The People's Guide to Mexico Page 2
From the 30th Anniversary Edition
Are you worried about safety in Mexico? Though statistics clearly show that Mexico is a very safe destination for the vast majority of visitors, there’s no doubt that in past years the country has had a serious image problem north of the border. Many travelers have heightened concerns about leaving home.
Ironically, Mexico’s resorts, cities and rural villages are not only safe—in most cases, they are even safer than many places in the United States and elsewhere in the world. As part of the ongoing war on drugs, and efforts to increase security for tourists, you may see occasional police highway checkpoints, or perhaps an armed military patrol on popular beaches. These patrols may look scary, but don’t worry—this is Mexico’s rather awkward way of helping you feel even safer!
As for Mexico itself, the country’s infrastructure and services continue to develop at a rapid pace, making travel and living here even easier. The cost of living has increased, but anyone who keeps a careful eye on their budget will still find Mexico to be both a good value and a very rewarding experience.
Finally, we must close this introduction on a very sad note. This edition of The People’s Guide includes many changes and updates, but none is more difficult than this one: Steve Rogers, our coauthor, travel companion and cherished compadre, died of cancer in 1999, at his home in Oregon.
As you’ll discover in the pages ahead, Steve’s love of Mexico was both boundless and very highly contagious. Thanks to his encouragement, many of us were first introduced to Mexico and its wonderful people. There is no doubt, too, that without him, The People’s Guide to Mexico would not, and could not, have been written.
I’ve written more about our friend on our website, but when it came time to update this book again, we realized there was one change we simply couldn’t make. In the many years since it was first published, countless people have recognized that Steve’s offbeat humor and gentle, adventure-loving nature give this book much of its unique spirit. Without Steve beside us, sharing his inexhaustible enthusiasm and hard-earned knowledge of Mexico, some of the life would have gone out of this book. For that reason, in this and future editions, Steve will continue to live on in the present tense.
To help keep that spirit alive, we offer The People’s Guide to Mexico as Steve’s memorial and rededicate it to his memory.
From the 25th Anniversary Edition
In late December of 1972, I stood nervously on the sidewalk in front of Cody’s, a popular bookstore on Berkeley’s Telegraph Avenue. As a small crowd gathered, Steve and Lorena tore open a heavy carton and spread newly printed copies of The People’s Guide to Mexico across a brightly patterned Mitla blanket. In addition to the apprehension every author suffers when birthing a book, we were also experiencing serious financial suspense. Three years of travel through Mexico and Central America had left us nearly penniless. With two unruly parrots and a road-weary VW van to feed, we were counting on the People’s Guide to provide us with enough gas money to escape the big city.
While Steve and I wrung our hands in a parody of anxious fatherhood, Lorena’s luminous, post—Summer of Love smile soon attracted curious browsers. Within minutes, she sold the first copy. To my delight there was no further need to “pitch” our wares. Like hungry customers crowded around a busy taco stand, the word spread favorably from one person to another—“It’s some kind of really far-out travel book on Mexico!”
Within an hour, our pockets were stuffed with cash. “Caramba!” Steve cried as he ripped open a second box. “I can’t believe it! It works! They like it!” Lightheaded with excitement, we passed out books and frantically made change.
Needless to say, we had no premonition that the success of the “PG” would keep the book in print for more than 25 years, through many expansions, revisions, upheavals and editions. When our friend and publisher John Muir (the late author of the classic How to Keep Your Volkswagen Alive) mused that our book might sell as many as 25,000 copies in its lifetime, I dismissed his prediction as completely reckless.
Once the book was finished we hit the road again, continuing to roam from one corner of North America to another. It would take a computer to trace our path: According to our sometimes-hazy memories, Lorena and I have lived in over 80 places, from southern Guatemala to British Columbia and Alaska. In the early ’70s, Steve and the parrots headed for the mountains of Oregon while Lorena and I took up residence in San Miguel de Allende. There I completed one of my favorite projects, The People’s Guide to Camping, Backpacking and Boating in Mexico, followed a few years later by The On & Off the Road Cookbook. Meanwhile, Steve was not gathering moss. In addition to importing folk art, Steve, Tina Rosa and their daughter Churpa produced two well-regarded books, The Shopper’s Guide to Mexico and Mexico in 22 Days. Next came another collaboration with Steve, The People’s Guide to RV Camping in Mexico. The book didn’t attract quite as much attention as the reunion of the Beatles, but we enjoyed it almost as much.
By the mid-’80s, even our parents finally gave in to our nomadic lifestyle and quit asking when we intended to settle down and get “real” jobs. It was apparent that in spite of its rather offhanded conception, the tail was vigorously wagging the dog: The People’s Guide to Mexico had led us toward ill paid but very rewarding careers in travel writing, importing, guiding and alternative publishing.
