Visit to Guanajuato

A week ago today was my last day of work at Harmon Hall, the language institute I've been working at during the previous months. I will be leaving the city of Guadalajara in a little more than a week, but before leaving, I decided to take a trip to one of Mexico's most prized possessions; a colonial town nestled in the mountains in central Mexico. The city, founded in 1554, played an important role in the independence of Mexico as it was the birthplace of the movement. At one time, it was home to Miguel Hidalgo as well as the famous artist Diego Rivera. If one desires to visit Mexico for the purpose of its culture, Guanajuato is unmistakably a center point.

"Un boleto a Guanajuato por favor." I had arrived to the Central Camionera fifteen minutes before the next departure to Guanajuato and full of excitement, I boarded the Primera Plus bus headed for the state of Guanajuato. Three short hours later we arrived in, what I thought was my destination. We were in Guanajuato alright, but not in the city of Guanajuato. Unknowingly, I marched myself downtown and began looking for a hostel. Unbeknownst to me, I spent two hours wondering the city of León, asking everyone where one could find a hostel or "Mercado Hidaldo." I couldn't figure out why everyone had raved about the beauty of this city, it was actually quite ugly. It wasn't until several blank stares later that I decided I had better buy a map. Luckily, before I purchased the map, I read the cover..."Mapa de León, Guanajuato." SHIT! Frustrated and sweaty, I marched myself back to the bus station, and boarded the next bus to the city of Guanajuato.

Finally, I arrived in Guanajuato. The city bus I had taken from the bus station winded and curved, hugging the rocky sides of the bronze hills that compliments Guanajuato's beauty. The bus passed through several tunnels, in fact, most of Guanajuato's main streets run underneath the city in tunnels with rock walls and arched entry and exit ways. I got down near the center of the city and began to explore. Quickly, I had tracked down the hostel, dropped my bag off and headed out toward the city. Walking through Guanajuato's streets feels almost like a maze, narrow streets and high walls decide your direction. The colors of the city wee incredible. Most of the homes edge the hillside that surrounds the city center. Bright colors reflect the sunlit homes that scale up the mountain side, seemingly defying physics or just ignorant to the power of mother nature herself. Walking around Guanajuato feels like walking around a a doll house or a little xmas village. Everything is small. Wander away from the main streets and you will find yourself in small alleyways between the thousands of homes that paint the hillside.

The next day I decided to head up to Pipila, a statue that sits atop one of the highest hills commemorating the legend of Pipila. Supposedly, the Alhodiga, a castle like structure in the center, was the last stronghold of the Spanish the turn of the 20th century. Unable to penetrate the castle due to Spanish gunfire from atop, Mexican soldiers below were in a bind. Pipila, with the help of others, placed a large slab of stone on his back. Deflecting bullets with the stone, he carried a torch to the door of the castle, lighting it on fire and allowing hundreds of Mexican soldiers to enter the castle and dismantle one of the last Spanish strongholds in the country. His heroism is honored with a giant statue overlooking the city with the same determination that carried his country to victory. I visited several other historic sights during that day and spent some time in one of the many plazas reading. I returned later in the evening with a six pack of cerveza Indio to watch the sunset from the roof of my hostel, coincidentally where a scene from the movie "Once Upon a Time in Mexico" was filmed. I invited another hostel resident I had befriended. Gary the frenchman complied and we had a nice discussion watching the sunset. He was spending one year traveling the world, and his stories inspired me to continue south to Colombia, his favorite country thus far. I also met two Japanese guys in the hostel who were spending through years bicycling the globe. They had started in Alaska, and had made it to Guanajuato. They were to continue south through Central America, South America, then on to Africa and Europe before crossing Asia and finishing back in Japan. Pretty brave for two guys who speak neither English nor Spanish.

Gary and I went out on the town for a drink. After a few disappointing stops we followed the Reggae music we had heard hours before. At the entrance of the bar was its only inhabitant, the owner "Ariel." Ariel turned out to be the baddest mo fo I had met. An immigrant from Cuba, we sat with Ariel and a few of his friends listening to reggae and salsa hits for the next few hours. Sharing stories, laughing, watching Ariel teach Cuban salsa steps, the night turned out to me a memorable one. He gave me many suggestions of places to visit in Cuba and rekindled my enthusiasm for the country.

I awoke chapped and cotton mouthed the next day, and hurriedly packed my belongings to catch my bus back to Guadalajara. In summary, my trip to Guanajuato was just what I needed. It reminded me of how much I love being on the road, meeting new people and creating memories with complete strangers. I returned to Guadalajara refreshed and optimistic. My next stop is Morelia to visit some old friends, then on to Puerto Escondido, Oaxaca. Good times.