Blue agave plants, which look like large spiky aloe plants, grow in long rows of light green/blue bunches. Apparently, the plants grow for about 8 years before they are uprooted, revealing a ball about the size of a beach ball, which is then opened, cooked, drained and fermented, yielding the pungent, detestable liquor known as tequila that is thankfully moderated by the lime that inevitably follows. The story of the discovery of tequila is said to have occurred thousands of years ago with the ancient tribes seeing a lightning bolt strike the agave plant, opening up and cooking the roots and thus creating the liquid treat that they viewed as a gift from the gods. If I were receiving a gift from the gods, I'd probably ask for something a bit more tasty, but I guess they couldn't afford to be choosy. Anyway, the rows of plants along the road form nice symmetrical lines. In fact, we even passed through the town of Tequila just an hour or so outside of Guadalajara. Upon arriving in the massive bus terminal in the city of about 4 million people, I transferred to a smaller bus and ended up getting to my hotel late that afternoon. As usual, the hotel wasn't in the nicest part of town, and it was nothing to marvel over, but it was just a few blocks from the plazas, cathedrals, and main attractions of the city. The twin steepled cathedral is the symbol of the town and similarly named state, so that was my first destination. Along the way, I passed through much of the beautiful Spanish architecture, stone buildings, wide pedestrian plazas and such that were constructed after the Spanish took over the country in the 1500s and 1600s. Now, I'm not condoning the raping and pillaging of ancient cultures, but the colonial cities and structures constructed by the Spanish during those times still remain quite impressive.
Also along the way, I found lines and lines of street vendors, selling similar items as in previous cities, yet I still find myself drawn to these areas. I also looked for a long time for iPod chargers, hoping to fix my defunct buddy, but I was being run around in circles as each vendor recommended a different place to try. After about 30 minutes, I finally did find a charger, hoping that mine had broken and thinking I might be able to come up with some sort of fix. Of course, many attempts and reading any and every piece of advice on apple.com (thanks to some great research by Marcelle) left me with nothing but frustration. Giving up for a while, I ventured back out into the plazas, experiencing the pounding drums and sounds of the musical wooden anklets worn by a huge group of 30 or 40 dancers in a large circle that attracted a large crowd to see the traditional dances, or perhaps they were just drawn in by the loin cloths and shirtless men. For my second day in the city, I decided to take a bus tour of the city to learn more about the history and numerous buildings that had impressed me. The double decker bus had headphones, and we meandered around the city, learning the history of their independence, seeing the statues to the valiant soldiers and passing by the world's largest market, a three story sprawling building full of vendors that I somehow managed to avoid. Passing through an Americanized shopping mall during the tour, I noticed an all-too familiar logo on one of the shops - the Apple logo that now occupies the screen of my iPod. The bus tour continued, but I studied the maps and found that I could get off and walk back to that store fairly easily, hoping that they would have some answers for me. I entered the store and tried to explain my problems, realizing that I don't know all of the technological terms for things like iPods in Spanish, but I did alright, and the store clerk said they'd take a look at it. It would be about $60 just to look at it, though they couldn't promise anything. After some debate, I decided to leave it with them, planning to return at 9 the next morning to pick it up, just before leaving town. Right as I was about to leave, the clerk unfortunately notified me that the technician had just left for the day, so he wouldn't have a chance to diagnose my mp3 player. In addition, since the following day was Sunday, they wouldn't actually open until 11 am, which wouldn't work for me. I lamented that I wouldn't have the time to wait for it and mentioned that I had to leave soon, since I'd be going to the soccer match that night, which was only an hour or two away. Then, the store clerk came up with a great idea. He told me that he only lived about 7 blocks from the stadium, so he'd work on it, making sure not to delete the music, and then he could bring it to me after the game. Since I don't have any cell phone, he gave me his home, cell and work number, his name (Jonathan - pronounced Yonathan), and we planned to meet up after the game, hopefully with a working iPod. I felt like I could trust him, so I left the iPod in his hands and made my way back.
