Ce n'est (pas) qu'un au revoir...
DAY 1 (05/16)
I leave Katryn. I smoke a cigarette I don’t appreciate. I board on the same plane as Eduardo whose one’s
been delayed. We land in Benito Juarez Airport way later than expected. We’re anxious. Bertrand is here
somewhere but Eduardo was supposed to meet him around 6. It’s already 9 something and we have no
way to let him know what’s going on. We finally find him at the rendez vous point after taking a shuttle
between terminal 2 and 1 which took forever. We take a cab (with a huge trunk to load all our shit) to go
to the hotel Posada Vienna. We have dinner in the hotel’s restaurant and we go to bed straight off after
that. I think the previous night’s been short for the 3 of us...
DAY 2 (05/17)
Time to start exploring Mexico City has come. (But we buy some toothpaste before. Toothpaste is
important.) We walk down this huge avenue. Traffic is jammed and drivers are crazy. One rule: every man
for himself!! The more we walk closer to the Zucalo, the more sidewalks are crowded. The Zocalo is this
square you can find in some Mexican towns where are gathered the government buildings, a Cathedral and
some other pretty nice things. Unfortunately, there is a concert today and the area is closed. (One guy tells
us that Shakira will perform. But this guy’s lips lie, I’m sure of that.)
We go grab something to eat in a Chinese buffet “restaurant”. I taste this green pepper. I cry. We then take
the subway to reach one of the oldest neighborhood of Mexico City. This fucking subway is super
caliente!! The drivers’ rules also apply here and when doors shut, you don’t want to be in the way. (Which
unfortunately happened to me...) I then knock my head in this car designed for Mexican seize. Btw, I’m
always checked out by all those short Mexican who probably consider a 6,5 feet guy like some kind of
anomaly. Or maybe they just think I’m cute... I don’t know. We walk around in this old neighborhood. We
go sit in a bar to have some beers. We check the pictures we took at “Splash” two days ago...
I’m unsure but then I think we return to the hotel. We dress and we go out at night to the Plaza Garibaldi.
It’s a square where there are a lot of Mariachis who would sing for you in exchange of some pesos. It’s the
tradition to make them play and sing for your girlfriend (or your boyfriend if you find a Mariachi okay with
that.) But we don’t have no girlfriend nor boyfriend. A guy approaches us and advise us to go to the
“Guadalajala de la Noche”. It’s a restaurant with a kinda big stage in the middle with guys performing
different classical dances from all over Mexico. (And some other things.) It’s really nice. We order some
good food and a 730 pesos bottle of Tequila (= $73.) Eduardo go dance with a girl whose breast is so
gigantic, I can see just half of the things around me; (the other half is a boob...) She would then go talk to
us before leaving, planning to do something the next day. It won’t happen. We down the bottle and a few
minutes later a waiter comes, offering me a drink. My first thought is that Mexican waiters are super cool
but then, he starts to talk in Spanish with Eduardo. Actually, it’s a guy sit on the other side of the restaurant
who bought me the drink. He wants to know my age, where I’m from and if I talk Spanish... I guess I’m
part of those guys who are so cute that people’s firts thought is that they are gay ;-) Anyway, he didn’t
fuck with me. The drink is a “White Russian”!! (Yet, I don’t like a “White Russian” enough to reconsider
my sexuality so the guy really didn’t fuck with me...)
We go buy some beers to take them back to the hotel. We need to find an ATM. There’s one but it’s in an
isolated street in the dark. Eduardo thinks we might have some troubles so he asks a cop to come with us.
Bertrand withdraws some money, we go get the beers, we drink a couple of them sit in the square
surrounded by dozens of guys totally trashed and people having fun drinking... A guy discreetly proposes
us a piece of napkin soak in ether. But we don’t especially want to get high. It’s late. We go back to the
hotel.
DAY 3 (05/18)
We go eat some tacos in the street, where hygiene conditions are, I’m sure, totally good. Everybody said
we’d get sick. That’s probably because they ignored we are French and strong and crazy. I take three
orders of 5 tacos each and taste every kind of them. It’s really good.
