Here's a link to the pictures from my trip.
http://picasaweb.google.com/Artemis4Now/MXAug2007
31 August 2007
Aug 30 – MX Trip, Heading Home
My alarm went off as scheduled at 5am. I showered, did the final packing and went down to check out. My airport ride was due at 6 so I sat in the lobby area just inside the entrance where I could see the cars pull up. Since it was the same guy and service that picked me up from the airport, I was hoping I’d recognize him.
I sat and read for 10-15 minutes and then I saw the vehicle pull up…10 minutes early. Eduardo put my bags in back and I got in the back seat. Pulling out into the street, Eduardo tried to engage me in conversation. My wits weren’t sufficiently sharp to keep up with him and I had to say, “Como?” a lot. He told me about the heavy rain storm in the night and that he hadn’t been to bed yet. He was going to drop me at the airport then go home to sleep. He said something about the earthquakes in Peru but I didn’t get much of that. He asked me about my flight route…whether I was going through Mexico City to Dallas and what my final destination was. He also asked me if I had kids and told me he had 5 or 6, he wasn’t sure, but knew that there were 3 mothers between them all. I asked their ages and he said from 16 down to 9…2 of them are 13 but I’m gathering that they aren’t twins.
After that, I think the struggle of trying to communicate became too much and we rode the rest of the way in silence.
He dropped me at the airport and I got in line to get my tickets. No automated kiosks in Guadalajara… Then I got in line for security. By the time I got to the gate area, I didn’t have a whole lot of time before departure. I had some pesos I needed to get rid of and planned to buy a T-shirt or something at one of the shops. I sort of wandered through one or two on the way to the gate but didn’t like any of the shirts and the stuff I did like was either more pesos than I had or too bulky/fragile to mess with on the plane, given I already had my 2 carry-ons.
I found the gate and decided to at least get something for the plane ride…a pop and maybe some snacks. There was a vendor near the gate area and I got a bottle of the yogurt drink that seems to be popular here (they had it at morning break every day at the office), and a packet of cookies and bottle of pop for the plane.
The actual gate was down an escalator, and there were a lot of people there. The space wasn’t much more than a hallway about the length of the escalator and it was filled with people. I asked a few people what flight they were waiting for and there were about 3 or 4 all milling around.
The system seems to be that they use the people-mover things to collect a planeload of people and take them to the plane. So they can have flights “departing” every 10 minutes or so from the same gate. 2 different flights departed before they called mine. It was very confusing, with several different flight groups milling together and there are the inevitable confused people…just about anyone who hasn’t flown that way before.
As they made the boarding announcement for my flight, they also announced that no liquids would be allowed at all. I still had my unopened Coke and, in spite of the announcement, didn’t pitch it. I figured they could confiscate it if they wanted to.
There was a single doorway that everyone went through and everyone’s carry on bags were searched. Rather perfunctorily, but still searched. They confiscated my Coke but passed me on. I got on the people-mover and out to the plane.
This plane had more people on it than the one to Guadalajara…but not by a lot. After we got up in the air and the seatbelt sign was turned off, I moved up a couple rows to an aisle seat that didn’t have anyone sitting in front of it so that I could open up my laptop and work on the tray table without the seat in front reclined into me. It was a smooth, uneventful flight.
In Dallas, immigration was a breeze and there was no line at customs. The bottleneck was security getting back to the departure gates. There was an Asian soccer team…pre-teen and teen kids…that didn’t know the drill and, of course, the signage and agents don’t speak whichever language they spoke.
The kids were all split up across the security screening stations and didn’t know they had to take their shoes and jackets off, or that they needed to keep their boarding passes with them. So they’d get up to the scanner and stopped not knowing why. Finally, someone decided that the whole team should go through together where there was an adult who could interface between them and the English-speaking security people. That opened up most of the lines and people started moving through again.
Sometimes, I swear they make these airport procedures as convoluted and inefficient as they can. All in the name of “national security”, I know, but it’s such a joke. People lie and hide things and stuff gets through anyway and all it does is snarl things up.
Anyway, I got through and went to the posted gate. I bought a hugely overpriced sandwich and pop for lunch then sat down with my book to wait the couple hours until my flight.
I finished my book and used the restroom then looked at my watch and wondered at the boarding status of my gate. Given my flight’s departure time, there was no way it was going to happen at this gate. So I went to check the monitors. Sure enough, my flight had been moved to another gate so I got on the Skytrain and went to the station for that section of gates. I had time…not tons of time, but enough so that I was in no danger of missing the flight. Good thing my book hadn’t been 20 pages longer…
Shortly after I got there, they made an announcement that the plane taking us to Des Moines was late in arriving and now wasn’t expected to get there until after our scheduled departure time…our new departure time was about a half hour later.
That happened pretty much on time, we boarded and then we sat on the tarmac for a while. All the lights and air went off for a bit and it started to get stuffy in the plane and thought to myself, “Something’s up here…”
Sure enough, the pilot came on a little later to say that there was a problem in the collision avoidance computer and they had to “reboot the plane.” Then he came back on and said that after the boot, one system was still showing as non-functional and they had to get a maintenance team out to look at it. He went on at some length about our being able to fly anyway but they’d have to file some paperwork and get it in the log and satisfy the procedures.
All in all, we ended up rolling down the runway for takeoff at the time we were supposed to have been landing in Des Moines. Alan was picking me up and I knew it would play havoc with his schedule. He’d already had t rearrange things to get the kids picked up at school for my original arrival time. This was going to mess up his soccer practice time to both get the kids there and coach. But I know he’ll watch the flight progress via the internet and deal with it. Nothing I can do from mid-air.
We touched down in Des Moines around 5pm and Alan was there to meet me with his special, fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies…what has become our pick-up-Sue-at-the-airport tradition.
This trip home hadn’t been as long or arduous as the trip home from Egypt, but I felt every bit as fried. I am so ready to be home for a while!
I sat and read for 10-15 minutes and then I saw the vehicle pull up…10 minutes early. Eduardo put my bags in back and I got in the back seat. Pulling out into the street, Eduardo tried to engage me in conversation. My wits weren’t sufficiently sharp to keep up with him and I had to say, “Como?” a lot. He told me about the heavy rain storm in the night and that he hadn’t been to bed yet. He was going to drop me at the airport then go home to sleep. He said something about the earthquakes in Peru but I didn’t get much of that. He asked me about my flight route…whether I was going through Mexico City to Dallas and what my final destination was. He also asked me if I had kids and told me he had 5 or 6, he wasn’t sure, but knew that there were 3 mothers between them all. I asked their ages and he said from 16 down to 9…2 of them are 13 but I’m gathering that they aren’t twins.
After that, I think the struggle of trying to communicate became too much and we rode the rest of the way in silence.
He dropped me at the airport and I got in line to get my tickets. No automated kiosks in Guadalajara… Then I got in line for security. By the time I got to the gate area, I didn’t have a whole lot of time before departure. I had some pesos I needed to get rid of and planned to buy a T-shirt or something at one of the shops. I sort of wandered through one or two on the way to the gate but didn’t like any of the shirts and the stuff I did like was either more pesos than I had or too bulky/fragile to mess with on the plane, given I already had my 2 carry-ons.
I found the gate and decided to at least get something for the plane ride…a pop and maybe some snacks. There was a vendor near the gate area and I got a bottle of the yogurt drink that seems to be popular here (they had it at morning break every day at the office), and a packet of cookies and bottle of pop for the plane.
The actual gate was down an escalator, and there were a lot of people there. The space wasn’t much more than a hallway about the length of the escalator and it was filled with people. I asked a few people what flight they were waiting for and there were about 3 or 4 all milling around.
The system seems to be that they use the people-mover things to collect a planeload of people and take them to the plane. So they can have flights “departing” every 10 minutes or so from the same gate. 2 different flights departed before they called mine. It was very confusing, with several different flight groups milling together and there are the inevitable confused people…just about anyone who hasn’t flown that way before.
As they made the boarding announcement for my flight, they also announced that no liquids would be allowed at all. I still had my unopened Coke and, in spite of the announcement, didn’t pitch it. I figured they could confiscate it if they wanted to.
