2003-07-28 - 2:54 p.m.
I got to Zacatecas at 8 in the morning. It was cool and clear and beautiful. I think the light was golden but it is really hard to say because just stepping out of the bus after 8 hours was heavenly, an incredible blessing. And, having come from a place where each summer day begins in the 4th circle of Hell and works its way down, I was, como se dice 'pleased as punch' to zip up my jacket.
Not much to say about the city. It is nice. Clean. 'Colonial.' In other words, vaguely European. Sculptured gardens, cobblestone streets, plazas with fountains and pidgeons, arches, a cathedral with an elaborately carved facade. It has some really great modern art museums. In the rain, you might think you were in Spain.
The city is sort of poured into a dip between two peaks. Really high up. So from the terrace of the hostel, the horizon is about half a mile away in any direction. At night, it looks like little golden glowing fairies are hovering around you.
I know, I´m a dork.
But when the sun comes out and you wake up at 7 am because some guy in a truck with a PA on its roof is rolling through the streets hollering 'GAS!' and blasting noxious tunes at you. And there are kids everywhere, chasing balls, birds, each other, whatever. Everybody seems to be eating ice cream. There's a little white table full of sweets on every corner and a 5 piece brass band is leading tipsy rich ladies in a dance through the streets. Dads are carrying babies and babies are buried in blankets ...
... there's much missing here but you get the idea for now ...
You know you are in Mexico.
