and forests of Arkansas turned to vast desert and mountain ranges of Texas
and Mexico. I began to feel a sort of peace and calmness in my heart. The familiar sight
of the mountains and desert brought a sense of security. I never realized how beautiful the
deserts of Mexico are until I was separated from them.
We arrived at our destination in Chihuahua, at around 11:00 pm. We stayed at a
guest house at the ranch where my family and I had lived for two years. The familiar
sights leading to the ranch made my heart swell. So many beautiful things I had never
appreciated! The familiar feel of the bumpy road, a giant green statue I used to pass on
the way to school, and the familiar gate leading into the ranch. When I stepped out of the

van I was greeted by the sight of our old neighbors dog and a friend of mine from my
old school. He came out in the middle of the night to greet us. I wanted to run over the
whole ranch and see all of my favorite places, but it was too late. We unloaded the bare
necessities for the night and slept.
Our first day was wonderful. My brother Tyler and I dressed in our geeky gringo
clothes and sunscreen and headed out to find our favorite places where we used to play.
Sadly, most of our old tromping grounds had lost the impact we had on them and returned
to their original natural appearance. Only one of our favorite places was unchanged. Our
father had made a tree house for us when I was in second grade. My friends and I used to
go there every day and pretend we were travelers in the wilderness foraging for food.
When we climbed the tree, all of our old things were still there. A cooler with some
drawings and an old book from our school library we had forgotten to return.
Though all these experiences were beautiful and a blessing, they were very shortlived. Our greatest hope for going home was to see our friends and for everything to be
like it was before. But unfortunately since we were staying at a ranch, we were at a
distance from most of our old friends. Despite the thrill of being home, spending every
day on the ranch without being able to see our friends began to wear on us. Luckily a few
of our old friends came to visit us, but most of those people were adults who came to see
my parents. Over the course of the trip I saw all of my friends but was only able to spend
quality time with two of them. The majority of the time we were at home, was spent
going through possessions we had left behind, and deciding what to keep, and what to
give away. Our U-Haul was so small that we could only fit around twenty-five percent of
the possessions we had left in Mexico. The rest was collected by our friends and

neighbors.
We were only able to spend one week in Mexico. During that week we managed to
pack our U-Haul to its utmost capacity, spend one day in my hometown, visit my old
school, and spend the night with one of my best friends. Though we had some memorable
and beautiful experiences for our last trip back, it ended miserably and none of us felt
satisfied by our return. By the end of the week we had only done about fifteen percent of
the things wed hoped to do.
It almost seemed that fate was doing its best to make sure our last trip was a
disappointment. Throughout the week each member of my family, one by one, caught a
stomach virus. And to top it all off, and the very last night of our stay, I chipped one of
my front teeth playing a game.
I vividly remember the last night before we returned to the USA. I took my old
indigo colored bike and went out to a basketball court on the ranch. Everywhere it was
dark and being far from the city the stars shone bright in the sky. I looked up into the sky
and begged God not to make us go back to the U.S. pleading that I had no friends there,
and that Mexico was my true home. I have never been so lonely as I was during those
two years spent in the U.S. I rode my bike around and around the tiny cement basketball
court crying out to God from my heart to change my future. In my mind I was panicking
and couldnt not wrap my mind around my impending fate, but in my heart there was a
strange peace that my mind could not understand. So I continued praying and riding
around and around
The next day my family and I exhausted and nauseous from the stomach virus,
wobbled into the light brown van and, and headed into the unknown future of life in

American culture. Strangely enough most of us

were not filled with sorrow for leaving because we
terribly sick, and just wanted it all to be over.
When we returned to the U.S. I continued to hope
and pray for years that God would take us back to
Mexico. I think it took me around four years to
understand that our time in Mexico was over,
and it was time to embrace Gods plan for me in
the U.S.

were all