Comitan, Mexico was a welcome stop after a long transit day on a Carretera Federal in Chiapas, Mexico. We found a small, family run motel down a cobblestone street across from a mural depicting a poem by Octavio Paz- a good omen.

An elderly couple checked us in - curious about where we were from and where we were going. Back in our Land Rover, I followed the gentleman through a locked gate and under a low entranceway to the courtyard parking lot. He was discretely curious while I was grabbing our day packs from amongst the camp gear and the diesel and water jerry cans in the back. He pointed to the flag sticker on the rear door of the Rover, smiled and remarked “Canada”.

At diner we ate like starving castaways back on dry land - cool in the air conditioned dining room. The gentleman and his wife were justifiably proud of their place - hardworking, always present. The dining room held four or five tables and was impeccably clean.

The conversation was often animated between the couple and the staff, and their gaze often in our direction - it was borderline uncomfortable. The couple approached the table, hand in hand, and the gentleman spoke directly to Michelle.

“You are from Canada.”

Michelle smiled warmly and nodded her head.

“I hope you don’t mind us asking - but are you an Eskimo.”

Michelle explained her Filipino and Thai background while Astrid looked on amused. Later that night, back in our room, I said to Michelle “You disappointed them. I guess they’ll have to take down the banner over the front door - The Hotel of Choice of Canada’s Eskimos.”

A travel lesson - we are all learning from each other - humility and humour are important on the road.