There was a single doorway that everyone went through and everyone’s carry on bags were searched. Rather perfunctorily, but still searched. They confiscated my Coke but passed me on. I got on the people-mover and out to the plane.
This plane had more people on it than the one to Guadalajara…but not by a lot. After we got up in the air and the seatbelt sign was turned off, I moved up a couple rows to an aisle seat that didn’t have anyone sitting in front of it so that I could open up my laptop and work on the tray table without the seat in front reclined into me. It was a smooth, uneventful flight.
In Dallas, immigration was a breeze and there was no line at customs. The bottleneck was security getting back to the departure gates. There was an Asian soccer team…pre-teen and teen kids…that didn’t know the drill and, of course, the signage and agents don’t speak whichever language they spoke.
The kids were all split up across the security screening stations and didn’t know they had to take their shoes and jackets off, or that they needed to keep their boarding passes with them. So they’d get up to the scanner and stopped not knowing why. Finally, someone decided that the whole team should go through together where there was an adult who could interface between them and the English-speaking security people. That opened up most of the lines and people started moving through again.
Sometimes, I swear they make these airport procedures as convoluted and inefficient as they can. All in the name of “national security”, I know, but it’s such a joke. People lie and hide things and stuff gets through anyway and all it does is snarl things up.
Anyway, I got through and went to the posted gate. I bought a hugely overpriced sandwich and pop for lunch then sat down with my book to wait the couple hours until my flight.
I finished my book and used the restroom then looked at my watch and wondered at the boarding status of my gate. Given my flight’s departure time, there was no way it was going to happen at this gate. So I went to check the monitors. Sure enough, my flight had been moved to another gate so I got on the Skytrain and went to the station for that section of gates. I had time…not tons of time, but enough so that I was in no danger of missing the flight. Good thing my book hadn’t been 20 pages longer…
Shortly after I got there, they made an announcement that the plane taking us to Des Moines was late in arriving and now wasn’t expected to get there until after our scheduled departure time…our new departure time was about a half hour later.
That happened pretty much on time, we boarded and then we sat on the tarmac for a while. All the lights and air went off for a bit and it started to get stuffy in the plane and thought to myself, “Something’s up here…”
Sure enough, the pilot came on a little later to say that there was a problem in the collision avoidance computer and they had to “reboot the plane.” Then he came back on and said that after the boot, one system was still showing as non-functional and they had to get a maintenance team out to look at it. He went on at some length about our being able to fly anyway but they’d have to file some paperwork and get it in the log and satisfy the procedures.
All in all, we ended up rolling down the runway for takeoff at the time we were supposed to have been landing in Des Moines. Alan was picking me up and I knew it would play havoc with his schedule. He’d already had t rearrange things to get the kids picked up at school for my original arrival time. This was going to mess up his soccer practice time to both get the kids there and coach. But I know he’ll watch the flight progress via the internet and deal with it. Nothing I can do from mid-air.
We touched down in Des Moines around 5pm and Alan was there to meet me with his special, fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies…what has become our pick-up-Sue-at-the-airport tradition.
This trip home hadn’t been as long or arduous as the trip home from Egypt, but I felt every bit as fried. I am so ready to be home for a while!
Aug 29 – MX Training, The Final Day
I didn’t get down to the restaurant at 7, as on previous days. I haven’t been eating breakfast, only drinking tea, and it ends up being a long time to sit while conversation flows around me. I certainly don’t expect everyone to speak English just for my benefit, especially since several of them don’t speak English at all. I’m comfortable wandering in my own thoughts but it seems rude in company.
I joined them mid-meal and then we all trouped off to the office for our final day of training.
The training morning was pretty much like the others. The only unique event was that an alarm went off mid-morning and we all had to leave the building to gather at the “punto de reunion” in the parking lot.
We all stood around, chatting or making cell phone calls, until someone official made the announcement that it was a false alarm … someone had opened a restricted door… and we could all re-enter the building.
Mark explained later that there was only one alarm. Usually, when the alarm goes off, it’s because someone either inadvertently leaned against the wrong door or…so whether it was a fire or someone opening the wrong door or forgot to use a keycard or code first. But since the same alarm is used for fire, everyone has to leave the building until it’s confirmed.
We finished up the class agenda and broke for a late-ish lunch. I gathered everyone for a class picture in front of one of the biggest stained glass windows in the building. It made a nice backdrop.
After lunch (paella) we did a final wrap up and they gave me a bag of Pioneer logoed items along with their thanks. Then, about 3:30 we packed up and left for a plot tour.
We drove to the research station just outside of Guadalajara and Víctor and Cesar were our tour guides. They were getting it ready for demos they’d have in the next couple of weeks. Friday was going to be for employees and staff as a kind of preview. Then, in a week or so, they’ll have about 1500 dealers and sales reps in to tour the plots.
Being agronomists, all, they got into many discussions about how this product was doing, disease or insect damage, etc. The only thing I noticed was that the corn plants seemed to be a lot taller than I remember them in Iowa.
At one point, I was walking around the end of one plot…not on the tour path…and saw some small animal scurry from the corn to the weeds along the fence. I didn’t catch a really good look at it and waited a bit to see if it would run out of the weeds and cross the dirt track that bordered the field. It didn’t. So I gave up and went back where the trucks and people were.
In the van on the way back to the office, I turned toward the seat behind me and asked Víctor if he knew what a “mink” was. He said yes, in a puzzled sort of way…I’m sure the question came out of nowhere. Then I asked him if there were mink around here; he said, “No.” So I explained about the animal…something fast and long and low to the ground… I’d seen and asked him what it might have been.
He and Cesar (the driver) had a discussion about it…Cesar voted for ardillo, which didn’t mean anything to me until he said, “Como Alvin.” Ah! Chipmunk. I said I didn’t think it was a chipmunk…it was a foot long and solid dark gray, no stripes. He said there are chipmunks like that in Mexico. It moved like a ground squirrel, just larger than the ones at home so maybe it was something like that.
When we got back to the office, it was about 6:30 and there was a soccer game going behind the warehouse building. The back part of the facility is a recreational area with a basketball court, undersized soccer field, playground area and a covered space that has tables, chairs and some kitchen amenities.
We wandered that way to watch a little of the Research Station staff versus the Commercial Office staff. I couldn’t tell the teams apart…no one was wearing uniforms. Some of the guys looked like they’d just come in from the field with dusty jeans and tennies. There were a couple of guys who had actual soccer gear…the colorful synthetic shirt, shorts, shoes with cleats, and shin guards. But mostly, it was just guys getting together for a pick-up sort of game.
We watched a few minutes then went to the office building to collect our stuff and head out to supper. We were headed to a mariachi restaurant for typical Mexican food and one of the classic icons of the country.
I rode with Cesar, Juan rode with Lule and Víctor drove by himself. Mark had left from the plot with Géronimo and Emilio to take them to the airport and would join us later.
That time of day, traffic was bad and it took us almost an hour to get there. About that time it had started to rain, which then turned into a complete downpour. By the time we got to the restaurant, there was an amazing amount of water coming down.
Most places, at least the nicer ones, have valet parking. You don’t park your own car because then they can double- and triple-park vehicles in a small space and can always move whatever needs moving. Besides, they get tips for doing it so it’s another way for people to make money.
This place was no exception. We pulled up to the entrance and a guy came out with a huge umbrella, like you’d see over a patio table, and covered my door while I got out then walked me to the entrance under its shelter. Then, he went back for Cesar. Víctor was right behind us so as soon as we were under cover, the guy went back for him. Service!
We entered the restaurant and got a table near, but not next to, the stage area. Currently, there was only Mexican music playing over the loudspeakers and a soccer game on video. The real show, the mariachis and folklorico dancers starts at 11.
I had a margarita, the guys had beer or tequila with sangrita (a blend of tomato and other juices that’s served in a shot glass beside the straight tequila). We sat and sipped and chatted, all the while the rain was pounding down outside with occasional crashes of thunder. Eventually, Cesar ordered for us. We all got Aztec style tortilla soup to start and then the main course, served family style in the middle of the table.
