"They Brought The Sun"

by Edson Serna Tello (Mexico)

I didn't expect to find Mexico

The day I arrived in Xcalacoco, it was cloudy. We were in the middle of summer, and the rain was forecast for the next few days. I had planned this trip to get away from the hustle and bustle of my daily life. I worked at three schools and needed a break. Feeling sun-kissed was one of my favorite things about the season, but the sun had hidden all day. However, I enjoyed the calm of the sea and the exquisite food of that place. I stayed in a small hotel near the beach. During the first few days, my only interaction was with local people, who showed me the reef and the trace of Mayan constructions around the beach. Until that Friday afternoon, when I met Matthew. He approached me, smiling with a Corona beer in hand. "The typical American guy," I thought. But I was wrong. Matt was everything but ordinary. He told me he was from Seattle and that he worked as an architect. Matthew was staying at Playa del Carmen, very close to Xcalacoco. He invited me to a restaurant, and we drank. Not that much, because I can still remember everything about that day. When we realized that the talk wouldn't end soon, we decided to walk on the beach. We got up and moved away from the crowd. We slipped off our sandals. We walked for over thirty minutes. Matt was sweating, and his skin was red, even with the lack of sun. "I look like a lobster," he said, making fun of himself, instead of complaining. I was with the perfect summer partner. Afterward, Matt talked about his job — what he liked and what he didn't. And while he spoke, I immersed myself in his blue eyes and his anecdotes about rainy days and coffee shops. I told him I worked as a Spanish teacher in northern Mexico. It was inevitable not to bring up the current situation on the border. "I teach in different schools," I began. He listened carefully, more than anyone had ever done before. "There are children who lost their parents. Families who leave and don't return." I took a deep breath. "It's hard to get to the classroom, take assistance, and realize that maybe there's a child who won't come back. Nothing I can do." I turned to the ocean, and he grabbed my shoulder. "I'm sorry," he muttered. We kept silent for the next few minutes. People were leaving. I thought we were alone until we heard a group of children approach. I had seen those children before; they were local. They ran to the rocky shore. We saw them play with the white foam — innocent, free souls, far away from broken dreams and unnecessary cages. We witnessed a bright sunset for the first time that week. "They brought the sun," Matt said, pointing out the children. I smiled. I have never felt so blessed before. At that moment, side by side, our bodies were awash with sunlight.