Mexico Stories - Driving

(Ongoing rants from a gringo working in Silao, Mexico, til March '06)

Not all speedbumps are painted yellow and most are indistinguishable from the rest of the roadbed; this make a perverse kind of sense - they are intended to slow you down on the entire length of the road, so why would you warn people exactly where they are (like the U.S. D.O.T. does)? The net effect is that the locals do know exactly where they are, so only we gringos drive slowly in-between them...unless we try to outsmart the bumps and match our speed to the locals'...unless the locals don't care about their undercarriages and don't slow down for the bumps.

There is a spot on the ceiling of our jeep the shape of my head.

(At the grocery - jicama-flavored soda, fresh camomille for sale with the herbs, mysterious cheeses, boxed guava/guyaba paste cakes, baked goods whose sweetness or saltiness I can never guess before biting into one...like taking a sip of milk at breakfast, thinking it was going to be oj. Hand-lettered signs for Viagra at the Farmacia. "KFC" is spelled "KFC" in Spanish. On the first windy day this month, everything turned to dust. A roll of toilet paper is about 2/3's the width of the stuff back home. There's a guy with a 2x4 who hangs out in the parking lot of my apartment building; how do I know whether he is there to keep bandits away from my stuff or to take my stuff away from me - do I tip him for not mugging me? When the maitre'd seats you at the neigborhood, fine dining restaurant, he brings your very own, personal, 4-foot high coat tree to the table. It's not unusual to randomly smell burning plastic in the air.)