24...
So I was thinking...I wish my life were a story like the ever-popular (and missed in my heart) 24....or a hilarious version of the movie "The Truman Show." Because, really, these last 24 hours could truly make a hit tv show or movie series in two seconds flat. Here goes:
Okay....so I was told that there was an old friend of my family's who had a house in Ajijic. She invited me to come over this weekend and stay, but I tried calling her for a period of five hours and got a busy message every time. I tried calling her cell phone numerous times, but could not discover the dialing code (I still don't have a clue how to dial a cell in the states). Anyways....so I missed my chance this weekend, but was thinking about the number I had tried and a card I had been given from a lawyer in Ajijic...the problem was not the phone line...it was the number the lady had given me. Turns out, they were backwards. I tried. Wah lah. She's there until Tuesday. Come over. Life's good.
Ok...so I tell her that I'll be leaving from GDL around 4 and get there around 5 more than likely. I discover, however, upon arrival to school, that I was mistaken with my class time. Instead, I taught an hour later. Turns out, I ended up not leaving school until nearly 6p.m. No sweat. I hailed a taxi (this having accomplished after RUNNING through the streets to the busiest street so that I could guarantee a cab). I slung my right hand in the air....successful! Okay...so I commenced conversation with the driver. I ask him to please take me to "La Central Vieja" (it's the old bus station in GDL...only neighboring pueblos receive service from there now...all of the other cities around the country receive service from La Central de Camiones). We're conversing. He drops me off. "Cuidese, mija" (take care...)...and I run to the opposite patio to purchase my "boleto" (ticket). Turns out...I'm exactly 4 minutes late....and missed the bus. Not to worry. Another one heads out in thirty minutes. I lose the high heels, drop them in my flourescent orange Sponge Bob tote (compliments of my sister)...amidst my lesson plans, manual, resume, powder, deoderant, and extra classroom materials- in total, that crazy bag has to weigh 30 pounds.
Finally, I get on my bus #124. The ride is about an hour....I tried to sleep, but kept getting knocked in the head by people passing by with their bags. So I gave up on trying. We pulled in to the bus station in Chapala...and I asked the viejo (older gentlman) next to me "Disculpa...Usted conoce a esta ciudad" (excuse me, are you familiar with this city)...."Si, he vivido aqui por toda mi vida" (yes, I've lived here all of my life). "Entonces, sabe en donde esta un restaurante se llama Salvador" (ok! then, do you know where is a restaurant called Salvador). He told me he did...and that he would take me because it was really far. Sweet. We walk down the street to his van. We talk. We get there.
He drops me off...and I stare at the six restaurants that face me. Not one says "Salvador." I approach the first suited gentleman I see...he must have been the owner or a higher-up. I asked him if the name of the restaurant was Salvador...and his return look let me know that I was sadly mistaken. He had no idea what I was talking about, but assured me he'd return with an answer. I followed him to the outskirts of the kitchen, where I watch a cook yelling at a server for taking a short order rather than selling something on the menu. Later, he comes back. "Esta en Ajijic?" (is it in Ajijic). I told him I didn't know, but that it very well could be. He told me that he thought that it was and that I should go there. The problem: Ajijic is about 10 minutes from where I was...he even told me that it would be a short run and laughed. He called a cab for me. I left....again.
The cab driver caught wind that I was interested in buying a car, so he spent his ten minutes with me very wisely trying to convince me that I need his 98 Oldsmobile. He gave me his card and told me how much. I got out at the restaurant. I was retrieved by a friend of the friend of the family. Turns out...it was so late that the whole house-looking arrangement couldn't happen because the lady that I was supposed to meet with went to a funeral. The other lady (from Texas) does not, in fact, have a house or any property in Mexico at this point. So I was given a mini-tour and then taken to Luz's house. In all this time, though....the last bus had left for Guadalajara...and I had just arrived....so I would have to stay because there was no way to reach the city until morning.
