I was under the impression, incorrectly it turns out, that women were the only ones who fake it. Whilst Laura and I waited for the bus, a guy pointed at us and performed a full on When Harry Met Sally snippet. The whistles are considerably more welcome in comparison. Ugh.

Laura and I traveled to the city center for the Mariachi festival. We rode the bus downtown, thinking this was better for both our wallets and the planet than hailing a taxi. Never again. At least not on a holiday and in the heat. One can cram only so many Mexicans into a bus before the absent AC and the ample humidity put your sanity and antiperspirant to the test.

After thirty plus minutes of stand still traffic and nonstop sweatage, Laura and I ditched the brimming bus and walked to the square. I solemnly swear this is the last time I’ll complain about the washrooms, but after heading underground for a pay per use toilet that was more malodorous than even the most potent festival porta-p, I can’t hold back.

Is it wrong that what I miss most about home is peanut butter and proper plumbing? Probably. That’s not true. I’m not homesick, but I really miss waking up to post-it notes on the kitchen counter from my parents saying they love me and possibly where/what they’ll be doing and miscellaneous suggestions concerning what my day should entail (ie painting the house…again, losing at scrabble, writing another book, researching the history of turtle racing, or removing my heap of belongings littering the entry way. These are referred to simultaneously with endearment and resentment as Christa Tracks by the parental unit).

Oh--sad day! The screen on my camera has opted to cease and desist functioning. So, it’s back to olden days and view finders. I feel almost anachronistic with my camera pressed to my eye and not knowing immediately how my shot turned out. Everything else seems to be in working order though, so thankfully I won’t have to shell out the cash for a new camera just yet.

The parade was wet but wonderful. Despite the rain we got to see hordes of mariachis and dancers. The costumes and cantaciones were well worth the bus ride from Hades. Well done Mexico, well done.