There are one hundred fifty-five pesos in my pocket, equivalent to about twelve dollars. Just enough left after paying 385 pesos or $25 USD for my extra bag. Take your pick. One weights fifty pounds exactly and the other is thirty eight pounds. The smaller duffle is packed to the gills with soft clothing. I can barely close the zipper. I wore the same black pants and two different shirts for a week, so why did I bring all these extra clothes? It sure didn’t seem like much when I left home. Space, like time, is precious. The biggest bag is hard sided and measures thirty inches high by 23 inches wide by twelve inches deep (deeper when unzipped to expand) . When I install a sturdy woven bamboo basket inside to create a rigid barrier, it becomes a great shipping container for ceramics and alebrijes. This bag weight in at fifty-one pounds, one pound over limit. Not even a smile and a plea to let it go worked, so I removed a small bubble-wrapped package from the cache of like wrapped packages, and stuffed it into my carry on.
Now, we are all tucked away in the Continental Express jet to Houston, two hours and seventeen minutes away. Palms and blooming orange jacarandas line the runway. The sky is pure, clear blue, without a cloud, transparent to heaven. It will be another beautiful day.