Bienvenidos a México

To make our way into Guadalajara Centro we caught the bus near San Jose del Tajo RV Park, had a free-wheeling ride on the ring road, then transferred to the subway.  (Well, it's a surface train mostly, but let's not split hairs.)

We boarded the train at the end of the line and there was a mad scramble for seats with not enough to go around.  I was tapped on the shoulder and directed to a seat.  Then, to my surprise, a young man reached out to Jim and gave him his seat a couple of places away from me.  This struck me as unusual.  Surrendering a seat to a woman is a fairly common occurrence and, since the person giving it up to me was several decades younger, I was happy to accept with thanks.  But offering a seat to a man?  For a second or two I sized Jim up.  Was he looking ancient and decrepit?  Did that dash through the 4-storey pedestrian overpass do him in?

As the train reached cruising speed and the motion steadied, the young man came and stood in front of Jim.  He was about 30, neatly dressed and held a backpack to his chest. He said to Jim, in  perfect English, "I didn't give you my seat because you are an old man.  I gave you my seat because you are a guest in my country."  My eyes filled with tears.  The young man and his friend were teachers.  They talked to Jim through the entire twenty minutes of the journey about Mexico, tourism, the country's problems, its image abroad and their own lives.

They asked Jim what he liked best about Mexico.  He said, "The history, the scenery and the people."  Then he corrected himself.  "Excuse me, I said that wrong.  The best thing about Mexico is its people."

Guadalajara

Guadalajara, GDL, or 'Guad':  it's the Big Smoke in the region of Mexico known as the Western Central Highlands.  The population is at least 4.5 million, the traffic is ferocious, but it's a great city to visit.

The RV park is just at the edge of the city, so a bus and subway trip took us to the Centro.  We strolled through the enormous market, buying only a pork torta.  Our first sandwich here two years ago opened our eyes and stomachs to this gastronomic delight.

The central area of the city is a long corridor of linked plazas filled with fountains and sculptures, and surrounded by museums, galleries, churches and other historic properties.

Not all sculptures feature famous faces.

Current Location

We left Roca Azul Feb 9 and came to San Jose del Tajo Trailer Park in Guadalajara. Being here enables us to take part in the contemporary Mexican past-time of shopping at Home Depot and the Walmart Superstore.  It has been raining since we arrived, giving us no excuse not to tear the RV apart as planned.  This is an effort to make an aged motorhome look merely middle-aged.  Seriously, Vagrant Van now has a spiffy new floor, a restored dinette and will have its settee cushions recovered once we can find someone to do the job.

But if the rain doesn't stop soon we may have to think seriously about going south or east or wherever it's drier.

Small Town, Mexico

There's no one version of the Mexican small town, but most of those we have visited have several features that are common to them and which make them quite different from Canadian towns of similar size.

Jocotepec, a couple of kilometers from Roca Azul RV Park, has a population of about 18,000 but occupies a land area we would associate with a town of only a couple of thousand.  Houses are smaller, often attached, and often have no yards so occupy quite a small lot.  Most are masonry construction -- poured or block concrete, older ones may be adobe style.  Colours vary by town and region, but vibrant blues, yellows, greens are common.  Houses in more prosperous areas are frequently hidden behind gates or large nondescript doors.  You have no idea what is inside!  Wealthier homes often have courtyards hidden from street view.

Along the town streets (not built for RVs or even for the large SUVs that the up-and-comers favour) a high proportion of doorways are retail spaces.  They are enclosed by metal pull-down shutters, like small garage doors.  During business hours they are open to reveal small produce markets, plasticware outlets, cosmetic or accessory shops, shoes, clothing, hardware, takeout foods, anything you can imagine.  The many tiny businesses in small -- and large -- towns cover the gamut of residents' needs.  People still shop locally and can generally find everything they require in walking distance.  We have had little trouble acquiring basic tools, sewing supplies, pharmaceuticals, housewares or (oh joy!) fresh baked goods in the smallest villages.

The compensation for the small houses is the town plaza or zocalo.  It's the life of the community.  You find a large public space, possibly treed, perhaps with a bandstand at the centre.  Sculptures and fountains may be present, with a nod to the town's historic or current claim to fame.  Food and craft vendors often set up mobile operations daily.  The facing streets cater to the crowds, with restaurants and simple taco shops, medical services and the better retail outlets. The major church will normally be adjacent.   The square is peopled from morning til late night.  All ages are often present together.  Music is a regular feature in the evenings, especially during fiestas.

How this blog works . . . or doesn't

This is our fourth winter RVing in Mexico.  It's been a wonderful experience in this beautiful country.  We have been treated with great kindness and hospitality by the Mexican people we have encountered.  We've come to love the country, though our hearts break for its many problems.  We plan to leave Mexico late this winter to move on to our next adventure, exploring some of the southwestern United States.  This blog is a way for for me to acknowledge and remember our Mexican travels.

