Remember when?

Having fun at Marina Paraiso 

No, I don’t mean the sandy streets or the quaint little stores scattered around Centro on Isla Mujeres, I am talking about your memories of being a child, growing up in Canada or perhaps the United States.

You played all weekend with your friends, cowboys and Indians (yes, it was okay to say Indians then), scrub baseball, street soccer, and all you had to do was come home when your dad whistled, or the street lights came on.

Softball, team sharing mitts (in the air)

You struggled home, dirty, tired, scraped, bruised, and worn out from laughing. As you got older, you ventured further afield, on your bicycle, exploring nearby neighbourhoods or, in our case, the next town. No helicopter-parenting here. You just knew you had to be home for dinner, or you were in big trouble. That was what it was like for me and my siblings when we were kids – a few years back – okay, many years ago.

So, where am I going with this? Here on Isla Mujeres, it is like stepping back in time. Kids are allowed to be kids. No safety helmets or tracking devices, no daily schedule of planned activities, just day-to-day adventures.

Fooling around near their families' boats

We were in the local grocery store the other day when two young sisters, about six and four, came in holding hands.  They were on an errand for their mom.  The girls made their purchase and headed home, about a block away from the store. We remember doing errands like that for our moms.

But, in the USA or Canada, the parents can be sentenced or fined under the Child Abandonment statutes for letting their little kids walk to the store alone. 

Some of our favourite local kids fishing

We think the island teenagers grow up to be more self-sufficient and responsible, being allowed more freedom to make their own decisions.  We get to see a lot of them as we live near the high school. Yes, they all have their status-symbol smart phones, but they still flirt, and giggle (the boys) and shriek (the girls). They talk, joke, and interact with each other much more than their northern counterparts. The Mexican culture seems to encourage this type of communication, and we think it’s great. At their homes, the local kids are like any other kid, perhaps a little more respectful of their parents, but if Grandma tells you to do something, you had better do it. It’s the norm for grandparents to live with the family and help out with child-rearing.

Dancing to her own beat.

My grandparents lived with us when we were kids.  It was frustrating at times, but now that I look back and remember what they taught us about manners, family history, and good judgment. It was worth the frustration.

So, if you miss the good old days of being a kid without worries, come to paradise, on Isla Mujeres. No matter what your age, you can still be a kid here.

Cheers from paradise!

Lawrie, Lynda, Thomas, and Sparky

Pretending to drive - M. Watt photo

Isla Mujeres Mystery Series

Or 

Death in the Vineyards Mysteries