Content-type: text/html Ray Manning

Monday September 12, 2016 8:02 PM

Mexico City

On Tuesday I'm up at 5 am to catch a 6 am taxi to the airport. As I'm in line at the ticket counter, not even to immigration yet, a guard wants to see my passport. And he starts asking me a bunch of questions about my work and doesn't want to believe that I am retired. And then he keeps leafing through my passport and stopping at the stamp from the Islamic Republic off Pakistan. And he doesn't want to believe that I was a tourist that took a holiday in Pakistan. But after I give him the same story in spanish) a few times, he lets me check in baggage and get my boarding pass. On the first flight we taxi around the airport a time or two because there is an electrical glitch that somehow fixes itself. The second flight is smoother until; the end when we are about to touch down and then the engines come up and we are climbing. For some reason or another we have to go around and try again. I'm through immigration in Mexico City in two minutes, but the first bag doesn't appear from our flight for 30 minutes.

At 7 pm on Thursday Person R_Me meets me at my hotel and we go walking. We finally stop at a restaurant that looks nice and clean and, maybe not upscale, at least reasonable with most people somewhat dressed up. The food seems okay and spicy as I like. We eventually walk back to the hotel and it is time for sleep. Not long after falling asleep I am heading to the bathroom for the first of 6 trips over the night. When I eventually wake up I am still feeling ill but when I finally throw up the entire contents of Thursday's dinner I start to believe that I am going to be okay. Person R_Me's friend, David, is visitng from Spain so we meet up with him and start walking. THis would not usually be a problem, but I've been awake most of the night, I'm dehydrated, and I have no enery because I threw up everything I've eaten for the last 12 hours. With a break for lunch (A half bowl of rice for me) and another break for water, we end up walking for 4 hours. By the end of the day I am hammered and I fall into bed near 6pm and sleep for an hour. I'm starting to feel better but the walking on top of the illness was a bit too much. Later Person R_Me and I walk to a 7-11 for PowerAde and water and soon I am heading back to sleep while Person R_Me heads for dinner with David.

Saturday starts slow as Person R_Me has to visit the dentist and I just catch up on email and other electronic activities (that I missed for the last day due to sight-seeing and being ill). Then we meet up and take a taxi, a bus, and another taxi to Texcoco - Person R_Me's apartment 25 kilometers outside of Mexico City. The town/city that He lives in is a pit but the two universities are supposedly world class. How could this be? But we walk around the universities and the town a bit and then we go back to gather ingredients to cook dinner. We cook pasta and vegetables together and then just talk in Spanish and English for the longest time. When Person R_Me goes into French, I cannot keep up, of course.

Sunday starts slowly but we clean Person R_Me's apartment and then take a bus to Teotihuacan to check out the ancient pirámides. We do a lot of walking and climbing on the piramades and then go back to the apartment. Person R_Me's brother is present and we cook dinner together and enjoy the company and the enchiladas and beans and chips.

On Sunday night into Monday morning I have to run to the bathroom three times. When I mention this to Person R_Me in the morning he says it was probably the tomatoes or chilis. Well, couldn't he have thought about that beforehand? But I'm sort of okay on Monday morning and when Person R_Me goes to his college for a class, I go with him and walk around the campus. Later I gather my things and Person R_Me sends me off in a taxi/bus/taxi scenario to my hotel in Mexico City. When I arrive there is no receptionist but because I stayed here a few days ago they have left the key for me with a doorman. I get walking a bit and eat half of a medium Pizza Hut pizza hoping western food will stabilize my digestive tract. And I give the other half to a group of young men (or teenagers) who look hungry. And they cannot thank me enough in many different languages. From there I buy a few other supplies and then pack up for the trip home.