If I could tell you in words about the splendor of that house...wow. It was nothing short of magnificient. It IS what you think of when you think of high-class resort living in Mexico. It overlooks the lake and the mountains because it is on the opposing side. It has windows that stretch from the floor to the ceiling...probably twenty feet at minimum. The flowers that encase it are colors like I have never seen. The pool is lit up and flanked by the matching jacuzzi...complete with outdoor bar b que tools. As well, the linens that I slept on probably cost more than my college education (scholarships or no). My breath was literally taken away as I stood gazing out over the beauty before my eyes.
We had dinner...and I commenced with talking to Luz. She's from Ajijic...has lived there her entire life. She's forty and has two precious children. Manuel was the only one home...and we became fast friends. We played several games of cards and sipped coffee together outside. All of his three years' worth of learning his numbers were displayed to me...and he even counted for me in Engish!
After being informed that my journey was virtually useless in that I wouldn't be able to meet with Yoly...nor would I be able to view any apartments that night, a warm shower was the redeeming hope. I took in every fiber of the beauty of the mansion I was enjoying....I curled up under the beautiful blankets...and tried sleeping. I was unsuccessful, partially due to the pounding rain, thunder, and lightning that accompanies us every night of the current rainy season here in Mexico. The shutters were flying open and closed with the pressure of the wind...that had before been cool and calm.
I woke up at 445 to be at the bus stop a little after 5. I was off. Luz and I talked, said goodbye, and decided that we would see eachother as soon as I returned in a couple weeks. I slept in the fetal position on the cushioned seat of the luxury traveler....and arrived to be greeting by the bustle of the working class on their way to their jobs. The bus station was full of hustle...and vendors were everywhere with their breakfast goods and coffee. I asked several people before settling on which bus to take to my house. I decided...and headed out. It was difficult to gauge my location, in that I had never ridden that particular line around the city...abetted by the lingering darkness. The city had not awoken.
I finally grasped my bearings...and sat securely in my knowledge of my surroundings (I was even a little proud of myself for my growing bus-traveling capabilities)....that was UNTIL I got on the streets closest to my neighborhood. I saw the OXXO convenience store, the key-making booth (llaves), and the small bar that gave my street away. I was, sure, though, that waiting until the next biggest intersection (Cruz del Sur) would contribute to a lesser walk....so I waited. As we neared the intersection, however, the bus driver made a sudden left....eeek! We were supposed to go right....in the direction of my house and then following to the Centro. Not so much. I sped to the front and asked the driver to please let me out. He did...but I had a 40 minute hike to my house from that point. It was hilarious. I could only imagine what I must look like...in yesterday's clothes, with yesterday's hair-do....thankfully my friend had lent me his flip flops a few days before...I slipped them on my feet...chewed a piece of gum to cover yesterday's breath....and sincerely felt thankful for the deoderant that I had remaining in the bottle in my bag. On I hiked. I took in every inch of scenery as I hustled...every once in awhile I laughed at the picture of myself in my mind. If only others knew...if only people could watch. I really did feel like I was in some crazy movie plot. I decided that the assistance of my nearly-dead IPOD might lend to my silly fantasy. So I blasted Whitney Houston's techno version of "I wanna dance with somebody"....got in some Jars of Clay...some Amos Lee....some "Purple Rain"....and a few others....
Reached Isla del Coco....ran upstairs. 7:47....I had ten minutes to get changed, re-organized, and outta the house. Thank goodness the air had been so incredibly crisp and energizing. I think I was running off of an hour of sleep. I rushed out of the door only to return for today's class materials...as I had forgotten them on my bed...but what are sixty-three extra steps....hehe. I chuckled at the humor of it all once again.
Got to my bus stop...just in time to witness a fender-bender. A truck hit a car. The lady was pissed....and I'm not exaggerating. She was so angry. The guy was just trying to get to work...not happy...but not outlandishly angry like the lady...yikes. Anyways...so I see my bus, and not really knowing what to do....I leap out into the middle of the street and flail my arm like crazy. Bus pulls over. I get to school.
The day thereafter commenced like normal. All was well. It just amazed me, as I was sitting there with the sun beaming in on my freckled cheeks....man! I love this. From being lost...to missing out on the whole purpose of my day's journey...to forgetting my daily school needs....yeah. It's still somehow perfect. It's crazy. I laughed all the way to school....and turned on Whitney's dance sensation again.....what a day. Wish you could've been there.
