MY LAST TRIP

It was over six weeks ago and may have been my last trip to what I used to call "home".  Not because I am about to die, but because there isn't much left there to go back to.  Before I moved to Mexico many of my close friends had died or moved.  There are maybe a half dozen people that I do enjoy seeing (they can visit me).  Oh well yes, I will go back one day, but not any time soon.

When I moved out of my house, I rented a storage area and moved in what I thought I could not live without (how wrong I was).  I think the rent was $120.00 a month at first.  Each six months, they raised it to the point that it was now $200.00 a month (a lot of money here in Mexico).  For over one year I had tried to find someone who would drive some of the stuff down to Puerto Vallarta.  On this trip my former gardener said he had someone who would do it, but could not give me a price without seeing how much I wanted to move.

One early morning I met my gardener and the man I assumed was the truck driver.  He explained (or rather my gardener explained for him) that he was taking a trunk to Tepic and could put my furniture in the back of the truck. It would pass with do duty.  He did not care about weight, but measured everything to assess the volume it would create.  He could deliver it to an address in Tepic for me to move, or rent another truck to bring it all the way to Purerto Vallarta (about a 5 or 6 hour drive). for a higher price.   I asked "how much more" and he said another $125.00!  The entire move would cost $850,00.  I was thrilled and told him it's a deal!  Knowing that weight was not a problem I began packing more stuff into the Mexican trunk and breakfront. 

With the idea of the furniture going, I decided it was time to clear out the rest of my "stuff" and empty the storage unit.  Once I began to open boxes I found that a lot of it consisted of paper products, spices, and general kitchen stuff.  What my friend couldn't use I threw away.  Another friend who ran a consignment shop said that he would try to "get rid" of some of it.  Besides 30 or 40 paintings I had boxes of Lalique, Baccarat, and Waterford crystal.  He told me that he knew someone who handled more "high end" things and had him call me.  I took him to the unit and started opening box after box.  Much of it I had forgotten I owned.  At first I was a little reluctant to part with some of the pieces that I had lived with for 40 years or more.  Some were fairly expensive.  I had a baccarat horse that cost $1,250.00 and I knew one Lalique bowl went for $750.00.  I also gave him my grandfathers gold watch, several ivory pieces, and two painting that were by "know" artists, plus a sterling silver candelabra.  I told him to just take it all and make of a list and tell me how much he thought it was worth.

At retail, we are talking about $7 to $10,000, but I figured he would only offer maybe 25 cents on the dollar.  When I was told that the six boxes of crystal, a sterling silver candelabra, ivory, and paintings came to $500.00 (about 5 cents on the dollar)  I was shocked.  Then I thought, it was stuff I had enjoyed for many, many years, I now had a new life and I would be saving $200.00 a month.  I had already sold a couple hundred dollars worth and my friend with the consignment store could send me what ever he made later.

At 6:00am I met the "supposed" driver at my storage unit.  He was standing out side the gate and when I opened the gate he motioned for someone else to pull in a small pick up truck.  Many of the larger items I wanted to bring down would not fit (including the life sized portrait of me!!)  As it was they had to stack everything so the legs of the chairs were poking into the leather.  One table was  inlaid wood and it was raining.  The truck had no top or tarp.  Some how they managed with ropes to secure it which was now about an eight foot high pile of furniture and "stuff".  I handed the man I had originally met the $850.00.  He gave $100.00 to the truck driver and he drove off.  I wondered how long it would be, or even "if" I would ever see the stuff again.

After about three weeks I called my gardener to find out where the truck was.  He said he would call me back.  He did not, so I called him.  He said that he had tried to reach me to say that it should be there very soon.  A month passed and finally six weeks after the truck left my storage unit, I reached my gardener again.  He insisted that Arturo (the truck driver) had sent me several messages and so had he.  I never got them, so what is the bottom line?  I was leaving for Japan in a week.  Then I found out that he and Arturo had been texting my "magic jack" line.  It is a computer phone that takes messages, but not text messages.  At least I felt somewhat relieved to know that "maybe" I might see the "stuff' again.  He said it should arrive in a week, but that "someone" would call me a few days before.