The waiter put down a wooden platter with a stone, 3-legged bowl on it. The stone bowl was very hot and the contents bubbled and boiled for quite a while. Inside the bowl was a type of salsa…tomatoes, onions, etc…with strips of beef, a couple of soft-cooked cactus parts (paddles? leaves?), a radish and a piece of panela (local cheese) on top. It was very tasty and, contrary to my experiences with beef in Central America, the meat was tender and flavorful.
We finished eating and Mark still hadn’t arrived. Cesar had called him on his cell phone and said that he’d gotten stuck in traffic but was on the way. We’d eaten the 2 bowls we’d ordered so Víctor ordered another for him, Juan and Lule to have more and leave some for Mark.
Mark finally arrived. There are several tunnels on that main street that he had to travel and he said when it rains hard, they flood. We’d made it through before the rain really started but he got caught in it so the road was closed and all traffic was routed another way. Man, I hope it’s not raining tomorrow when I need to go to the airport…
I got back to the hotel a little before 10 and packed up my stuff for the journey home. The students had given me a shirt, a couple of caps, a self-storing raincoat and some other things…I had to find space for them.
By the time I was done with that, I set my alarm and fell into bed.
I joined them mid-meal and then we all trouped off to the office for our final day of training.
The training morning was pretty much like the others. The only unique event was that an alarm went off mid-morning and we all had to leave the building to gather at the “punto de reunion” in the parking lot.
We all stood around, chatting or making cell phone calls, until someone official made the announcement that it was a false alarm … someone had opened a restricted door… and we could all re-enter the building.
Mark explained later that there was only one alarm. Usually, when the alarm goes off, it’s because someone either inadvertently leaned against the wrong door or…so whether it was a fire or someone opening the wrong door or forgot to use a keycard or code first. But since the same alarm is used for fire, everyone has to leave the building until it’s confirmed.
We finished up the class agenda and broke for a late-ish lunch. I gathered everyone for a class picture in front of one of the biggest stained glass windows in the building. It made a nice backdrop.
After lunch (paella) we did a final wrap up and they gave me a bag of Pioneer logoed items along with their thanks. Then, about 3:30 we packed up and left for a plot tour.
We drove to the research station just outside of Guadalajara and Víctor and Cesar were our tour guides. They were getting it ready for demos they’d have in the next couple of weeks. Friday was going to be for employees and staff as a kind of preview. Then, in a week or so, they’ll have about 1500 dealers and sales reps in to tour the plots.
Being agronomists, all, they got into many discussions about how this product was doing, disease or insect damage, etc. The only thing I noticed was that the corn plants seemed to be a lot taller than I remember them in Iowa.
At one point, I was walking around the end of one plot…not on the tour path…and saw some small animal scurry from the corn to the weeds along the fence. I didn’t catch a really good look at it and waited a bit to see if it would run out of the weeds and cross the dirt track that bordered the field. It didn’t. So I gave up and went back where the trucks and people were.
In the van on the way back to the office, I turned toward the seat behind me and asked Víctor if he knew what a “mink” was. He said yes, in a puzzled sort of way…I’m sure the question came out of nowhere. Then I asked him if there were mink around here; he said, “No.” So I explained about the animal…something fast and long and low to the ground… I’d seen and asked him what it might have been.
He and Cesar (the driver) had a discussion about it…Cesar voted for ardillo, which didn’t mean anything to me until he said, “Como Alvin.” Ah! Chipmunk. I said I didn’t think it was a chipmunk…it was a foot long and solid dark gray, no stripes. He said there are chipmunks like that in Mexico. It moved like a ground squirrel, just larger than the ones at home so maybe it was something like that.
When we got back to the office, it was about 6:30 and there was a soccer game going behind the warehouse building. The back part of the facility is a recreational area with a basketball court, undersized soccer field, playground area and a covered space that has tables, chairs and some kitchen amenities.
We wandered that way to watch a little of the Research Station staff versus the Commercial Office staff. I couldn’t tell the teams apart…no one was wearing uniforms. Some of the guys looked like they’d just come in from the field with dusty jeans and tennies. There were a couple of guys who had actual soccer gear…the colorful synthetic shirt, shorts, shoes with cleats, and shin guards. But mostly, it was just guys getting together for a pick-up sort of game.
We watched a few minutes then went to the office building to collect our stuff and head out to supper. We were headed to a mariachi restaurant for typical Mexican food and one of the classic icons of the country.
I rode with Cesar, Juan rode with Lule and Víctor drove by himself. Mark had left from the plot with Géronimo and Emilio to take them to the airport and would join us later.
That time of day, traffic was bad and it took us almost an hour to get there. About that time it had started to rain, which then turned into a complete downpour. By the time we got to the restaurant, there was an amazing amount of water coming down.
Most places, at least the nicer ones, have valet parking. You don’t park your own car because then they can double- and triple-park vehicles in a small space and can always move whatever needs moving. Besides, they get tips for doing it so it’s another way for people to make money.
This place was no exception. We pulled up to the entrance and a guy came out with a huge umbrella, like you’d see over a patio table, and covered my door while I got out then walked me to the entrance under its shelter. Then, he went back for Cesar. Víctor was right behind us so as soon as we were under cover, the guy went back for him. Service!
We entered the restaurant and got a table near, but not next to, the stage area. Currently, there was only Mexican music playing over the loudspeakers and a soccer game on video. The real show, the mariachis and folklorico dancers starts at 11.
I had a margarita, the guys had beer or tequila with sangrita (a blend of tomato and other juices that’s served in a shot glass beside the straight tequila). We sat and sipped and chatted, all the while the rain was pounding down outside with occasional crashes of thunder. Eventually, Cesar ordered for us. We all got Aztec style tortilla soup to start and then the main course, served family style in the middle of the table.
The waiter put down a wooden platter with a stone, 3-legged bowl on it. The stone bowl was very hot and the contents bubbled and boiled for quite a while. Inside the bowl was a type of salsa…tomatoes, onions, etc…with strips of beef, a couple of soft-cooked cactus parts (paddles? leaves?), a radish and a piece of panela (local cheese) on top. It was very tasty and, contrary to my experiences with beef in Central America, the meat was tender and flavorful.
We finished eating and Mark still hadn’t arrived. Cesar had called him on his cell phone and said that he’d gotten stuck in traffic but was on the way. We’d eaten the 2 bowls we’d ordered so Víctor ordered another for him, Juan and Lule to have more and leave some for Mark.
Mark finally arrived. There are several tunnels on that main street that he had to travel and he said when it rains hard, they flood. We’d made it through before the rain really started but he got caught in it so the road was closed and all traffic was routed another way. Man, I hope it’s not raining tomorrow when I need to go to the airport…
I got back to the hotel a little before 10 and packed up my stuff for the journey home. The students had given me a shirt, a couple of caps, a self-storing raincoat and some other things…I had to find space for them.
By the time I was done with that, I set my alarm and fell into bed.
Aug 28 – MX Training, Day 2
Another day of training…just another day. It went on a little long, though. It was about 6:30 before we left the office. By then, Alfredo and Poncho went for a run, Cesar and Víctor needed to meet about something and some others had something else to do so we decided it would be a supper-on-your-own evening.
Mark dropped me at my hotel and I decided I’d had way too much eating and sitting (the Achilles heel of travel…) so I changed clothes, put on my tennies and hit the street to walk to a mall about 3 blocks from the hotel.
It took me all of about 7 minutes to walk there. The only part that made me nervous was crossing the streets. Ever since I was hit by a car while crossing a street as a kid, it’s not something I can do calmly. However, Central American streets really make my heart pound and palms sweat.
The traffic is heavy and fast and there is no such thing as “pedestrian right of way”…you take your life in your hands when you step off the curb. Luckily, on this particular walk, all the streets I had to cross myself were relatively small. They still made me very nervous, but I could get across them.
However, the street I was walking along is one of the major streets that crosses Guadalajara…8 lanes of speeding steel. And the mall is on the opposite side from the hotel, so I knew I’d have to cross it. I figured I’d cross that bridge (so to speak) when I got to it.
