My first day in Mexico

I am, again, sharing a place I have come to know as home.

My first day in Mexico

 

As I rolled across the border at Nogales one thing was clear. This was a different country.

More like a different world! The clean, hard line symmetry of the US had been transformed into a sort of chaos. The streets were rough and narrow. They seemed to go off in all directions and at all angles.

The few road signs that existed had the usual arrows, stick figures, and whatnot, but in the confusion of traffic, they were of little help in terms of navigation. I relaxed as much as I could and followed the car in front of me, taking my chances.

 

As we crept along I began to take notice of my surroundings. I saw that there were myriads of people of all shapes and sizes. They all seemed very busy, which was at variance with what I had heard about Mexico. You know, calm and tranquil and all that.

Men and women and children were walking, running, shouting, laughing, and selling everything under the sun. Nobody was sitting still here in this border town.

Bright colors abounded, adorning the people and the hand painted signs that advertised their wares.

 

Then, I began to notice the vehicles, some of which were newer and well maintained, but my mouth dropped open at the others. Big clouds of smoke belched out of a rusty ford pickup. Horns blared rudely, partly in greeting, partly in annoyance. A battered 83 mustang coupe coughed and backfired as it struggled towards the border and what the driver presumed it offered. Motorcycles and four wheelers in what I suspected to be unnacceptable mechanical condition roared by in both directions, oblivious of the few traffic control devices that existed. These vehicles had no lights, no plates, and bald tires. One four wheeler was being driven by a pre or early teen boy with what looked to be his younger siblings and several friends and cousins hanging from the dilapidated quad from every side.

Yikes! I thought. I gritted my teeth as the grinning young pilot roared around a dump truck that was leaking copious amounts of gravel on the road and only had three tires in the back where there should have been four! I began to laugh. A true deep laugh, evoked by the magic that I had experienced in my first twenty minutes here in this amazing place.

 

Slowly, the traffic thinned and population dwindled as we moved out of Nogales. I am from the Pacific Northwest so my pickup didn't have air conditioning. Didn't need it up there. As I rolled down the two  lane blacktop with both windows wide open, I began to regret not having opted for this option.

The sun seemed to be thirty feet above the cab. An intense heat was slow roasting my scalp even though I was traveling at 85 mph. My God! I thought.

I remembered as a boy I had read Louis L'Amour westerns that told of Sonoran Desert and it's temperature extremes. Even then I knew that Eastern Oregon, where I lived, was part of this desert, and although it was hot at times, I really thought Mr. Amour was exaggerating a little.

I stand corrected.

 

By the time I reached Magdelena my truck was in the red and so was I. I pulled into the first thing I recognized as a store and staggered inside.

"Soda!" I croaked.

"Coka, Sprite o Naranja?" the girl questioned, wrinkling her nose.

"Soda!" I croaked again, a bit louder this time.

She smiled at me then, this angel, and pulled a glass bottle of coke from a bucket of ice on the worn cement floor. She popped the cap off and handed it to me. I chugged the entire pop as three gaping kids stared at me as though they had never seen a thirsty gringo before.

I doubted this.

"Cinco pesos." said the girl.

I put money on the counter and said;

"Gimme another one please."

She nodded and I passed cold sodas out to the kids, taking the fourth for myself. Sliding my change into my pocket I walked out of the store into the inferno. I climbed into my pickup, and climbed right back out.

Holy Christ! I thought. I pulled my cap down low and gazed up and down the street like Eastwood looking for a bandito. I knew the word for Bar in Spanish, but I didn't see one. Rats.

I did, however, see a big Tecate beer sign and I knew that here in Mexico they sold beer at 'depositos', which were beer stores.

Two of the kids in the store were now seated on the porch in the shade. I approached, not knowing conversational spanish, and communicated eloquently. I pointed to my eyes, to them, and then to my truck. Then to myself and to the Tecate sign. One of them nodded the affirmative as he was intelligent. Not knowing much about the wages here I took five bucks out of my pocket and handed it to him. I don't think he moved all afternoon.

