Driving to Nogales, Arizona, to see my dentist in Nogales, Sonora, I chuckle at giant signs near the U.S.-Mexico border: No weapons or munitions allowed.
In Mexico, nearly 70 percent of the 106,000 guns recovered from 2011 to 2016 by the U.S. Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms were traced to the United States.
Stop all those dangerous criminals coming across the border to “rape and rob us?” What a “Catch-22” when most weapons in Mexico originate from our NRA playground.
I want to see the best dentist I’ve found in years, since the ’70s when Dr. Jane Witner in Hanover, New Hampshire, who had shiny lavender equipment and gave me organic fruit juice while I waited.
Dr. Sanchez is a polite young man who doesn’t mess around. He and his able assistant Lupita are so efficient yet laid-back. I don’t mind going to the dentist, after being traumatized last year by the Tucson guy who charged nearly four times as much.
Lupita gets a lavender paper bib for me. She translates for Dr. Sanchez who speaks some English. They both like my hair color, a darker purple than the bib. Lupita chats in Spanish to Dr. Sanchez.
“Uh-huh,” he usually responds.
I complain to Lupita about the trump nightmare, how he needs to be gone. She says, “First they have to catch him!”
“I love refried beans,” she tells me. “I don’t think Americans like them so much.”
“Are you kidding? I hope this doesn’t take long. I can’t wait for La Roca’s refried beans. They’re the best!”
Connecting with human beings in other parts of the world, well, makes us more human.