Living in the desert has its wonders, the saguaros, the gila monsters, the heat, but one thing the desert doesn’t have is surf. When Tucsonans get a hankering for salt water, they head south, south of the border, to Puerto Peñasco (Rocky Point), Mexico.

Rocky Point is the spring break capital of Southern Arizona but there is more to Rocky Point. The trick is to connect with the locals and to do that, you have to get off the beaten path, literally.

On one trip down to Rocky Point, we decided that we would drop off some used clothes and household items at the Esperanza para los Ninos Orphanage, just ten miles from Rocky Point. We had been given directions but you couldn’t miss the sign along the highway. We turned onto the dusty road, bouncing along in our old Volvo, loaded down with donations. It was a rutted road, but we weren’t concerned, until the dirt turned into sand. Before we thought to stop the car we were stuck. Fortunately, we were only about a quarter mile from the house, so my son and I got out and walked.

The Esperanza para los Ninos Orphanage is a completely volunteer-run facility that houses over thirty children and is always in need of supplies and donations. As we approached the main building, there were about a dozen children playing out in front. A caretaker and his wife came out to greet us and I explained about the car. The caretaker took off in a truck to help dig our car out. In the mean time, we went into the main building of the orphanage to meet the children.

When we visited, the main house was dimly lit but the children brightened it up. There were smiles and curious gazes everywhere I looked. They were clean and appeared well cared for. They were busy, doing their homework, playing together, reading and following us. They proudly showed us their toys and their books and they asked us to read to them. I was impressed with the circumstances yet it was obvious that the need was great.

I spoke with one of the volunteers and she told us the history of the orphanage. Many of these children had parents but their parents were too destitute to support them. So the children lived here, for anywhere from a month to years. We sat and visited for about an hour, drinking our bottled water in the shade of the porch. Even if you don’t speak Spanish, the volunteers are gracious and more than happy to communicate any way they can.

When no one appeared back from the car after half an hour, I decided to go and check on things. The men were still struggling to free the car from the sand. It was getting dark and we still had to get to Rocky Point before 7:00 PM. The men made a last ditch effort and the Volvo crawled out of the sand.

When we got back to the house, we unloaded the donations, thanked our hosts for their help and prepared to depart. The caretaker then suggested we leave by the back road, which we didn’t know existed. As we drove away from the house, the kids and volunteers waved us on a safe journey. Then we noticed that, although not paved, this road was much more stable and well-traveled. I guess the joke was on us. We hadn’t come in the main road at all, but would the story have been as good if we had?

For more information on the orphanage, go to http://www.esperanzaparalosninos.com/

Why change now?

Although this isn't my first blog, it is my first attempt at a blog for all the world to see. I decided to create this blog so that I could get some practice writing about my travels, to get experience that I might convert into a future job.

See, about 7 weeks ago, I was let go from the job that I have held for the last 8 years. It was with one of those corporate giants and I have decided that it didn't really meet my interests well enough. So at this late stage in my career, I am going to make a change. I love travel and cultures and languages, as do so many people. But I am tired of envying all those others who do what they really love. I need to find a way that I can to. It might be travel writing, it might be getting into the tourism industry, it might be starting my own business. Whatever it ends up being, I want to change direction and go for the brass ring.

Although my life might appear pretty ordinary to many, a single mom of 2 boys who works at a computer day in and out, goes to soccer games and spends her free time visiting friends and taking care of the family, it really is much more than that and I have dreams of something bigger, something more exciting and something more meaningful.

I have not just discovered this love of the world. This blog is titled "Wayfarers & Vagabonds" for a reason. I am a wayfarer and a vagabond, and I have been as long as I can remember. My first trip to a different country was when I was about 10 and my parents took me and two of my sisters to Guadalajara, Mexico. My memories of that trip are just snippets but they are vivid and moving in a way nothing else in my childhood was.

We travelled through Mexico on a slow train, eating chicken tacos as almost every meal. We had a cabin in the sleeper car and the novelty of it all made it quite an adventure. The colonial buildings and the park and plaza were so exotic for a kid from the suburbs of Southern California that I couldn't imagine anything more wonderful. But it was the people that made me know that I would always want to travel. We met a family in Guadalajara, friends of my great aunt and uncle, and they treated us with such hospitality and affection, you would think we were long lost relatives. The sound of the language grabbed me then as well and I fell in love for the first time, with a man about 17 years my senior, named Armando. As we drove away from their house, after an amazing and exotic meal and laughter and jokes, conveyed with a lot of sign language, I sat in the back seat of the rental car, looking out the back window, crying over the end of such a wonderful experience.

Fortunately for me, the international and intercultural experiences just kept on coming, thanks to my parents openness and interest in getting to know new people. One weekend, we hosted two Japanese businessmen, one of whom was named Mr. Toyota. My sister and I thought that was just the best name he could have. After that we hosted two Brazilian students, Luiz and Tony, and their guide, Leo. That weekend caused a pattering in my heart for all Brazilians and might explain why I later married one. But it wasn't until Berit came to stay with us for several weeks that I saw that it was possible for me to achieve some of the things that I wanted, to learn another language and to travel. She came to stay with us during her trip around the United States. She was from Sweden but had lived in Spain for quite a while and spoke fluent Spanish. I was about 12 at the time and I remember sitting in her room and talking to her about all her experiences. I remember being enthralled when, on a day-trip to Tijuana, Mexico, Berit bought a bag of sweets and then walked through the streets handing them out to all the children, while chattering on with them in Spanish. I wanted so badly to be able to do that. I wanted that life.

My family continued to invite people from around the world into our home and expand my love of and fascination with the world. We hosted three exchange students, two from Brazil and one from Sri Lanka, then later hosted the brother of one of the Brazilians for about six months. My younger sister and I both went abroad with AFS as exchange students, me to Germany and she to Colombia. But that was all just the beginning.....