Three days before I was to fly to Japan, I called my gardener again, for I still had heard from no one. He said that "who ever" had my furniture had a storage area in Tepic and could put it there until I returned.  I don't even know who has the furniture and not sure that my gardener did either, but told him that I would call him when I got back and either arrange for them to get it to me, or my young Mexican friend (whose mother lives in Tepic) would pick it up for me.

After finishing packing and watering all the plants I decided that rather than clean the apartment one more time I would go off to the beach.  On my way back home, one of the men who sell tours below me said that someone came with some chairs.  He wasn't sure if I was still here, or in Japan, but the guy said he would try again.  WHEN!!!  I was leaving for Japan in a matter of hours and had no way to contact the man.

Why no one every calls you ahead of time, I do not know.  But they don't.  I waited around about 3 hours and did manage to shower.  I had already missed "happy hour" and had nothing in the refrigerator to eat, so I decided to tape a note to the door telling "who ever" showed up that I was around the corner at the local bar.  Just then my buzzer rang.  One guy in a truck big enough to have hauled several households was parked around the corner.  I had to bribe one of the bus drivers to move out of the way and finally he started to unload.  My stuff was definately not the only stuff on it.  There was a car toward the back.  Any way it is here piled in my living room.   It was all there, one French chair had a broken leg, but what really surprised me was that everything was wrapped.  Cardboard had been wrapped around and then it was all sealed in plastic.  When or where this occurred I have no idea.  Now I just have to remember what I did with the key I used to lock the cabinet.   I will sort it out when I get back from Japan.

Oh by the way, I will be in Japan for almost a month, so don't expect anything too soon.

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A BANK ACCOUNT IN MEXICO

Doing anything financial in Mexico is always a problem, so I was prepared (I thought) for spending some time to open an account.  I had thought about it since I moved here and I was told that with my FM3 card I could open one.  One, if I ever needed a large sum of money, it would be difficult (if not impossible) to get it from an ATM machine.  With an open account here, I could have my bank transfer money when (and if) I needed it.

I have also been talking about visiting Cuba.  I really did not want to use a charge or debit card in Cuba that could access what little money have left in the U.S, and I was told they do not like American currency.  Why, I am not sure since the exchange rate is 1000 Cuban pesos per dollar.  I thought with a small account here and carrying some Mexican pesos,  I would be fine, since my friend assured me that it would be quite cheap..

Armed with my passport and FM3 card and my check book from the United States I entered the bank where I use the ATM machine.  That bank is associated with Bank of American so I pay no ATM fee, nor do I pay a conversion fee.  There were at least 5 windows, but everyone was seated in the middle of the room.  There was one young man seated at the only desk in the lobby, but he was on the phone.  I stood in front of him for at least ten minutes and when he refused to acknowledge my presence, I sat at the chair in front of him.  At this point he put the person on hold, so I told him that I wanted to open an account.  He motioned to the group of chairs in the middle of the room and said,  ":Sit down".

  I sat there for a while then realized that everyone was getting a numbers out of a machine by the door.  Numbers were posted on a screen telling you which window to go to.  I got a number and sat down again.  Then I notice that the numbers on the screen were past the number I held in my hand and went back to the man at the desk.  He said, "Sit down!"  Finally my number came up (maybe they run them backwards here).  I went to the window and told the girl I wanted to open an account.  She told me to see the man in the cubicle around the corner.  He too was on the phone.   I sat down and waited while he remained on the phone for another 5 or 10 minutes, then I finally had the opportunity to tell him why I was there,.  He spoke not one word of English, so he called the young man at the first desk.  I was pleased to discover he spoke more that two words,  ("Sit down!") I asked if I could open the account with a check.  No! he said, We do not take checks.  Now I am familiar with paperless banking, but it did seem a little odd.  I asked him how I could get money from a US bank to his bank.  He handed me a paper with the routing number of Morgan Chase in New York.  Well, that is nice I said, but I don't bank with Chase in New York and I would prefer to have an account open before having money transferred.  He said,  "Six thousand Pesos" and proper I.D".  At that point I left went outside to their ATM and drew out 6,000 pesos.  But when I returned someone else was sitting at the desk so I had to wait again.

