The Guadalajara Reporter
Guadalajara's Largest English Newspaper
There’s a house I walk by on my way to the Friday market. It sits on a double or triple lot but is not prime real estate because it also sits directly across the street from railroad tracks.
My grandson has a very specific wish list for Santa. Batman and Play-Doh. No surprises. No binoculars that he’s been talking about since September. Just Batman and Play-Doh.
I spent last weekend with my daughter, her husband and my two grandsons in the magical mountain town of Tapalpa. It was an excellent trip, with fun shopping, a quaint hotel, the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had, and scenery completely different from the cityscape of Guadalajara that I’m getting used to.
The day will come, I suppose, when I’ll find myself thinking in pesos instead of dollars. When that $169 price tag on the scarf at the Galerias Mall won’t feel like sticker shock.
“No hablo español,” I explained to the driver as my daughter left after giving him our address and some general directions for getting me home.
Of all the jobs I’ve had, my favorite remains my first – lifeguarding. Forget bigger paychecks, mental challenges, or even the luxury of spending every day in a bookstore. Never mind the occasional sunburn, the hassle of sunscreen, or the wrinkles from all the years I didn’t know I needed it. Just give me that tall chair in the sun.
I don’t know if this is common in Guadalajara or just my neighborhood, but several times a week, while out walking, I hear cowbells ringing. When I first followed the sound, I discovered a garbage truck with workers trailing behind, collecting trash and wearing cowbells attached to their belt loops.