Also, we finally get the chance to see the Zocalo. It’s huuuuuuuuuuuge and beautiful. There is a
tremendously big Mexican flag in the middle which cracks in the wind. There is the Government Palace and
an old dirty beautiful gigantic Cathedral. The whole thing remembers me the Place Vendôme in Paris. We
enter the Cathedral, take pictures. Outside, some guys get themselves “purified” or something like that by
some other dudes who spread all over them some kind of chalk hot stone, reciting some weird shit. Then,
sunset comes and it gives to the whole area a fantastic light.
We keep on walking and go grab a few beers in a terrace bar. Eduardo then calls his mum and he tells her
we have the intention to rent a car. She apparently gets really mad and forbids him to do so. Because it’s
dangerous and blablabla... Eduardo is really troubled. He doesn’t want to change our plans and make us
pissed but in the same time, he doesn’t want to disobey his mum. I think it’s cute :-) A 21 year old guy
who doesn’t want to disobey his mum while she is miles and miles away...
Back at the hotel, Bertrand finds out he lost his credit card. For the first 5 minutes, I just think that it’s
somewhere in the room. But soon, we all have to face it; it’s not... It takes him some time to realize all the
consequences of that and the amount of shit awaiting him (and me. Kinda...) The most plausible way he
lost it was probably the day before when we went withdrawing money. He would have forget it in the
ATM. Fuck...
DAY 4 (05/19)
It was decided the night before that we would take a bus to go to Teotihuacan and then to Xalapa. But
when I wake Bertrand up, he tells me that as I felt asleep watching “The Lord of the Rings” in Spanish,
they decided to stick to the plan and to go rent a car. So be it! Not... Too expensive, too much shit to deal
with in case we would crash the car, not big enough for all our pieces of luggage and they would block
something like $4000 on my account in case we return the car damaged. The bitch thinks I have $4000 on
my bank account... She’s funny.
So it’s gonna be by bus. A van comes to pick us up at the hotel around 10. There is a guide talking in
English. We go pick up a Danish guy and a couple from California in another hotel. Before going to the
proper site of Teotihuacan with the pyramids and everything, we make a stop in this place where they
explain to you everything about cactus and how they make pieces of jewelry and “art” with different kind
of stones. It’s a fucking tourist thing and I hate that. I feel like a moron. They have lots of beautiful jewels
though. Because I look like European or American, they probably think I’m a millionaire or something like
that. Which I ain’t.
In Teotihuacan, the guide explains to us a lot of things and shows us some crazy things. Even though I’m
not especially found of old stones, I find it super interesting. He then lets us go by ourselves, walk down the
“Valley of Death” and climb the pyramid of the Sun. The Danish guy joins us. His name sounds like
“anus”... Later on, calling the guy by his name but unsure of the pronouciation, Eduardo would ask him if
he was correct. So the guy was like “Yeah! Yeah!” But then Eduardo was like “That’s funny...” The guy
didn’t get why. The moment Eduardo started to explain to him why it was funny, I couldn’t believe he was
doing that so I ran away to laugh my ass off, thinking about Eduardo explaining to this guy that his name
sounded like “asshole” in english... Crazy Eduardo...
In the meantime, Bertrand borrowed me some money to buy this ridiculous fake axe which looked like the
most useless, dumbest, ugliest thing ever. I made fun of him so bad... He would then start all this rave about
the axe, calling it “Machete” and everything...
At the top of the pyramids, the eyesight was... Waow!! I got badly sunburned but didn’t realize it
immediatly. Around 3 p.m, we go back to the van and on our way back to the hotel, the driver almost kills
us all in a car crash. The Californian girl shouts something really weird. We say goodbye to “anus”...
We take back all our shits and go to the bus station to go to Xalapa. I’m actually glad that we don’t have
to force Eduardo to lie to his mum...
5 hours later, we are in Xalapa, on the East side of Mexico. We have to take 3 cabs to reach Eduardo’s
apartment!! They wouldn’t let us put our things on the backseat. Assholes. 2 or 3 of Eduardo’s friends are
waiting for him there. Eduardo’s roommate just moved in. It’s not furnished. There’s nothing.