Finally I got his attention and he took my passport and then he asked for a utility bill.  I have my electric bill at home but not with me.  "We cannot open an account without a utility bill"  Why my passport and residency card (with my photo on it ) from the Mexican government is not enough, no on can explain.  I left to get the electric bill and returned after lunch (I was hungry by then).  Of course everyone was busy with other clients so I had to wait again.  Not to be out maneuvered by someone else, so rather than sit, I stood by his cubicle.  At last he was done, but unfortunately I had not brought the latest electric bill.  After a deep sigh (and a little sobbing)  he brought up my latest bill on his computer.  Then he wanted two references: their name, telephone number, and addresses.  Phone numbers are in my phone, addressed I do not have.  No one here uses addresses as even cab drivers don't know addresses.  Then he said, just put down your address.  Does any of this make any sense to you??

Then he asked me to sign my name.  Not once, not twice, but at least 20 times (sometimes twice on a page and then again on the back)  At last I handed over the signatures and 6,000 pesos and shortly he handed me an ATM card, but said I could not use it for five days (is that 5 working days, or 5 Mexican days?).   I could understand had I given them a check, but I gave them cash!!  Oh, well it is Mexico.

But Wait!!  There is more.  The first young man suddenly rushed over and told me that my signatures did not look like the one in my passport.  I would have to sign them all again.  My hand had already begun to cramp and by this time I was shaking a little,  As carefully as I could I repeated the 20 signatures and explained that the passport was 4 or 5 years old when I wasn't quite so old.  In fact it said,  "I was a young man when I first walked in here"  He said he was satisfied and to come back in five days.  Again I asked about transferring money from my U.S. account and he pointed to Morgan Chase.

Then I found out that my bank in the U.S, will not do international transfers on the internet.  There is no way to initiate a transfer without returning to the U.S.  Oh, well I thought at least I could use it in Cuba.  I asked for the name of a bank I could use in Cuba, but he either did not understand or just decided to ignore me.
I waited for over a week to go back to the bank with several questions.  One, I wanted to know how I could use the card in Cuba and I wanted a debit/charge card with my name on it.  It took an equal amount of time to get someone's attention and he pretended not to understand a word I said.  Finally I found someone who (I think) understood English and was told that the card was of no use in Cuba.  I could not use it at an ATM nor could I book flights or charge with it.  And NO! they do not give out charge cards or debit card with names on it.  I decided that the account was of absolutely no benefit to me and told them I wanted to close the account.  I was told to go outside and use the ATM machine.  Would you believe it was OUT OF ORDER!!   True, I swear I still don't have my money back.  Ahhh Mexico!!

I have since found out that there is one bank here that does issue a charge/debit card that is usable in Cuba both for cash, booking flights to Cuba and for use as a charge card in Cuba.  I have yet to muster up the necessary energy (and patience) to start all over again


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A HOUSE IN BUCERIOS

A young Mexican friend of mine had told me he was building a house in Buscerios for his retirement.  When he offered to show it to me, I eagerly agreed.  I had never been to Buscerios, but had heard that it was a small quaint town half way around the bay from Puerto Vallarta.

Because he was currently living in Nayarite, I told him I would take the bus there to meet him.  He told me to take the blue bus to the Walmart I knew, then change buses to the Nagarite Walmart.   What he failed to tell me was that it was a different bus line and for too long I waited at the wrong bus stop.  Finally I found someone who spoke English and he explained that I had to take the ATM bus to get to Nagarite and that bus stop was a block away.  There is always something new to learn about buses here.

At the second bus stop, I still had trouble finding the right bus that would stop at the other Walmart.  Finally I found a friendly bus driver who told me that he would stop there.  There were the usual hand painted signs on the windshield, but none said "Walmart".  Once I was seated I noticed that there was a printed board behind the driver listing all their stops (of course the sign could only be seen once you were seated).

Due to the confusion I was a little late, so he was already standing beside his shiny pick up truck.  My first thought was that with such a big truck, he could help with my next move.  It was only about a 15 minute drive to the little town of Bucerios, but his home was being built 10 kilometers out side the town (don't ask me how far that is, as I do not know).  We traveled through farm land that reminded me more of Iowa than Mexico as there were acres of corn fields intermixed with cow pastures and some horses.

