The year my first child was an infant we went to the beach in Oaxaca, Mexico close to Puerto Escondido. My son and I were swinging peacefully in the shade in a hammock in 75 degree weather. It was sunny and their was a slight breeze coming off of the ocean. In the background we could hear the lapping of the ocean as the waves broke on the beach. We were on the verge of sleep. A few feet away a single local man was quietly digging a shallow trench for something. I don’t know what. He was trying to respectfully mind his business when my son smiled at him. In return we were rewarded with a big, toothless smile. The mans face was dark and wrinkled from years of working under the sun. He obviously had very little, if any, European blood in him. When I started to speak to him in Spanish he asked us where we were from. Seattle I told him. I could tell that he considered anything to the north as paved with gold. He talked of how someday he wanted to go there and work. Our simple five minute conversation was an epiphany to me. Here he was digging a ditch. I bet that he was happier than 90% of most North Americans. He had his family, his goat, his dirt-floored house, and sufficient tortillas.
Last year’s carless experiment certainly did feel like a lot of deprivation. But it would not have been so if we hadn’t felt like such “odd balls.” If everyone is doing it, then there is momentum and pride. I think of the fact that each time I go to Mexico, where my husband is from, and see the joy of the people despite the living conditions, we in the USA are constantly unhappy. Why? It seems like “getting ahead” is on every ones mind. The uncomfortable state of not having or doing what the Jones’ have or do messes with our Psyche more then even I like to admit. Of course the media and advertising are the major players here. Happiness, it seems, is about perception.
