Puebla (Adios Mexico)

End of Mexico

I took a trip to Puebla on my way to Mexico City. I need to finish Mexico so I can start on some Peru action.

Puebla was a fairly unremarkable place but I made it interesting. After a few self-imposed glitches, I was finally able to extract myself from Oaxaca. I got to Puebla in the morning and checked into my crappy overpriced hotel room. I need to go to Tripadvisor and straighten them out. I just kind of walked around town like I always do when I get to new place and ended up in what looked like the friendliest place for a beer (also like I always do). I was watching the Mexico vs El Salvador soccer game and I made the mistake of offering the extremely drunk guy next to me my peanuts because I didn’t want them. That, of course, made us best friends. He starts slurring to me in Spanish and poking me about every 20 seconds. I just want to watch the game. He wants to talk politics in barely understandable Spanish. Then of course I’m too good for him because I’m a pinche Gringo when in reality I just can’t understand a word he is saying. I am obviously getting annoyed and a couple of locals pick up on it and step and tell the guy to beat it (very cool of them). The waiter chases him down because he didn't pay and he comes back in and tells the manager that I am paying his bill. I deny that of course and the dude starts throwing glasses on the ground. Five minutes later the cops come in and drag him out. The bar pays my bill and I end up going out with the two local guys who helped me out and they invite me to a baseball game for the local team the next day which was a blast.

The next day was my last day so I decided to go to Popocatepetl. I hopped a bus to Cholula so I could find a collectivo to the general vicinity of Popo. Collectivos are vans that drive along and pick people up and drop them off as they go. Needless to say, you pick up and drop off a lot of interesting people carrying interesting items in the Mexican countryside. Being the only Gringo on a collectivo also makes you a bit of an oddity. The people are curious but polite enough to ask you what the hell you are doing. But if you speak to them they open up with a million questions. The cool thing about the collectivo is that the driver and passengers all work together to make sure everyone gets their stuff strapped to the roof or squeezed into the vehicle itself. People just spontaneously get out and help when the vehicle stops. There were pigs, lumber, sacks of seeds, bikes, plumbing supplies, a businessman in a suit, and many campesinos with farming tools.

I was dropped off in some little village that was allegedly close to the base of the volcano. I couldn't tell if the volcano was actually there because of the clouds but I started walking up a dirt road that some kids pointed me to. I walked up a path and eventually reached a trout farm where I met a teenage Mexican boy who explained to me that it was going to be at least a day's hike to the cone of the volcano. Nobody was home but he offered me food and water if I wanted to make the hike. I decided to head back to the main road which was a 30-40 minute walk. When I got to the road, I thought I would walk up a bit just to get some more exercise knowing that I couldn't even make it up to the restaurant/campground that was 20 km farther up the road. After walking for about 15 minutes, this guy comes flying around the corner in a beat up Nissan pickup with a camper shell and slams on his brakes. He motions towards the back to the truck and I figured, what the hell. So I hopped in the back of the truck and he continues FLYING up the mountain. I have video. This guy was going flat out and sliding around corners and tossing me around the back of the truck. The whole time I was thinking about how I hadn't considered how I was getting down, knowing I had to catch a bus to Mexico City the next day. He dropped me off at the campground and told me he would be going back down in two hours if I needed a ride. Relieved, I found a lady making food by the side of the road and ordered some thing that I couldn't name if you asked me. It was this blue corn tortilla stuffed with cheese, beans, and peppers and cooked over wood. Incredible. I ordered a second. I walked up to a little campground where the guy who gave me the ride was working on the stoves in the restaurant. I hiked around for a while and looked at some really bad Mexican development in a beautiful place. It started to rain so I walked down toward the campground and a bunch of people were sitting in this cabana and they started giving me (good natured) shit. "Hey Gringo, you're a long way from home. What are you doing? Where are you going? Come have some tequila." In Spanish of course. So I went into the cabana and the woman who seemed to be the ring leader told me to pour myself a drink. And then pour "tia China" a drink. And then pour "Tia Gueta" a drink. And this went on until I poured everyone a drink. They were full of questions about me and my life and we burned through two bottles of Sauza and then the dude who gave me a ride was ready to leave.

The guy invited me to ride up front for the ride down. His name was Santiago and his son, Miguel, was with him. He drove at the same speed (or faster) down the windy road and we just kind of talked about our lives and whatever. He just laughed when I talked about being divorced. He has three ex-wives and "we will never understand women" seems to translate in any language. We were driving past these trees and I was asking him what they were. He kept saying "nuez." I knew what nuez was and should have recognized the trees since I went to school in Chico and since my neighbor used to get drunk and blow them off a tree when I was a kid but I couldn't get it. We pulled over and picked a few green ones and Miguel started peeling them with his pocket knife. He extracted some of it and gave it to me and I said "oh, it's a fucking walnut!" And Santiago tried for the next 20 minutes to pronounce "walnut."
He dropped me off in the village and told me where to catch a collectivo back to Cholula and off I went with the most agro/angry collectivo driver I have ever seen. I was lucky to survive. Got on the wrong bus in Cholula and ended up who knows where. By the grace of some very nice woman, I finally got back to Puebla three hours later (it's 30 minutes from Cholula). Went to a bar/restaurant to have some food and a couple beers and met two very nice girls from Guadalajara. Hung out with them for a couple hours and was leaving and realized my Mexican cell phone was missing. I knew who took it and walked up to the guy, reached into his pocket, took it, called him a puto, and left. The guy who worked there chased me down and apologized, telling me that not everyone in his country was a thief. I told him that I knew that. He was very embarrassed.

I left for Peru the next day. I was sick with a respiratory infection for five days in Peru and also got distracted by a few people (well one in particular) but I am getting caught up now. I will update Peru next.