Return

9.30.07

Return. The midnight flight from LAX to Mexico City greets me with Spanish only announcements and for some reason the Spanish language customs forms are handed to me my the ticket agent rather than English. I take this as a complement and proceed to the gate where I am the only gringa, yet again, and no announcements are made in my mother toungue. It feels comfortable, more like I’m back in NYC, for some reason. I sleep soundly, unlike the last trip which featured the poor man seized by terrorist visions and anti-american diatribes. Finding the bus to Queretero requires dragging my bag all through hill and gone but it is quick and easy and I am soon asleep again, despite the speakers blaring the latest Roberto Benigni film dubbed in Spanish. At the Queretero bus station, multi-hubbed, I drag my bag through hill and dale and pant up to another ticket counter. They just look at me and say “San Miguel?” obvious, turista yo. But I am flattered by a phone card salesman who explains a long distance tarjeta to me and complements my Spanish. It does feel easier this time.

The countryside, now that I’m awake, is beautiful and reminds me of the rolling hills north of Los Angeles. Nothing as developed, but strip away the rubble piles and dirt roads, the tarp lean-tos and corrugated roofed sheds and you can see a Walmart in the future. Well, actually, it’s already here. Gelatin and flan vendors offered their wares on the bus as we pull into a stop and the man in front of me holds a large palm on his lap, I see a bag full of some kind of shrubbery in the overhead and we now pass a corn vendor, selling cobs from the back of his pick up.


Back at the Casa Arellana, it's lovely to see the same face and be greeted like a long lost family member. I get settled and then head out to explore the last day of yet another festival. The Jardin is crowded and thumping with Aztec drummers & dancers.

Luckily sleep comes quickly after watching fireworks later in the evening and my room doesn't seem at noisily beset by dogs barking and trucks under the window.