Rootless in Coastal Mexico

By Quyen Le

We’ve traveled about two and a half months in Mexico. Before we embarked on this journey, I had plans of writing and making art more often. It’s proven more difficult for my lack of discipline and for the unsettling nature of our travels. Even though we travel slowly, opting to stay in places 2-5 days and not planning everything out, allowing for spontaneity (for things to just to happen), I still find it hard to settle in my quiet place for writing and artmaking. Sometimes, it’s just being in a new place of wonder where I zone out or feel rootless as we’re always on the move. This life on the road of constant change, of being in a land where I am a stranger to the language, people, and customs, of fear for what has been fed to me about Mexico and Mexicans, all of this causes me to be out of my element these past few months even without obvious stressors. Now, however, I feel more in the flow, less wary, and more relaxed. It is almost a cleansing of the mind to travel like this, like a thru-hike that purges me of preconceptions and anxiety.

Coastal Mexico is surprisingly (to me) full of foreigners but not many overlanders like in Baja. We’ve been to only one tiny fishing town, Puerto Vicente Guerrero, where we were the only foreign travelers present. And the Mexicans couldn’t have treated us better. Our waiter who spoke no English was so attentive, even cutting up our coconut for us to eat the flesh without having asked to. The owner allowed us to camp in their parking lot and use their bathrooms without payment. He did ask me to mention his restaurant on Instagram, which I was going to do anyway. My favorite states so far in Mexico have been deemed not safe for travel by the U.S. State Department. They aren’t necessarily my favorite because of their beauty. It’s a combination of the people and the landscape. While Nayarit and Jalisco are scenic with a coastline rivaling the western U.S., the overdeveloped tourist industry made it less appealing. Michoacan and Guerrero on the other hand had dusty, underdeveloped towns that had the nicest people. La Ticla and La Saladita were two of our favorite surf towns. 

Now, we are in Mazunte, a hippy Pueblo Magico in Oaxaca State. It has all the charms of an artsy community without the commercialization of Sayulita or San Pancho. There are a lot of tattooed expats with dreadlocks and colorful styles here. The coast of Oaxaca  is not lined with resorts and the beaches are accessible. It’s a nice combination of travelers, expats and Mexicans.

Arriving in the dark on a winding road, we turned on a small street crowded with walkers. More and more people came our way as we drove closer to the campsite. We had the same thought, “Where are we and why is it so crowded? Did we make a mistake coming here?” It was too late to turn around. It’s dark and we had to camp at least one night in this mysterious community with hippies. On a small dirt road, our campsite had one spot where Humboldt fit. We parked and decided to go to the beach. Right away the place seduced us. It was open mic in an open air restaurant. An expressive Spanish man recited poems and later on two talented travelers sang. A woman said, “Welcome.” And so, we stayed.