Sunrises and party buses

I think we have fully settled into our routine at this point. On Monday we missed our first bus, which was kind of exciting (if you like that sort of thing). We ended up taking a taxi out to the villages, which was a bit expensive, but cheaper than staying another night in the hotel. It was also a lot better for my spinal column, and gave us the chance to meet another taxi driver. The taxi drivers here have been some of my favorite people. After spending the summer in Manhattan where the drivers rarely said more than two sentences to me, I especially appreciate the chatty, philosophical taxistas that I’ve gotten around here.

On Tuesday, Matt and I hiked up to the top of a hill that the rancheros call “el Picacho.” I don’t know why it’s called that, and neither do they, but it’s the tallest hill around, and we got there in time to see the sunrise. (Note: The Matt of this semester is not to be confused with the Matt who was my facilitator last year. A couple people have asked me about that, so let it be known that they are different people). The sunrise was really beautiful, and well worth the hike up.

On Friday I had a close call with some nasty dogs. It seems like the further toward the outskirts you get in the villages, the more aggressive the dogs are. Maybe they just don’t get as used to people walking by as they other dogs, or maybe their owners feel more vulnerable, and train them to be more protective. Whatever the reason, I knew that the dogs up this hill could be feisty, but I went up there anyway to do some interviews. Since I’m interviewing every family in the village, it had to be done eventually. I did a couple of interviews, and then found myself at the very last house. The door was open, but no one was in sight. At this point, I made the serious tactical error of calling out a “Buenos días” to get someone’s attention. Next thing I knew, four crazed dogs were bounding toward me, backing me into a thorn bush. I hesitate to speculate about what might have happened next had their owner, Jaime, not appeared at the fence at that moment to call them off. He recommended that I carry a stick up there to hit the dogs with, and gave me one to use. He then proceeded to discuss the disparity in quality of life between Mexico and the United States, and the different social classes within them. Then he abruptly wished me well and went back to work; I didn’t even get a chance to interview him, which means I have to go back to his house (and his dogs). Next time I’ll walk softly and carry a big stick. And bring Matt. (At this point I have to ask my parents and other assorted relatives not to stress out over this…Just try to enjoy the story and the fact that nothing bad actually happened to me.)

This Saturday we took the early morning bus back, which leaves around 6:40 from Santa Rosa. I don’t know how many of you have heard of the MTV reality show “Pimp My Ride,” but I think this bus may one time have participated in said show. I’ve never seen an episode, personally, but I imagine that it involves taking cars and adding purely ornamental and/or convenience features to make them more…pimp (Note to parents once again: Pimp in this context is not referring to the manager of female prostitutes, but rather to a certain type of masculine attractiveness). Anyway, the bus is decked out in colorful lights, the interior mostly lit by the black lights in the front. The area around the driver’s feet lights up when he brakes, and music blasts through the fairly impressive sound system.

The sunset that Matt and I enjoyed Tuesday morning...

The sun rising behind some nopales...I really like this one.

Some women carrying things on their heads. For anyone who has never tried this, you really should so you can appreciate the difficulty of the feat.

Matt and me eating some tasty tacos this weekend. Mmm...I miss this food when I´m back in the States.