Heading Home

When you picture someone in P.V. your mind probably conjures up the hotels along the beach.  Or, it drifts to the high rises and condos near the waters edge or clinging to the sides of the mountains that surround the place.  These places are full of people on holidays.  They are taking time from their ‘real’ life, and just hanging out.. drinking in the view as they sip on a ‘cervasa’ or margarita.

 I don’t live there.

When I decided to spend time here, it was because I literally didn’t have anywhere else to go.  With no job or any idea on what I want to do next, I started looking for cheap, warm places.  I needed somewhere I could just hang for a bit without the commitment of a long-term lease or a work commitment.  Unbeknownst to my siblings, (yes… they have gotten under my skin) I take my responsibilities very seriously, and.. I seriously don’t want any right now. 

So, I took on a really small, I guess what they would call a ‘studio’, suite here in PV.  But ‘studio’ implies something holidayish.. I don’t live there either. If you have been to Mexico (or even the Middle East or asia..) you have seen the parts of town where there are rows and rows of cement walls with the occasional metal residential or garage-like door.  Narrow, often broken sidewalks take you there.  I live behind one of those doors.

Taking the garbage out means taking your little bag to the corner and leaving it on the sidewalk.. where it joins other bags and is hopefully gathered up before the dogs get it.

There is no deck, no view.. I open the metal door and walk into, basically a car park.  There is construction next door.  A family upstairs with a little boy.  We could share the rooftop where you can look around a bit at the city, but the sweltering heat and humidity don’t let me stay up there longer than it takes to wade through the toys and ‘stuff’ and put my clothes on the shared clothes line.   It really isn’t much except clean, and safe and cheap.

It is costing me $300 a month… plus electricity. I agreed to three months, thinking that even if I didn’t stay at the place for more than three days it was a bargain.  And it has been good.  But, when I heard Wendy was in Guadalajara and leaving in a couple of weeks, I decided to go for a visit. 

Wendy is the lady that took care of my back whenever I was in Madeira Park.  We often chatted about her place in Mexico during the treatments.  She was in love with it and I just wanted to share the experience with her.  Go up for the weekend, take a look around and then maybe go back to PV and possibly even buy a place of my own. 

I took a bus from PV to Guadalajara; it takes about five hours right now.   There is talk of a more direct route being built, but.. not yet.  We went north, through the state of Nayarit and then curved back into Jalisco.  At first, as we headed north, we drove through the congestion that most cities have on the outskirts.: little shops and restaurants; construction supply places.  Then things opened up a bit and we flew past small agricultural fields with small tents and chairs set up along the highway where people could stop and get a small drink and buy whatever they were growing, or making on the day. 

As we got further along, off the beach and into the mountains, the evidence of people was replaced by jungle and the small towns along the narrow, very windy road announced themselves with a ‘tope’ or speed-bump.  The bus had to slow down..  Which was great, because it allowed me to see the art.

All that ‘stuff’ that the tourists buy from the beach sellers or in the shops, have to be produced somewhere.  And a lot of it, if it isn’t made in China, is made in these small towns.  I saw huge gleaming copper pots and bowls.  Loads of woodwork, mainly furniture as I caught glimpses inside small concrete buildings.  There is Pottery and Tapestries. 

And by the time I did finally end up in one of the two (the wrong one of course) bus stations in Guadalajara, I had a good idea of where I was. 

I was getting close to a part of Mexico that I want to be a part of.