Fortune smiled on me! When I got to the mall, there was a pedestrian bridge across the street connecting bus stops on both sides. That was about the only way I could cross that street on foot without a panic attack!
I entered the mall and turned “mall walker”…walking fast and not stopping to look in any of the stores or windows. There wasn’t that much I would have been interested in anyway. There were a LOT of shoe stores, almost as many clothing stores and a smattering of jewelry or nutrition shops.
The one store I did stop in was Gigante…a sort of mini WalMart. They had some packaged food, some produce, some office supplies, some electronics, some clothing, etc. I stopped in because it occurred to me on the way into the mall that, much as I appreciated having some dried apricots and snacks for the flight on the way down, I was probably going to need the same on the way back. I thought this would be a good opportunity to pick up some things like that. Besides, I had some pesos to get rid of.
I wandered through all the food aisles…just checking out what kinds of things they had and what they cost. I picked up a few things for supper and some bran-fruit bars, nuts, etc for the trip home.
By the time I left the store, it had started to get dark. I’d intended to be on my way back to the hotel before then, but I miscalculated dusk. It wasn’t full dark and it wasn’t far to the hotel. No problem.
I spent the rest of the evening pretty much reading and went to bed at a reasonable hour.
Mark dropped me at my hotel and I decided I’d had way too much eating and sitting (the Achilles heel of travel…) so I changed clothes, put on my tennies and hit the street to walk to a mall about 3 blocks from the hotel.
It took me all of about 7 minutes to walk there. The only part that made me nervous was crossing the streets. Ever since I was hit by a car while crossing a street as a kid, it’s not something I can do calmly. However, Central American streets really make my heart pound and palms sweat.
The traffic is heavy and fast and there is no such thing as “pedestrian right of way”…you take your life in your hands when you step off the curb. Luckily, on this particular walk, all the streets I had to cross myself were relatively small. They still made me very nervous, but I could get across them.
However, the street I was walking along is one of the major streets that crosses Guadalajara…8 lanes of speeding steel. And the mall is on the opposite side from the hotel, so I knew I’d have to cross it. I figured I’d cross that bridge (so to speak) when I got to it.
Fortune smiled on me! When I got to the mall, there was a pedestrian bridge across the street connecting bus stops on both sides. That was about the only way I could cross that street on foot without a panic attack!
I entered the mall and turned “mall walker”…walking fast and not stopping to look in any of the stores or windows. There wasn’t that much I would have been interested in anyway. There were a LOT of shoe stores, almost as many clothing stores and a smattering of jewelry or nutrition shops.
The one store I did stop in was Gigante…a sort of mini WalMart. They had some packaged food, some produce, some office supplies, some electronics, some clothing, etc. I stopped in because it occurred to me on the way into the mall that, much as I appreciated having some dried apricots and snacks for the flight on the way down, I was probably going to need the same on the way back. I thought this would be a good opportunity to pick up some things like that. Besides, I had some pesos to get rid of.
I wandered through all the food aisles…just checking out what kinds of things they had and what they cost. I picked up a few things for supper and some bran-fruit bars, nuts, etc for the trip home.
By the time I left the store, it had started to get dark. I’d intended to be on my way back to the hotel before then, but I miscalculated dusk. It wasn’t full dark and it wasn’t far to the hotel. No problem.
I spent the rest of the evening pretty much reading and went to bed at a reasonable hour.
28 August 2007
Aug 27 – MX Training, Day 1
All the students gathered at the hotel restaurant at 7am for breakfast. That’s where I met the rest of them. I wasn’t really hungry but I had some papaya, watermelon and some sort of granola stuff with yogurt. All told, it didn’t amount to but a small bowl. I also had several cups of tea to get my caffeine kick going. My thinking was that if MX was like the Central American countries I’d been to, there would be no tea available at the office. It’s coffee country.
We got into vehicles and headed to the office. It was about a 25 minute drive from the hotel. I asked Mark (driving the vehicle I was in) why they don’t use a hotel closer to the office. Usually, when I’ve gone to other locations they pick a place that’s convenient for the office. Mark said that there were hotels near the office but…um…they charge by the hour…and he didn’t think that would be a good place for us to stay.
The part of town we drove through getting there was definitely not as upscale as the other parts I’d seen. Some of it looked kind of seedy. It was an eclectic mix, en route…we passed a Walmart and a little further down was a lot that had cows and goats on it.
The office may not be in the nicest neighborhood but it’s a really nice facility. Mark said it was built back when the MX operation was flush and doing very well. The outside has tiled sidewalks and an adobe façade with a fountain outside the entrance. Inside, it’s all stained glass windows and cerulean tile. Even the warehouse and cold storage facility is upscale.
Mark walked us around the building, pointing out the break room, bathrooms, reception and the conference room where we’ll have class. It was probably 8:30 or quarter to 9 by the time everyone got collected and set up.
It was a very challenging class. There were 10 students, 2 of them from Venezuela, the rest scattered across Mexico and Central America…3 of the students had never used the program before, 2 of them speak little or no English (one of those neither speaks nor reads a word of it), one of them is translator for the group.
Somehow, we got through the day, pretty much on schedule.
In the car on the way to the restaurant after class, I was trying to converse with Géronimo. He’s the one who speaks no English. I asked him how the class was going for him. He said he thought it was good but the language issue is a big problem. Not just for the class…none of the documentation I provided does him any good and since the program itself is all in English, he’s really working at a disadvantage.
Mark said he thought the class was going well, but he was really kicking himself for not getting some training from me while he was still in the U.S. He said, if he’d realized how complicated the program is, he definitely would have.
I didn’t get a chance to check with the other students. There’s still a couple days left, though…
We left the office about 6 and went straight to Los Arcos…a seafood restaurant in the Mexican style typical of the northwest coast. It was a colorful restaurant with a plethora of waiters all dressed in white with either white or blue vest/aprons.
Cesar and Mark had been here many times before and I was happy to turn the ordering over to them. Cesar did most of it. We didn’t really order a ‘meal’…what we got was lots of plates of appetizer sorts of things that the whole table shared. There was a shrimp salsa sort of thing…it sounds kind of weird but it was diced shrimp with lime juice, diced onion, and cilantro. Basically, like fresh salsa only with shrimp instead of tomato.
There were shrimp tacos and marlin tacos, grilled shrimp, grilled octopus and ‘cucarachas’…which Mark explained was not really cucarachas, it was a type of shrimp. I faked exaggerated disappointment at not being able to sample authentic cucarachas.
It was all the best seafood I’ve ever had in my life!
I also had a glass of wine from the Baja region of Mexico…a cabernet sauvignon that was very good. After the meal, a number of people sampled the region’s tequila but I’d had enough. Maybe tomorrow.
When he brought the bill, the waiter also delivered a red rose to me and little glasses of the house specialty drink…some sort of coffee liqueur with milk and chili powder sprinkled on top. It wasn’t bad.
Some of the others thought we were going out to eat way too early, and we did have the restaurant almost completely to ourselves. But I was personally glad to get back to the hotel at a reasonable hour and have some time to decompress before crashing.
Especially since I’d been up since 4am… don’t ask me why. All I know is I woke up then and couldn’t get back to sleep. At breakfast, Cesar asked me if I’d heard the huge storm in the night…it hit about the time I woke up. Maybe a big crack of thunder woke me up but didn’t register…all I know is I had no idea it had even rained.
We got into vehicles and headed to the office. It was about a 25 minute drive from the hotel. I asked Mark (driving the vehicle I was in) why they don’t use a hotel closer to the office. Usually, when I’ve gone to other locations they pick a place that’s convenient for the office. Mark said that there were hotels near the office but…um…they charge by the hour…and he didn’t think that would be a good place for us to stay.
The part of town we drove through getting there was definitely not as upscale as the other parts I’d seen. Some of it looked kind of seedy. It was an eclectic mix, en route…we passed a Walmart and a little further down was a lot that had cows and goats on it.
