when i was 13 my parents decided to drive over the border to mexico. that excursion lasted all of 3 hours. things i remember: parking on the street and being led by a local to a bazaar with stone elephants for sale. my parents pressuring me to bargain shop in spanish, growing increasingly terrified that the locals will steal their car. escaping to a supermarket and seeing myself in 60 years, an old lady nonchalantly strutting about with purple rinse in her hair. my parents' fear of mexicans reaching its apex and, as we say in texas, getting the hell out of dodge.
this snapshot from a photoessay by steve mccurry brought it all back.
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