Okay....so I was told that there was an old friend of my family's who had a house in Ajijic. She invited me to come over this weekend and stay, but I tried calling her for a period of five hours and got a busy message every time. I tried calling her cell phone numerous times, but could not discover the dialing code (I still don't have a clue how to dial a cell in the states). Anyways....so I missed my chance this weekend, but was thinking about the number I had tried and a card I had been given from a lawyer in Ajijic...the problem was not the phone line...it was the number the lady had given me. Turns out, they were backwards. I tried. Wah lah. She's there until Tuesday. Come over. Life's good.
Ok...so I tell her that I'll be leaving from GDL around 4 and get there around 5 more than likely. I discover, however, upon arrival to school, that I was mistaken with my class time. Instead, I taught an hour later. Turns out, I ended up not leaving school until nearly 6p.m. No sweat. I hailed a taxi (this having accomplished after RUNNING through the streets to the busiest street so that I could guarantee a cab). I slung my right hand in the air....successful! Okay...so I commenced conversation with the driver. I ask him to please take me to "La Central Vieja" (it's the old bus station in GDL...only neighboring pueblos receive service from there now...all of the other cities around the country receive service from La Central de Camiones). We're conversing. He drops me off. "Cuidese, mija" (take care...)...and I run to the opposite patio to purchase my "boleto" (ticket). Turns out...I'm exactly 4 minutes late....and missed the bus. Not to worry. Another one heads out in thirty minutes. I lose the high heels, drop them in my flourescent orange Sponge Bob tote (compliments of my sister)...amidst my lesson plans, manual, resume, powder, deoderant, and extra classroom materials- in total, that crazy bag has to weigh 30 pounds.
Finally, I get on my bus #124. The ride is about an hour....I tried to sleep, but kept getting knocked in the head by people passing by with their bags. So I gave up on trying. We pulled in to the bus station in Chapala...and I asked the viejo (older gentlman) next to me "Disculpa...Usted conoce a esta ciudad" (excuse me, are you familiar with this city)...."Si, he vivido aqui por toda mi vida" (yes, I've lived here all of my life). "Entonces, sabe en donde esta un restaurante se llama Salvador" (ok! then, do you know where is a restaurant called Salvador). He told me he did...and that he would take me because it was really far. Sweet. We walk down the street to his van. We talk. We get there.
He drops me off...and I stare at the six restaurants that face me. Not one says "Salvador." I approach the first suited gentleman I see...he must have been the owner or a higher-up. I asked him if the name of the restaurant was Salvador...and his return look let me know that I was sadly mistaken. He had no idea what I was talking about, but assured me he'd return with an answer. I followed him to the outskirts of the kitchen, where I watch a cook yelling at a server for taking a short order rather than selling something on the menu. Later, he comes back. "Esta en Ajijic?" (is it in Ajijic). I told him I didn't know, but that it very well could be. He told me that he thought that it was and that I should go there. The problem: Ajijic is about 10 minutes from where I was...he even told me that it would be a short run and laughed. He called a cab for me. I left....again.
The cab driver caught wind that I was interested in buying a car, so he spent his ten minutes with me very wisely trying to convince me that I need his 98 Oldsmobile. He gave me his card and told me how much. I got out at the restaurant. I was retrieved by a friend of the friend of the family. Turns out...it was so late that the whole house-looking arrangement couldn't happen because the lady that I was supposed to meet with went to a funeral. The other lady (from Texas) does not, in fact, have a house or any property in Mexico at this point. So I was given a mini-tour and then taken to Luz's house. In all this time, though....the last bus had left for Guadalajara...and I had just arrived....so I would have to stay because there was no way to reach the city until morning.
If I could tell you in words about the splendor of that house...wow. It was nothing short of magnificient. It IS what you think of when you think of high-class resort living in Mexico. It overlooks the lake and the mountains because it is on the opposing side. It has windows that stretch from the floor to the ceiling...probably twenty feet at minimum. The flowers that encase it are colors like I have never seen. The pool is lit up and flanked by the matching jacuzzi...complete with outdoor bar b que tools. As well, the linens that I slept on probably cost more than my college education (scholarships or no). My breath was literally taken away as I stood gazing out over the beauty before my eyes.
