No Light, No Water, No Power + Guitars = Tijuana

By now most of you know that I am back in the belly of the beast...that beast would be the USA...yes, I have been re-eaten by it. I am in San Francisco for the moment...hanging out and resting up...having a vacation from my vacation as they say. It is strange to be back, a lot of culture shock on this re-entry...but more on that later. I wanted to fill in the blank spot between the gnarliness of my sick days in Guatemala and here, the healthy (more or less) days of San Francisco.

I left for the Aurora Airport in Guatemala City at 4 in the morning. Left Pedro Hermano Hostel happy to never see it again. My fever had backed off a bit but not completely. My gastro-intestinal gnarliness was just kicking into high gear it seemed. I flew up to Mexico City and spent my layover shuffling between men's rooms which are kept surprisingly spotless and nicely fragrant by small old men who I now have a much greater appreciation for. Shitter stalls in third world airports can be shady at best, but I will give Mexico City a 9.5 out of 10 in this department, and that really is a good grade. Anyway, my stomach was clearly in control of things at that point. It was not pretty. I got on the plane to Tijuana ready for a miserable few hours, but for whatever reason, my stomach relented, allowing for a decent flight.

I sat next to a guy called Rolando on that flight. I tell you what, I met at least one interesting person on each leg of this long journey and I must say that Rolando was one of the raddest. Full on stories of robbery and violence on the streets of Mexico City; sex, drugs and rock and roll. He was on the way to Tijuana to "pick something up" to "take back to the family" in El Distrito Federal. He wanted to be friends for life, this he told me, but I couldn't help but get the feeling that this guy was already operating on the dark side of the force. When we arrived in Tijuana he suggested that we share a cab and that I stay at the same hotel as him. I declined and dodged my way out of what I perceived to be a shortcut into the Mexican Border Holding Cells...only later to wonder if it wouldn't have been better to go with him.

I ended up cabbing to the center of Tijuana and found a hotel. My first thought in Tijuana was this, "Why the hell do the gringos call the place Tee-ah-wanna?" More specifically, where is the 'ah' consonant coming from. Everything in spanish is pronounced exactly as it reads...so if there were an 'ah' in there, the city would be spelled, Tiajuana. But it's Tijuana. So WTF? I was fevered...not a big deal, but wtf.

My second thought there in Tijuana was, "Man this place really is a craphole!" Ha ha! No joke there! From all you hear about the place, it sounds like quite a destination, but it isn't...not for much more than cheap tourist panchos and sombreros and hookers and donkey shows. I was there for none of these reasons, so I didn't need to kill much time there to be done with it. I did manage to get dueced there, which is something I think you need to experience if you want to really be able to say that you have experienced Mexico...it is a funny story, that goes something like this:

I get from the airport to my hotel by taxi. It was driven by a young Mexican guy who had lived in San Diego and worked at a Radio Shack. He had been deported, so he was none too enthusiastic about the aforementioned beast of America. That may have factored in to the recommendation he gave me for a place to stay. There is no such thing as cheap accomadation there...unless you want to listen to dudes pounding hookers all through the night. Those 'Love Hotels' are not unique to Mexico, but the security in them is remarkably low, not to mention the company and ambiance issues. So this guy recommended a hotel that cost 30 dollars a night, which to my South American sense of lodging seemed like a lot. But he said it was a safe place and as comfortable as anything. When I got there there was a group of grim looking riff-raff in the driveway of the hotel. Grimacing and giving the newly arriving gringo the furry eyeball. When we got into the hotel I was given the option to see the room, which I waived like an idiot. I was just tired and my stomach was ready to empty again so I just wanted a place to land. The guy working there asked if I was gonna be there for one night or two, 'cause there was gonna be a discount for two nights. I said two, like an idiot, and he said if there was a problem he would refund my money the next day. Ok, cool. So he takes me up to show me the room after I payed and there's another group of riff-raff chillin' out in the hallway. They give me a smile that makes me think an attack is imminent. Ok...cool. We go in and the guy opens the curtains to let the light of early evening in. I ok the room and note that there is no TV like he told me. So he runs out to get the TV and comes jogging back a minute later with it. He plugs it in and then turns to me with a sheepish look on his face and says, "Ahh, so, right before you arrived, there was an accident and a car ran into a power pole and we have no light. But only for fifteen minutes!!" I grimace to myself and immediately do the latin american math. Fifteen minutes doesn't ever really mean fifteen minutes. Each country has its own conversion factor, and Mexico is one of the worst...so I'm figuring about an hour and a half.

