So this is Easter? Not that it would feel anything like it, it is just another hot day at the Mayan Riviera.
Easter is a time I want to spend with my family, a time to pause and sense the promise of spring that is in the air. For me, Easter is all about spring. It is about primroses and daffodils and birch groves and cherry trees abloom. Yet there is no spring here. At the moment, we are having a cosy 90 degrees (32 celsius) and a refreshingly high humidity.
In our old life, on Good Friday I was usually delighted about some rain, then I would listen to the St. Matthew Passion and bake our traditional family Easter bread. On Saturday then, we normally went to one of the big bonfires with friends, and on Easter Sunday it was all about being together with family.
Yesterday of course, it didn’t rain. Nevertheless I switched on the Saint Matthew Passion and baked the Easter bread. So there I was in my kitchen, sweating like a pig if I may say so, and could hardly hear a single note due to the neighbours’ children horsing around the pool. It was a frustrating experience, but well, at least I will get to eat some Easter bread!
Tonight we are having dinner at my husband’s hotel, and I am tempted to set fire to the table decoration to make up for the missing bonfire. But as I am not keen on seeing a Mexican mental institution from the inside, I might refrain from that option. Tomorrow then, we will spend the day on the beach – needless to say there will be no easter egg hunt!
It is a funny thing with those bank holidays. As much as I used to like them back home, as much do I dread them here. Silly, but I always get a little nostalgic around those special dates and I feel like I am missing out on something. Do you know, what I mean, fellow expats? It is nice to watch how other countries celebrate those dates (if they do), but it doesn’t feel like it is YOURS – right?
Normally, I am not that kind of person always looking for the greener grass on the other side, nor am I someone drowning myself in nostalgia. But I can’t help it: these days I am carrying around a big birch grove in my heart while listening to the rustling palm trees and the beautiful exotic birds. And boy, does a birch grove weigh heavy!