Mañanaland, by Pam Muñoz Ryan

Mañanaland, by Pam Muñoz Ryan, was my last book purchased in person, when I went to my local indie just as things were heating up, so I could cross "support independent bookstore" off my list of disaster preparedness. That was, of course, a while ago, but self-isolation hasn't actually been good for my reading--working at home seems to take more time than working at work does, and being surrounded by all the tasks of home and garden is not useful for reading purposes either.  But I read it in a single sitting this morning, and enjoyed it very much, and am glad I bought it!

It's the story of Max, a boy growing up in a slightly alternate Central American town (the names aren't those of real places, but the feel of the place is very real).   He's a pretty happy kid--with friends, a father and grandfather who love him and look after him well (more protectively than he'd like, though), and a pretty secure life in his little town watched over by a crumbling old fortification where no kids are allowed to go.  His mother left home when he was a baby, for no reason anyone's every explained to Max, and this is a hole in his life, but not that great a sadness.

But now he's old enough to join the youth soccer league...and in order to do that, he needs a birth certificate.  Which poses a problem for his father...and opens up lots of questions from Max.  The questions lead him to the ruined fortification.  The stories he's grown up with tell of  the "hidden ones," refugees from a war-torn neighboring country, sheltering there, and of the guardians who help them on their way to a place sometimes called Mañanaland.  This summer, he learns that there is truth to the stories.  His mother herself was one of those who traveled on to Mañanaland, and his family are part of the network of gaurdians.  When there is no experienced guardian available to help a young girl escaping horrors for the chance of a better life, Max volunteers himself.  His grandfather's stories, truer than he knew, guide him and Isadora to the next leg of her journey.

Max has his own reasons for taking this assignment--not just caring on the family tradition, but the hope of finding his mother.  But as the danger that Isadora is in becomes clear to him, he realizes there's more at stake than his own dream. And when he learns that there is no such actual place as "Mañanaland", he makes peace with the realization that he will probably never find his mother.

From reading reviews before hand, I had the impression that this had fantasy elements in it.  But it really doesn't.  Though the places are fiction, the reality on which they are based isn't fantastical at all.  And although stories guide Max's journey, leading to a meeting with a rather mystical wise-woman, it's not actually anything that couldn't be real-world.  But despite having no actually magic, this is a lovely coming of age, quest sort of story that makes the mundane world ring with meaning.  

I've seen some people note that it's rather slow to get going, and maybe it is, but Max's town, and family, and the stories he hears are all built so beautifully in that beginning that I had no complaints.  I was moved, and enchanted, and recommend this one lots and lots as a book to open kids' minds to refugees fleeing horror all over our real world.

Personal bonus--I find that I am the sort of reader who enjoys descriptions of bridges, and their building, which is what Max's father does.  Personal note of distaste--as an archaeologist and preservation, using the old fortification as a source of bridge building materials made me wince.