Travels With A Road Dog: Hitchhiking Along the Roads of the Americas

Chapter 11 The Mexican Ways

The Mexican Ways

            With so long to wait for the train to Monterrey, we discussed our situation and made two decisions: to exchange our dollars for pesos, making sure to get only small denominations, which we did; and to ride the rails all the way to Mexico City. Back at the station, I tried to ask an official about taking Jambo on the train, using a few gestures and the very few words of Spanish I’d understood from listening to others. The man in the uniform seemed to understand and told me it would be okay, provided I kept him on a leash.

When we finally boarded, the four of us took seats in an already crowded compartment. That area of northern Mexico is mainly bone-dry desert, and as I stared out of the window, I was grateful for our decision to get as far south as possible before starting to hitch. Courtney and David had been bickering since we crossed the border, and as our journey progressed it got worse. There didn’t seem to be any one big issue, yet whatever subject was under discussion, Courtney took the opposite view and I tried to stay out of it. The other people around took a kind interest in us, and when a guard came through, they encouraged us to cover Jambo up until he’d gone by. It was so cute how the men and women around us would lay their bags and hats around and over Jambo to cover him up. After the next stop, a different guard walked by, saw Jambo, and began to remonstrate with us. I took him to mean we had to pay for Jambo, but when I handed over a 20-peso note (about $7 at that time), he moved away without issuing a ticket. This seemed to relax everyone until the next time it happened, when I had to do the same and realized that in fact all I was paying was a bribe. When Jambo needed to relieve himself, I had to sneak him off the train and he seemed to understand what was needed in each situation and behaved really well. Sometimes we were able to sneak off and back on without any notice, and other times, a guard would notice and I'd have to pay another bribe. In Monterrey we changed trains and yet another guard came by and took a different attitude. Our failure to understand him led us to being marched off the train at the next stop, and much to our relief, we were taken to the last carriage, the caboose, which had far fewer seats and an empty area that was obviously for transporting animals. Only if we'd known about the animal car from the beginning! There was a window we could look out of and a lot more space for us to spread out in. The open windows letting fresh air blow through kept the temperature and the smell down and made me wish I'd known how to speak Spanish and we could've asked for this car in the beginning. It would have also saved us quite a lot in the money we were dishing out to bribe the train security to sit in the crowded car when we could have had this open one all along.

            The reality of being in a foreign country didn’t really sink in until we exited the train in Mexico City. All the city trains had guards, who made it clear Jambo was not allowed on board, and after trying unsuccessfully to sneak him on and failing, we were resigned to hitchhiking or walking out of the city. But the volume of traffic was terrible, the roads were horrendous and badly lit, and as we began to realize the size of the place and the dangers of being on foot, David decided to use his money to get us a cab ride to the outskirts. Despite being one of the world’s most populated cities, the infrastructure and facilities were poor; a large proportion of the population didn’t have electricity and were living in handmade shacks stacked up on the hillsides. As we passed by the lot of a closed gas station, we could make out the shapes of three men, one of them holding another in a headlock. I saw a hand lash out with a glint of metal, and the man in the headlock dropped to the ground. It may have taken an hour and almost the last of our pesos, but it was so worth it not to have to walk through the city at night. After the cab dropped us off, we walked until we found a spot off the road where we felt safe enough to sleep.

            We woke up before the dawn, and Courtney and David began arguing right away. The first thing I noticed, however, was how thick the air seemed and how difficult it was to breathe. In the far distance, I could see Mount Popocatepetl, a very large and smoking volcano with a snow-capped rim. It may have been only a thin plume, but in my state of mind, it made me feel a little nervous. Nobody else seemed to be concerned, and I guess if you live near a smoking volcano, you get used to it. But I was anxious to start walking until the volcano was out of my range of vision. We walked for an hour or so and then stood in the shadow of a bridge to hitch. Several times a bus pulled over, but left when we told them we didn’t have any money. At first we thought, oh cool, the bus driver was offering us a lift, but then we realized that there weren’t any bus stops and drivers stopped for anyone by the side of the road with their hand out. Then I began to notice something else that made hitching a problem: nearly every car was full with passengers. Later, when I got to know the country and its people a little better, I discovered that Mexicans didn’t typically drive long distances and restricted themselves to short journeys to the nearest big city for shopping or other errands. And why, wherever they do go, it is usually with family or neighbors, who probably share the cost. Public transport, by bus or train, is far more economical. When Mexicans come to the states for the first time, it must be really strange for them to see the vast majority of cars with just one or two passengers.