The Kindness of Strangers

One has to stay on one’s toes here, ready to leap suddenly in a different direction. Instead of the leisurely morning I’d been told last night that I’d have today, I had to head out the door an hour early and with only five minutes’ notice. I was to get a ride to the bus station, but instead I was directed to a colectivo. To get in I had to shrink myself, and as I bounced along my body kept banging  into metal protrusions and other passengers. We reached my stop, which I didn’t recognize as such. I sat there politely, until several people suggested I leave. I was grateful.

Then I caught a bus for the 1.5-hour ride to Mexico City. At the estactión I searched for and succeeded in finding a bus company that goes to Guanajuato. Bought my ticket (almost $30!) and with ayuda from several people I boarded the proper rabbit-eared vehicle. As you get on they give you free soft drinks. I chose a purple can whose contents I’ll never consume; but how could I resist something called Delaware Punch? For some of the ride I was chatting my seatmate, but I kept dozing off because Spanish takes it out of me. Four-and-a-half hours later we arrived in Guanajuato. When I disembarked, I found mi amiga waiting outside the bus. She kissed my cheek and led me across the street toward yet another bus, checking with the driver to make sure it was going the right place. It was, and he promised to notify me when we reached my stop at el teatro principal. I guess he forgot. It was the woman across from me, who must have heard where I was going, who prompted me to jump off. It’s amazing how people watch over strangers here.

The whole trip took from 9:30 a.m. till 6:00 p.m. Luckily, last night I’d written (in Spanish) to the proprietor of an inexpensive hostel and he’d written back that he had a room. To get here you have to walk up hidden flights of steps and through narrow, winding alleyways. Nonetheless, many people must find their way here, since when I arrived mine was the only dormitorio left. It has its own bathroom, even.

I explored town for a while. I like it here. Lots of activity, on the skinniest streets I ever did see. There’s one called Callejón del Beso, so narrow that the balconies on opposite sides of the street almost touch. There’s a legend associated with it: a Romeo and Juliet kind of saga with an equally tragic end.

As I wandered, I kept veering onto streets that looked interesting, and ended up thoroughly lost on multiple occasions, some of them in the dark. Oddly, many avenidas are underground. Here’s a funky little sound recording I made accompanied by still photos I took.

[flashvideo filename=wp-content/video/singing.flv image=wp-content/video/singing.jpg /]

There’s plenty to do here, but before I go back the day after tomorrow I hope to make the four-plus-hour-each-way trip to Aguascalientes, because I really really really really want to see El Museo de la Muerte.