Erin was the host at the last Airbnb I stayed at during my trip to Mérida. At the time, I’ve been away from home for almost three weeks, and haven’t seen my cat Henry for four. Though I got occasional update from Beverly, who was helping foster Henry at her house, I missed my cat dearly. I miss our nightly routine of me watching a couple of YouTube videos in bed with Henry purring on my chest; I miss the early mornings when Henry would jump onto bed and curl up against my nose; I even miss his incessant wrangling of not getting enough food.
There I was, looking for the next Airbnb for my final two days in Mérida. Before I decided on Erin’s place, I deliberated between a few listings:
Hmm, Erin’s place is slightly more expensive and further from the city center … but her place has four cats.
Hmm, this one includes breakfast … but Erin’s place has four cats.
Hmm, this one is right next to the ADO bus terminal … but Erin’s place has four cats.
So I went for Erin’s place.
Nestled in a quiet residential street painted in bold red, Erin’s house exudes colonial charm with its warm interior undertone, colorful textiles and high ceilings.
We cooked dinner together that evening: lentil soup with carrots in bone broth. While I was dicing carrots, we talked about her cats. Erin was mad at the neighboring cat who got her mom cat pregnant when she was less than a year old. She gave birth to a litter of three, each unique in coats as well as in personality, none look like their mother. Now the three young cats and their mother bring so much joy and goofiness to Erin’s house.
We ended up talking far more about our shared love for furry felines. We traded stories about our own upbringings, hers in California, mine in China, how she met her husband while working as a chef in California, and eventually gave up the American paycheck and moved back to his native town almost ten years ago. They bought and refurbished a colonial era casa and had two kids. Erin is now a freelancing artist making paintings, collages and more on commissions as well as on her own.
During dinner, her largest cat called Zozo jumped on to the table, tabby and orange, he was obviously looking for a handout.
“This one is a compulsive eater, he never leaves the house.” Erin said, throwing him a piece of bone.
“I love them now, but I didn’t want to get cats for a long time.” She continued.
“Really? Why not?”, I asked in surprise.
“Because you know, I want to make this place accessible for everyone. I want people to feel welcome and I was worried people who are allergic to cats wouldn’t be able to stay. I finally had them during Covid. And now I’m attracting all the cat lovers, which is great! The people who are allergic just went somewhere else, and that’s okay” She explained.
It suddenly reminded me of what Derek Sivers said about finding one’s crowd: The world is so big with so many people, we cannot and do not have to be everything to everyone. Tailoring our existence to a niche group is often more than enough. We end up happier, more content and fulfilled.
July 30, 2024
Seattle, WA