BIG TRIP Chapter 6

DAY 10

Saturday May 11th 2002

Well, Juarez is just a fucking ghetto. Now I can say that I have been to Mexico. But I would also have to add that it was the most depressing 45 minutes of my life. That’s an exaggeration of course. But it was quite depressing, nonetheless. The border crossing is close to the hotel, for sure. But that’s about the only good thing I can say about my experience today. Quickly and easily, I found a parking lot near the bridge. It was only 3 bucks to park. The neighborhood here on the American side of the border was really run-down and dirty. That shoulda been my first hint (that, and the relative ease with which a parking space was procured less than 50 yards from the Rio Grande). Just an old run-down neighborhood with crappy dirty storefronts and a handful of street vendors in carnival booths... (and that was on THIS side of the border.) Anyway, it was 25 cents to cross over and I walked across the bridge in like 5 minutes. I was not prepared for what I found on the other side. No kidding - just a depressing dirty little ghetto. Every storefront filthy and decrepit. Faded paint-jobs, broken signage. Just a mess. Obviously a very poor place, like a third world country. Not many white faces around at all. Walking the main drag, I just looked around in disgust. A couple different dudes offered me cab-rides, “Taxi, Meester?” One dude offered to sell me a ring (Twice). I guess I had in my mind a rather romanticized vision of what my visit to Mexico would be like. I pictured neon lights and happy, touristy scenery, pretty little gift shops where I could get souvenirs for my family... Instead, it was so nasty I was afraid to touch anything. I was afraid to call any friends or family because I didn’t wanna whip out my cell phone in this incredibly run-down, wrecked-out old neglected ghetto. (Reluctant, indeed, to show anything remotely like a sign of “wealth” in this desperately poor place, for fear of getting robbed or worse...) I spent more time waiting in the line to get back IN to this country than I did walking around over there. Including drive time, which involved getting lost briefly on the way back to the hotel, I was only gone from my room for like 2 hours.

At the outset of this trip, I never imagined that a 13-hour drive would be genuinely more enjoyable than both the Texas beach campground and the brief visit to Juarez... More Irony: I had previously been intimidated by - and kind of dreading - the looong drives. But now I see how the driving can be more fun and exhilarating than some of the different stops along the trail. Not only have I proved to myself that I can handle the long drive days and actually enjoy them, but now I’m looking forward to driving all the way to San Diego tomorrow. Aidan is expecting me in the evening, and I continue to run WAY ahead of schedule. Excellent. Overcoming the fear of long drives also means I won’t be in a position where I have to pull over and set up camp every few hundred miles. I drove 859 miles yesterday and really didn’t feel stiff or tired or grumpy at the end of the drive. From here to San Diego is more like 700 miles, but could still be a similarly long day because it’s a lot of driving thru the mountains and that can bring your average speed down considerably. Whatever. I’m ready. Southern California, here I come.

Afterthoughts:

The night air in El Paso is indescribable. Very fresh and “tasty”, but at the same time arid and dry. Fresh, clean smelling and yet dry mountain air. I stood outside on the balcony of my hotel and watched the sun go down, watched the traffic going by on the highway. A beautiful night, and this was the first of several Motel 6 swimming pools I would dip into on my journey.

Afterthoughts on Juarez: I was glad that I’d worn my clip-on sunglasses so that my eyes did not meet anyone else’s while I was walking around. It just seemed fortuitous to have those mirror shades on so that no one could meet my gaze and of course because those things can also lend a man a “tough” kinda look. But even in my cut-off shorts and faded old concert t-shirt, I still looked and felt cleaner and “richer” than everyone around me. I was sure I stuck out in the crowd. Even their public transit looked like shit - the worst old beat-up (light blue!?) buses you ever saw in your life. Stinky burning motor oil smell from the engines, and loud belching mufflers too. I even saw one bus broken down by the side of the road and its passengers were slowly dragging themselves off the broken down bus and onto a replacement that had pulled up to resume the route. I did hear some very intriguing Mexican Hip-Hop playing loudly in some of the stores I passed, loud enough you could hear it quite well out on the street. I wish I’d just ducked into one of those shops and asked if I could buy the CD they were playing. It was great-sounding stuff, peculiar and kinda funny to my ears. Also: bought a bottle of water for 60 pesos, which came out to like 20 cents American, I think. I was glad I sprung for a 2nd bottle before returning to the States, because I waited in line on the bridge in the blazing sun for over an hour. A young Hispanic couple in front of me was all touchy-feely and making out for the duration of my wait in line. When they reached the US checkpoint they acted like they were siblings for some reason. The boy said he had no ID and he told the border guards that he and his “sister” were visiting relatives in El Paso who were helping them find jobs. Just an odd little thing I remember...

2 nights spent in El Paso Motel 6, watching Cartoon Network on cable TV and swimming in the pool.