A Love Letter from Guadalajara

If I were to write a series of letters from the places I’ve been, Mexico would feature prominently; especially my visit in February.

I would write about landing in Guadalajara to a city running at full speed and teeming with life—white taxis swerve in and out of unmarked lanes, streetside food carts display cups of sliced fruit: mangoes and watermelons ripening in the sun. Here, the weather is warmer than it had been in San Francisco, where a winter chill still clung to the air. 

I would write about how heartwarming it felt to walk out into the arrivals hall to see my brother perched by one of the airport’s tall glass windows and how my face split into a smile as I wrapped him in a hug.

I would write about our home for the first few days in town, Casa Montore. A boutique hotel with a courtyard that opened up to the sky, and greenery crawling up and down its exterior walls. I would write about the first bite of meat-filled tacos ordered from a nearby stand, generously seasoned and drizzled in a spicy salsa. About the Mexican restaurant Bruna, with its exquisite crème brûlée, chocolatey mole sauce, and smoky tequila-based cocktails served with stories of the Mazamitla forest—inspiration for the drink’s earthy elements.

I would write about the welcome drinks at Mika Bar, where we gathered to celebrate Yem and Ben in a warm prelude to the wedding day. About Yem’s youngest sibling serenading the crowd with his saxophone, notes of Billie Eilish’s “Birds of a Feather” dancing through the air, met with whoops and applause. About our teamwork days before the wedding, how we huddled to help Yem bring her thoughtful DIY souvenirs to life: paper fans spritzed with lemon essential oil, artisanal chocolates tucked into hand-wrapped gift boxes, love notes for the guests, handwritten one by one.

I would write about watching Yem—whose friendship has colored my life in the brightest of shades—walk down the aisle to the love of her life, the impossibly long train of her gown trailing behind her on the stone-covered aisle. Time felt suspended then, as if it were being captured in slow motion. Emotions welled up inside me; joy, pride, excitement, expressed as tears spilling down my face. I gave up on trying to contain my tears and watched through misty eyes as my friend rounded the fountain, a sweet smile visible beneath her veil, and made her way up the steps to meet her waiting husband.

I would write about love. About how palpable it felt as Yem and Ben exchanged heartfelt vows beneath a pale blue sky. Their gazes locked, faces soft, surrounded by a sea of loved ones.

The ceremony gave way to a night resplendent with joy, manifesting itself in laughter, carefree dancing, smiles that deepened laugh lines and sparkled eyes, and more happy tears. As the party drew to its end—though we tried to extend it with pleas to the DJ for “one more song”—fireworks sparked neon above us, drawing our gazes upward as bursts of light illuminated the sky.

*** 

Mexico has long held a special place in my heart, but now it roots itself even deeper because it will always be the place where I watched my friends make the promise of a lifetime.

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Same Footprints, Different Sands