To leave is to die a little.
I read this somewhere recently, I think in the book I'm reading. It's so true. With a lot of the places I travel to, I find it difficult to leave, some more than others. More so recently, and especially now in Guadalajara. Making friends, and having to say goodbye, is all a part of the trip. There will always be more people down the road, and I can always return to the places I've really enjoyed. Some people I will never see again, and others I hope to one day later.
I've had the chance to live in a city in Latin America for a while, and I've really enjoyed it. It seems like it's a game Mexicans play. Almost like they want to see travelers end their journeys, to stay in places as long as possible, like they want to be able to say "see, he/she ended their trip because our city is so great..." It was definitely no exception in GDL. My friends at Casa Ciclista would always tell me, "it's ok, you're here for a couple months...", after I arrived. I've never had a place, where I've had no pressure to leave, instead, I'm pressured to stay.
Looking back at the weeks I've spent in Guadalajara, I have so many memories.
I went on several different organized bike rides around the city. Most were at night, and lots of people participated. Going on these rides gave me the opportunity to see a lot of different parts of Guadalajara, and the outlying towns.
I went to a dentist because it had probably been about a year since my last cleaning. Apparently I had a couple cavities, and one of my amalgams was old and needed to be changed. For 1300 pesos (just over a hundred bucks), my teeth were cleaned, and all three cavities were filled with an epoxy compound. I didn't know what to expect going to the office, but I asked around and was told of a good place to go. She did a good job, and fixed the two small caries quickly. When she went to fix the amalgam, I figured she would give me a local anesthetic, but started drilling. In no time, I flinched from the pain and had to ask for anesthetic (which fortunately she provided). I don't know if Mexicans are tolerant to the pain, or if it's customary to ask for it, but I'm a masochist only with certain things.
I fixed so many things on both my bike, and my gear. Before I arrived, I knew that I probably needed to replace the chain. When Bernardo started looking over the bike, the next thing I knew I was overhauling my bike, replacing the grease in all the bearings and joints, even in my pedals, even fixing rust spots "oh, there's some rust there." or "oh, you should clean that and regrease that part". It's kind of a joke among us because Bernardo is a perfectionist, but it's a good thing that I spent so much time on the bike; it rides a lot smoother now. Hopefully I won't have any more problems, any time soon. I put a new bottom bracket, and a new chain on. Bernardo noticed that my front hub was a bit bad (scratched on the race where the bearings are), and since I started the trip with a used front wheel (kind of dumb considering the length of my journey) I had a new front wheel built. Because the shop only sells decent hubs in a pair, I had the rear wheel rebuilt with a new hub as well, but reused the spokes and rim. There were annoying things to fix, like the hoseclamp that holds my handlebar bag on, and always snags the cord for my headphones when I'm riding. I fixed the hole in my tent from when one of the poles snapped. With the help of Bernardo, I fabricated aluminum brackets to reinforce the supports on my rear pannier bags (which had started to fall apart). So now I've got a my bike tuned nicely, gear fixed up, I just have to get back on the road.
I met a fine young woman by the name of Yanet a while back. I've
spent a lot of time seeing the sights with her in the city, as well as
the surrounding area. I've enjoyed my time with her immensely.
Now I've got people, my friends, telling me "no te vayas Miguel. No te vayas..." (don't go Miguel) - and really meaning it.
How heavy.
Soon, I'm leaving my friends, my lady, y mi casa nueva, reluctantly. I know there is still much to see in my trip. I realized a couple days ago, that I only have a couple months left in my visa for México. This is a big wake up call because I'm not even halfway through the country. Originally when I had my passport stamped, I thought "oh 6 months, that's more than enough time to get through Mexico" Never did I think that I might be pressed for time to get out before then. I might have to make a detour to Guatemala early to renew my visa. Good motivation to get going, because I don't have much. I'm trying to muster some courage and some strength. I know the hardest part is leaving. Once I'm on the road, things smooth out, and I get into a rhythm and start focusing on my next goal (location).
I remind myself that I can always return, but I can't always finish this trip.
Some Thoughts While Riding (around the city):
I might have said in my last post that GDL is a bike friendly city - with all it's bike only paths around town and such. It's not true. It's a very dangerous city to ride in (like many others). ¡Los conductores de pinches camiones son muy malos! In Mexico, pedestrians and bikers don't have the right of way, cars do. No respeto para nada. The buses are the worst part. As I ride around town, I often have to take over the right lane since there aren't a lot of bike lanes. As the buses pass, they
almost always pass so close I could easily touch them. When I hear the sound of a bus approaching from behind, I cringe and tense up, waiting to be splattered on the road. Every once in a while, people will tell me about the Narcos (the drug cartels), and/or advise me to have caution. I'm more worried about the damn buses, or other drivers, than the Narcos.
There are lots of words and phrases to certain areas it seems like (but it's also probably because I'm starting to understand a lot more). I've been practicing my spanish a lot recently. For one, Yanet doesn't speak a word of English. I've noticed they say all sorts of things such as: no mames/no manches (sort of like no way), raton (a segment of time, or simply means later), padre or que padre (cool), chido (cool).
People say "bye" to me, and I say "adios" - an interesting duality.
If I ever had a bit of xenophobia, it's sure fading fast. Most times now, I'm amazed (like the other Mexicans) when I see another white person from the North, or from Europe (gringo or güero), or black person... it's so uncommon.
As a man of science, I try to understand things and analyze them. With a language, it's difficult for so many reasons, but one is that sometimes you just have to commit things to memory. There are certain expressions or phrases used, that don't translate well, or have a different meaning, resulting in more confusion.
It's interesting to think that natives traveled, where I've traveled, hundreds of years ago, the thousands of kilometers I've covered, and more. I don't know if the population of the Americas, via the ice bridge from Russia, was accomplished in a short time, or was more of a general progression and migration. I do know that it must have been insane. To cover the lands I have traversed, by foot, without roads, cities, or advanced comforts in our technological age (like sleeping in a warm, dry tent at night - one pleasure I could always remind myself that I had something to look forward to after a cold, wet day of riding), must have been incredibly difficult, and slow going.
