Ubuntu

Published: August 6, 2022 / Updated: August 6, 2022 Vilma Life in Mexico

Life is beautiful because looking back you can see the path you’ve taken, from the very beginning to the exact place where you are now. It seems that sometimes we make small, insignificant steps, but they may grow into a wonderful path, and reward with lifelong relationships.

‘Yo soy porque nosotros somos’.

It was another ordinary day, a couple of months before the tragedy. I was walking outside our house with my baby, pushing her in the pram, enjoying the slightly cooler weather of approaching evening. There was a basketball court just steps away from the house. Beno used to play there, I used to watch. And there was also a tiny park with a couple of benches, where I’d sit and just be quiet for a while.

On that day I saw a bunch of moms there. Moms, because they all seemed to have their babies in tow. There seemed to be a couple of dads, too.

‘They must be about to do some yoga’, – I thought to myself.

And as I had nothing better to do, I settled down on one of the benches and watched all those moms and babies mingling around.

Then suddenly I heard music, and the moms, together with their little ones, started dancing.

‘Ok’, – I thought to myself. ‘This is something different’.

So I watched the moms dance. I even received a couple of invitations to join them. But I felt a little bit shy, not really knowing what this was all about.

However, they seemed to thoroughly enjoy themselves, and that was contagious. So when they were finished and packing up to leave, I asked if I could join them next time. The answer was a big positive ‘yes’.

This is how I met the moms from tribu Ubuntu. By accident, but I believe it was meant to be. They used to practice in a different park, but that time, when I happened to be where I was, tribu was there, ready to welcome me.

The moms became a tight knit group of friends. We had a lot of fun dancing together, getting ready for the IMAsivo of that year. Finally the steps were perfected, the clothes were ready, the baby carriers were decorated, the hair and makeup were discussed and agreed on (that was a long and heated discussion, by the way). However, just days before making the video for the contest the tragedy struck, and I had declined to participate further.

I received a huge support from the tribu. Even though afterwards I didn’t see them as often as I wanted to, and I stopped dancing, they were always there, ready to take me and my baby back.

From those days I took away beautiful relationships. My daughter now has at least two Mexican boyfriends (or brothers, as the mothers of the boys keep reminding me). With some of the moms, we cried together, we worked together, we explored together, we had sleepovers together, we laughed together.

The tribu today is miles away, but the memories are warm in my heart and the friends remain easily reachable.

Knowing that este is mi tribu, it’s not suprising, that when asked to make a presentation about myself at my new job recently, I said: ‘Some know me as a traveler, some know me as a dreamer, and some know me as part of tribu Ubuntu – a mother, dancing with her baby in her arms…’

Gone

Published: July 24, 2022 / Updated: July 24, 2022 Vilma Life in Mexico

‘I wish I had two legs like everybody else. But God must have had his plan. I am happy’.

That is the post that I had seen on Facebook. It touched me. Not only because of the person who had said it, who had no legs. But also because only recently I managed to say it myself: ‘God must have had his plan’. It took me 3 years.

I don’t want to remember the rest of that afternoon, the days to come. But some memories are extremely vivid in my mind.

  • I remember Beno’s aunt asking me if it was true that Beno was dead. Why would she ask such a crazy question, was my first thought.
  • I remember feeling fear.
  • I remember tears.
  • I remember grabbing my baby and running to the neighbors and telling them Beno was dead.
  • I remember calling my sister and telling her Beno was dead.
  • I remember calling Kristina and telling her Beno was dead.

Beno was dead.

Many things happened. So much uncertainty followed. One thing was certain, though. One minute he was here, another he was gone.

And how does one recover from something like this? How?

Talking from my personal experience, slowly. The 3 years I mentioned earlier, remember?

‘Maybe it had to be either you or him’, – somebody said.

‘Maybe it would have been all of you, or just him’, – someone tried to comfort me.

‘It happened for a reason’, – friends told me.

‘God must have had his plan’, – was sometimes the answer.

But why? What reason? What plan? Why did anybody had to die? Why would an innocent baby lose her father? How is her not seeing her daddy ever again part of some grand plan? How?