 

I walked up to the Deposito and bought a six-pack of talls. I proceeded to open one on the spot, as I was still quite thirsty, and was subsequently introduced to my first law here in Mexico. Cries of alarm ensued and I realized that while you can buy beer beneath the Tecate sign, you may not drink it there. Hmm. Objection noted.

 

Being no stranger to the streets in general, I began to look about for a drinking comrade. Pronto. Across the street and down a little was a big shade tree on an otherwise empty lot. There were some five gallon buckets and wooden crates there as well. These were furniture and this was a park if I had ever seen one. I took a seat on one of the buckets and looked around as I enjoyed a smoke and a cold one. After a bit a couple of guys came by and I shared my beers with them. We had a good time trying to convey concepts and news in two very different languages. As we talked and drank for the rest of the afternoon we watched gigantic thunderheads build off in the distance and slowly move our way. Once I pointed to these clouds and one of the guys said something like, "Si, tormenta vienen."

 

I will never forget the feeling of the late afternoon cloudburst that, did indeed, pass over us. The big black clouds got bigger and bigger as they approached. They were much more grand than the little squalls I was used to up north. The mercury dropped fifteen degrees and then it was raining. Hard. For twenty minutes rivers formed in the dirt streets and the kids all came out to play futbol as the thunder crashed and the lightning flashed.

It was beautiful, intense, and then it was gone.

 

After it passed, leaving a visible swath across the valley floor, I was overcome by an intense hunger. This was aggravated by the wonderful smells that came from little cart that had come out of nowhere and was now sitting in the street, under the big Tecate sign.

Rico Tacos Cabeza, the little announcement said. Me and my new friends ate a couple of scores of them as the sun set in Sonora, casting a beautiful purple color upon the sierra.

 

I am a pretty good judge of quality food, especially if I am half lit, and those tacos were really good.

I have been warned and warned about eating at taco carts in Mexico, for various reasons that just are not backed by much fact. I have since that day consumed hundreds of meals at these family businesses without ever suffering so much as a mild stomach ache.

 

Mcdonalds Hamburgers on the other hand................................

 

Author's Note

Is this clear enough?

Reviews

[Constance]

Those little mom and pop stands extend into Southern and Central California now, too. I always found them worth the risk. The food is the tastiest you can find. From the first real cuisine I had, I grew to loathe Taco Bell. Now I have to make it myself. You cannot find real Mexican food in Kansas. even the Mexicans here seem to have forgotten how to prepare it.
You were indeed clear in what you shared. I could smell the dust, taste the Tecate, and hear the voices of the men you sat to drink with.
Head Tacos? LOL
I love the line "I am a pretty good judge of quality food, especially if I'm half lit". My father thinks he's better at everything half lit. To say you remind me of him is, most of the time, a compliment. :)

[Jocelyn_wonders]

Yes. You wrote it with true feeling. The only thing a bit odd was ... opted for this option. You have a distinct writing voice.
Jocelyn wonders.

[luciddreamer]

amazing....your characters jumped off the page and are forever etched in my mind, although I have never been there, and presume I never will, I feel as though it once was home.

[bunny nabber]

;) i am now a SOLID fan.

love your little excursions, the coke moment and the thunder cloud moment were beautifully painted.
all of it really but those *stay* with me.

what kind of reviews are you desiring?

[Louise]

Tony, I enjoyed the story of your first day in Mexico. It was interesting because I too went through Nogales and down into Sonora. Your story brought back the feelings of great change between Mexico and US. The people everywhere the radios and horns blaring, the colors, everything! I loved the part where you went into the store and bought soda's for the kids standing there. I can see their eyes as they watched you. I like the way you write, like I am right there. Nothing but nothing tastes the same as those tacos by the roadside and off the carts. The smells, the storm, the taste, the feel. I look forward to going again.