Day two in Guadalajara there's a man in the neighbourhood spouting the hottest news off the press with a stack of papers to sell. It was a lovely sunny morning and birds were singing. I heard him from a distance, saying something over and over, getting louder and louder as he approached. The news is usually always bad in Mexican cities, or at least, as is so often with the press, that only bad news gets attention. In Guadalajara it is common for kidnappings to take place all over. . . not just with rich people but with anybody; they take a child away or any person and ransom him back for a couple of thousand bucks. Just the other week, it happened to a young kid and when they ransom money got paid, they found the victim dead anyway. Drug trafficking, corruption, thievery, scams, lies, and many many vices are all part of if not a very part prominent part of life in a large Mexican city. So it was to my horror that the words I was hearing from the newsman in the street about how they cut someone's head off although it was breaking news, it was not from Mexico. No, It happened in Canada, in a city 4 hours away from my home town; a city where when you mention British Columbia to the people here, they only think of that one place; Vancouver. A very bizarre happening, but one that certainly made world news.
On the drive to the small village where my host grew up and where he was taking us all for breakfast, we discussed a few topics and I was ashamed to have this decapitation news so prominently featured. The funny thing was that all my Mexican friends knew more about the details than I did. . . due to the fact that I don't watch TV, or read papers. Mexicans love drama. Some kidnapping stories were brought up and then it got on to corruption and making a living and complaints about the government.
At this village of Santa Maria, we went for breakfast at - you guessed it- a taco shop. I had tacos al chicharron and also with cactus. Jorge had tacos al labios (pig lips) and also some chicharron (pig skin). Damn they were good, regardless of what body part of the pig they were made from. Que riquisimo!
It was a very dusty little village; from the table in this tiny taco place I could see across the street a big giant pile of corn that had been dumped in front of a store/house and a lady was shucking it all single handedly. I felt like I was in a 1960 dusty mexican western film. We stopped by a butcher who Juan Carlos knew. and who gave us sampes of fresh chicharonnes. The pig is a very useful animal.
Then off to the village of Tonela, where EVERYTHING is made; pottery, textiles, wood, furniture, porcelain sinks, glassware, all things called artanesia. The prices were amazingly low and I just about lost my mind, prevented by the fact that I didn't have a transport truck readily available. It did give me some ideas though. Again, Jorge was very patient and gave me tips and advise.
It was a long day, and we got dropped off at the station for the 5 hour bus ride home without any lunch. Luckily, I had snacks which I surprised Jorge with right when he was getting miserable about not having eaten. We watched The Sixth Sense and had the seat with what looked like the only movie screen. It was fun and one of the best parts of the trip. We talked and I learned more spanish words, and saw the most beautiful amazing countryside and fields of blue agave which they call Manguey here. It was spectacular and I only wish we could have gotten off to take decent pictures. As it was I felt like a goofy tourist taking them through the windows of the bus, but hey, I was a goofy tourist. We also watched a movie dubbed in Spanish, and it was another learning experience for me. Jorge is so patient with teaching, and loves to exchange cultural questions with me.
Luckily, I didn't have to use the bus bathroom once. When we arrived at the station in Vallarta and got off the bus, I was hit with an incredible wave of heat that felt like a giant sack of potatoes landed on me. It was intense. The heat had worsened in the last two days here. Great. Walking into my apartment that had been closed up for two days was almost as bad. But luckily, the rain came. And even though it can certainly ruin plans as well as shoes, I love the rain here.
No comments:
Post a Comment