I was full of questions, and I didn’t take any answers. I know friends and family had only the best intentions, they only tried to help. But all they said bounced straight back from the wall I put around myself.

It was not fair. Not fair for my baby, who was only 6 months old, who has never done any harm to anybody in her life. And here she was, without her dad. Not fair.

After many many days I do allow myself to think: maybe, just maybe, God did have his plan.

Beno’s biggest dream was to have a baby. It was a huge desire of his. And here she was. Our lovely daughter, 6 months old. Maybe after that there was nothing left for him here. I don’t know. Nobody knows. All I know is that he’s gone.

A nightmare

Published: July 8, 2022 / Updated: July 9, 2022 Vilma Life in Mexico

I open the door of our apartment and slowly walk in. I see two people, a man and a woman, holding guns. They don’t say a word. Neither do I. I walk from the hall to the kitchen to the bathroom, seeing more people inside, feeling them follow my every step with their eyes. More men with guns. The place is a mess, and I sigh to myself as they motion me to the bedroom. I know better than to scream or try to escape. This has happened before, so I know the drill. I sit down on the floor by the bed and look from the man to the woman. They won’t hurt me. They are not here for me.

I start waiting for the door to open. This time it will be Beno coming home. And I know that as soon as he’s in, the bullets will start flying. They will not kill Beno. They want him alive. They want answers. But it will be bad. I imagine Beno hurt, his face in my hands, and I taste blood in the back of my mouth.

That’s the dream I had recently. I bit of a nightmare, wouldn’t you say?

Sadly, in reality some nightmares happen when we are wide awake. They happen when we least expect them. Scratch that. They happen when we don’t expect them.

It was an ordinary day with some unordinary details. Usually, Beno would get ready for work and leave me and our baby girl at home. That day I needed to take her to the hospital for the vaccine, so I had sent Beno early to get the number for the line. That’s how we did it on those rare occasions when our baby needed a vaccine shot at the hospital. Beno came home and I started getting ready to leave. I remember that we kissed. We always kissed before saying goodbye. Always. And then I left.

The rest of the day passed as usual. I came home from the hospital, ate, fed the baby, slept, I did all the ordinary things. But there was something… something unusual.

Our baby had turned six months the previous weekend. We were in the park close to home and I took loads of pictures of her and Beno.

He seemed distant, sometimes even sad. That whole week he was quiet, like he had a lot on his mind. Whatever it was, he didn’t say a word to me. But the sadness was right there on his face.

That night, when I asked if he was soon coming home, his reply was simple:

I had no doubts that he did, but he very rarely said something like this, if ever. And that wasn’t exactly the answer to my question, no matter how sweet it was. I soon got tired of waiting and went to sleep. I woke up a couple of times during the night, but Beno was nowhere to be found.

Next day was Saturday. I woke up seriously annoyed. He could have at least told me he was not coming home! There was no message from Beno. I tried calling, there was no answer. I tried texting, my messages did not reach him.

By Sunday morning I was extremely frustrated. Why didn’t he call me? I was sure if his phone had died he would have managed to charge it in two days. I was not worried, I just could not understand it.

And if I thought it was bad, soon it became much worse.

My riches

June 5, 2022 Vilma Life in Mexico

And there she was… To be more precise, there she was somewhere two floors above me.

‘Nothing makes you feel like a woman till you squeeze a baby out of you’, – I announced, an expert after my daughter was born.

Nothing makes you feel in as much of a loss untill your newborn is taken away from you. For the right reasons, but still, she spent her first three days in this world without her mama.

I won’t bore you with the details of childbirth. I’ll just tell you that it started quite innocently.

The night before our daughter was born Beno and I were watching stand up comedy and were laughing out loud at Kevin Hart’s performance. I love that dude. Coincidentally, he was talking about babies, and I had the funniest night in a long time.

What started with laughs, turned into my water breaking down, continued with me pacing down the hospital ward for hours and ended up with me seeing our baby for the first time.

