On something of a whim Friday night I caught the midnight bus to D.F. (Distrito Federal aka Mexico City). It was actually the 1am departure but midnight sounds so much better and, anyway, it hardly distorts my story; there's a reason why no songs or poems have been penned with a one o'clock setting: the hour lacks the je ne sais quoi of intrigue, adventure, romanticism.
It was cheaper and none the longer in duration to stopover and re-connect in Guadalajara versus taking a direct bus so that's what I did. In hindsight it was a good move psychologically, too. Having to switch buses breaks up the monotony of those long journeys which never make rest stops and, irregardless of the available leg room, makes one feel bound up.
I was only in Mexico City for a matter of hours before I figured it was best to go back home instead of spending the night. Although I like the city there was really no good reason to stay there. So I didn't. I was back in Vallarta Sunday morning. All in all, I spent Saturday on the road!
One of the things I appreciate about D.F. is that I am not a walking zoo. It's bad in Guadalajara but tolerable in Puerto Vallarta and Sayulita. Two Saturdays ago, a friend, also a foreigner, visited me in Vallarta. It was her first visit to the place. Some Mexican vendor shouted to us, The Obama Family! Welcome!
So my friend, a blond girl from Europe, laughs and says to me, What?! I don't look like Michelle. I'm white!
Sometimes the motherfuckers shout that at me and laugh. No offense to the United States President but it's not a compliment and is not meant to be. Their very laughter attests to their cruel intentions. So my friend, a blond girl from Europe, laughs and says to me, What?! I don't look like Michelle. I'm white!
That's a bit of the small racism I encounter here. As soon as Denzel Washington or Will Smith or Michael Jordan or any black male makes another appearance then that's what some of these ignorant peasants
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