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These boots have walked in Mexico.
Today’s driving took us through Cochise-Geronimo-and-Billy-the-Kid territory (eastern Arizona and the southwest corner of New Mexico), across the Continental Divide, and into this tip of Texas—El Paso. The weather is quite cool and very, very windy now, but mostly clear, which is a nice change from the previous day. In fact, Tucson (not voted Our Favorite City) had its only day of annual rain in honor of our Seattle-ite visit. By morning, the sky was clear, and off we set.
The terrain through eastern Arizona and New Mexico was more interesting, we thought, than the western Arizona landscape, despite its lack of the saguaro we’d come to appreciate. Our first experience with gymnastic plants, aka tumbleweed, dancing across the road in front of the car. Lots of trucks, lots of U-Hauls heading east (we didn’t really notice traffic in the opposite direction), and lots and lots of freight trains. More hills and more vegetation, albeit of less than towering height. More people, too. We stopped in Las Cruces to call Bobby Joe’s brother, and that was nice. A real feeling of city there.
The only real obstacle between Las Cruces and El Paso (a short distance away) is a stockyard or other excuse to keep thousands of cattle in one small place, including little calves in little cages. We held our breath and floored the B’mer.
We’re at a fancy hotel (El Camino) in downtown El Paso, and as it’s only a few blocks from the Mexican border, Melissa wanted to walk over. I reluctantly followed. The city at the other side of the bridge (over the Rio Grande) is Ciudad Juarez. It was an experience I won’t soon forget. Just seeing the other side of the river as we drove in was unsettling. El Paso is no Manhattan, but Juarez is still a major cultural shock. The shops also reflected the expected level of economic activity, and I don’t know whether we would have bought anything, even if we’d been shopping. The people we met and smiled at were wonderful, but there are way too many people doing way too little to allow a US citizen to be comfortable here. When people can only engage you because of what you might spend with them, not from any sense of avarice but only from desperate need, can even the occasional purchase be satisfying? (Melissa: Right before the bridge back home, I bought a handpainted ceramic turtle from a woman all alone in a sparsely provisioned but large and clean store. I’d really wanted something embroidered, but not badly enough to risk entering one of the shops to look more closely. I saw the turtle in the window.) We walked all the way (which was far shorter than it seemed) to the cathedral, working our way through and around the extensive work being done on the dirt roads. More like a war zone than a city plaza.
A second or third or greater trip would erase the apprehension I felt on this trip, and allow us to better see what is in Juarez. I would only feel comfortable, though, in the company of someone who lived there (an easy enough arrangement, of course, and one we were offered many times as we walked along—for the right price). As it is, having “too much” makes it terribly painful to be among those who have too little.
Perhaps, as a way to show the world we really belong to, we ate at one of El Paso’s best restaurants—Cafe Central. We were looking for something within walking distance, and the town really rolls itself up at 6 (apparently, normal American night life continues in the suburbs at shopping malls and the like). This place is across the street from the hotel, and serves a genuniely world class menu. At first, I was disappointed, because I’d been unable to satisfactorily find some hot native food on this trip. I chose the only dish that you couldn’t have ordered in any similar restaurant anywhere in the world—fillet mignon done with jalapeno peppers. A major success, and I got the burnt lips I’d been searching for.
Tomorrow, we have a long trip to San Antonio, so it’s early to bed...