Da-Da-Danzon

Part V - Ten Day Jaunt in Mexico



Sadly, it is time to move on from lovely Guanajuato. I truly will have fond memories of this town and the gang, without whom my stay wouldn't have been half as enjoyable. As a parting shot, here is a short video (53 seconds) of couples dancing to danzon music. Marco, Crazy Su, and I had stopped for an early dinner at one of the numerous restaurants surrounding Plazuela San Francisco. Little did we know that on Friday nights, a band plays danzon music and couples dance right on the plaza, thus we unwittingly had front-row seats to the spectacle. Although Marco derided danzon as too slow and “for the old folks”, it was nevertheless a delight to experience this slice of local life. One couple in particular (featured in the clip) was quite nifty with the footwork and turns, and elicited strong applause from the numerous onlookers after each number (including yours truly :-D). Neither Mario Lopez nor Emmitt Smith has anything on this guy! The other couples weren't so dynamic and just sort of shifted their weight listlessly from one foot to another. Well, time to see and judge for yourself. (Slackers accessing the video from the workplace, please remember to check the volume level first).

The Guanajuato Gang

Part IV - Ten Day Jaunt in Mexico

This was my gang in Guanajuato which made my stay very memorable. Beside me is Ryan, his wife Lily, then Marco holding the couple's baby whose name and gender I immediately forgot, and of course Crazy Su.

Marco was waiting at the hostel when we arrived. We got introduced (I had only been in touch with him via email before the trip) and along with Crazy Su, we quickly set off to explore central Guanajuato. We were led by Marco to most of the major sights - from the Alhondiga, Mercado Hidalgo, Jardin Union, Baratillo, University of Guanajuato, and much more. He did an outstanding job in showing off his hometown, and I interrupted our tour a few times to take pictures - blown way as I was by Guanajuato's mixture of architectural styles, colorful facades of the houses including the ones on the adjacent hills (Marco's house itself was painted green), and fun, lively vibe. Although his native language was Spanish, Marco spoke passable English, actually even better than Crazy Su’s. At times our trio's communication became quite comical - I'd talk with Marco en Espanol and reprise the convo for Crazy Su's benefit, and vice-versa. Probably explains why I needed a stiff drink afterwards.

The next day, Crazy Su and I spent the entire day sightseeing. We stopped at the Museo Casa Diego Rivera, where Mexico's most famous painter was born and raised until age 6. The museum contained mostly his early works, in a variety of styles - Cubist, Pointillist, and Impressionist. The portion of the mural (see picture) shows a poor native family being denied entry to the Alameda (Central Park), while the affluent, lighter-skinned and fancy-dressed upper class exchange smirks.

Another highlight was taking the funicular up to the Momento al Pipila on the hillside which affords fantastic views of Guanajuato. Pipila ("the Turkeycock") was Guanajuato's Independence Day hero who helped overthrow the Spanish, and whose statue looks like one of the Fantastic Four. It is indeed quite an incredible view - you appear to be standing directly on top of the Jardin Union, and the Cathedral seemingly so near that just by reaching out you can touch it. Was really glad Crazy Su was around, who else would take my picture? LOL. We also climbed up a steep, narrow staircase to a point immediately behind the statue's shoulder, where the view was much worse. She was terrified of both the climb and the funicular ride, so I unmercifully teased her and had a good laugh at her expense while she clung to me for safety.

The gang met up for dinner at a pizza place with cheap Corona beer. Marco proposed going to a club afterwards, and though I was pretty tired was prevailed upon to accompany them to smooth out the communication. So we all (except Ryan and the baby) walked over to Colorado, a disco popular with young Mexicans playing mostly Norteno and cumbia music. Marco, for some reason, bought an entire case of beer (24 bottles) which the four of us obviously couldn't finish. After dancing – or rather, flailing her arms, bopping her head, and generally just hurlting about – for a few songs, Crazy Su declared that she didn't like the music at Colorado. I inquired why that was so. She said she wanted to hear English songs played and actually instructed our waiter to call the manager. Unable to resist this opening, I pointedly remarked, "Well, last time I checked we are in Mexico". In the end, Marco suggested that we head to another place, and I quickly backed up his idea. In truth, I wanted to simply disappear - due to Crazy Su's complaints and the attention her "moves" was attracting - the other dancers were stealing sideways glances at her, and after having their mouths agape for seconds would invariably turn away and cringe in horror. It wasn't hard to notice her style, or lack thereof. The only worse dancer I've ever seen was Elaine in the Seinfeld episode, "The Little Kicks". Lily, on the other hand, is very talented and possessed smooth, creative moves. Heard that she even won some salsa competition in the past.

