Boquillas del Carmen, Mexico
It all sounded so inviting; crossing the river by row-boat to visit the town of Boquillas. We planned to spend much of the day there so we set out early. We were the first to cross that day, made obvious by the dozens of empty 5-gallon gas cans came across the Rio Grande River with the boat. Those cans get filled in America, then sent back to the town of Boquillas for their every day use, at a fraction of the cost of gasoline in Mexico. Nevertheless, we gladly jumped in the small aluminum craft (we are accustomed to small aluminum crafts) and were quickly whisked away to a new land where donkeys are the taxi of choice.
I must admit that I may have fallen in a tad-bit in love with donkeys. Our two little guys (named “coffee and I don’t know, maybe blanca” said our guide, Eduardo) did not live up to the stereotype of being hard-headed and stubborn at all. In fact they were quite respectful and much smarter than I took them for. It was clear that they knew this path well, yet both were very thoughtful of each step they took. A gentle trot to get up that incline, and a slow crawl down the other side. They were experienced taxis for sure.
The problem we found, once at the town, was that it consists of a few dozen buildings. Mostly run down residences, only three other buildings are for tourist use. The first is the immigration office where we were welcomed with the clu-chunk of a stamp to our passports. The other two buildings are both restaurants. That is it… nothing else to do or see in town.
What that means is, people… no, let me get this out properly… lazy, fat, Americans pay for a donkey ride (walking is too hard for us) to see how ‘those 3rd world people live’. Visiting Los Algadones has a purpose (dental/medical). Visiting Baja has a purpose (beach tourism). But Boquillas had only one purpose in our eyes; to insult these great people. Once we realized this, we were both sickened by it. We were one of those “Americans”, right here, right now, and it felt real shitty.
Even though we had just eaten breakfast, we felt obligated to get a meal here. Their entire lives are focused on our fat, lazy, butts showing up and spending our American dollars at one of the two restaurants in town. There was no better way – we could think of – to have said “we are sorry” then to spend some money. Following a fantastic meal, and two cups of coffee, and tips all around, we left knowing we would not make such a visit again.
That’s too bad about your visit. When we were there, we had a “guide” (the ferry man’s son — maybe 10 or 12 years old). He gave us a wonderful tour of the town, including the clinic and school and the springs where people bathe. He told us about the army base near by and how things had changed over the past decade or so and how people lived. We found it a wonderful experience, if a bit bleak!
Ah, we opted out of the guided tour, although we did still tip the guys (twice).
In the post-9/11 panic, the US closed down their side of the crossing, causing financial hardship in Boquillas del Carmen. Yeah, we can be fat, lazy, third-world-gawking Americans, but dollars are dollars. They gotta do whatever they can to make them.
Sadly, I kinda felt sleezy doing the exact same donkey ride and taco lunch as you back in the 1990s. But I tell you what: After 9/11, when that crossing was completely closed, it was worse. You’d walk by the trails along the river, and there’d be some souvenirs from Boquillas next to a tree, with a can for payment left by. Across the river, you might see some residents watching slyly from the bushes. They were so desperate for trade, they swam the river illegally and left their goods.
Vanholio, these “honor system cans,” little more than a Pringles can, still exist today on many of the hiking trails along the border. While I felt a bit sleazy too at first, after the sad tale of how the town almost folded altogether after 9/11, I was glad I had come. Next, I got a big dose of national pride as they explained how they had overcome the odds, and prepared my lunch and kept my beer cold in a restaurant that had no electricity. Smiles all around as we left with the promise to please come back, and bring your friends…because their lives depend on it.
Yea the cans (and trinkets) where there in our visit as well. Took a few minutes to get what was happening, but eventually got there.
Thanks everyone, after reading some comments I do not feel as douchey about the whole thing.