Sorry for the bombardment of messages, but if I don’t try to finish, I will be back stateside before I even get to Ensenada, so pressing on…

On Sunday (a week and two days ago), I went to church with Adriana, her family,  and the new friends I’d made at the Vacation Bible school. After that, Adriana, her love interest Israel, her mom, her friend, her mom’s friend, and I, piled into the family van to head to Mexico City. It wound up being a more memorable trip than I was expecting. We were cruising down the middle lane highway at about 80 km/hr chatting with each other; only perhaps half of us had seatbelts on. (Yes, I know…very dumb move.) All of a sudden, a blue pickup truck pulled on to the highway, cut across the far left lane, and placed itself squarely in front of us going maybe 10 or 15 km/hr. We had about a second to try to react and then we hit. Airbags deployed. People screamed. We came to a very sudden halt in the far right lane. Honestly, I don’t know why anyone wasn’t hurt or killed. We should have been. The front end of the van was completely smashed and the front bumper was ripped off. However, all we had to show for it was a few bruises, strained muscles, and greatly elevated adrenaline. I guess someone back home must have been praying. 

However, once I adjusted to the shocking realities that 1, we very easily could have been dead, and 2, we weren’t, I tried to assess the situation. The police and an ambulance were called. The blue pickup had had its back smashed pretty thoroughly, but once the occupant realized it was still drivable, he tried to make a getaway. Fortunately, he had a flat tire from all the adventure, and didn’t make it very far before the Federales caught up with him. However, it was with the arrival of the police that I was introduced to some more of the cultural differences between the north and south of the border. 

The Federales showed up in true Mexican style: four 20-something men in dressed chamo in the open bed of a 4×4 pickup, all brandishing fully automatic and relatively high-calibre weapons. After stopping by the destroyed van for a minute or two, they made their way about a half km up the road were the blue pickup was stopped. After making sure that everything was okay with the people still at the van, I walked up the road to see what the situation was up there. The driver of the blue pickup had no license. For that matter, he had no identification whatsoever. He did, however, have eyes that were somewhat bloodshot. Now, stateside, of course, first course of action would have been to give him a breathalizer and then put him in handcuffs for at least two (and possibly three) reasons: driving without a license; hit and run; and (quite possibly) driving under the influence. However, the perp consistently maintained that the accident wasn’t his fault, and after briefly questioning him, the Federales told us that they couldn’t take sides in this matter and we should try to come to some sort of an agreement with him ourselves. Unless, of course, we wanted to try and fight our way through the Mexican justice system (which is every bit as just and efficient as it is reputed to be).  I’m not entirely sure why they were there at all, unless it was just because they needed a new place to show their guns off. Now, neither vehicle was insured, so I’m not sure what the next step is for Adriana’s mom. Still, there are certainly some things that I unquestionably prefer about my country. 

Finally the tow trucks came (along with a number of people from the church), the vehicles were hauled away, and everyone made it back home. After all this adventure, I expected to postpone my trip to Mexico City for at least a day; however, they insisted on dropping me by a bus terminal to finish the trip. So, with a few more bruises and adventures, I arrived safely in Mexico City little the worse for wear and only about three hours behind schedule. At the bus terminal, I met up with Arturo (basically, my Mexican big brother), his wife, Vanessa, and their two daughters, Mikela (3) and Ioanna (10 months). I had first gotten to know them last year, when we had been staying at the rehab center in Mexico City during outreach, and even though we were only together for a few weeks, we really connected. So, after an eventful day, we got back to their apartment, inflated the air mattress, and said good night. 

It should be noted that both Mikela and Ioanna (“Yoyo”) are two of the most adorable girls on the face of the planet. However, the last time I had seen Miki, she had just turned two, and Ioanna was still a sizable bump on her mother’s tummy. Now Miki is talking non-stop and evidently alerted the entire bus terminal when she heard that I was going to arrive. As soon as we got back to her house, she insisted that she wanted to play. Her favorite game (which she found endlessly entertaining) was to look up at the ceiling, scream loudly, and then laugh hysterically as I was “startled.” Oh, to be young again, and so easily entertained…

The next day, Vanessa, Miki, and I took a bit of a walking tour of Mexico City, a the Museum of Anthropology, a late lunch of posole with Arturo, and then finally a return back home for a late dinner of Spaghetti. On the whole, my visit to Mexico City was by far the most relaxing part of my trip (thus far, at least). It’s strange how fast you can come to feel like family. And when you have family, anywhere can feel like home.