In Mazatlan, I got to go snorkeling with the oyster divers and learn how to pick them and open them. I then learned how to make a fishing rod out of a soda bottle, and sat on the beach making some jewelry from seashells. I went walking around the Bora bora hotel and found a treasure trove of rich sand composed of sea glass and small shells and shell bits. I went walking around in the evening and bought a bit of grub, and found that the cart chef was a real amicable fellow, so instead of building up the energy to go hang out at the bars, I decided to go buy some beer and hang out with them. I learned that his apprentice was learning english, so we hit it off, exchanging conversation as I've found so often very useful since then, with him in English and me in spanish, switching back to our home languages only to finish thoughts that we wanted to quickly. He invited me to stay at his house and we shared some of his skanky weed, not too great but hey it got us high. He was supposed to be finding a new apartment of his own with his wife, but admitted to me in private that he ahad spent too much on his end on drinking, drugs, and prostitutes--though she had spent her fair share too. I joined them on their house hunting expedition, and got to see some quinta apartments and be there for a moment looking in on their hopes for the next chapter of their life, but had to simply wish them luck and leave soon enough on the next part of my expedition.
I helped a woman and her daughter to move a solid 12 cubic meters of concrete blocks into their yard, and it was endearing, watching the daughter play her part as they probably assumed I was doing it to court her--and while she was cute, she was too young and I only did it as a quixotic gesture. I walked on down the road a couple kilometers and, after pasing a frightening military road block (I'd had a bag of weed and no passport, and this was one of my first encounters with the big gangs of men with semiautomatic rifles on hand) and then jumped over to the train tracks; they seemed decrepit and the nature on the other side was much more appealing than the littered road offered. I only made it about one kilometer before a couple fellas invited me over to their casa to figure me out and offer me some weed; by the time this was all over the sun was setting and they said the rail patrol would pick me up if I crashed anywhere else, so offered me to sleep in the "house" next door, basically just a leanto made of sticks and planks. The next day I came back to town and bought a bus ticket as far as I could because I let everybody convince me there was no way anybody was going to give me a ride hitching.
But by the next morning I was in Puebla with 20 pesos to my name. I had to hitch. I told myself that hell, I'll ask for help if I need to, if I cant get a ride, and Ill walk a ways, and Ill look for a horse or a burro or a bike to steal, or work for somebody for one if I need to. I was walking out of town when the police picked me up, they saw me walking and said to themselves I was a dangerous fool, so offered to bring me to the migration office, where they said I could get a bath and make a phone call for money and other stuff; we went but when the office guy found out I didnt have a passport, shit went awry. They couldnt help, and I felt soooo bad because this was the first time Id encountered police straight up helping somebody, going out of their way when nothing was otherwise wrong, and they pretty much got scolded for it. While my stomach hit the floor thinking my adventure was over when itd hardly begun, I profusely said its okay, I understand, I will face the consequences. To my surprise and relief, they said I could leave, no problem, since I hadnt directly asked for help, but they couldnt do anything for me but deport me. The police took me to a gas station and said ask the camionetas (trucks), stick out my thumb, whatever, but be careful. so I was on my way, and damn it was good going. A young contractor picked me up and squeezed me in between he and his buddy and the stick shaft. We went a ways, they dropped me off cuz they had to go another direction, and I walked a ways because so far in the country and I still hadnt been able to walk in the countryside. So I walked a bit, they picked me up again after 45 minutes, and we drove another 45 minutes to the caseta where they turned off for tehuantepec, and I went on just up the hill a ways before another guy picked me up and we had some good bilingual exchange before we arrived together in Oaxaca. Aside from forgeting my watch in the bushes beating off between when the first guys dropped me off and picked me up again, this first hitching experience in Mexico was a complete success. Bravo! I should have done it sooner, damn.
