iola likes her doll to go down the slide much more than she likes to go down the slide. She counts uno, dos (as pictured), tres, and somehow those three numbers in Spanish melt my heart.
Zacatecas was so much fun we didn’t want to leave, so instead we put in a full day of fun before leaving (doing this and this, the previous posts). The plan was to arrive Tuesday evening to the house where we’ll be staying for the next three months, not quite a five hour drive from Zacatecas. We’ve learned the potholes alone make it a dumb idea to drive at night here, so we wanted to arrive before sunset. We failed completely at planning this correctly.
Instead of departing when we needed to, which doing basic math would have told us, we couldn’t resist a quaint little cafe/restaurant (neither of those words really applies but I don’t have a better one). Two burritos, three orders of quesadillas, & two liters of bottled water later, I was 114 Pesos ($6.86) poorer. All of it was incredibly delicious. iola loved dipping her quesadillas in the green chile salsa that was too spicy for me. My favorite was “brocheta”, which I think was seasoned beef chopped up together with bell peppers. I can’t guarantee that description is accurate, but I can guarantee it was delicious.
We got lost leaving town, which didn’t help, and even if we hadn’t there’s no way we would have made it to our destination as planned before sunset. So instead we stayed in a hotel on the outskirts of Guadalajara. Last minute? No problem, we’ll give you a clean, modern hotel room with a great breakfast in the 2nd largest city in Mexico for $47.
Workers manually bagging onions on our way toward Guadalajara.
After breakfast and the pool, we walked to Mina El Eden, a 16th century silver mine that’s now in the middle of town. iola fell asleep on the walk, rocked into a slumber by the rough, rocky roads. What she didn’t know was these same rocks nearly ejected her from the stroller multiple times. She quickly woke up when she saw the “choo choo train!!!” we’d be riding deep into the mine. That train is the only thing she liked about the mine visit. The sobs for “more choo choo train!” didn’t stop the entire time we were in the mine. Take a guess if a toddler’s cries echo a lot inside an old mine. Luckily our Mexican tour companions were nothing but kind and understanding…to our faces.
There was a cool rock museum inside the mine and then a tour of the mine that showed how they extracted the rocks manually since the 1500’s. If I had any doubt conquistadors were a-holes, that doubt is gone. 1 to 3 slave miners died on average PER DAY. A slave was lucky to live to the age of 30. Meanwhile we were frustrated our child wouldn’t stop screaming, or might throw Carrie’s phone down about 1,000 feet into the acidic pool of water below us. Seeing pictures on Carrie’s phone was the only thing that kind of made her stop screaming, afterall. Funny the “problems” we have these days.
The mine started collapsing so this picture is blurry. The choo choo train barely got us out in time.
Hotels are cheap in Mexico. Old and rustic (in a good way) or new and modern, your choice for less than $50 US per night. Our breakfast at the cool, old, downtown hotel in Zacatecas included the following:
Our breakfast bill for even a cheap greasy spoon in the US would have been at least $20. The total hotel bill, which included the free breakfast, was $45. Crazy.
iola was excited for her pancakes and even more excited to swim in the amazing pool. I was excited the hotel had free underground parking. I’m perplexed by the economics of these hotels. Are construction costs that much cheaper? Are food costs that much cheaper? Are labor costs that much cheaper? How is anyone making a profit?! I will continue to investigate this. I will also continue to enjoy the great hotel options in Mexico. Just stay clear of the roadside love motels. Lots of those, too! Those will set you back about $20 (or less) per night should you find yourself in the market for one.
It’s amazing how quickly one gets spoiled. Effective immediately I am too good to wipe with anything that isn’t ornately folded.
Today we made it to Zacatecas, capital city of the state of Zacatecas. What a beautiful city. We knew some celebrating was still happening today leftover from Day of the Dead, but we had no idea what was happening, exactly. Today is All Souls Day in English, although the literal translation is The Deceased Faithful, and that’s a better fit for how they celebrate.
We left the hotel for a relaxing afternoon of walking around the city with our only goal being to ride the sky tram that takes you from one mountainside to another. We did that and explored the area where it takes you up high above the city. We walked down the mountain on a steep windy path and ended up by the cathedral. This is where our day got unexpectedly awesome. We showed up right as a parade was starting. A Halloween parade would be the closest explanation in the US, but they take their costumes very seriously. One guy had a real animal head and bones on a stick (see below).
We enjoyed the celebration for some time, then decided iola should be more involved. All the other kids were going from shop to shop in their costumes singing a Day of the Dead song and getting candy in return. Carrie, with her amazing foresight, had packed iola’s pumpkin costume and pumpkin basket in the car. We went to the hotel, dressed her up, and went back out. She loved it! If we’d stay in a store too long she demanded to go back to the street. She got lots of love back. She’s a little blonde in a sea of brunettes. What a fun, unique, unexpected night. My second favorite part of the night, after seeing iola trick or treat in Mexico, was eating street food. Pizza (60 cents), tamales (60 cents), chocolate filled churros (43 cents), all delicious and at a price I can’t afford not to eat them.
(If you haven’t figured this out yet, you can click on pictures to see them larger)
Tamales and a sleepy little pumpkin.
