Puebla’s Rural Roads

Mexico is cheap, and hot.   It took us a few hours to get out of Mexico City.  A combination of Mexican-speed-to-action, distractions and traffic.

We have 4.5 days to travel 1,547 kilometers to Hard Rock Hotel to broadcast the radio show.    We left Tepoztlan and continued South on 95D, which was leading us into the only state Daniela advised we avoid.   Guerrero: where those 40 protestant students went missing (kidnapped and killed) with the help of the Mexican military/government (possibly).  This is the stark reality of political corruption, struggle-for-rule and centuries of violence serving as a means of maintaining social order in the absence of respected authority.

We turned off route 95D and onto a cross-dessert county road with far too many speed bumps (topes) to keep us even remotely on pace to reach Oaxaca before dusk.

We stopped for fruit on this new road, highway 138, rural Puebla.   It was a hot dusty stretch of sun-scorched country-side, and possibly the 4th circle of hell: damnnation of the avaricious, plunged into poverty.   But, it wasn’t, because the people were good-souled and well intended.  The middle of the ocean with a leaking boat, baling. Maybe help is on its way.  Family values and a humble hope in God.  I bought oranges, pineapple and bananas, and paid her double because she wanted nearly nothing.  Roaches scattered when I lifted the toilet tank to check for water.   The sun still sizzling.  My dad rather lap up his own sweat than take in any food from these road-front kitchens.


A big billboard with busty women offered to wash our car, “lavado auto” asking but a few pesos.  In reality they only had scrawny Mexican men with mustaches and all the time in the world to lather us down.   Without debate, we sped up, rambling on down the road until the next tope, and again, (bump!) for the rest of the afternoon.

Religion on the radio, disguised as song, we were about a full day behind with only 4 days and 1,400 KM of unpredictable Mexican madness to navigate.


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