Along with what Mexico has given us, we have also become part of the RV world.  In particular we have joined the many Canadians, a smaller number of Americans and citizens of other countries who come to Mexico every winter for the warmth of its climate and people. We have found RVers generally to be sociable people, open to adventure and to fun.  Some of them have become friends we hope to keep forever.

As for the blog, it's never yet been up to date.  I try to select representative pictures of what we see and do and post them with a date that approximates when events actually occurred. You won't see many identifiable individuals other than me and Jim, out of concern for the privacy of others.  Also, it's not always possible to upload pictures due to the quality of our WiFi connection, so sometimes the pictures will be inserted later.  The blog won't serve as a guide to travelling through Mexico.  It's not a daily journal of my life or a philosophical document.  I don't have to admit to any foolish  episodes I'd rather keep to myself.  I'm not trying to recreate Eat, Pray, Love, though I can say that the eating and loving are constants.  The praying mostly happens involuntarily when we driving.  

Cheers!

Jocotepec Delights

Going to town is not a bit like a trip to Stavanger Drive.  We had a car for a Sunday courtesy of our grand friend Jack, native son of Fortune, Newfoundland, now retired at Roca Azul after a career that took him right across Canada.  Having a set of wheels meant we could cover more ground than usual.  And what did we see?

While sipping cappuccino at the gringo coffee shop on the plaza, we noticed a major event involving hundreds of local citizens lined up to cast ballots.  If my later search of the internet did not lead me astray, this may have been a primary-style vote to choose the presidential candidate for the ruling PAN party.  President Felipe Calderon completes his 6-year term this year.  The party's chosen nominee is a Josefina Vazquez Mota. 

It wasn't market day, when a long street in the heart of town is taken over by vendors, but we still found goods of all sorts on offer. 

Jocotepec has a fabulous malecon on its shoreline.  The walkway and park bordering the lake draw local families and visitors for recreation, boat tours, picnics and just to enjoy the splendid scenery.

We chatted with a man taking advantage of the outdoor gym equipment.  He told us he used to live in the US and played in a rock and roll band and that he LOVED Credence Clearwater Revival.  He broke into song and soon the three of us were singing as we peddled our machines.

Cotton Fields

When I was a little bitty baby My mama would rock me in the cradle, In them old cotton fields back home. It was down in Louisiana, Just about a mile from Texarkana, In them old cotton fields back home. Oh, when them cotton bolls get rotten You can’t pick very much cotton, In them old cotton fields back home.

Music Weaves Magic

Saturday night Happy Hour at the Roca Azul lighthouse.  Beautiful night.  The almost full moon was ducking in and out of the clouds.  Rick, ex-Brit and enthusiastic fan of wartime morale-boosting songs as well as the worst of Johnny Cash, has thoughtfully brought his sound system for our entertainment.  Then several members of the BC trio of couples step forward to sing songs more familiar to many of us.  Confusion reigned as we did the Canadian version of This Land is Your Land, followed by Four Strong Winds, but we soon found common ground with our American friends with many of the songs we've all sung at campfires -- CCR, John Denver, Beatles tunes.  Not necessarily in tune but done with gusto.

Suzy and Gary joined us late as one of them has been to the dentist. (At $30 a time, it's wonder any of us has a tooth that has not been examined locally by the end of the winter.) Suzy, who speaks with a lovely accent from the Deep South, asked tentatively if she might sing for us.  When she opened her mouth we first recoiled in embarrassment at the contrast between her astonishingly beautiful voice and our lusty wailings.  Then we listened in rapt appreciation. She told us she learned this old Mills Brothers song to sing for her son who was being deployed to Iraq.  (Okay, you try reading the lyrics with dry eyes.)  Thank you, Suzy.

'Till Then

Till then, my darling, please wait for me 
Till then, no matter when it will be 
One day I know I'll be back again 
Please wait till then 

Our dreams will live though we are apart 
Our love, I know we'll keep in our hearts 
Till then, when all the world will be free 
Please wait for me 

Although there are oceans we must cross and mountains that we must climb 
I know every gain must have a loss, so pray that our loss is nothing but time 

Till then, let's dream of what there will be 
Till then, we'll call on each memory 
Till then, when I will hold you again 
Please wait till then.


Although there are oceans we must cross and mountains that we must climb 
I know every gain must have a loss, so pray that our loss is nothing but time 

Till then, let's dream of what there will be 
Till then, we'll call on each memory 
Till then, when I will hold you again 
Please wait till then.




P.S.  Michael Buble has now recorded this song.