A Million Miles Away From Home and I Can't Find a Telephone, My Folks Don't Even Know Where I Am, and I Dont Even know Where I Am

DOWN IN MEXICO

I was mere 20 miles from the Mexican border and Tijuana, it would be hard to resist paying our neighbors to the south a visit. I took advantage of the brochure I had eyed a few days before and headed to downtown San Diego to meet up with the tour group.

The guide who was taking us across the boarder, hardly had the credentials for the title of "tour guide." He was a tall ,slender, meak looking man, probably in his late 50's and had a nasty cough that sounded like he had come down with a case of TB. He was a high school teacher who just so happened to like to spend his weekends taking tourist into the most dangerous parts of Tijuana. Oddly enough he knew very little about Mexico or Tijuana, but his enthusiasm for crossing the boarder overshadowed this fact.

Their was about 15 of us making the run across the boarder. We conveniently took the trolley all the way to the pearly gates that separate the U.S. from Mexico. I was first filled with a bit of trepidation, but who wouldn't be when their entering a foreign land. The hike across the boarder started by entering from a steal bridge that could double for a cattle coral as it guides you over the highway to the doorstep of Mexico. From there we passed through a series of large turn-styles, very similar to the kind you would see in a subway, and then without warning your in. No one asks you questions or wants to look in your bag when you enter Mexico. It would seem that the US doesn't care who enters Mexico so long as they only come back through with the proper credentials and no fruit.

You then pass through a series of corridors with walls that stretch way into the air, until finally you round one last turn where your exposed before a plaza filled with all sorts of locals walking about who can smell the fresh meat and send their children running at you. In a way I would compare the transition from the U.S into Mexico like walking from a green pasture and then suddenly stepping into the world of Mad Max Beyond the Thunder Dome.

We were inundated by people shouting all sorts of things at us, and trying to get us to enter their stores. Our guide turned to us and said it was part of their custom to try and get our attention to come in and spend money. I quickly asked him if he spoke Spanish and understood what they were shouting at us. He told me no but it was most likely something flattering. Now I had been a waiter/bartender up until I left on my trip, and I worked with enough Mexicans to know the words they were yelling at us, were not flattering, but a series of obscenities.

We walked a good distance through the streets and everything seemed so depressing to me. I was in a world full of color but it had a very run down dismal feel to it. We walked a good distance before we came to a long bridge that crossed over a large viaduct. As we walked over the bridge our tour guide stopped us, and told us to not step on the long pile of shit that someone had taken on the path. Now I suppose one would think it could have come from an animal, but judging from the size, either a bear had been in the neighborhood or it was a human pile of excrement.

We continued on and ended up at a local market place. This was a real experience that I thought Mexico would be like. There were all sorts of stands set up and people selling everything and anything you can think of. Our guide let us wonder off and make our way through all the kiosk. My intense fear of Montezuma's revenge, kept me from tasting any of the food being sold, but if I was a bit braver I would have indulged in the local cuisine.

After the market we continued on heading deeper into Tijuana. As I took notice of the uneven sidewalk and the old cars that littered the street I nearly twisted my ankle as I blindly stepped off a curb that was about two feet above the street. Before long we came to this central street called Avenida Revolución. This street looked like it was built just for tourist, as it was clean and had a very strong police presence. All sorts of different types of stores littered the bustling street, although the store owners were less forceful in their approach to get you to enter.

We were once again allowed to split off and explore the area. I went immediately to work looking for a lighter that said Tijuana on it. I passed by many shops but to no avail. as I came to a cross street I saw the most extraordinary thing, the fabled zonkey.

Now our guide had mention such a creature at the beginning of our adventure but I had no idea what the hell he was talking about. So there it stood in front of me, a white donkey with black stripes. I didn't know what to make of it. Was it real? Was it just an albino donkey with painted on black stripes? I had a feeling since we were in Mexico it was most likely a donkey that had been spray painted.

Continuing on, I looked in and out of shops for my lighter, but to no avail, although I came a cross an amusing shirt that said, "I saw a donkey show." I had heard that in Tijuana you can bargain with the merchants for a good deal. I asked the man in the shop, who spoke English remarkably well, how much and he told me $20 U.S. I almost laughed out loud, this was Mexico there was no way I was going to pay $20 for a T-shirt. So I said how bout $10? He looked at me and almost laughed, and said no its $20 that's final. I was stunned and said no thanks, he looked at me like he really didn't care, because some other dumb tourist would be along shortly to pay that amount.

No lighter, no shirt, no souvenirs, no service. I went to the very end of the street and sat beneath the Millennium Arch and waited for the rest of group to walk back to the land of freedom.