The new developement where he decided to build is accessable only over dirt roads (he said they would all be paved soon. I wonder by whom).  Just outside the subdivision there are some very large buildings.  I was informed that it was to be a new University, so he is sure the property value would jump in a few years.   The house is quite nice and large, but is currently only a concrete shell.  All the electricity and plumbing is all in place including ducts for air conditioning.  His contractor was just beginning to lay the marble floors in one of the upper bedrooms.  It has three bedrooms and two and one half baths.  Most impressive to me was that he was building an adjacent structure for an apartment and commercial space (there is no zoning here).  You can see the rebar rising on the right side of the house.

The house was quite impressive for any area, let alone Mexico.  I was amazed that this young kid (well, young to me, he is 30 years old) was able to make enough money to build it.  He does work two jobs (one in the afternoon, and one at night) and works 6 days a week.  It has taken almost four years to get it this far, but still I was very impressed.  He claimed to have designed the home including the high ceilings and arch shaped window in the staircase.

After viewing the home and listening to all his plans for it, we went back into town and had lunch at a tiny restaurant near the beach.   I had a huge bowl of cheviche.  It is a very charming town with the traditional zoacalo and gazebo.  The main street leading down to the beach is lined with colorful stands selling everything.  I enjoyed the day and seeing his home and Bucerios, but still don't want to live there.  I like the Zona Romantica.

A LIGHTER NOTE

Having spent months describing my many problems and of the difficulties of living in Mexico, I thought it was time I told you about one of the many things that I love about Mexico.  It is the wonderful Mexican Folk Art.  I have managed to collect a small collection for very little money (need I mention again, that I am cheap!).  Much of it dates back to pre-Hispanic times.  It is illegal to buy actual pre-Columbian artifacts, but there are lots of copies. There is a great  deal of humor in much of their art..  Much of it is primitive, whimsical and colorful.

One of my favorites is the intricate bead work of the Houicho Indians native to this area.  The colorful iguana is an example of that.  The patterns are symbolic to their religion and culture.  Every one is different.
The pottery pot behind is a popular pattern that I have collected a lot of.  The blue dish is also a very common article here.

I love the Mexican hand blown glass wear.  I picked this pattern with the green swirl for the color.  I love the papier mache vegetables and fruit, and of course the wonderful colorful paper flowers.  The blue and white pedestal with the potted philodendron was one of the most expensive of my purchases (still cheap compared to The States) I bought at the tile factory when I was buying the tiles for my kitchen counter.  Hanging on the wall are the brilliantly colored clay peppers.  The carved hanging shelf was about $30.00.

In front of the Aztec Warrior is a papier mache frog,  I love him.  In front of the "fake" pre-Columbian figure is just a carved clay box where I keep my change for buses.  I have several pieces of the hand painted tin art, but I favor the sun.  I also love the clay smiling sun which I surrounded with paper flowers.

For many years I have loved the equipauli furniture.  I had it on my deck in Laguna Beach in 1970.  It is made of pig skin cured in horse urine (you have to leave it outside for several days).  On the wall is an angel made of sun dried clay.  On the table a circle of seven men around a votive candle ( they cost just a few dollars).

I found them all over the town, but most came from one shop next to my favorite coffee shop "A Page in the Sun".  The owner sits at the back bent over his computer, he never looks up (he is probably on FaceBook) He has never greeted me or ever recognized me in the dozens of times I have shopped there.  I now demand and get a 10% discount, but he still will not acknowledge my presence in the shop.  Mexicans are really the worst business men in the world.  Just really don't care.  Amazing!! But, it is Mexico.

Truly there are many things about living in Mexico that I enjoy. However I still cannot tolerate the hot chili sauces, nor can I down a shot of Tequila and the Mexicans inability to tell time drives me crazy.  You didn't really think I could finish an entire postings without complaining about something.  Did you?

Don't expect any posts for a few weeks, as I will be in California.

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OLAS ALTAS

Olas Altas (which translates to High Waves) is not really like the Malecon.  It only runs for about seven blocks and is one block above the shore line.  It is a great deal more than a wide sidewalk as it is a heavily traveled street as it is the main artery to the South end of Zona Romantica.  The similarity is that it is a favorite of high spending tourists.  Many of the best shops and restaurant line the street or are just off Olas Altas.  It has another similarity in that the City decided to rip it up in the middle of the "High Season".

