Tuesday in Guadalajara

So, late though I was awakening, I thought I had recovered, and was ready to take on some cultural sightseeing. I chose this hostel in part because it was right down in the middle of the old town center. And it really is.

I've already mentioned having to climb three flights of stairs so I won't say much except that going down them is not quite as difficult, but still not too easy with replacement knees.

I left the hostel about 11am and headed for the big plaza around which are many, varied government buildings. Lot's of activity in the plaza. It entertains families and company outings. At one end was a booth recruiting for the Mexican armed forces. They were giving away toaster ovens, microwaves and other appliances to the families of young people who join up. Sounds good to me. Some of you will remember when you got such things for opening a new bank account--now the bank just sticks it to you. (By the way, I'm a big fan of Credit Unions. Free checking, low interest loans--8.9% on my credit card balance. Compare to banks at 18 to 28%.)

So my camera got a lot of use. Photos inside the well-done main mayoral building, an open two-story structure. You can see the cathedral spires from inside, especially on the second floor. There is a wonderful five panel wall mural. I haven't take the time to find out the official meanings, but I interpreted it to be the story of the conquest of this area by the Spaniards. Many scenes depicting the Spanish cruelty to the indigenous populations. The center panel is the only one in color. It shows the Spanish, in all their splendor, looking down on the population. But there is a small corner scene which looks like an Indian urinating on the wall where the Spanish are standing. I'm sure that was not the official interpretation, but it fits my political and scatological mind.

Next was the cathedral. I even put my f1.8 50mm lens to use in all the darkness of the interior. (And cranked the ISO rating to 1600, for those to whom this is meaningful.) I took a few photos but in all honesty, this cathedral looks drab and colorless to one who has seen the cathedral in Mazatlan with all it's glorious gilding and stained glass windows.

By now I was again tired and dehydrated. The climate here seems to suck the water out of my body. Suddenly I found myself in front of a nice Sanborns restaurant. Not hungry, just thirsty, I got an iced tea and sat enjoying the cool rehydration of 1/2 a liter bottle and then a similar amount of plain water. Sanborn's is an interesting story. It is a Mexican chain of stores begun by two brothers who immigrated from California. The first store was in Mexico City. During the Mexican Revolution in the early 20th century (Not the war of independence from Spain) Emiliano Zapata used one of the branch stores as a gathering place. Now there is a Sanborns in almost any medium to large city, often many.

Revived, I found an ATM and got some spending money before heading back to the hostel and those three flights of stairs. A late dinner came a couple hours later and some very good pozole. (A kind of stew with hominey, this pozole had a chicken base.)

Now it is time for this very tired camper to head for bed. OMG, it's only 9pm. Tomorrow, I'm playing tourist and taking a tour of the Lake Chapala area, so I have to be ready by 8am.

TTFN (Ta Ta For Now)

Guadalajara

I have been vacationing in Mazatlan regularly for over 20 years. Yes, I occasionally go elsewhere, Tokyo, Cuernavaca, even Brazil. Last April I did take a week to visit two of my mentors in Akron, OH and in Kansas City, MO. But otherwise it's Mazatlan. I have many friends there, some Mexican, some US and Canadian expatriates, some in retirement, a few with jobs or their own enterprises. Among my closest are David Bodwell who runs Editora Mazatlan, publishing books in Spanish and English--the best popular history of Mexico, including a good history of the relationship with the US, entitled Gods, Gachupines and Gringos: A People's History of Mexico, and Martha Armenta, who owned the language school I attended and who is the patron saint of wild animals who are brought to Conrehabit, the wildlife preservation group and rehabituation clinic that she began in her grown son's abandoned bedroom, but now has a large operation just outside of Mazatlan. If you want more, go to Conrehabit

This summer I decided to go to a new place--new to me of course--Guadalajara. Guadalajara is a big city, almost 5,000,000 people, it is a bustling place of technology and industry. If you want to know more about the city you can go to Wikipedia, but since you are reading my blog, I'll, with lack of humility, assume you are interested in me.

I began yesterday morning, catching a Marin Door to Door ride to the airport at 2:30am. Couldn't sleep on the planes what with changing in LA and the only two plus hour flight then to Guadalajara. The flight was packed and I was sitting with two other folk of my own size (Extra large). The walk from the airplane to Immigration was about half the distance from LA. I was very tired by this tie. Of course the Mexican  immigration and customs folk were very polite and helpful as they always have been whenever I have visited or lived in Mexico.