I am starving at this point so I go to test the lock on the door and then I do my best to stash my pack and belongings because an infant could sneeze and the lock would give. Again I curse to myself. I leave and hit the street and find a restaurant to get something to eat to go. I get chili rellenos with rice and beans and some sort of beef soup and I cruise back to the hotel room. The power is still not on so I eat in the last of the light that is faintly streaming in through the curtains. My hands and face ended up with beans and cheese all over them so I go to wash them in the sink and oh! whaddaya know, there's no water!! Ha ha! Great. No light, no power, no water. And I am standing there in the dark with beans on my face and my gastro-intestinal beast is starting to revolt. Not a good thing. Funny, but not so funny.

I ended up laying down and falling asleep with my pocket knife open by my pillow. Riff-raff caroused in the hallway for most of the night and a couple times it seemed like they were burrowing through the wall. In the morning I awoke in the pitch black and tested the light switch...nothing. Of course. I had greatly underestimated the Mexican Conversion Factor!!! No light, no power, and still no way to wash the chili rellenos off my hands!! That was when I decided that I would only be staying there for one night. In the gray early light filtering, once again, through the curtains, I did the old 'final pack in Latin America before the crossing the American Border' operation. Then I went to try to get my money back...

This, too, was comedy, and I was silently resigned to fail at it. The Mexicans have a quiet way of enduring the blah blah blah of the gringos, and as I pried at this guy to get my down payment back for the night I wasn't going to stay, I watched from behind my own eyes as he just smiled and nodded. He said that the money from the day before was already gone and that there were no other employees to go get it. The owner wasn't around and he couldn't call anyone. Because he, himself, was poor, he couldn't give me the money out of his pocket and there was no one to borrow it from. He was happy to give me credit to stay there again later, but I had, and still have, no intention of going there again. He said I could wait until more customers came and payed and then he would give me my money. I came and went a few times throughout the morning and no one showed up. I know he never had any intention of giving me that money. I knew the whole time that I was screwed but I had to try. I told him that I thought it was bullshit and that I had payed for the night before only to sleep in a cave with no light or water...he just nodded and agreed that it was messed up. It was pretty funny. Like we were playing this game that we both already knew the outcome of. So I left without my money and in place of it I took a handwritten business card with two nights of credit on it. Super.

The best part of Tijuana, aside from leaving it, was guitar shopping. I went to a few different shops and ended up in one with a hilarious group of guys who were sitting around singing and playing charangos and guitars. I wanted to buy a handmade mini nylon string acoustic guitar. They had four in the store, and true to their nature, each one played completely differently from the others. I played all four for over an hour and chose the one that I liked. The one I got was from Michoaca, a beautiful golden brown nugget of musical love. After leaving I slung it over my shoulder with my beautifully packed backpack and headed for the border.

I arrived on foot expecting the worst...based on what I had heard traveling around and reading about it. I figured that since we have this huge border issue and immigration debate that it would be a tough place to get through. I was ready to take my pack apart and explain every little trinket that I had. I was ready to undergo interrogation about where I had traveled and who I had been with. And it was all for not. I didn't even stand in line!! It was the fastest customs crossing I have ever had! I walked right up to the guy and he looked at my passport and asked me if I had bought anything. I hoisted the guitar and he grunted at it and let me pass. I walked to the x-ray machine and put my bag on it and it passed through and no one said anything so I picked it up and suddenly realized that I was once again in America! Wow. That was it. There I was, with nothing left to do.

I wasn't ready to stop speaking spanish yet so I changed money and talked to that lady in spanish. I got on the trolley that goes into downtown San Diego and talked to people on there in spanish. After an extensive search for lodging I resigned myself to paying $85 for a room in a Motel 6, and talked to the people there in spanish. I ate at a diner with a Mexican waitress and we spoke spanish. That was nice. The next day I slept in and then took a shuttle to the airport with a Guatemalan driver. I took a flight up to San Francisco and here I am. That was over a week ago now...and here I am...adjusting. More on that later...I just wanted to get the Tijuana chapter written.