Half of the tourist will be gone in a few weeks and the rains don't start for months yet.  In spite of vocal protests by all the merchants, they began near Plaza Cardenas.  One might think that they would do it one block at a time.  No,  over half of the sidewalks are gone, and not just on one side.  Using Mexican logic (an oxymoron) they tore up both sides at once, leaving pedestrians to attempt to navigate the cobble stone street covered with rubbble and all the cars, buses and trucks.  Many business have had to close for a month, or try to lure customers with tables and chairs balanced on plywood planks covering huge holes.  The "new" coffee shop where my old favorite used to be, spent a fortune on the remodel.  The inside was covered in marble and granite and a huge wrap around wrought iron railing and awning was installed.  All the wrought iron was torn down and the business closed.  Don't fell too sorry as the rumor is that it was built with "laundry money".

If the above isn't absurd enough, they began the project just two days before Mardi Gras.  The parade travels down Olas Altas and ends at Pulpitos.  Half the town turns out to watch the parade which consists mainly of people in costumes (and in drag) in the back of pick up trucks, covered with balloons and crepe paper. .  Anyone wanting to see the parade had to stand on the rubble or try to balance themselves on plywood planks   All the City had to do was to wait unitl Monday, but "NO".  The project must go on.

The reason for all the new sidewalks is obvious to anyone who has tried to navigate the old cracked, pot hole ridden sidewalks, with multiple level changes.  But that was not the real reason.  The City is trying to put all the electricity underground.  A great idea if it worked.  Now that almost half of Zona Romantica has new sidewalks with underground cables.  You can see all the colorful hoses coming up out of the concrete.  However, all the wires and poles (with attached cables) are still up.  Why? you might ask.  Well now that the City has spent tens of millions laying all the underground cables, it is up to the individual property owners to pay for the connection, and none of them will.

My bridge partner's wife is in charge of the installation of all the planters along the new sidewalk.  The Garden Club planted them and luckily maintains them.  I noticed that the trees planted along Badillo last year were growing up into the electric wires.  I was afraid that the City would come by and chop them down.  When the City tree trimmers arrive, they come with chain saws and often cut the trees down to a stump.  She told me that when they planted the trees they were told that the wires would be gone by last June.  She assured me that her team would carefully trim the trees as the wires may never be removed..

The other day I passed a group of men digging up a street.  They were having some sort of augment with a man carrying a map.  Much shouting and hand waving, so I asked an English speaking Mexican what was going on.  It seems that the supervisor was telling the men digging up the street that they were in the wrong location.  Never mind, they had their job to do and they were going to do it, even if it was the wrong location.  AHHH Mexico.!

Just a block off Olas Altas they have been building the new pier (for TWO YEARS!)  There is nothing to show for it but a few pilings sunk in the water (all at different heights).  The other day I walked down to check on it and noticed a sign warning of electric shock from high voltage wires.  Then I noticed the cables running into the ocean.  I had no intention of climbing over the chain link fence to get to the construction site, but wondered about the safety of even going into the water.

I would love to send you photos of the  new pier and the street with all the trees and planters in, and the wires all underground, but I don't think I will live long enough.

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AMERICANO ENOJADO

You think you are tired of hearing about my electric problems?  Well think I feel about living with them.  I know this is Mexico and you have to learn to go with the flow or you get swallowed by the tide.  But my patience has limits.

It isn't every morning, just about once or twice a week I awake to no electricity.  This has been going on for about six weeks.   At first I ran down to Jose and had him call the electric company.  It was the same each time.  "If" they send someone out, by the time they got here, the electricity was back on.  Every time they say there is "no problemo".  You see most people in Mexico don't get up as early as I do, so no electricity until 8:30 or 9:00 isn't a problem. 

A few days ago I awoke again to no electricity.  It is still dark when I get up and no way to make my coffee which I needed desperately.   I ran downstairs to Jose.  He just laughed.  You see the Mexicans are a very "happy go lucky" group of people.  Everything is funny and they laugh all the time.  I was not amused!  Jose told me that the electricity goes off between 3:00 and 4:00am.  How would "he" know when "my" electricity goes off?   Well it is because he uses my electricity.  He came to me one day and told me that he was having trouble getting electricity in his name.  Exactly why, I do not know.  He speaks perfect English but for some reason was unable to explain to me what his problem was.  I was assured it would only be for a few weeks (it has been over a month).  So he ran a very long extension cord out my kitchen window and down the light well to his place.