One Mexican curiosity is their green light/red light approach to baggage inspection. After immigration, you pick up your bags and head for customs. If you have nothing to declare and fill out the form to say so, they let you push a button. It (seemingly) randomly chooses to show a green light or a red light. If it is a red light, you have to open your bags, but on a green light you are just waved through.

By this time, not only was I tired, but very hungry. I had eaten nothing since dinner on Sunday and it was now 2pm on Monday. But I have arrived in civilization. The airport lounge sported a Starbucks and a BurgerKing in addition to several restaurants. I choose a chicken sandwich, Mexicano; a slab of breaded chicken breast slathered with salsa on an elongated bun. That and a cup of coffee. (Mexican coffee has improved tremendously over these 20 years. In the old days, if you ordered a cup of coffee, they would bring a jar or packet of Nescafe, and some hot water.)

Rejuvenated, I went to the kiosk and bought a taxi ticket for the ride to downtown Guadalajara. (From now on I'm going to use the abbreviation, GDL or gdl. These are approved and used by Mexicans all the time.) Showing the taxista the directions I had received, he had no trouble getting me there. I got out of the taxi in front of Hostel Hospedarte, where I had a reserved single room. Most hostels these days have a few private rooms, not just dormitory style. I went in and the delightful (and quite beautiful) young woman tried to find my reservation, to no avail. I showed her the confirmation and after pondering a bit, she said, that there are two Hostel Hospedarte and the offices had sent me the wrong directions. I needed to take another cab to the correct one which was even more in the heart of the historical center.

$10 lighter, I arrived at the correct Hostel Hospedarte and entered to immediately be greeted by a three flight set of stairs, up which I had to haul my bags. This was almost enough for a full collapse. But I persevered and wound up at the top, where another very gorgeous young woman checked me in and showed me to my room. (I wonder if physical beauty is joined by the bilingualism and patience as a few among the many qualifications for the job.)

By now, it was about 4pm. After unpacking and taking a short nap, it was 7pm and I was hungry again. The clerk gave me a map and marked it with the local restaurants that served the kind of food I wanted. So I went down the stairs and started walking the block to the restaurant that served salads. Three blocks later, I found a small park, but not any restaurants. Sitting down on a park bench, I hauled out the map. I had followed her markings. Studying the map more carefully, I realized that she had marked the wrong corner for where the hostel was located. Her mark was across the street. So when I turned left, per her marks, I should have gone right.

Another four blocks--one block past the hostel--sure enough there was the restaurant. I could barely climb the one step up, but I did. The tortilla soup was excellent and was followed by a small, but delicious salad and a cup of coffee.

Now back up those stairs, but not hauling suitcase, briefcase and camera case, I sat for a while, then took a shower and plopped into a sound sleep. I set my alarm for 8am. When I awoke, it was 9:30. The alarm had not gone off. Then I realized why. The alarm was on my cell phone which still had SF time. But GDL is two hours ahead. The alarm still thought it was 7:30.

I'm still not up to a lot of effort. Decided to narrate yesterday in this blog before heading to some historic sites which are relatively nearby. Also need to change some money so I'll have to find a bank. It is 12:15 and time to get on.

On Starting a Blog

I've been thinking about writing several articles to share some of the things I've learned about life and some of those I think I've learned. I was going to put these on my own website, but that would mean having "finished" ideas to share. I'm not sure that I will ever have a finished article. Everything I know is in a constant state of flux.

Here are a few of the ideas I intend to write about.

• One of my "late in life" learnings is about the value of public, social nudity. Thirty odd years ago I took some training in using nudity in doing psychotherapy. I led several nude therapy groups and had some amazing success in helping people improve their lives. Later the therapy movement became more staid, conservative and stodgy. They also bought into the conservative idea that nudity equals sex. In order to remain a "member in good standing," I abandoned this work. That was a mistake. But there is more to nudity than therapy. Social and especially family nudity has several great benefits for the adults and for the children.

• There are a lot of fairly strange movements in the world of psychotherapy. Many of them are either not efficacious or even worse train people to be crazier. Others, in the marriage counseling arena, actually destroy marital relationships (The words "marital relationship" for me mean all forms of consensual, committed relationships of whatever gender preference.) rather than improve them.

• In the realm of spirituality, I will share my own ideas, feelings and my own apprehension of "The Sacred." The Sacred can be called by all kinds of names. . .or even None.

• As counter point, I may share what I have learned about pickling fish, the joys of motorcycle riding or photography, Mexico, Brazil or Japan.

This is a starting list. I'm a broad fellow (Physically and mentally) and don't intend to restrict either myself or anyone who cares to read.

Blessing,
David