When I was able to visit our baby girl, after three restless days, I found her in what later became her signature sleeping position: lying on her belly, booty high up towards the sky, the cutest face to the side. And I finally had that feeling of what it truly meant to be a mama, when I picked her up for the first time and held her tight to my chest.

I’d definitely do some things differently the second time around, but I’m extremely grateful to the medical professionals who took care of us.

The days that followed were all hazy. Ask any first time mama and she’ll tell you that the first months after a baby is born are all about the sleepless nights. There are exceptions. I have heard (myths?) about newborns who slept through the night. But I’d rather miss out on the sleep myself than let my baby miss out on the precious milk. However, to be completely honest with you, breastfeeding every two hours day and night was not much fun.

Beno had taken a few days off to enjoy our family and help out. I loved having both daddy and baby around. Eventually Beno left for work again, and upon his return I met him with a starved look on my face.

‘I didn’t have time to eat’, – I admitted through the tears.

‘You eat first’, – he told me, ‘then feed the baby. I don’t want to hear about something like this again’.

And he didn’t. I moved into the routine of feeding, playing, cooking, eating and waiting for Beno to come home after work. My happiest hour was the hour when our baby was peacefully asleep and I could give Beno a hug and a kiss after a long day apart.

When people ask me what’s my biggest achievement in life, it’s this – it is getting this little girl to see the light of this world, and raising her as best as I can.

The grass is greener

Published: April 9, 2022 / Updated: April 10, 2022 Vilma Life in Mexico

I often catch myself thinking:

-When I have more money, my life will be so much better.

-When I find a man, THE man, my life will be so much better.

-When I get a new job, my life will be so much better.

-When I have my own place, finally, my home, my life will be so much better.

And then I remind myself, just as often: – When I stop thinking crappy thoughts like that and concentrate on the ‘now’, then my life will truly be better.

Because I don’t want to be the rich industrialist. I want to be the fisherman.

And if the news has not reached you through the grapevine yet, I am back in Europe. Hoping my life will be better here.

I counted how many times in the past six years I had gone to Mexico. The answer is four. Then I counted how many times in the past six years I had been back to my home country. The answer is three. It’s been this or that side of the ocean for quite a while now. I’d like to say I’m back for good this time, but having done the counting and knowing my restless soul, my guess is as good as yours.

What did I leave behind? Many dear friends, big and little. I left the country that gave me so much, but at the same time took away even more. And I left these guys behind:

-London boy. Currently with a new girlfriend, THE girlfriend, hoping she’s already pregnant. And reminding me the true way to happiness, girlfriend or no girlfriend.

-The guy from Belize.

-The traveler.

Our move was smooth. It was perfect. We left the sun and the heat for the clouds and the cold. But the love of my family keeps us warm and brings smiles to our faces.

Four years ago, Beno and I did exactly the same. We packed our bags and jumped on the plane to Europe.

We believed the grass was greener on the other side.

Oh, baby!

Published: March 28, 2022 / Updated: March 28, 2022 Vilma Life in Mexico

I was at a baby shower a couple of weeks ago. It was so much fun: lots of good friends, laughter, mojitos (for some ‘virgin’, for me – definitely not) and finger lickin’ good food.

At one point, while gathering around a yummy dip and tortilla chips, and talking about the joys and hardships of being pregnant, one of the girls announced: ‘But everybody’s so nice to you when you are pregnant!’. The rest of the moms, including me, nodded their heads.

Everybody IS nice to you when you are pregnant. How do I know? First hand experience.

I remember exactly how I felt once I saw this – I couldn’t stop smiling to myself the entire day.

Beno had left for work early, and so the whole ‘peeing on the stick’ business was done in total peace and quiet. And rightly so. I had done a pregnancy test a week before, and the result was negative. However, those of you who know me, can see me reading the instructions before using the kit, and after, just to make sure I didn’t miss out on anything. And I remembered reading that if you did the test too early, the result might be a false negative, so just check again. And that’s what I did.

Time that day simply flew by. I had sent a text to Beno telling him that I could not wait to see him that night. I was so excited about the news.