Once more he called and it was the same.  They fill out a report and give him the number of the report.  My electric bill is now covered with such numbers.  As usual the electricity came back on some time after dawn  I told Jose to ask for a new meter.  He was informed that since the meter was not broken, I could not get a new one.  That is when I came up with the "brilliant idea" to take a sledge hammer to the meter.  They want a broken meter, they are going to get one!  I realized there were some flaws to this idea.  If I was caught I could be fined, or worse taken to jail.  At the very least I would have to pay for a new meter.  So I decided to ask Jose to do it for me.  Well, he does speak better Spanish; he is a "smooth talker", and he could do it at 5:00am when no one was around and he is using my electricity.   He said he would take a rock to it the following day.

Then, I thought again and decided to call my own electrician first and told Jose to hold off for a few days.  I had no idea what an electrician could do, but maybe I could get some better answers.  The very day the electrician was to show up. it happened again. I knew the number to call and my Spanish is getting better so I decided it was time they heard from an Angry American (Americano enojado). It is the same here as in the States when you call any company.  You get a recording that asks to to push a number for what ever problem you think you have.  I could not understand all they said, so I just kept pushing numbers until I got a live person. 

As far as I know I am the only one in the building with this problem, but since none of my neighbors are up before 8:30 or 9:00, we are not sure  (no one in Mexico has a clock, so there is nothing to stop running)
The stair lights are still on.  Thank God, for I am sure I would have broken my neck falling down the stone and concrete steps.  Since it was too dark in my apartment to read the numbers on my bill, I had to stand in the hall.  Of course I was screaming.  I must admit this gave me a little bit of satisfaction for I knew my neighbors were still asleep and felt it was pay back for all their late night parties that keep me up.

The first person did speak some English but when he asked if I had filled out a report, I began to scream at him  I have the numbers of 6 reports that have been filled out.  He hung up (at least we were some how disconnected)  I called back using the same technique to get a live person.  This one spoke no English which caused me to scream even louder.  No matter how many time I told her (in Spanish) that I could not understand her, she continued in Spanish.  I gave up and hung up and called again.  This time I did get someone who spoke some English.  I don't know if it was my poor Spanish, or her lack of understanding English, but when I read off the number on my bill.  She said, " Oh, you live in Guadalajara!"   I was already angry and frustrated, but remembering the man who hung up on me, I tried not to totally lose it.

We finally got the correct information and she gave me the number of yet another report.  I told her that this did no good.  She must have understood my frustration and promised me that someone would be there today and would call me.  No one did call, but to my amazement but when i was coming back from my coffee house on my way to Spanish, there was an electric truck.  One of the men did speak English.  I didn't go so far as to tell him that if it wasn't fixed, I would break the meter with a rock (well, Jose would).  But I did insist that something was wrong with my meter.  He finally agreed and gave me a new meter.  The electrician arrived shortly afterward and told me that the meter they took out was a newer, but flawed meter and the old larger one they put in was much better.  They think that there is some sort of electric surge early in the morning and the new meters are set to shut down, to prevent overloading.   We will see.

I did have a few electric problems (out side of no electricity in the morning).  First I could not get the light over the stove to work.  Some superglue fixed that.  The light in the hall that kept going on and off wasn't screwed in tight enough.  There was nothing he could do about replacing my bathroom light because the hole behind it is square and too large for the fixture I bought.  It never ends here.  Do I still love living here?  Yes, I do!  Where else could I get so much fodder for my blog???

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ALL ABOUT BUSES

Yes, it has been a while and I know you have missed me.  It was not just because I am lazy and running out of topics, but because I had a problem with my computer.  One day I must do a post on "computer speak in Spanish"  It is not easy.  Most of my computer is in English, but when ever a problem (or a pop up) appears, it is in Spanish.  I, of course have no clue.  My computer guru came here this morning (luckily the electricity was on) to fix some of my problems.  The problem with my blog was that Internet Explorer would no longer support the system, so he said he had to try a new server and switched me to Fire Fox.  Do I understand what I just said?  NO!!

Okay, back to buses.  Yes  I wrote about them last year, but I don't remember what I said so I am counting on you not remembering either.  Plus, after over one year of living here, I think I now know all you need to know about buses.  Notice I said "NEED TO KNOW"  For there are always situations here that simply defy explanation.  Of course living over a major bus stop has helped expand my knowledge as well.