N.O.T.H.I.N.G!! They prepared some food and there is some Tequila. Some other guys would come. I
start feeling really bad. My shoulders are super red; I got a headache, my back is killing me and I feel I
have fever. I act like a jackass, do not socialize and go to “bed”. (I mean, in my sleepbag on the floor.) I
didn’t manage to sleep before 2 or 3 hours, I was super cold and super hot in the same time, sweating like
a pig, thrown into a series of delirious dreams I thought true even 5 minutes after I woke up the next day...
Appart from the Zocalo, I didn’t particularly liked Mexico City. Everything else that I saw in Mexico was
much more beautiful, colorful and “human”. In the city, poverty is more obvious, you can see kids totally
fucked up hanging out in the streets, looking for I don’t know why. People look at you like you are
responsible for the death of their entire family and like if they are about to chop you up. It was the only
place where I felt uncomfortable. And when you do and that you are a foreigner, locals can see it in your
eyes. I don’t like that, to feel stressed out for unknown reasons, just because I don’t look the same,
because I’m in a country where I don’t even talk the language...
DAY 5 (05/20)
Looks like Eduardo partied a little bit too hard yesterday. He is sleeping. Bertrand is taking a shower. He
gets out and tells me the good news. It’s super cold. When my turn comes, I scream in silence something
like “You fucking biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch!!” We then go out by ourselves to have a breakfast. I immeditaly
like Xalapa. Like I said above, it’s smaller, way more beautiful and “authentic”, full of colors... I feel
relaxed and finally; it looks like the Mexicans stopped considering me responsible for the wipe out of their
relatives.
There is this square from which you can see the rest of the city. Just innumerable little poor houses spread
all over some green hills. I like it a lot. We keep walking around for a while, we buy some food. We go
back to Eduardo’s...
We’ll wait most of the afternoon for Gamael, a friend of Eduardo who’s supposed to bring to Bertrand a
cell phone with which he should be able to call in France. Eduardo, Eduardo and Gamael then take us out.
We’ll do pretty much the same things as this morning but with the Mexican perspective and “knowledge of
the place”... Night comes and we go for a walk by the lakes. We stop in this restaurant called
“Paris-Brest”. Bertrand and I order a fondue. Better than the one in Chicago but still not as good as the
ones we have at home.
Later on, we go out in a terrace bar with some other people. We have a lot of fun. This French guy
studying in Xalapa joins us. When midnight comes (7 a.m in France) Bertrand makes a phone call to his
mum. Gamael’s phone does not let him call for long though. He goes buy a phone card with which he
doesn’t manage to call much longer either.
DAY 6 (05/21)
I fucking hate Bertrand when he wakes me up at 8. Him, Eduardo and I cross all the city by bus to go near
Eduardo’s university to find an open internet-café so Bertrand can write down a phone number he needs to
call. We then go to some kind of Circle K to find a better phone card. They don’t take my credit card so
we have to walk far away to find an ATM. I withdraw some money and a few minutes later, I pretend I
forgot my credit card in the cash machine. Bertrand doesn’t like my joke.
I then buy in the street one liter of fresh fruit juice. I’m looking at the guy pressing the fruits and mixing them
in a cup. And suddenly, he pours it all in a plastic bag and hands it to me like if I just won a fucking golden
fish at a carnival!! The thing was to drink the juice straight from the plastic bag with a straw. Funny.
I can finally pay for Bertrand’s phone card. He makes his calls. At this point, drinking my plastic bag fruit
juice, I’m wondering what the fuck I’m doing here, especially when goes through my mind, the idea that
Bertrand maybe wouldn’t have been as patient as I’ve been if the shit had happened to me... But like Sean
Lou would say; “Oh Well!”
Eduardo leaves. He has some things to deal with at his university. We take the bus again. It’s a very nice
day, sunny and all... Bertrand makes some more phone calls, with his mom this time. We come back to the
apartment. Bertrand has to go to the Western Union to take some money she managed to send to him.
When he is back, we leave to the bus station to take a bus to go to Vera Cruz. It’s kinda late already, we
won’t have much time to spend up there. We go to the Beach. It’s ugly. Whatever. An old lady (ugly as
well) proposes to serve us something to drink. When Bertrand asks me “What size the beer, medium or
large?” I answer, “Large of course”. The thing is that we didn’t expect something that large. What she
brings is actually something called a “Kawama” (a word which sounds like that anyway...) It’s like... a
bottle. We didn’t have lunch, the sun hits hard... After the 3d Kawama, I was almost able to speak fluent
Spanish... The Ocean is super hot.
