Summer Memories: Visiting Grandparents in Rural Mexico

In the summer of 2005, my mother and I took a 2-week trip to Mexico to visit my grandparents. I was about 8 years old. My grandparents own a big ranch located in the middle of an enormous hill. We crossed many dwindling, bumpy, and steep roads to get to the medium-sized mud house they live in. This area in the middle of Mexico wasn’t a very modernized area. There were no new cars, no computers, no satellite television, and nothing entertaining. I wasn’t too excited about sleeping in a mud house with almost no TV reception. But, their mud house did have an amazing view. Every morning on that trip, I woke up, sprinted to the edge of the dirt road, and looked at an incredible view. I could see an infinite number of hills and cliffs peeking out

Every morning, after eating breakfast, I would climb up this hill to get to my uncle’s house. It was a challenge to climb it. The hill was filled with monstrous prickly-bodied cacti. These cacti were three times bigger and wider than me. I remember seeing these cacti as malicious giants trying to catch me. I would sprint up this hill, making my way around every giant cacti, making sure none would actually “catch” me because everywhere I turned there was a giant struggling to grab at me. Eventually, when I made my way up to the top, it was a huge success to look down at the hill and see the defeated cacti giants. My trips to Mexico were enjoyable because although there was almost nothing to do, I had a huge imagination, making things more exciting than what they actually

I squirmed, I screamed, I squiggled trying to fight my way up to earth but it seemed like I was going nowhere but down. My stomach was now under the earth. The earth was slowly eating me inch by inch, second by second. Nobody was helping me and I sure was not enjoying this. I remembered the show I saw the night before. The man had survived quick sand by not frantically moving. I could not help but move. Moving was the only way I could fight the hungry earth. My feet kicked the earth underneath and my hands slapped the earth above. Eventually, my energy dwindled down and I just stopped. I had stopped moving yet the earth was still absorbing me. I began to cry. This was how I was going to spend my last minutes: in quick sand, getting eaten by earth.
Finally, after what seemed like hours of slowly sinking into a death hole, I felt my mom pulling me up by my arm. I was above earth. I had defeated the deadly earth. But I stood there confused, looking down at the ground, and back to my grandfather and mother. I wiped my tears. They were laughing at me. I looked down at my clothes and they were ruined. I looked even closer and saw that on my clothes was mud. I realized the “death hole” wasn 't in fact quick sand but it was just a not-so big mud puddle. I had slipped and fallen into a puddle of