First you must learn the colors.  The blue and the green buses go North, the orange buses go South.  But the buses go by different routes.  There are also white buses that travel inland to various small towns and special destinations, like the Botanical Gardens, most of them are marked. For these buses you must buy a ticket sold at a few of the local tiendas (small corner grocery stores).  In order to travel long distances by bus you must go to the main bus depot past the airport.  There are roll up signs above the windshields that indicate the last stop.  You need not pay much attention to them, because they don't tell you how they get there or where they stop (besides sometimes they forget to roll over the sign when they change directions).  You have to read the hand written signs scribbled on the windshield for the stops.  This can be a problem for someone with bad eye sight for by the time you can figure out what the sign says, the bus has passed by.  You must hold up your arm and wave to get them to stop.  Just because it is a regular bus stop where you are standing they won't stop unless they are dropping someone off.  There is another reason it is hard to read the signs for Costco is spelled Cotsco.  They pronounce it that way so they spell it that way.  The North bound buses have a sort of card placed at the bottom of the windshield that says, "Centro" or "Tunel"  I always try to get the "Tunel" bus for it avoids the heavy traffic from tourist in the center of town.

These are just the municipal buses, which number about 500.  There are also tour buses, buses from the ocean liners, and special tour buses.  Most of them are large air conditioned buses some with bath rooms.  They bare absolutely no resemblance to the municipal buses.  There is one little open air tour bus that sort of resembles a San Francisco trolley on rubber wheels (not sure who runs that, nor have I ever gotten on board)..  Our mayor who has been on an amazing building spree now says they will move City Hall and all municipal and federal offices out of town.  The idea is to reduce the number of buses running through the center of town.   Who know?

Never be the last to board because the bus will take off as soon as you put one foot on the stairs.  I have been known to shove old women and children out of the way.  You should also have the correct change because you want to get to your seat as soon as possible.  The buses take off at such speeds you can be thrown to the back of the bus.  They also rarely close the doors, so you don't want to be anywhere near an open door once the bus takes off.   I found that sitting in the middle is best for avoiding being bounced off your seat when they speed over the speed bumps.  Why they bother with the speed bumps, I do not know and it isn't just one, but a series of four or five.  I hold on for dear life even after I am seated.

Exactly why the buses travel at such speeds, racing against one another is unknown.  I have been told that more people are killed in Mexico by buses than cars (let alone blown away by drug lords).  Not that I have ever witnessed any of the above, but that is what I heard.  All the municipal buses are in horrible condition.  There are broken seats and windows, holes in the floor, and none have shock absorbers.  Most of them also have failing brakes.  You can hear the brakes scream in agony ever time he pushes on the brake peddle.  Sometimes they break down totally.  This happened to me one day coming back from Walmart.  The bus just stopped in the middle of a major highway.  After some chattering in Spanish, people started to get off the bus.  I was pretty sure this was not a fire drill, so I got off too.  I think that because of the confused look on my face someone told me not to worry for the driver was flagging down another bus and we could get on without paying an additional fare.  AN ADDITIONAL FARE??  We were standing in the middle of a Mexican freeway.  It was a horrifying experience

Why do I subject myself to this kind of torture?  Well, they are cheap!  You can go from one end of town to the other for 6.5 pesos (about 5 cents).  A longer trip to say Mismaloya is 7 pesos.  Cab fare from Costco or Walmart is 60 to 80 pesos.  Let's face it I am cheap.  This did not work out for me one day.  I managed to get 8 bottles of cheap wine in my back pack.  It was heavy but I was sure I could manage on the bus. To my dismay, I got one of the Indy 500 drivers.  He raced down the streets trying to pass other buses so closely I was sure they would lock rear view mirrors.  I don't know what he was late for, but I was not sure I would even arrive at all.  Then we hit a large bump, my back pack jumped off the seat and onto the floor.  I lost two bottles of wine (twice the price of a cab).  Wine was swirling all over the floor as the bus careened through the tunnel at unbelievable speeds.  I knew just how Princess Diana felt when she entered the tunnel under The Pont Alma in Paris. But, I didn't have far to go before I carried my dripping back pack off the bus, just glad to still be alive.

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