The office may not be in the nicest neighborhood but it’s a really nice facility. Mark said it was built back when the MX operation was flush and doing very well. The outside has tiled sidewalks and an adobe façade with a fountain outside the entrance. Inside, it’s all stained glass windows and cerulean tile. Even the warehouse and cold storage facility is upscale.
Mark walked us around the building, pointing out the break room, bathrooms, reception and the conference room where we’ll have class. It was probably 8:30 or quarter to 9 by the time everyone got collected and set up.
It was a very challenging class. There were 10 students, 2 of them from Venezuela, the rest scattered across Mexico and Central America…3 of the students had never used the program before, 2 of them speak little or no English (one of those neither speaks nor reads a word of it), one of them is translator for the group.
Somehow, we got through the day, pretty much on schedule.
In the car on the way to the restaurant after class, I was trying to converse with Géronimo. He’s the one who speaks no English. I asked him how the class was going for him. He said he thought it was good but the language issue is a big problem. Not just for the class…none of the documentation I provided does him any good and since the program itself is all in English, he’s really working at a disadvantage.
Mark said he thought the class was going well, but he was really kicking himself for not getting some training from me while he was still in the U.S. He said, if he’d realized how complicated the program is, he definitely would have.
I didn’t get a chance to check with the other students. There’s still a couple days left, though…
We left the office about 6 and went straight to Los Arcos…a seafood restaurant in the Mexican style typical of the northwest coast. It was a colorful restaurant with a plethora of waiters all dressed in white with either white or blue vest/aprons.
Cesar and Mark had been here many times before and I was happy to turn the ordering over to them. Cesar did most of it. We didn’t really order a ‘meal’…what we got was lots of plates of appetizer sorts of things that the whole table shared. There was a shrimp salsa sort of thing…it sounds kind of weird but it was diced shrimp with lime juice, diced onion, and cilantro. Basically, like fresh salsa only with shrimp instead of tomato.
There were shrimp tacos and marlin tacos, grilled shrimp, grilled octopus and ‘cucarachas’…which Mark explained was not really cucarachas, it was a type of shrimp. I faked exaggerated disappointment at not being able to sample authentic cucarachas.
It was all the best seafood I’ve ever had in my life!
I also had a glass of wine from the Baja region of Mexico…a cabernet sauvignon that was very good. After the meal, a number of people sampled the region’s tequila but I’d had enough. Maybe tomorrow.
When he brought the bill, the waiter also delivered a red rose to me and little glasses of the house specialty drink…some sort of coffee liqueur with milk and chili powder sprinkled on top. It wasn’t bad.
Some of the others thought we were going out to eat way too early, and we did have the restaurant almost completely to ourselves. But I was personally glad to get back to the hotel at a reasonable hour and have some time to decompress before crashing.
Especially since I’d been up since 4am… don’t ask me why. All I know is I woke up then and couldn’t get back to sleep. At breakfast, Cesar asked me if I’d heard the huge storm in the night…it hit about the time I woke up. Maybe a big crack of thunder woke me up but didn’t register…all I know is I had no idea it had even rained.
27 August 2007
Aug 26 – Touring G-town
I woke up around 8 and decided that was as good a time as any to get up. I wasn’t really hungry or wanting breakfast but I was very thirsty and had a headache. The hotel provides 2 bottles of drinking water and a sign that says the tap water is not 100% safe to drink. Unfortunately, I drank both bottles last night…before I remembered that I still needed to brush my teeth. I brushed without water but I need to take the travelers medication I got from my doc.
But first…I needed pesos.
I went to the desk to ask about an ATM and was told there is one about a half-block up on the other side of the street, near the Ibis Hotel. She said it was on the street, which made me a little nervous but I thought I’d check it out.
Outside, it was a very gray, dismal-looking sort of day. There were heavy clouds off to one direction. Luckily, I had a poncho with me, if it came to that.
I found the Ibis and the ATM. It was one of those ATMs in a glass room with a door. You use your card to open the door and then it locks behind you to keep anyone else from getting in while you’re using the machine.
I got some cash, left the room and continued on down the block to find the Hilton Hotel, where the tour bus pickup is. I found the hotel (only about 2 blocks from my hotel) and asked a bellboy where the tour bus pickup was. He said it was down below (on the sidewalk) but it doesn’t come until 10:00.
I didn’t understand that until later, though. I thought he said it would be 10 minutes. So I went into the hotel’s gift shop to get a bottle of water and some chapstick with sunscreen. I took my pill and then waited down below for a bit. While I was waiting, I perused the brochure I got at my hotel and in reading the fine print, realized that the tours don’t start until 10am…which is when I “got” what the bellboy tried to tell me.
As it wasn’t even 9 yet, I headed back to the hotel. I stopped at an Oxxo (convenience store sort of place) and got a bottle of pop and a granola bar. I still had my headache and figured the caffeine would help.
Back at the room, I took some acetaminophen with the Coke and read until a little after 9:30 when I headed back to the Hilton. While I’d been in my room, the day had brightened considerably. It was actually sunny and very pleasant.
I got on the double-decker tour bus when it arrived, along with a few other people. I took a seat on the open, top level. I was really glad I’d packed a hat this time and had gotten the lip balm with sunscreen.
When you get on the bus, they give you a pair of earbud headphones. You plug them into the jack in front of you and select your language. That’s how you get the audio for the tour.
The voice doing the narration in English sounded so familiar…I couldn’t quite place it but it was a man with a southern accent…I think it’s one of the guys I hear all the time on NPR’s Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me show on Saturday’s at home…not Tom Bodet, the other southern guy…but I can’t think of his name.
The tour solved one mystery for me. Every time I’d been outside, I’d smelled something that reminded me of the bean processing plant in Des Moines. This smell was similar but not exactly like that. Still, it made me think of processing grain. While on the tour, the smell kept getting stronger…until we passed the Corona beer factory. Mystery solved!
The state of Jalisco, where Guadalajara is, is also the home of José Cuervo tequila. There are a number of tours that will take you to Tequila (hence, the name of the liquor) and show you how tequila is made from the blue agave plant. Originally, it was fermented like wine but now it is distilled.
The world also has Guadalajara to thank for mariachi bands. They originated here and eventually became a cultural symbol for all Mexico.
While riding around town on the tour bus, I noticed some curious things…
I saw a lot of traffic lights that had 2 red lights. I never saw them working independently of each other and not all lights had the double-reds. I didn’t know why. The only thing I could think was that it would certainly make it easier for people who are red-green color blind…even coming up on the lights in the dark, you could easily and immediately tell the red from the green. But that can’t be why…there just aren’t that many color-blind people and not all the lights had them. (Later, Cesar told me it’s where there are two sets of lanes, there’s a stop light for each of them…it functions sort of like a left-turn light except that’s not exactly it.)
Here, the traffic signal color pattern is the same as in the States, too…unlike Switzerland where the yellow comes after the red instead of after the green.
We passed a number of gas stations along the way. None of them post the price of gas so you can see it from the street. However I asked Cesar later and he told me it’s 7 pesos per liter (or, about $2.50 per gallon).
They use the $ symbol for pesos. So I kind of have to do a double-take when I see things like a bottle of pop for $7.50. Or the 2-hour bus tour for $110. They’re actually more like 68 cents and $10 (US) respectively.
The tour bus dropped me back at the Hilton at about 11:40 so I was back in plenty of time to meet Cesar for lunch and the afternoon touring.
I met him at the hotel entrance and he introduced me to his wife, Hilda, and their son, Alonzo (2½). He told me we were waiting a few more minutes for one of the other guys who would be one of my students in the coming week. He (Víctor) arrived a couple minutes later and we loaded up in Cesar’s car.
He took us to a restaurant on the Minerva roundabout…El Abajeño. We got a table streetside and watched the fountain and traffic go by. I had enmolado con pollo (an enchilada sort of thing with mole sauce on it) and Cesar ordered (for the table) some quesadillas with ham, cheese, mushrooms and onion in it. Also chips, guacamole and a plate of a traditional, local cheese. It was all really good.