We take a cab toward downtown. We walk around for a bit, find a place where to eat... (I feel like the
only things I’ve done are eating and drinking. Well, ok, is not totally untrue :-) but it ain’t what I’ll
remember from Mexico!!)
A few very cute and young kids come next to our table singing a song and playing some intrustment, asking
for money. It’s really sad. I feel so bad.
We stop by a shoe shop. Bertrand borrows me money to buy a pair of shoes. We go back to Xalapa
where we are expected to go in a club. We drink a lot of Tequila. As weird as it sounds, Bertrand and I
remain sober. Eduardo’s friends on the other hand, they are totally trashed. Like, very trashed!! It gets
really crazy. We listen to this song “Don’t you wish your girlfriend was hot like me...” I was thinking to
myself that if a girl was saying that to me and that my girlriend was actually not as hot as her, I would hate
this fucking bitch!!
After clubbing like crazy, we go out get a Mexican hot-dog. I Cry (again.) Last night on the floor...
DAY 7 (05/22)
Eduardo has a presentation to do, he has to leave. Quick goodbyes. I will miss this bitch. Before leaving,
Bertrand and I write him a few words that I stick against the wall of his room. We then find 2 cabs, say
goodbye to 2 of Eduardo’s friends. They were really nice. Once again, we’re back at the bus station. Our
bus to Puebla leaves a 3. On the way, the landscape is gorgeous. I take a few pictures. We arrive in
Puebla, (2 hours South from Mexico City) still carrying all our shit. Ricardo and Saralicia are waiting for us.
We met them at the beginning of Fall Semester and they met each other in the same time as well. They
started to date something like... 5 weeks before going back home!! And even if Sara is from Monterrey, all
the way North of Mexico, they had at least the good idea to live in the same country!! ;-) I’m super happy
to see them again. I really liked (and still do) those two ones. We quickly and truly became real friends and
I don’t know what I had done without them last semester... They took 2 cars. I make the ride with
Ricardo. We have a nice chat.
Ricardo’s dad is an architect. It’s a wealthy family. They live in a very, very nice house. I’d lie if I’d say I
wasn’t glad!! Funny how the contrast was striking with our way of life at Eduardo’s! They had this lady
who was coming every single day at their house, and she was doing everything! Clean the house, clean the
clothes, preparing food, serving dinner. Crazy!! I’d become an awful person if I was living such a
comfortable life! Next to the house, on the opposite side of the garden, there was this annexe. A room with
nice couches and seats, big pane windows, a fridge filled with alcohol, a pool table, music... It rocked!
At night, we go out in this very nice place right next to Ricardo’s college in Cholula. We have beers and
food. Some friends of Ricardo join us. There are lots of American people in this bar. All of us then move in
this very fancy club called “Floridita” where people were dancing Salsa. I think it’s very cool that pretty
much every single Mexican knows how to dance. In France or in the US, when I take a look at people
“dancing”, I sometimes find it pathetic. (Before getting drunk and starting doing the exact same thing...)
Even though I drink a lot of Vodka, it doesn’t hit me and I accept to dance with Sara and another girl who
was really good. I’m considering taking Salsa lessons this year... I think it’s sexy to know how to dance,
especially for a guy. Girls manage to be sexy when they dance, even if they have no idea of what the fuck
they’re doing.
DAY 8 (05/23)
By the end of the night, now that we had a much more easier access to internet and phone calls, Bertrand
manages to definitely get rid of all his problems. He transformed his ticket for Argentina in a ticket for
France for the next day. Or something like that.
Elea is arriving today. The four of us take a bus to go pick her up in Mexcio City Airport. We then go with
Betrand to Terminal 1 where he is supposed to take off the day after. It would be pointless to come back
to Puebla with us to come back back to the Airport in the morning.