So finally, we stepped out and walked ten minutes to the next stop, Chel-Oh's. More of the same really, except they had two jampacked dance floors, and the crowd seemed to consist mostly of teenage Mexican girls on a school clubbing field trip whom I'd have trouble believing are at least 18 years old. Same as in Colorado, the locals kept looking at Crazy Su and wondering what the hell she was up to. Inexplicably, Marco bought yet another case of beer. To this day, I have no idea what happened to the unopened bottles as I excused myself at 1:30am and flagged a cab back to the hostel. Nor did I care.

Damsel in Distress

Part II - Ten Day Jaunt in Mexico

Today's plan was to travel to Guanajuato, a five-hour bus ride away from Mexico City. One of the more picturesque and gorgeous colonial towns in Mexico, according to my Rough Guide, "Guanajuato is home to one of the country's finest Baroque churches, a thriving student life, and a relaxed cafe and bar culture". As if that wasn't enough to entice any tourist, the historic town center was declared a UNESCO World Heritage Zone in 1988. With no traffic lights and no garish neon signs, Guanajuato was recommended to me by my friend Pei, who took Spanish courses there last year and who simply insisted that I had to see it for myself.

The taxi was late of course, this being Mexico. This thought crossed my mind as I waited impatiently at Hostel Moneda for the cab to take me to the bus terminal Norte. Yes, it would have been easier to just hail one of the ubiquitous green-and-white cabs on the street, but at the risk of your safety. Every guidebook strongly advised against doing so due to unscrupulous or fake drivers looking to relieve tourists of their belongings. Taking the subway was also an option (only 20 cents!), but it involved two transfers and not something I looked forward to while weighed down with luggage..The girl at reception finally got hold of the driver who arrived 15 minutes later, and in due time I was deposited at terminal Norte.

As I boarded the Primera Plus first-class bus, the ticket checker asked me which drink I preferred, at the same time pointing to the selection laid on the table in front of him. Thinking that they were for sale, I declined. He then burst out in his best English, “It’s free!”. Pleasantly surprised, I chose the Boing! Tamarind drink, which he duly put in a plastic bag along with the free sandwich. Wow, can this get any better?. Well, in fact it could. The seats were comfy, the legroom was to die for and akin to sitting in the exit row of an airplane, the interior was very clean and airconditioned. Moreover, English movies (of questionable taste with children present) provided entertainment during the ride.

Another surprise was in store – this Korean girl I spotted at Hostel Moneda was also taking the same bus to Guanajuato. I introduced myself, found out her name was Su (let's call her "Crazy Su", an apt nickname as I found out later), exchanged some pleasantries, and told her that if she was interested we could split the cab from the Guanajuato bus terminal into downtown. She was travelling by herself for three months in Latin America, on a yet-to-be-decided itinerary, and spoke no Spanish and barely any English. Props to her for bravery.

A little later, the conductor approached Crazy Su with a grave look on his face. Indicating to a ticket stub in his hand, he explained something to her in rapid fire Spanish, only to be met by a blank stare. Su called out to me and asked, “Do you speak Spanish?”. I replied in the affirmative, and walked over to her seat to try and help out. The conductor explained to me that Crazy Su's bus ticket was expired, invalid, and thus she couldn’t go to Guanajuato!!! Simultaneously amused and shocked at the situation, I translated this to her, repeating the key parts slowly until she understood the implications. Shocked, Crazy Su looked on the verge of tears, and wondered aloud, “Why???”.

The conductor pointed out that the ticket was for the previous day (Thurs), and not for today’s (Fri) travel. As I translated back and forth and asked questions, the crux of the matter came out. Apparently, Crazy Su had bought the ticket a day in advance (Thurs), but due to her limited language skills had been unable to explain to the ticket agent (whose English no doubt was flawless) that she wanted to travel the next day (Fri), and not on the same day as most travellers usually do. To resolve the issue, the conductor explained, she had to pay an additional half-price of the original fare ($12.50 more on top of the original fare of $25). At this point, Crazy Su almost burst out crying, but in the end had no choice but to shell out, and the conductor was kind enough to accompany her to the Primera Plus ticket counter to prevent any more mix-ups.

After the brief delay, our bus departed terminal Norte, and we were on the way to Guanajuato. I could barely contain my excitement, at the same time pleased that I had saved the day. Recounting the events in my mind made me chuckle, as I sipped the Boing! tamarind drink and tried to ignore the gory movie being shown.