When the waiter brought the food, he put down a bowl of red sauce and told me it was very hot…be very careful. So I very gingerly tried it with a chip. I didn’t think it was so hot. In fact, I ended up using quite a bit of in on my lunch. It had a certain spiciness to it but not really much heat…and I’m not a huge fan of pepper-hot food.
After lunch, we went to the market at San Juan de Dios. It’s a huge market that covers 3 levels and has warrens of aisles with shops on all sides. The center is an open courtyard sort of space where people congregate and socialize.
I wasn’t really looking for anything in particular…I just like to see what the local handicrafts are like and the sorts of things people sell. There was a lot of pottery and leather work, some woven basket type things, some stone carving.
Most of the bottom level around the courtyard was food and produce. I wanted to take a stroll past the produce just to see how much of it I recognized.
Most of it was pretty familiar…apples, pears, cantaloupe, watermelon, bananas. Some was a little less typical but still not unidentifiable…papaya, mango, pomegranate, star fruit. There were many kinds of cactus fruits, which, had I not recently eaten some in Cairo, I wouldn’t have known what they were. However, in Cairo, I only saw the one kind of fruit…a deep yellow, barrel-shaped sort. Here, there are many different sizes, shapes and colors of cactus fruit (or tuna as it’s called here)
There was a fruit that I didn’t know and Cesar couldn’t say in English. They were green and looked kind of like smallish, lumpy grapefruit from the outside but there were some cut in half for display and the inside looked like apple with the same sort of star-shaped core in the center with seeds and a thin skin. Cesar said it was kind of like apple only not so sweet.
There was also a small orange-colored fruit that Cesar didn’t know the name in English. They looked like kumquats…but since I’ve never had a kumquat, I have no idea if that’s really what they were like.
Hilda bought some and shared. They’re almost all pit with a thin layer of fruit pulp just under the skin. You bite off a piece of skin and suck off the fruity part then spit the skin out. They taste vaguely citrusy, sort of papayay, very mildly astringent, and there isn’t much to them but they were sweet and fruity.
We walked through the various plazas and outdoor pedestrian malls. Cesar was right…they were loaded with families and people out walking. There were a lot of fountains and statues, kids running around or splashing in the fountains, performers doing their shticks for whatever coins they could get, wandering vendors hawking soap bubbles or balloon animals or little toys. There were also a fair number of people who were disabled singing or doing something…begging for alms without actually panhandling.
Most of them seemed to be blind people singing or playing an instrument along with a recording. But probably the most heart-wrenching one I saw was a woman sitting on the pavement up next to a building. She had only tiny stubs for arms and about the same for legs. She did, however, have one almost-normal foot at the end of one of the vestigial legs. With that foot, she was crocheting doilies; holding the crochet hook between her toes.
On the plus side: there will be one guy in the class to translate when language issues come up, I know the material extremely well and have a fair bit of experience in teaching to various levels. That’s about it. The rest of it is going to be a roller coaster ride, I think.
But first…I needed pesos.
I went to the desk to ask about an ATM and was told there is one about a half-block up on the other side of the street, near the Ibis Hotel. She said it was on the street, which made me a little nervous but I thought I’d check it out.
Outside, it was a very gray, dismal-looking sort of day. There were heavy clouds off to one direction. Luckily, I had a poncho with me, if it came to that.
I found the Ibis and the ATM. It was one of those ATMs in a glass room with a door. You use your card to open the door and then it locks behind you to keep anyone else from getting in while you’re using the machine.
I got some cash, left the room and continued on down the block to find the Hilton Hotel, where the tour bus pickup is. I found the hotel (only about 2 blocks from my hotel) and asked a bellboy where the tour bus pickup was. He said it was down below (on the sidewalk) but it doesn’t come until 10:00.
I didn’t understand that until later, though. I thought he said it would be 10 minutes. So I went into the hotel’s gift shop to get a bottle of water and some chapstick with sunscreen. I took my pill and then waited down below for a bit. While I was waiting, I perused the brochure I got at my hotel and in reading the fine print, realized that the tours don’t start until 10am…which is when I “got” what the bellboy tried to tell me.
As it wasn’t even 9 yet, I headed back to the hotel. I stopped at an Oxxo (convenience store sort of place) and got a bottle of pop and a granola bar. I still had my headache and figured the caffeine would help.
Back at the room, I took some acetaminophen with the Coke and read until a little after 9:30 when I headed back to the Hilton. While I’d been in my room, the day had brightened considerably. It was actually sunny and very pleasant.
I got on the double-decker tour bus when it arrived, along with a few other people. I took a seat on the open, top level. I was really glad I’d packed a hat this time and had gotten the lip balm with sunscreen.
When you get on the bus, they give you a pair of earbud headphones. You plug them into the jack in front of you and select your language. That’s how you get the audio for the tour.
The voice doing the narration in English sounded so familiar…I couldn’t quite place it but it was a man with a southern accent…I think it’s one of the guys I hear all the time on NPR’s Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me show on Saturday’s at home…not Tom Bodet, the other southern guy…but I can’t think of his name.
The tour solved one mystery for me. Every time I’d been outside, I’d smelled something that reminded me of the bean processing plant in Des Moines. This smell was similar but not exactly like that. Still, it made me think of processing grain. While on the tour, the smell kept getting stronger…until we passed the Corona beer factory. Mystery solved!
The state of Jalisco, where Guadalajara is, is also the home of José Cuervo tequila. There are a number of tours that will take you to Tequila (hence, the name of the liquor) and show you how tequila is made from the blue agave plant. Originally, it was fermented like wine but now it is distilled.
The world also has Guadalajara to thank for mariachi bands. They originated here and eventually became a cultural symbol for all Mexico.
While riding around town on the tour bus, I noticed some curious things…
I saw a lot of traffic lights that had 2 red lights. I never saw them working independently of each other and not all lights had the double-reds. I didn’t know why. The only thing I could think was that it would certainly make it easier for people who are red-green color blind…even coming up on the lights in the dark, you could easily and immediately tell the red from the green. But that can’t be why…there just aren’t that many color-blind people and not all the lights had them. (Later, Cesar told me it’s where there are two sets of lanes, there’s a stop light for each of them…it functions sort of like a left-turn light except that’s not exactly it.)
Here, the traffic signal color pattern is the same as in the States, too…unlike Switzerland where the yellow comes after the red instead of after the green.
We passed a number of gas stations along the way. None of them post the price of gas so you can see it from the street. However I asked Cesar later and he told me it’s 7 pesos per liter (or, about $2.50 per gallon).
They use the $ symbol for pesos. So I kind of have to do a double-take when I see things like a bottle of pop for $7.50. Or the 2-hour bus tour for $110. They’re actually more like 68 cents and $10 (US) respectively.
The tour bus dropped me back at the Hilton at about 11:40 so I was back in plenty of time to meet Cesar for lunch and the afternoon touring.
I met him at the hotel entrance and he introduced me to his wife, Hilda, and their son, Alonzo (2½). He told me we were waiting a few more minutes for one of the other guys who would be one of my students in the coming week. He (Víctor) arrived a couple minutes later and we loaded up in Cesar’s car.
He took us to a restaurant on the Minerva roundabout…El Abajeño. We got a table streetside and watched the fountain and traffic go by. I had enmolado con pollo (an enchilada sort of thing with mole sauce on it) and Cesar ordered (for the table) some quesadillas with ham, cheese, mushrooms and onion in it. Also chips, guacamole and a plate of a traditional, local cheese. It was all really good.
When the waiter brought the food, he put down a bowl of red sauce and told me it was very hot…be very careful. So I very gingerly tried it with a chip. I didn’t think it was so hot. In fact, I ended up using quite a bit of in on my lunch. It had a certain spiciness to it but not really much heat…and I’m not a huge fan of pepper-hot food.
After lunch, we went to the market at San Juan de Dios. It’s a huge market that covers 3 levels and has warrens of aisles with shops on all sides. The center is an open courtyard sort of space where people congregate and socialize.
I wasn’t really looking for anything in particular…I just like to see what the local handicrafts are like and the sorts of things people sell. There was a lot of pottery and leather work, some woven basket type things, some stone carving.