In the early days, when we just met, Beno used to tell me how much he wanted to have a pikney. I guess I had always been easily swayed one way or another, depending on the partner I had been with at the time. I had changed my mind about wanting to have a child at least a dozen of times during my life. The Peruvian, for example, did not want to have a baby, and I was ok with that. Beno longed for a baby, and his desire rubbed off on me pretty well.

I climbed into bed and settled next to Beno later that night. I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t find the right words. So I laughed instead, and he laughed with me.

‘I’m pregnant’, – I finally said to him.

And no, he didn’t do the happy dance, he didn’t lift me to the ceiling. He said:

‘You are gonna be a mommy. And I’m gonna be a daddy’.

And so, it is true, that people are nice to you when you are pregnant. I loved being pregnant very much. I enjoyed, for a change, every kilo of extra weight on my body. I smiled more, I believe I glowed! I read about the development of the baby from start to finish. I took pictures of my belly to see the progress. The only annoying things were, to me, not being able to drink coffee (I had opted to go for decaf at that time) and the increasing frequency of trips to the bathroom I had to take.

Beno was extremely careful with me, like I might brake at any point. I loved it, of course.

We had things to do, plans to make, future to look forward to.

The things I want

Published: March 11, 2022 / Updated: March 13, 2022 Vilma Life in Mexico

‘I want daddy’, – says my little one almost every night before falling asleep.

‘I want him too’, I echo in the dark.

I want, in no particular order:

My dinner ready, when I get home from work.
My house cleaned, because he hasn’t found a job yet.
My laundry done, because he is good at it.

Beno spent a couple of weeks at home once he came to me. Taking it easy, learning what life in Mexico was all about. It felt like this time he was my perfect husband, taking care of me and our house (exactly what I did when we lived in Belize). Soon enough, though, he found himself working with our next door neighbor.

I want, in no particular order:

To hear about his day.
To tell him about my day.

Money from his job was not great, but it was something. However, as many things in life end just like that, so did Beno’s collaboration with the neighbor. Through some friends I managed to get him in touch with the girl in charge of a call center. His first day Beno made two sales and his bosses were impressed. The job at the call center seemed to be a good fit for him. He worked long hours, but so did I. He worked on commission, but so did I.

I want, in no particular order:

To play ‘hangman’.


To start and end the day together.


To hold his hand.


To go shopping and have plenty of fun.


To enjoy the beach together.


To discover new restaurants together.


To sleep together.


To do anything and everything together.

Our life was good. We were together and that was all that mattered.

Until the morning of March 10th, when life suddenly became a whole lot better and being together – not the only thing that mattered.

The wait

Published: February 20, 2022 / Updated: February 28, 2022 Vilma Life in Mexico

When all you hear and see is war, nothing else matters as much. All you want is for it to end, and wish it had never started in the first place. All you can do is wait, and it’s the longest wait.

During my backpacking years I often found myself wishing for one thing only – for all the mosquitos in this world to cease to exist. It was my nemesis. It was my biggest pain. Today my wish seems ridiculous. Never in my 40 years had I anticipated to live through the worldwide pandemic. Never in my life had I imagined to have to live through war. I am as physically far away from Europe as possible, but the pain and the anger is right there in my heart, as if my own country had been attacked. And waiting for the war to end is all that matters.

Five years ago, those were the longest three months.

The note that Beno had given me barely holds together today. I kept reading it every day the entire time we were apart. I was so grateful for it. Beno was not the person to write notes or to talk about his feelings, just like most men never are. But here it was, his precious words, on the piece of paper, with his heart in it, with me in Miami.

I was lucky enough to find two amazing couchsurfing hosts and have plenty of fun. I did some well needed shopping, I explored the city, I socialized, I had a blast.

I even got to spend a couple of nights with my host on a boat, steps away from the wedding venue.

The wedding was beautiful. I don’t remember much as almost the entire celebration I spent crying. I’m a sucker for love as is and ‘I do’ always makes my eyes water. But on that occasion I cried both from happiness for my best friend and from pain, as I celebrated love and my loved one could not be there by my side.

I do remember that I ended up with the best man’s phone number in my pocket. Funny how you get a guy’s number when you least care about it.