If you are my mom, pretend this post doesn’t exist. Close your browser. Go to bed.
For everyone else, read on for a discussion on Mexican safety. Or my safety.
The guy behind me in line at Mexican customs, a native Mexican who now lives in Texas, asked me, “No tienes miedo?” Aren’t you scared? That prompted a line of questions from me to him to see what he was getting at. I only go outside between the hours of 8am and 4pm. I don’t tell anyone when I’m going to Mexico. I’m worried they’ll kidnap my kids. My family is only along with me this time because my grandpa died in Mexico. They’ll force you to sell everything you have, even make you sell your house in the US, take the ransom from you, and then kill your family anyway. They steal money from poor workers who only make 1,000 pesos [$60 USD] per week.
This got me thinking. My mom has been telling me the same stuff for months now, but this was a Mexican guy warning me. I had to think for awhile before I could come up with a rational way to draw a conclusion on whether or not I’m putting my family in grave danger by driving them into Mexico. I’m not an expert on Mexico. I’m just getting started, so how can I confidently say one way or another? I determined I must rely on facts, not sensationalism. I asked him if his parents or four sisters, who have lived in Mexico their entire lives, have ever had anything happen to them. One time my sister got her purse stolen, he said.
I mentioned to my new compadre the family behind bumfuzzle.com (our original inspiration to buy a 1968 motor coach), who have traveled around Mexico extensively, for years, with their children. To my knowledge they’ve had zero major incidents. They’re lucky, he said.
Here’s another guy who’s traveled around Mexico for decades and his opinion on Mexican safety: https://www.mexicomike.com/safety/safety-in-mexico.html
It’s largely an argument of statistical comparisons. Mexico has a murder rate of 21.5 per 100,000 people. Puerto Rico, where I lived for two years, has a rate of 26.5 per 100,000. The United States has a murder rate of 4.7 per 100,000. Spain has a murder rate of 0.8 per 100,000. (Source) My chance of getting murdered when going from the US to Mexico increases by a factor of 4.57. The probability increased by 5.63 times when I moved to Puerto Rico in 2004 (I had zero incidents while living in San Juan). After I’ve visited Spain and I return to the US, my chances increase by 5.875 times that I’m going to get murdered. Think about that: my risk factor of being murdered increases more when traveling from Spain to the United States than when traveling from the US to Mexico. Japanese citizens must really fill their pants when they visit the US; their chances of getting murdered increase by over 15 times! Meanwhile in 1979, the year my mom carried my older sister on her lap in the car on the way home from the hospital, there was a 22.702 in 100,000 chance they’d be killed in a car accident.
My conclusion: Bad stuff happens everywhere in the world. If you were truly worried, and if statistics really meant that much, you’d move to Singapore and never leave. For good measure you’d also wear a helmet while driving your armored Mercedes there. We all take calculated risks based on our personal values. One of our main values as a family is to recognize the importance of seeing and understanding other cultures of the world. The benefits we perceive from doing this far exceed any additional risk we assume in the process. If you have different values, that’s fine. People being different is what makes our world incredibly fun to see. Just do yourself a favor and make sure you’re basing your decisions on rational facts, not on hearsay.
Finally, a sarcastic take on the topic by a seasoned world traveler: http://www.gocurrycracker.com/they-will-kill-you-for-your-shoes/
OK, Mom, you should actually go to bed now.
We spent a quick night in Laredo, Texas, then headed out early this morning for the border. Of all the days in the year we could have done this, I think we nailed it choosing Day of the Dead to cross into Mexico.
I don’t often think about all the time I’ve put into learning and practicing the Spanish language, but it’s times like this border crossing that I’m quickly reminded how handy it is to not be lost by Spanish-only signage. It was confusing enough even knowing what the signs said! The border process on the Mexican side took about two hours, which consisted mostly of waiting in lines. First our passports were approved, then we waited in another line to obtain a permit to temporarily import our car into Mexico, with a limit of 180 days. If we don’t return within that time-frame we will lose a $200 deposit and won’t be able to take a car over the border again. Evidently they were having issues with people taking cars over the border to sell in Mexico without paying an import tax.
Leave your gats in Texas, gents.
iola’s first order of Mexican business? Do her business. Please note the yellow ball fringe hanging inside our windshield. We got into the Mexican spirit a few weeks ago.
Sports drink bottle soap dispenser, and don’t you dare try taking it.
Flowers for sale everywhere for Day of the Dead cemetery decorations.
Mexico so far is rough around the edges, but beautiful at its core.
For those of you that don’t speak Spanish, this sign means, “Lift with your knees and wear a sombrero.”
Trash cans are located along the highways every few miles. Great idea if you ask me.
Carrie & iola are in love with libraries. Carrie has declared the San Antonio Central Library as the coolest library she’s ever been to, and we’ve been to libraries all around the world. (The coolest bookstore in the world that she’s seen, however, belongs to El Ateneo Grand Splendid in Buenos Aires, Argentina.)
Even the elevators were unique.
The icing on the cake was a sculpture by my favorite sculptor Fernando Botero.
Goodbye, San Antonio. You are a great time. We’ll be back!