Most of the bottom level around the courtyard was food and produce. I wanted to take a stroll past the produce just to see how much of it I recognized.
Most of it was pretty familiar…apples, pears, cantaloupe, watermelon, bananas. Some was a little less typical but still not unidentifiable…papaya, mango, pomegranate, star fruit. There were many kinds of cactus fruits, which, had I not recently eaten some in Cairo, I wouldn’t have known what they were. However, in Cairo, I only saw the one kind of fruit…a deep yellow, barrel-shaped sort. Here, there are many different sizes, shapes and colors of cactus fruit (or tuna as it’s called here)
There was a fruit that I didn’t know and Cesar couldn’t say in English. They were green and looked kind of like smallish, lumpy grapefruit from the outside but there were some cut in half for display and the inside looked like apple with the same sort of star-shaped core in the center with seeds and a thin skin. Cesar said it was kind of like apple only not so sweet.
There was also a small orange-colored fruit that Cesar didn’t know the name in English. They looked like kumquats…but since I’ve never had a kumquat, I have no idea if that’s really what they were like.
Hilda bought some and shared. They’re almost all pit with a thin layer of fruit pulp just under the skin. You bite off a piece of skin and suck off the fruity part then spit the skin out. They taste vaguely citrusy, sort of papayay, very mildly astringent, and there isn’t much to them but they were sweet and fruity.
We walked through the various plazas and outdoor pedestrian malls. Cesar was right…they were loaded with families and people out walking. There were a lot of fountains and statues, kids running around or splashing in the fountains, performers doing their shticks for whatever coins they could get, wandering vendors hawking soap bubbles or balloon animals or little toys. There were also a fair number of people who were disabled singing or doing something…begging for alms without actually panhandling.
Most of them seemed to be blind people singing or playing an instrument along with a recording. But probably the most heart-wrenching one I saw was a woman sitting on the pavement up next to a building. She had only tiny stubs for arms and about the same for legs. She did, however, have one almost-normal foot at the end of one of the vestigial legs. With that foot, she was crocheting doilies; holding the crochet hook between her toes.
It was especially disturbing (to me) because people were just standing around looking at her like she was the main attraction at a circus freakshow. She obviously couldn't move, feed or dress herself, yet she was wearing a very clean, bright dress...sleeveless, to clearly show the arm stubs and with the skirt draped around her modestly yet tucked to reveal the foot. So she had to have a "handler" who posed her there. I scanned the crowd briefly to see if I could spot someone nearby but not part of the gawkers...I didn't. I don't know whether someone set her there then left or what.
After our walking, Cesar took Víctor and me back to our hotel. It was about 5pm and the day was still lovely so I decided to actually hit the pool this time.
The pool was deserted when I got there and the water was very warm…actually warmer than I’d like for swimming but I swam laps anyway. I have no idea how long I did that, but I was feeling like I’d actually done something physical.
There was a ledge all the way around the pool that was maybe a foot wide and a foot and a half deep. Along the middle of each side there was another shelf above that that was probably 6 feet wide and about 6 inches deep. I got out on that shelf and did some yoga.
It was kind of weird doing yoga in water but between that and the swimming, most of the travel-induced muscle tightness was gone.
I rounded out the day with supper at the restaurant…tortilla soup and a tuna salad stuffed avocado. The tortilla soup was “Aztec style”…it was tomato based with strips of crispy fried tortilla and chunks of avocado and some creme on top. The tuna was basic tuna salad, only not so heavy on the mayo as it is in the US (I’m not sure there actually was any…there wasn’t much “sauce” of any sort) with chunky tuna pieces, diced veggies, and corn in half a peeled avocado.
I did some prep for tomorrow’s class while dining. Cesar and I had talked about the class some during the day. It’s going to be a challenge. The class was originally set up to be an intermediate level class for people who’ve been using the program for a while.
The challenges (that I know about) are going to be: there are going to be 3 people in the class who have never used the program. It’s going to be a bit of a trick to make sure the newbies don’t feel completely lost and the experienced people don’t get bored or feel like they’ve wasted their time. Oh, and some of them don’t speak English all that well. And I’ve got 3 days with them…the normal beginner class is 4 days.
On the plus side: there will be one guy in the class to translate when language issues come up, I know the material extremely well and have a fair bit of experience in teaching to various levels. That’s about it. The rest of it is going to be a roller coaster ride, I think.
Aug 25 - Touchdown in Guadalajara
Alan picked me up and we dropped the dog at the boarder. It took a little longer at the boarder because it was a place I’d not booked before so there was paperwork. But we got her handed over and headed to the airport.
Check in was a piece of cake and there were no lines or delays anywhere.
The flights were uneventful and the connection in Dallas was unremarkable. The only slight hiccup was that when I checked the board in Dallas, there were 2 American flights to Guadalajara listed…both leaving at 12:40, my departure time…different gates. I didn’t have my ticket at hand (or I could have saved myself some extra running around) but they were both departing from the D terminal and I had to take the tram to get there so I figured I’d go to D and sort it out later.
The hiccup part was that one flight was at D6 and the other at D37 and they were two different tram stops. I couldn’t check the flight number without getting off the tram at one or the other so I just metaphorically threw a dart and got off at one. The wrong one, naturally.
I had time; it’s not like I was in danger of missing the flight or anything. It was just a slight detour.
At the gate, there was a display with the flight information…duration, aircraft, etc. From that I learned that while the business class travelers would be served lunch, the economy travelers had the option to purchase snacks. So I figured I’d better find something for lunch before I got on the plane.
The only food place in the vicinity was an Auntie Anne’s pretzel place so I got a pretzel dog. Woo-hoo.
On the plane, my seat was almost all the way to the back but there was hardly anyone else…every row had empty seats. It was a quiet, uneventful flight and I mostly just read. Oh, and those snacks for purchase…Snickers bar, bag of trail mix or something else about like that for $3 each. Luckily I had some soynuts and dried apricots I brought from home.
When we arrived at Guadalajara (the locals are referred to as Tapatíos…dunno why), we go off the plane onto a people-mover sort of thing. It was kind of like a self-powered, enclosed flatbed with seats. I did a rough-n-dirty estimate of how many people had been on the plane, now that everyone was collected in a smaller space, and I figured it at no more than 50.
Inside the airport we queued up at immigration….residents to the right, foreigners to the left. The residents’ line had 3 agents. The foreigner line had one, and it moved very slowly. There were a number of family groups with small children and it took a while to process them. 20 minutes later and about 4 people before I got to the front of the line, another agent opened up. She was just zipping through people and I’m sure it didn’t take much longer to clear everyone left to check.
Once through immigration, I headed to baggage claim and customs. ‘Course, I didn’t have any checked bags so all I had to do was find the customs line and leave. That took me a minute because I couldn’t find the line at first. That’s because there was no line. I don’t think I’ve EVER been through customs where there was no line at all. The agent took my paperwork, I pushed the button (got a green light) and I was out the door to find my contact.
I found him and we headed out to the parking lot. He didn’t speak English so we didn’t have involved conversations. He asked me if I came from Phoenix and I said, “No, Dallas.” He’d apparently had some worry because when he arrived to pick me up, according to the flight boards, there was no flight from Dallas. There was one from Phoenix and one from LA, but no Dallas. He said he’d called the office and a bunch of people to try to confirm that I was coming from Dallas and that he had the right day/time/etc.
I was sorry he’d worried but I have no clue why the flight wasn’t on the board…especially since there should have been 2 of them arriving from Dallas at about the same time.
The ride to the hotel was smooth. I spend most of it trying to read the billboards and signs, to try to refamiliarize myself with Spanish. Some things I could figure out…some were impenetrable.
The streets were amazingly clean, though. I was sort of mentally comparing them with San Salvador…the other large Central American city I’ve been in…and it was night and day. In San Salvador, there is trash and dirt everywhere and the air has a dark, thick quality to it from all the diesel engines. Here, the streets were clean and the air looked (and smelled) fresh.