After Miami I was back in Mexico. My days were all the same again: long hours at work and lonely nights at home. Walmart became my favorite place in the entire city, as that is were I’d go before work to use free Wifi and talk to Beno. Don’t ask me, I would have had it a hundred times easier, had I bought a cellphone and used the data. Instead, I dragged my tablet to the supermarket every day. I was set in my ways!

I’d see Beno at work, in his overalls, covered in freshly cut grass, and I could almost smell it. I’d see him drink his morning coffee, and I could just about taste the bitterness of it. I’d see him, and I’d just about feel his embrace and his lips on my face.

When he finally told me he was looking for tickets to come to Mexico, I didn’t get too excited. Anybody could say that, I remembered him telling me. Showing up was different. When the actual day came and he told me what time he’d be leaving Belize, I rushed to the bus terminal to meet him. Nobody could tell me what time that bus would reach the city. I waited till I got tired of waiting, and went home.

I only believed it when I opened the door at the crack of dawn and saw him leaning in my doorway.

‘Hi, baby’.

That is all I let him say before I fell into his arms.

‘I need to pay a hundred pesos to the taxi driver’, – he continued with a smile on his face.

‘Typical Beno’, – I though to myself with even bigger smile. And just like that, it felt like we’d never been apart.

The (lack of) men in my life

October 25, 2021 Vilma Life in Mexico

I feel like in these past couple of weeks I’d gone from zero to hero and become this femme fatale.

Mind you, it didn’t last long. Just a few days later I was back to zero. No!..

Here is what happened in between the two zeros.

As you well know, I’d been mopping around for the longest time, not getting any attention whatsoever from any man alive (the Walmart delivery man still keeps coming, bless him). When suddenly I seemed to have four (FOUR!) men (REAL!) in my life:

  • London boy. Yes, that same one. I got to know him a year ago on bumble.com, when the pandemic was in full swing. And by ‘getting to know him’ I mean just that. We have never met in person… I call us (and he agrees) the modern day pen pals. He’s the one I was and still am infatuated with. I believe we are a match made in heaven and I know he is perfect for me. He, on the other hand, is on the flight to the USA to meet his new girlfriend as we speak, to get married and have babies. Still, he’s been a figure in my life for a year, which is a lot. I like talking to him and I’d call him a good friend. ‘You get on my nerves, I get on yours. That’s how it is, babe’ – being sweet and adorable is not his forte. Every time I see a missed video call from him (my phone is ALWAYS on silent), the message follows: ‘I didn’t mean to call’. It makes me smile. London boy doesn’t ‘do’ emotions. He always listens to his head. In my opinion, though, he should for once listen to his heart, come to Mexico and marry me!
  • The guy from Belize. He’s been in my life for longer than London boy, close to two years now. Thanks to the social media we started talking while I was still in Europe and he visited me once I came back to Mexico a year and a half ago. He lives about an hour away from here so it was easy to see each other. But then just like that, he disappeared. I didn’t hear or see him again. Until very recently, when he came to see me again and I laid my head on his shoulders and just breathed. It felt good to spend an afternoon with a man who’s kind, caring and damn good looking.
  • The traveler (with one l). We’d been on a date (thank you, tinder.com) a few months ago. It was very low key and that’s what liked about it. I didn’t have to worry about trying to impress him, it was like meeting an old friend. We had a great time laughing and sharing stories. And we keep in touch still, asking what each of us is up to every couple of days. He keeps travelling, so he moves from one place to another, but he’s still in Mexico. And he wants to see me again. ‘I really want to see you again. It would be nice at least to hold you in my arms’, – he says in his message.
  • The Canadian guy. Remember how I told you I stopped using all the dating apps? I did, till I started using them again. What can I say, swiping right still gives me hope that one day… And one day this guy did not hesitate and asked to meet. I did not hesitate and asked where. We met twice and although going on both dates with a toddler is a very different story (please don’t ask to elaborate), I think he enjoyed it as much as we did.

Today everything is back to usual: the delivery man is due to bring my groceries today; London boy is sitting happily on the plane; Belizean guy has disappeared again; the traveler keeps traveling; the Canadian guy went back home. It was fun while it lasted and it felt good to feel wanted.

