After a short, torturous night of bad dreams about leaving for Mexico (for an assortment of reasons), I popped thankfully out of bed when my alarm sang at my snooze-inclusive time of 4:50. We arrived at the “Bus Station,” bought a ticket, and rode a long, torturous day through the desert in a fifteen-person van hauling a little trailer with a really low hitch that bottomed out every chance it got. It wasn’t all that bad, I read contentedly, caught up on the previous nights missed sleep, and took in the vast scrub and mountained terrain of northern Mexico. Aside from the reading and viewing, our ride was punctuated by moments of stilted communication with a tenacious eight year old named Jacqueline. She sat behind us with her mother and we would chat together. She knew a few English words, all the important ones like her colors, and numbers, and “shut up.” She wants to go to China because she wants to get to know it. We shared pictures and I lamented putting my back-pack in the trailer because I suddenly realized the true beauty of technology, the ability to share a personal world and moments through media when words are limited. In the trailer, in my backpack, was my laptop which contained my world. So Instead, I read to her from her personal English copy of Dr. Seuss’ “Grinch.” I tried to get a picture of the three of us but she left while I was trying to figure out how to get to our destination once in Chihuahua.
We arrived in Chihuahua and it is a fine looking city, broad streets and well lit, with colorful Latino style buildings and shops lining those streets. Although in one moment we were suddenly cruising past a giant Home Depot, a Starbucks and a Blockbuster and I worried we’d been somehow transported instantaneously to a highway just outside of LA. At the van stop, one of the passengers, a señor Lopez helped us get a cab and rode with us to the ChePe station where, across the street stood our hostel, Casa Chihuahua. Casa Chihuahua get’s rave reviews from Hostel experts all over and so far it’s pretty nice, just no hot water and signs on every door admonishing guests to ‘please get dressed before you leave’ your room or shower stall (it’s owned by a French guy – I think that just about says it all). In the meantime Pop and I grabbed dinner at a street taco stand and shared our meal with a very nice couple who spoke a little English to mix with our little Spanish and we talked about our adventures and our plans. The tacos were tasty and we’ll see how wise an idea that was by morning. In the meantime, no pictures as our van’s tinted windows did not make for good photos and all was dark by the time we arrived.
Buenas Noches!
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