Mexico, mucho gusto

Tuve un tiempo fantastico. Muchisimas gracias.

A few of the many things I will remember:

1. Casa Gonzalez. I stayed in 14 different hotel rooms over the last five weeks, but I always returned to Casa Gonzalez in Mexico City. The courtyard was carpeted in fresh flowers brought in daily, the rooms were filled with heavy wood furniture and bizarre photographs (such as huge parade balloon devils) and every morning the owner would eat breakfast with the guests, advising us on our travel plans. All this for about $40 a night.

2. The Embassy Starbucks. Tucked between the Sheraton and the U.S. Embassy is the best Starbucks I have ever encountered. I was never a big fan of the coffee chain in the U.S., but here it became a comforting reminder of home. It helped that next door was a gift shop that sold the New York Times, flown in daily from Southern California. For a few dollars, you could (and I often did) get a Times and Frappucino and sink into one of the soft, plush armchairs. It was a complete delight.

3. The land. From the rugged mountains to lush forests to stark deserts, Mexico is a gorgeous country. I spent entire bus rides looking out the window, entranced, ignoring the book in my lap. The land also had the capacity to surprise -- and this was never more evident than during an interview two days ago in Cerro de las Tablas, a southern city on the Pacific coast. Sitting on a front porch, talking and drinking with several men, the land began shaking violently. My guide, Eduardo, leapt from the porch and ran into the center of the road. I was too stunned to do anything but reach down and secure my Corona. Later I learned I had experienced my first earthquake.

4. The coffee. I've never been a coffee drinker, but here they give it to you with almost every meal, whether you ask for it or not. Now I'm addicted to the stuff. Muchas gracias.

5. The cabdrivers. My basic Spanish was adequate enough that I could explain to a cabbie where I was from, what I was doing in Mexico and what I thought of the country. Without fail, this would prompt of torrent of Spanish I could never comprehend. One cabdriver, though, after I apologized for my terrible Spanish, said to me, "No, esta bien." He was probably just angling for a good tip. He got one.

(Fears of taxi kidnappings did not materialize for me. I was careful, though, in the taxis I chose, always making sure the driver had a crucifix dangling from the rearview mirror. Using this fail-safe method, I always reached my destination securely.)

6.The unhurried pace of life. Interviews that would start around 3 or 4 in the afternoon, and that I assumed would take about an hour, had a tendency to extend well into the evening and sometimes involve transfer to a bar for much consumption of alcohol. I learned to relax and let these things play out naturally, but I also learned to ask the most important questions early on. A few hours into interviews, getting straight answers could prove challenging.

7. The kindness of strangers. I was constantly amazed by the unhestitating willingness of people who had less than me, who did not even know me, to offer me food and drink and shelter, and, in one case, the use of an excellent horse for two days. Beyond that, they were willing to open up their lives and speak to a stranger honestly and from the heart. Their stories are the ones I will remember the most.

I return home tonight. Hasta luego.