It also felt great to be reminded that I was an interesting person and a great company, all on my own. Sometimes I am genuinely surprised that people like me or that they want to spend time with me. That they miss me and want to see me again.

When I travelled with my Peruvian, he always was the center of attention. Mostly because of the language. My Spanish may be half decent these days, but it wasn’t when I started travelling. So I always held back and let him do the talking. He was smart and charming, so he had no problems making fast friends with people we met along the way. Me? I took a back seat and took my time. However, the people I connected with are my dear friends till today.

Travelling alone did lots of good for me. I couldn’t hide behind somebody else’s back. I held my conversations and shared my experiences. People got to know the real me. Sure, being on your own with two backpacks in tow brings its own hardships. Going to the bathroom is the trickiest part, when you need to drag all the stuff with you and squeeze it all into a tiny cubicle. And, I admit, I was never a light packer.

And so, as ending up on an old American school bus crossing the Mexican – Belizean border, I was starting a new chapter, that turned out into a magical story book.

The pursuit of…

Published: October 8, 2021 / Updated: October 12, 2021 Vilma Life in Mexico

‘Are you happy?’ – she asks me.

‘Yes, because I have you’, – I say.

‘Are you happy?’ – I ask her.

‘Yes, because I have you’ – she replies.

Young children live in the permanent state of happiness.

Can you blame them? They only want what is fun, and they want it now. When they don’t get it, they cry and they stomp their feet. Not being able to go to the park because it’s raining outside is the end of the world for them. Sometimes I feel like a child, just can’t stomp my feet.

I watched ‘The Pursuit of happyness‘ a couple of weeks ago. I am pretty sure I had seen it before. How could I not, Will Smith is in it, so I must have seen it! This time the story played on my heartstrings. How much has a parent got to do to survive, to pull through. How one just doesn’t give up, because he can’t afford to, because there’s a little person who needs him. And how imagination and games make it all so much easier on our little ones. How amazingly beautiful and at the same time awfully hard it is to be a parent.

These days I work eight hours a day, five days a week. I feel constantly tired and can’t find time for anything, especially myself. Back then I worked twelve hours a day, six days a week. And during my weekly day off I managed to clean the house, do my laundry, buy groceries and enjoy the beach.

How? How was it all possible back then?

Five years doesn’t seem to be such a long time, in the scheme of things. But how everything has changed. Hell, things drastically changed in two years for me!

After I ran away from Spain, I emerged myself into a very comfortable routine in Mexico. I didn’t care about boys. That was definitely not on my mind. Mark my words, love does find you when you least expect it. Funnily enough, I tend to forget that.

I was quite happy with my twelve hour shifts, to be honest. Oh, it wasn’t easy, but the money at the end of the day was good. Besides, the job was not stressful at all. I just had to get used to the following:

-power cuts

-flooded streets

-no running water in the bathroom at work

-people being late

The hours I’d spend waiting for the store to open, sat on a bench next to it and having conversations with whoever was in a mood for it. To me 10 am meant arriving 10 min early. To Mexicans it meant showing up at about 10.30 am or so. Remember what I said about wanting things now? Plus, not having any patience? Here you have it! It was pure torture… I just wasted time and energy getting frustrated about it. Being late is part of the culture here. But even after four years I still can’t get used to it. They even have a joke about it. Invitations to attend an event are sent for an earlier time, not the real hour it starts. But those who are invited know the trick. Mexicans still show up late, as they know they were invited early.

I was saving my pesos (and dollars) and was set on leaving when the slow season started. I had a plan to visit those Central American countries that me and my Peruvian skipped: Belize, El Salvador and Costa Rica. I read the guidebooks, I marked the pages, I was getting ready.

I promised my boss I’d be back. And why wouldn’t I? Working in the silver jewelry store was a great way to make money, to practice my Spanish, improve my Russian and my French, make new friends and even meet people from back home. If not for the shortage of toilet water!..

Soon enough April came. I packed my backpack, took those guidebooks and boarded a bus going to Belize.