I got checked into the hotel (3rd floor room) and unpacked, called and left a message for Alan to let him know I’d arrived, then rested/read for a bit. I decided to go check out the pool before going to the restaurant for supper so I put on my swimming suit and headed for the 5th floor, where the hotel guide said the pool was. Except that according to the elevator, there was no 5th floor. The pool and jogging track are on the roof. You have to get off the elevator on the 4th floor then take the stairs up to the roof. It’s a nice space…all tiled and appointed. However, it was just too cool for me to want to swim outdoors so I decided to exercise in my room, then go to supper.
I’d just walked into the room when the phone rang. It was Alan returning my call. We got caught up with each other and by the time we hung up, I’d decided to skip the workout and go straight to supper. A really poor decision when traveling…as there tends to be way too much eating and way too little physicality on the road. But there you have it.
I went down to the bellboy stand and got some information on tours and suchlike, then crossed the way to the restaurant. The restaurant was well lit but I didn’t see a soul there. I walked in and found someone in uniform and asked if they were open. He said, “Yes, sit anywhere.” So I picked a smaller table by a window.
I looked at the menu and decided on shrimp cocktail (Puerto Vallarta style) and fish filet (Aztec style) along with a margarita (after all, this is Jose Cuervo country). The shrimp was…a little different. The shrimp were cooked and peeled and floating in a malted-milk type glass of water and some sort of green leafy stuff at the bottom with a green orange slice parked on the rim. They were tepid, instead of chilled. They came with half a dozen packets of ketchup and a small bowl of diced onions, chilies, tomatoes and pieces of avocado and lime. I fished them out of the glass with the spoon that came with it and put them on a plate then squeezed lime on them and mixed the other components (except the ketchup….that just seemed sacrilege) into an almost-salad sort of thing. I would have preferred they be cold, but other than that, they were tasty.
The fish was a large, boneless filet of some sort of mild, white fish, fried crispy without any batter. It was topped with a pile of squash blossoms, onion, chilies and a little cheese in some sort of green sauce…I’m not sure if the sauce was made from chilies or a leafy something like was in the bottom of the shrimp cocktail glass. There was a side of rice and a mixed veggie relleno sort of thing to accompany the fish. It was tasty, too, but a lot of food.
After supper, I returned to the room and got a call from Cesar. We’re set to meet at 12:30 tomorrow for lunch and touring a nearby city.
Check in was a piece of cake and there were no lines or delays anywhere.
The flights were uneventful and the connection in Dallas was unremarkable. The only slight hiccup was that when I checked the board in Dallas, there were 2 American flights to Guadalajara listed…both leaving at 12:40, my departure time…different gates. I didn’t have my ticket at hand (or I could have saved myself some extra running around) but they were both departing from the D terminal and I had to take the tram to get there so I figured I’d go to D and sort it out later.
The hiccup part was that one flight was at D6 and the other at D37 and they were two different tram stops. I couldn’t check the flight number without getting off the tram at one or the other so I just metaphorically threw a dart and got off at one. The wrong one, naturally.
I had time; it’s not like I was in danger of missing the flight or anything. It was just a slight detour.
At the gate, there was a display with the flight information…duration, aircraft, etc. From that I learned that while the business class travelers would be served lunch, the economy travelers had the option to purchase snacks. So I figured I’d better find something for lunch before I got on the plane.
The only food place in the vicinity was an Auntie Anne’s pretzel place so I got a pretzel dog. Woo-hoo.
On the plane, my seat was almost all the way to the back but there was hardly anyone else…every row had empty seats. It was a quiet, uneventful flight and I mostly just read. Oh, and those snacks for purchase…Snickers bar, bag of trail mix or something else about like that for $3 each. Luckily I had some soynuts and dried apricots I brought from home.
When we arrived at Guadalajara (the locals are referred to as Tapatíos…dunno why), we go off the plane onto a people-mover sort of thing. It was kind of like a self-powered, enclosed flatbed with seats. I did a rough-n-dirty estimate of how many people had been on the plane, now that everyone was collected in a smaller space, and I figured it at no more than 50.
Inside the airport we queued up at immigration….residents to the right, foreigners to the left. The residents’ line had 3 agents. The foreigner line had one, and it moved very slowly. There were a number of family groups with small children and it took a while to process them. 20 minutes later and about 4 people before I got to the front of the line, another agent opened up. She was just zipping through people and I’m sure it didn’t take much longer to clear everyone left to check.
Once through immigration, I headed to baggage claim and customs. ‘Course, I didn’t have any checked bags so all I had to do was find the customs line and leave. That took me a minute because I couldn’t find the line at first. That’s because there was no line. I don’t think I’ve EVER been through customs where there was no line at all. The agent took my paperwork, I pushed the button (got a green light) and I was out the door to find my contact.
I found him and we headed out to the parking lot. He didn’t speak English so we didn’t have involved conversations. He asked me if I came from Phoenix and I said, “No, Dallas.” He’d apparently had some worry because when he arrived to pick me up, according to the flight boards, there was no flight from Dallas. There was one from Phoenix and one from LA, but no Dallas. He said he’d called the office and a bunch of people to try to confirm that I was coming from Dallas and that he had the right day/time/etc.
I was sorry he’d worried but I have no clue why the flight wasn’t on the board…especially since there should have been 2 of them arriving from Dallas at about the same time.
The ride to the hotel was smooth. I spend most of it trying to read the billboards and signs, to try to refamiliarize myself with Spanish. Some things I could figure out…some were impenetrable.
The streets were amazingly clean, though. I was sort of mentally comparing them with San Salvador…the other large Central American city I’ve been in…and it was night and day. In San Salvador, there is trash and dirt everywhere and the air has a dark, thick quality to it from all the diesel engines. Here, the streets were clean and the air looked (and smelled) fresh.
I got checked into the hotel (3rd floor room) and unpacked, called and left a message for Alan to let him know I’d arrived, then rested/read for a bit. I decided to go check out the pool before going to the restaurant for supper so I put on my swimming suit and headed for the 5th floor, where the hotel guide said the pool was. Except that according to the elevator, there was no 5th floor. The pool and jogging track are on the roof. You have to get off the elevator on the 4th floor then take the stairs up to the roof. It’s a nice space…all tiled and appointed. However, it was just too cool for me to want to swim outdoors so I decided to exercise in my room, then go to supper.
I’d just walked into the room when the phone rang. It was Alan returning my call. We got caught up with each other and by the time we hung up, I’d decided to skip the workout and go straight to supper. A really poor decision when traveling…as there tends to be way too much eating and way too little physicality on the road. But there you have it.
I went down to the bellboy stand and got some information on tours and suchlike, then crossed the way to the restaurant. The restaurant was well lit but I didn’t see a soul there. I walked in and found someone in uniform and asked if they were open. He said, “Yes, sit anywhere.” So I picked a smaller table by a window.
I looked at the menu and decided on shrimp cocktail (Puerto Vallarta style) and fish filet (Aztec style) along with a margarita (after all, this is Jose Cuervo country). The shrimp was…a little different. The shrimp were cooked and peeled and floating in a malted-milk type glass of water and some sort of green leafy stuff at the bottom with a green orange slice parked on the rim. They were tepid, instead of chilled. They came with half a dozen packets of ketchup and a small bowl of diced onions, chilies, tomatoes and pieces of avocado and lime. I fished them out of the glass with the spoon that came with it and put them on a plate then squeezed lime on them and mixed the other components (except the ketchup….that just seemed sacrilege) into an almost-salad sort of thing. I would have preferred they be cold, but other than that, they were tasty.
The fish was a large, boneless filet of some sort of mild, white fish, fried crispy without any batter. It was topped with a pile of squash blossoms, onion, chilies and a little cheese in some sort of green sauce…I’m not sure if the sauce was made from chilies or a leafy something like was in the bottom of the shrimp cocktail glass. There was a side of rice and a mixed veggie relleno sort of thing to accompany the fish. It was tasty, too, but a lot of food.
After supper, I returned to the room and got a call from Cesar. We’re set to meet at 12:30 tomorrow for lunch and touring a nearby city.
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