We had dinner...and I commenced with talking to Luz. She's from Ajijic...has lived there her entire life. She's forty and has two precious children. Manuel was the only one home...and we became fast friends. We played several games of cards and sipped coffee together outside. All of his three years' worth of learning his numbers were displayed to me...and he even counted for me in Engish!
After being informed that my journey was virtually useless in that I wouldn't be able to meet with Yoly...nor would I be able to view any apartments that night, a warm shower was the redeeming hope. I took in every fiber of the beauty of the mansion I was enjoying....I curled up under the beautiful blankets...and tried sleeping. I was unsuccessful, partially due to the pounding rain, thunder, and lightning that accompanies us every night of the current rainy season here in Mexico. The shutters were flying open and closed with the pressure of the wind...that had before been cool and calm.
I woke up at 445 to be at the bus stop a little after 5. I was off. Luz and I talked, said goodbye, and decided that we would see eachother as soon as I returned in a couple weeks. I slept in the fetal position on the cushioned seat of the luxury traveler....and arrived to be greeting by the bustle of the working class on their way to their jobs. The bus station was full of hustle...and vendors were everywhere with their breakfast goods and coffee. I asked several people before settling on which bus to take to my house. I decided...and headed out. It was difficult to gauge my location, in that I had never ridden that particular line around the city...abetted by the lingering darkness. The city had not awoken.
I finally grasped my bearings...and sat securely in my knowledge of my surroundings (I was even a little proud of myself for my growing bus-traveling capabilities)....that was UNTIL I got on the streets closest to my neighborhood. I saw the OXXO convenience store, the key-making booth (llaves), and the small bar that gave my street away. I was, sure, though, that waiting until the next biggest intersection (Cruz del Sur) would contribute to a lesser walk....so I waited. As we neared the intersection, however, the bus driver made a sudden left....eeek! We were supposed to go right....in the direction of my house and then following to the Centro. Not so much. I sped to the front and asked the driver to please let me out. He did...but I had a 40 minute hike to my house from that point. It was hilarious. I could only imagine what I must look like...in yesterday's clothes, with yesterday's hair-do....thankfully my friend had lent me his flip flops a few days before...I slipped them on my feet...chewed a piece of gum to cover yesterday's breath....and sincerely felt thankful for the deoderant that I had remaining in the bottle in my bag. On I hiked. I took in every inch of scenery as I hustled...every once in awhile I laughed at the picture of myself in my mind. If only others knew...if only people could watch. I really did feel like I was in some crazy movie plot. I decided that the assistance of my nearly-dead IPOD might lend to my silly fantasy. So I blasted Whitney Houston's techno version of "I wanna dance with somebody"....got in some Jars of Clay...some Amos Lee....some "Purple Rain"....and a few others....
Reached Isla del Coco....ran upstairs. 7:47....I had ten minutes to get changed, re-organized, and outta the house. Thank goodness the air had been so incredibly crisp and energizing. I think I was running off of an hour of sleep. I rushed out of the door only to return for today's class materials...as I had forgotten them on my bed...but what are sixty-three extra steps....hehe. I chuckled at the humor of it all once again.
Got to my bus stop...just in time to witness a fender-bender. A truck hit a car. The lady was pissed....and I'm not exaggerating. She was so angry. The guy was just trying to get to work...not happy...but not outlandishly angry like the lady...yikes. Anyways...so I see my bus, and not really knowing what to do....I leap out into the middle of the street and flail my arm like crazy. Bus pulls over. I get to school.
The day thereafter commenced like normal. All was well. It just amazed me, as I was sitting there with the sun beaming in on my freckled cheeks....man! I love this. From being lost...to missing out on the whole purpose of my day's journey...to forgetting my daily school needs....yeah. It's still somehow perfect. It's crazy. I laughed all the way to school....and turned on Whitney's dance sensation again.....what a day. Wish you could've been there.
posted by Courtney @ 6:32 PM
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