(A week later; when I came back home, trapped in this ultra uncomfortable plane for more than 10 hours
with this 50 year old Mexican guy next to me who wouldn’t shut the fuck up and told me the story of his
life, I thought that if I had had to wait one night in the Airport like Bertrand did, BEFORE boarding; I
would have put a freaking bullet in my head!!)
We come back to Puebla, without Bertrand, but with Elea.
DAY 9 (05/24)
Two Mexican and a French girl wake me up (again!) I hate them all. We go dowtown, to Puebla’s own
Zucalo actually. It’s really cute. Really, really. We walk around in the streets. I feel like I used to feel in
some french cities. We go see this church wich the inside is amazing. The walls and ceilings are made of
gold. Not just gold painting but like, real gold! We keep on walking around; I really love it. We then take
tickets for the “Turibus” Those sort of two storeys bus you can find in tourist cities to drive you around.
You already look retarded when you are in this kind of bus but on top of that, you have to put on some
headphones to listen to the explanations about what you see. It’s not retarted that you look, it’s worse.
There’s probably an english word for that but I don’t know it...
But at least, we can see a lot of beautiful places, buildings and blablabla... I forget every single thing the
lady says in my ears 5 seconds after she said it but I don’t really give a shit actually... After 2 semesters far
from home, while I’m right in the process to accept leaving my American life behind, I don’t get mad
spending an afternoon doing nothing or playing the stupid fat tourist... It’d been different if I had come all
the way from France to Mexico on purpose. I wouldn’t have let a single minute go away without doing
something. Circumstances are different.
By the end of the day, we go have dinner in a nice restaurant and we then go to the bus station to buy our
tickets for Acapulco. We back to Ricardo’s to prepare our things... The coach is at midnight. It’s super
fancy with large and comfortable seats. I took pictures to show them to Bertrand. He and I took the bus so
many times... He’ll be pissed to see that I traveled in such a nice one. I actually manage to take some
sleep!! The last time I managed to sleep in a bus, I was short enough so my legs do not touch the floor...
6 hours later, we’re in Acapulco, on the Pacific side of Mexico. We can’t check in the hotel before 12.
We go on the beach to see the sunrise...
DAYS 10-11-12 (from the 25th to the 27th)
3 very relaxing days. We did some jet ski (loved it!!) At night, we went to this terrace restaurant from
which you could watch divers diving from 35 meters high. Impressive! But which is also impressive is that
we paid $45 per person just so that an imbecile comes to the hotel and drive us to this restaurant where we
had two drinks included in the $45. I know that the moment we had to pay, it was like being fucked by
behind but still, I didn’t realize how well they fucked us... We could have done the exact same thing for
$10. The rest of the time, we just spent it doing some very exhausting things like getting tanned on the
beach, hanging out in the pool drinking “White Russian” (for me) “Margarita” (for them. Well, not Elea
whom I converted to the “White Russian”.) I tasted a wonderful cocktail (no alcohol in it) called the
“Acapulco”. It’s melon, manguo, coconut, milk and maybe something else. Sooooooo delicious!!
DAY 13 (05/28)
Back to Puebla the day before, Ricardo insisted so that we go to Cholula which is a sort of little city in the
big city of Puebla... He was right to insist. It was gorgeous. My mum and sister would have been crazy
with all the beautiful things to buy. I was stressed out. Didn’t want to miss my flight.
They drove me to the bus station. Said goodbye. Sara cried. Another painful moment. Ricardo is coming
to Italy the 8th of June to see his twin brother. I might have a chance to see him in France.
I travelled with Ricardo’s friend who was going to the airport to pick up one of her friend from Chile. I was
right on time.
It’s been almost 5 days that I’m back now. I saw a couple of friends. The others are spread all over the
country. It’s already too soon to say how I feel about that. Sure things have changed but not in a way that
they are so exciting that it’s easier for me to move on.
I had a life in Louisiana. I had friends, I had habits, a place to live, a girl... My life here hasn’t really
changed, it’s the same as I left it. Everything that I lived in the US is of no consequences here. I guess
soldiers back from war feel a little bit the same way. That’s why then, they take the habit to gather with
other veterans to talk about their common experience and to get wasted. I’m gonna do the same, end up
absolutely trashed but not to forget... I’ll do it to remember.
As Valérie would say; "Au Revoir..."
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