Mucho frio.

This is the first Christmas that I'll be away from my home in Chicago. 

Leaned up against a pickup truck parked in front of a roadside abbarote, I conveyed that sentiment to one of the younger Mexican dudes with whom I was chatting.

He was young - mid-20s, maybe, slightly effeminate and wrapped tightly in a blanket as he leaned up against the door-frame in front of me. I could see his too-long pajama pants bunched up around his ankles beneath the blanket. It wasn't particularly cold.

"Estas enfermo?" I asked.

"No...pero mucho frio," he replied. 

He smiled at my question. I took a sip of beer, and he slipped back inside.