The Guadalajara Reporter
Guadalajara's Largest English Newspaper
The pickup truck pulled out from Oxxo. It was an older model with a single bench seat and a paint job that might have been blue in years past, but was now as grey a midwestern winter sky.
This week was two months to the day from when I’ll be leaving Mexico and heading back to the Midwest.
My sister came home from a New York City vacation all smiles because someone had asked her where they could find the high end jewelry stores.
I’m always surprised by what I see for sale from street vendors.
My mom dreamed of being a journalist. She skipped 4th grade, was a straight A student and a diligent worker, and undoubtedly would have excelled at college.
For the last two Christmases, I’ve asked for a street map of Guadalajara.
There was a time when I liked nothing more than Election years. I remember the emery boards and bumper stickers given out for free at the County fair.
