I`ve been traveling on my own for almost a month now and until yesterday hadn`t met another single American woman traveler. She`s 52 and reminds me of Fran Drescher, only louder. So why is it that we (American women) don`t travel alone? If you`re not a drug dealer, Mexico is extremely safe and inviting (and if you are it`s just inviting) and I love it here. The people are very friendly and helpful, sometimes even going out of their way to give directions or recommendations. Culturally, obviously, it`s different than the US, and the men are more forward and assuming. Only once, when a fruit seller propositioned me almost immediately after I asked how much the bananas cost (“No one will know — what happens in Mexico stays in Mexico“), did I feel uncomfortable to the point of having to leave the situation. Mostly, whenever people find out that I´m traveling alone, they are always surprised. ¨Alone?¨ they say, in a mix of confusion and disbelief. ¨For how long?¨ And when I tell them, they always have the same look, this raised-eyebrows, well-how-about-that look. But that`s not just the Mexicans, it`s everybody I meet practically. The difference I notice between Mexican and North American reactions to my traveling is that Mexicans seem really concerned about my boyfriend (I wear a wedding ring and carry a family photo that includes Alan). They all want to know if he`s jealous, and one taxi driver even went so far as to ask if he hit me (I would assume to keep me in line, because when I told him if my boyfriend hit me I would leave, he called me “brava“ which means “mean“).
But all of those reactions only make me more proud that I´m traveling alone, becasue I feel like I`m showing people it can be done and it`s okay. Sometimes I get lonely and it`s definitely cheaper to travel with someone else, but I really enjoy being on my own. In general, I am pretty free to do what I want. My only constant struggle is with fear, because bad things can (and do) happen. What I deal with daily is negotiating within the space of where my fear of what could happen and something actually happening overplap. I don`t want my fear to control me and limit me so much that I miss out on the real excitement of traveling in an unknown place, but at the same time I don`t want to be hurt or robbed. So what do I do? I trust myself and make choices: Do I hike alone? No. Do I walk alone after dark if it`s a well-lit and pedestrian area? Yes.
So traveling alone as a woman does have its disadvantages and can be limiting, but it can also open doors to unexpected rooms of life. For example, if I were accompanied, I would never have had my El Fuerte post office experience. Honestly, all I expected was to pack up some gifts to send back home, but it ended up taking quite a bit of time and help, during which I was chatted up by an ex-employee who had left to work in the US but whose wife had left him so he came back home and now just hangs around his old job at the post office, assaulting gueros (light-skinned people) with broken English. To make a long story short(er), as everything was finally packed up and paid for it was siesta time and the employees invited me to the back room of the post office to eat ceviche with them. I was unable to refuse. Fresh ceviche with pico de gallo, avocado and Doritos with cold Coke to wash it down in the back of the post office? It was perfect. During the meal, all the employees (and the cook and a couple of other people who didn`t seem to work at the PO but were there for the food) presented me with a book about El Fuerte, signed by all of them and with good wishes for the remainder of my trip. As I was finishing my second helping, a mail carrier showed up who was headed toward Los Mochis, the town I was planning on taking a bus to later that afternoon. Luis, the ex-employee, offered me a ride with said mail carrier and then drove me in the mail truck to pick up my backpack. I said goodbye to my PO friends and rode the hour-and-a-half to Los Mochis, chatting the whole time (the highlight of the conversation being when he asked me if American women wore bras, because he had heard that they didn`t). He dropped me off right behind the bus to Topolobampo (I was headed for the ferry to the Baja Peninsula that night) and even though I tried to pay him he refused. The timing was perfect, and the bus to Topo left just a few minutes later, getting me to the ferry terminal in plenty of time for the overnight journey.
It`s situations like that that make the being-limited parts of traveling alone, though still sub-optimal and frustrating, a little easier to handle.
