Monterrey continued/ Chihuahua

Actually, my previous post wasn't finished yet, but the last sentence of it that rolled out of my pen - I mean keyboard - sounded like a nice ending. But anyway,...

The first two nights I stayed in that hotel my uncle had payed for me. At first, it felt comfortable. Too comfortable. So I switched to Couchsurfing, an excellent online community for 'alternative' travelers, to find a person to host me for a couple of days. The first one to accept my reply was a young fellow named Jozabad, or Joza for friends. A self-proclaimed hippy in mind, a decent employee and occasional outburst drunk, Joza let me stay at his grandparents' house for a couple of days. Well, a few days turned quickly into 10 days. How? First of all, his ability to make you feel welcome and his gang of jolly friends who do likewise. But most of all, it's his grandparents who without consideration accept a foreign traveler into to their house as one of their own. In fact, they're already used to receiving backpacking trotters from all over the world thanks to their grandson, who offers them accommodation. The following ten days I didn't only go out and explored the city, but I hung out with Joza's friends and lived together with his grandparents and sisters. No wonder a week went by without realizing it...

The part of living together with them was perhaps the most interesting one. Usually, when I'm out traveling I have this urge to go out as quickly as possible out of fear of not seeing everything I wish to see. But in this house that was slightly different. I would wake up, get up, and walk into the kitchen where Grandma or Grandpa was preparing lunch. I'd start talking to them about I don't what anymore and help in anyway possible. If I wasn't useful in the kitchen, Joza's little sister Michelle would keep me entertained. Only 8 years old, it feels like you're talking to an adult. She showed me a few of her songs on my guitar, which were awful since she was not playing any actual chords or melodies, but made me laugh nonetheless. Like any child, she would never stop talking and coming up with new ideas until one of her family members would shut her up. I didn't mind. Perhaps the most comical member of the family was Don Jesus, the grandfather. He would start talking about the old days when he would go drinking with his pals after work and return completely shitfaced, only to find his wife upset again. It came to that point, he told me laughingly, that on Fridays before he went off to work the weekend his wife would give him a few extra pairs of pants and shirts because the man would not return home until Monday, tired of working and binge drinking with his colleagues. Now that's what I call true love. Hours would pass on like that until my host Joza would return from work and pick me up to go visiting places or meet up with friends. Honestly, I didn't mind staying at home at all. I truly enjoyed hanging out with his family who took care of me more than I would ever expect from them. Their unselfishness and willingness to receive a stranger into their household only inspires me to do the same to others. As a poor traveler, I can hardly repay their goodness, regretfully. Being eternally grateful doesn't seem enough in this case. I can only do the same what they did to me and therefore start an unmalicious circle of receiving and giving help. That's why the couchsurfing project is perfect in its essence, which can be simplified to Karma. Unfortunately, the reality is different for this world is sometimes too crooked to sustain that thought. Positiveness is too often crushed by genuine negativeness. "The world is crashing down?" Maybe, but until that happens, it's imperative too stay positive, only it were for just a short period of time. Living purely and eternally positive, on the other hand, makes one naive and turn away from reality. It's a choice one has to make: think negative always and end up being a grouchy, wretched old person, stay naively on the bright side of life and be confronted by the hazards of reality, or hover somewhere in between, swinging like a pendulum from one side to another whatever situation you're in. I think I'll opt for the last.

...

Few, did I just write that? Fuck. Well, I'll turn to a lighter subject: Chihuahua. I arrived to the capital of the homonymous state past Monday. The bus ride was interesting because for eleven hours continuously the bus driver played one awfully dubbed Hollywood smash hit movie after the other, which made reading or listening to music at normal volume difficult. It was either being brainwashed by Hollywood cinema or sleeping. Good thing I was tired from the night before...

As in Monterrey, I request a couch and very easily found one. Roberto, a 32-year old white collar cooperative/dreamy traveler has been hosting me for the last couple of days. As his first couchsurfer, he has received me very well taking me for beers every night. During the day he nods 'yes' indisputably to his colleagues and trains his under-positioned newcomers, while at night he changes uniform to fetch a few beers in an unfashionable bar. Along the way, Roberto has learned to balance his cooperative alter ego with his real self. I've learned from him that not every company slave thinks like a company slave, but cherishes a much more interesting life beyond the office walls. It gives me hope for the future. On the positive-negative scale his pendulum leans more towards positive side. "La vida es rica y se tiene que disfrutarla", goes his motto (Life is rich and is to be enjoyed). Right on, brother!

The city is a typical Mexican city with a glorious cathedral, cozy plazas, labyrinth-like markets selling anything from fake Rolex's to cream-covered corn on a stick, cheap food stands, beggars, indigenous mothers and children on the ground, assertive vendors, and - at least in this part of the country - monotonous norteño music blazing from speakers on every corner of the street. If not visiting museums, reading or playing the guitar, I'm just wandering through the streets and immerse myself in Mexican frenzy. It's a nice city to hang around for a few days. This might be my last stop in an urban area before shipping off to Creel, a small mountainous village near the Barranca Del Cobre, the Mexican equivalent of America's Grand Canyon. It is said and written that many backpackers go there to hike through the canyons and meet the local indigenous people, the Tarahumaras, who have not changed since centuries. Sounds promising. It feels about time to go into the nature for while. Or at least escape a city's madness.