Realizing that time was actually catching up to me, I sprinted back to the bus stop, hoping to catch my tourist bus back on its next round, but I missed it by just a minute or two after running about a mile and a half through the streets of town with my backpack. After missing the bus, I knew I had to hurry, so I wiped off the sweat and found a taxi back to my hotel, where I dropped off a few things and then jumped on the next bus to the stadium. I was going to see the soccer match between Chivas and Necaxa, Chivas being one of the most beloved and well-known of all Mexican club teams, so I was really excited to see the game. The passion for the sport here in Latin America is unbelievable, and I was so happy to have the chance to see one of the premier teams playing that night. Arriving on the bus, I stepped out into a see of red and white striped shirts, cheers and smells of fresh food. I couldn't resist one of the taco stands, in which they had a large grill in the center, surrounded by assorted types of meat, each separated by a large sausage. After specifying the type of meat, they scraped some onto the hot part of the grill, threw in a few tortillas and soon there was fresh tacos waiting for you, along with the bowls of salsa, onions, cilantro, guacamole, etc for toppings. The steak tacos were incredible, and I ended up having four of them before heading into the match.
Once in the stadium, I had general admission seats in a great section right at half-field. The problem was that the seats were all blocked with police tape, though that didn't seem to bother most people who simply ripped through the tape, so I did the same. Eventually I was greeted by one of the ushers who told us that despite our tickets, we'd have to be a member of the fan club to sit in this area. However, since I was alone, he found an open seat for me about six rows up from the field, so I was very happy with that. A disgruntled fan nearby decided to loudly complain to anyone willing to listen, refusing to move from his seat after saying that his ticket entitled him to that spot, and the only thing that was going to move him was a policeman. Eventually, after arguing, yelling and a bit of pushing, a policeman did come, and they agreed on a decent spot nearby. The whole time, I listened, though pretended to be the oblivious gringo, hoping that they weren't going to move me again, and the belligerent fan pointed to each one of us, assuring the officers that we all had the exact same tickets. Eventually, the drama was over, and the crowd's chants and drum beats began as the game kicked off. The unusually high scoring match started off quickly with three goals in the first 30 minutes. The game continued with a fast pace, eventually resulting in a red card, more goals, a saved penalty kick and an impressive 5-1 scoreline for the home team. The atmosphere was incredible, with the true supporters standing behind the goal, singing, chanting and dancing non-stop through the entire match. As the game ended, I thought again of my iPod and hoped that I'd be able to reach my new friend, hoping that my trust was well-founded.
I found a nearby payphone and called Jonathan as the fans poured out of the stadium. He was just leaving work and told me that he'd be there in a few minutes, meeting me at the corner of the main road and the South end of the stadium. As I watched more and more people pass by, time passed slowly, and I realized that I probably couldn't even describe the guy that I was looking for. I knew I'd recognize him, but I definitely couldn't have made out a description for someone else. Minutes continued passing, and I wasn't yet worried, but a tiny bit of fear did start to creep into my mind. What if he wasn't going to show up? What would I do then? After about 50 minutes, I called him back, and he apologized and said the buses were running behind, and he said he'd once again be there soon. Now, the problem with this is partly due to Latin American modes of communication. Often, when they say just a second, it can mean much more than that, certainly not being bound by American standards of punctuality. Anyway, I felt like I had a safe spot on the dark corner to wait, as the fans were almost gone, but I was waiting right in front of a police car, watching the vendors take down their stalls and turn out the lights for the night. Unfortunately, my police escort didn't last, and a few shady looking guys came by from time to time, but the time passed without incident. Finally, about an hour after the game had ended, I saw Jonathan and a friend round the corner. He told me about everything he had tried, going through so many different possibilities. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to get it working again, but I was so appreciative that he had tried so much to help me. So, despite not working, I had agreed to pay the $60, so I asked him how much I owed, hoping he'd give me a bit of a discount. With a smile, he responded that I didn't owe him anything. The generosity and friendliness of some of the people that I've met has been amazing, going out of their way to talk to me, share stories and help me out has been wonderful. He had tried so much and had even come to meet me on a random street corner, and he wasn't even asking for a dime in return. I thanked him many times, and then we were on our way. I caught the late night bus home, hurried back through the dark, mostly empty streets of the town and thankfully made it back safely to my hotel room about 11 that night.
My quick stay in Guadalajara would be over early the next morning, as I was heading further towards the center of the country to another colonial gem called Guanajuato.
(The main cathedral of Guadalajara in late afternoon)
(The taco stand with the assortment of meats and toppings...mmmmm)
(A view of the match from my seat. The stadium holds about 60,000 though there were probably only about 35,000 at my match.)
(The rowdy fans behind the goal, waving flags and singing songs)
(A night view of one of the museums in the central plaza)
(More plazas and Spanish architecture. This stuff is everywhere.)
(A circular, pillared monument to some of the important people of the area.)
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