Last Days Abroad

After leaving Guatemala, I discovered the mangled maze of bus routes, the dreary decor of late night passings in bus terminals and the horrible mess this would make of my stomach. I arrived in Tapachula Chiapas Mexico around 7pm (two weeks ago). Just before boarding, the torrential downpour of the nearby jungle entering into the rainy season let us all know who is really in charge by dumping buckets of rain from the sky. At least it relieved us of the sweltering humidity that had recently descended upon the entire region. The goal is to head back to Colola along the Pacific Coast Highway 200 where gorgeous coastal vistas and quiet beach villages gems scattered along arguably one of the most beautiful coastlines in the world.

I happily entered the first class overnight bus that is a Mexican speciality. Into the cushy, air conditioned rolling machine of luxury and immediately where I fall fast asleep, little did I know this would be the last time I sleep well or feel well for the next 36 hours until arriving in Colola. Starting in Tapachula, I would end up taking 6 buses, none of which from this point would be air-conditioned, some of which did even have windows that opened and were packed to the brim with people and packages--- more than anything, it was HOT. So the trek went like this:

Tapachula, Chiapas to Puerto Escondido, Oaxaca-- two buses, 11 hours and one teachers protest. Grade A traveling

Puerto Escondido to Acapulco, Guerrero-- supposedly a first class bus with no air, no open windows except for the emergency escape opening in the ceiling, a seat next an obscene drunk guy that caused me to relocate and my somewhat substantial first meal in days that ended churning my stomach into a mess for the next week. 8 hours in the Nightmare on Wheels transportation line. We arrived to the Acapulco bus station at 1am where I befriended a sweet little old lady who was headed on the same trek as I. We stick together in the shady late-night bus station, she cares for my things while I am loosing a brutal battle in the bathroom, trying not to loose my cookies in a pretty dismal bathroom. Our bus arrives at 3am to the next destination.

Acapulco, Guerrero to Lazaro Cardenas, Michoacan- 6 hours overnight, relative ventilation all the while fighting back the nagging call of my failed digestion to relieve itself right there on the dirty foot rest of the bus-- but I survive. Finally I arrive in my beloved state of Michoacan and immediately I brighten. I recognized the locations posted on the bus schedule and the familiar calls from bus attendants to Maurata and Tecoman. My traveling compañera guides me to the correct bus and as we part ways she assures me that if I am ever back on the coast that there is a comfy bed and family atmosphere for me to enjoy at her home--- probably one of my most favorite aspects of Mexican culture, the sweet, friendly and open hospitality unmatched anywhere.

Final bus trip along the coast Lazaro Cardenas to Colola, Michoacan--- 4 hours in bus with open windows capturing mouthfuls of salty ocean breeze, ripe mango grooves crowd the scenery and offer some of the only green leaves in sight. The rainy season has yet to descend along this part of the coast. I learn that it hasnt rained since I was last in Mexico and the once lush verdant mountains are now a gnarled mess of bare branches and dust. I arrive in Colola and immediately find out friends who welcome me with hugs, kisses and news of a dance to crown the prom queen tonight! Just in time.

I stayed the week in Colola and experienced the authentic Mexican experience that was missing during my first leg of this trip. I spent time with my friend Lupe and her cousins, all of whom are under the age of 23. It spend most of the day helping her cousins Flor and Taña whom help their mother make traditional fare like pork

tamales, coconut atole (a rich, warm drink made from coconut, masa, cinnamon and sugar), enchiladas, salsa de chile guajio which is specific to Michoacan, and any kind of tamarind treat you can imagine--I unfortunately couldnt enjoy a lot of this amazing food due to a bad case of amboebas that I picked up somewhere along the way. I introduced cards games like bullshit and war which we played obsessively, painted our nails, made each other up with lots of eyeliner and talked about the boyfriends they hide from their families. Each night we would watch the amazing Colola sunset and spent the remainder of the night sitting outside in plastic tables and chairs of the roadside taqueria run by Flor and her mother. My final night, I was able to find a lone turtle on the beach and kiss the ladies good bye for one last time. I would then head one of the largest Mexican cities Guadalajara to meet up with my friends Jenny and Deva that have been living and teaching there since August.

I spend a week in Guadalajara adjusting to city life, pubic transportation, any kind of food, supply or service you could dream of and the comforting home of two dear friends. I find myself sick again the first night. Perhaps, I have been meaning to be sick for a long time and my body is just now feeling safe and comfortable enough to let go. Stomach nasty and head cold welcome me to Guadalajara. This doesnt stop me from going to the movies (!), out to dinner and to the beautiful open air markets Mexico has to offer that are unparalled anywhere else I have been.

I am now in Morelia on the last leg of my trip. Back in the city where it all started 9 months ago to the day. Although instead of staying in the grungy volunteer house, I will spend the last days in Mexico with Miriam who is a fashionable and sweet lady with whom I worked in Colola and is just what I need to catapult me back into the developed world. She lives with her parents and siblings in the beautiful mountains of surrounding Morelia-- my favorite of all the larger Mexican cities visited in this outing. We will shop for new clothes, seeing as though I have been wearing the same 4 shirts and 4 pants for the past 9 months, listen to pop music, and dye my rapidly graying mop of hair.

I return to the US on monday June 15 to figure out the next leg of my life, regroup, rest and heal from the most challenging and amazing experiences of my life. If you are in Chicago this summer, we MUST hang out. I cannot thank everyone in my previous life in Chicago and everyone I have met along this journey- I could not have accomplished one bit of this experience without you.