Monday, February 6, 2012
Mexico Day 1
Adriana picked me up from the airport with sad news that her best friends father died. I had a premonition that something of that nature would happen and that I should prepare for it with proper funeral clothing. I won't have to go. Maybe it's just a coincedence that this news should come on the same day of my fathers anniversary of his death.
I forgot to tell Adriana that durning my lay over in Washington I met an 82 year old women with a Chupug (half pug half chuaha). She was having problems pulling the dogs crate (on wheels) off the shuttle train. Poor Mikey tipped over twice and so I didn't hesitate to carry her dog for her. I called for a wheelchair because i could see in her eyes that she wasn't prepared to walk to terminal 32 we were at term 16 - my terminal. I refused her $20 offering out of a childhood habit but immediately questioned my decisions. It was too late. I sat with her for 10 minutes and found out she's German from Berlin, lost her husband 6 years ago, is from Boston, has two sons one in Florida and one in Virginia but has decided warmer weather is better for her and Mikey. She worked on a military base in 1946 as did other woman during the war. She's was shy but had an honest smile. I double checked the wheelchair status then said goodbye.
The plane ride was delightful in that I snuck ahead two rows to 3 empty seats not knowing it was economy" plus". Fortunately for American racism the stewardess only questioned the Mexicans' tickets and assumed I was in my proper seat. I joked about this with Adriana. I made eye contact on every interaction with the stewardesses so as not to raise any suspicion that I didn't belong. I waited to put my feet up till I was confident I would not be harassed and asked to awkwardly move back. I came up with a couple excuses to not show my ticket. I decided on "Sorry I used it to spit out my gum." I'm glad I don't know the results of that decision.
After two episodes of xfiles I decided to take a nap and woke within 20 minutes before landing to a violent lightening storm in the distance. I couldn't help thinking it was a sign of the spiritual electricity I hope to uncover here. It was instead a sign that my cardboard box of luggage separated in Toronto by Jessica and I would arrive to Mexico open, wet and grinning back at me from the slowly approaching conveyor belt. A young mexican boy approached me and began to explain the situation for 5 seconds before i changed my blank facial expression to "No hablo espanol." Through a game of charades he assured me that he put my things back as they were scattered around the cargo. All shoes accounted for. The situation was completely out of my control and so onward I went to inspection.
"Signore! Please push the button."
GREEN! Thank God!
Adriana and I sat in the kitchen talking and drinking whiskey that wasn't ours. I looked for food and continued our quick catchup that started in the car ride. I periodically finish my banter with,
"I just cant believe im here, im just so happy right now."
The place I'm staying is beautiful and I can't help but feel undeserving of such an offering from my friends. I have my own room with beautiful window light, a low mattress and closet fit for girl - who could ask for more.
I bid Adriana adieu and relish in the empty apartment that's mine for the night and full day tomorrow. My roommates are away for the evening and I'm free at last.
Today, Monday February 6th is a holiday and the park is filled with dogs. Can this be? Could I be in the epicenter of Mexicos dog hub. What's that in the distance, multiple dog trainers and dog walkers? Do my eyes decieve me or do I live directly beside a man made dog jungle of wet smiles and frantic, unstoppable play time? I'll just sit here for a while and .... OMG IS THAT A SONNY?!
I look around and all I see are the best looking and best trained dogs I've ever seen walking in complete unleashed synergy beside their owners. A black lab walks proudly beside his owners bicycle. Saint Bernards, bernese mountain dogs, old English bulldogs, pugs, shepards, great Danes, italian greyhounds, Pomeranians, and even stupid white fluff balls, the list goes on. They're all lined up like soldiers waiting for their leaders command. Non of which are nutered and yet no aggression, no competition, no fights. I have an epiphany. I decide to move on and come across a pond of dogs. Did you hear me? I said a POND OF PLAYING DOGS! Was I dreaming? This can't be real. I cross the bridge and take another photo as the water glistens off the wet fur that's back lit by the morning sun. I keep moving. But wait....what's this??? It seems as though i've stumbled upon yet another courtyard of four legged furry friends. My friends weren't kidding when they told me "This is the part of town for you Franco!" They referring to my safely me referring to Sonny withdrawal.
This dog piazza, if I may, is less chaotic and feels like a good place to settle down and open my book, but I'm distracted by this one dog in particular. I notice it's a Mexican water dog - pitch black and hairless like a creature from a fairy tale. I've always wanted to meet one. He's a social butterfly with everyone but me. The only dog that approaches me is this beautiful black Italian greyhound. He's a puppy named Mikel.
I hear a women scream as if she lost her child. There's a commotion and I see the owner of the fairytale creature running to the street. It's obvious what happened, the creature must have ran into the road. Onlookers gather and my curiously is burning but the creature and the women are blocked by a beautiful cement wall thats covered in cracks and remnants of a beautiful mural that's been tarnished by rain and graffiti. I notice the woman's head poke above the wall and as she slowly makes her way back to the courtyard. The chain in her hand slowly reveals her dog with a subtle limp yet mostly unscathed by the near death experience.
This is enough excitement for one morning. I head back to Amsterdam Street and begin to write as I wait for Adriana to reveal my day.