Today, as we wrap up the Twenty-Fifth Silver Anniversary Edition, we can only shake our heads—in both gratitude and amazement—at the impact the People’s Guide has had on our lives. Though we can’t thank each of our readers personally, please know that your support over the years has been our main inspiration to keep the book alive and up-to-date.
A Different Kind of Guidebook
This book is about Mexico. But it’s also about living, traveling and taking things as they come in a foreign country. And it’s about driving conditions and health and how to cross the border. It’s about drinking the water without getting sick and how to enjoy yourself regardless of how close you are to the nearest “recommended” tourist attraction.
It is not about which hotels to stay in or the most interesting villages to visit. The purpose of this book is to teach you how to find out those things for yourself.
Many books have been written about Mexico under the guise of “guidebooks” that, in reality, are nothing more than compilations of hotels, restaurants and nightclubs, along with a few tips about where to buy authentic handicrafts that almost look as if they came from Mexico and not Taiwan. That type of guidebook, actually a directory, tells you that Mexico can put you up in reasonable style and comfort, in air-conditioned rooms with sterilized meals, for less than it would cost at home. These books don’t guide you to Mexico—they guide you away from it.
Traveling is difficult at times; nothing much is familiar when we get to wherever we’re going. For many people, this is a strain. Because they don’t understand everything that is happening, they try to diminish the experience, to make it unimportant and less real.
This is when you hear panicky tourists say, “Well, how much is that in real money?” or “Let’s get some real food for a change.” They’ve just lost contact, both with Mexico and with themselves.
One of the main purposes of this book is to show the traveler how to accept, as calmly as possible, the sights and experiences of a strange place. It began, in fact, as a series of anecdotes I’d written for friends about various adventures we (Lorena, Steve, myself and others) had had in Mexico. Our friends enjoyed the stories, but their inevitable reaction was, “Fine for you, but what about me? Can I get along?” To back up our assurances that they could indeed make it on their own, we began compiling detailed information about the country. Some of that information isn’t positive or cheery, but we wanted our friends to know what they were really headed for, not just what a travel agent would like them to believe.
Guidebooks tend to stress fun and ignore problems. In this book, however, you’ll get all the information. Warnings and precautions should make your trip easier and more enjoyable, rather than nerve-racking. And when you ask others how their trip went, take “horror” stories with a grain of salt. “Had a great time, but …” is a favorite opening. These are the stories you hear most often because they are the ones people most enjoy telling. No one wants to admit that they went to Mexico and were bored stiff, though surely that must happen on occasion.
When you feel nervous while traveling, either out of ignorance of what’s happening or out of fear of what you’ve heard might happen, you cut yourself off from experience—good or bad. You communicate in only one sense: defensively. That’s why tourists often speak to “natives” in tones one would use to address a lamppost. When you are relaxed you can communicate, even if it’s just a quick smile or a passing greeting.
Which brings up one of the main purposes of this book: to help travelers be both aware and appreciative of what they see and experience, and to lessen the impact, not only on them but on the places and people they travel to see. Keeping the mutual shock to a minimum will benefit all of us. So remember, please:
Wherever you go…there you are!
There’s really only one way to use a book of this type effectively: as you need it. There are sections you may never need and never read and others that you’ll use as a continual reference.
If you know nothing about Mexico or just wonder, then you might like to read it all before leaving. As you travel, specific questions will come to mind. “What’s the word for motor oil?”; “How do I order coffee?”; “Do I need Mexican car insurance?” Keep the book handy; it should provide the answers.
Use the table of contents and index liberally. If the order of chapters doesn’t seem logical, you’re right; it isn’t. But neither is Mexico.
r /> The Spanish words and phrases in the text and appendices were included to help you out, not to teach you the language. Anyone with a genuine interest in communicating will—or should—buy a dictionary and basic grammar book. The Spanish I’ve included is not necessarily logical or even according to the rules, but it represents the reality of Mexico versus the tourist agency image. I’ve yet to hear a Mexican say, “Would you please fill my car’s gasoline tank, sir?” It’s a hell of a lot easier for both you and the attendant if you say, “Lleno, por favor,” (Full, please), and leave it at that.
I suggest that you take extensive notes as you travel, either in a book or on paper that can be kept between these pages: maps to hot springs, a special campsite, the name of a strange fruit or a cheap hotel. When you meet others on the road, exchange this information. After you’ve returned home, show your book to friends interested in Mexico; they might like to copy your notes or question you on specific points of the book’s content.
This book was designed to be useful for an entire trip, not just one part of it. Draw in it, use it for a hot pad, make corrections, rip out pages, glue in new ones, waterproof it, do anything—just use and enjoy it; that’s what it’s for.
While we are abroad, let us not exhibit vain tricks and trances.
— PIERRE DELATTRE, Tales of a Dalai Lama
Boy, when you cross that Rio Grande, you in another country!
— TEXAS BORDER PATROLMAN
Traveling in Mexico
• Planning Your Trip
• A Travel Routine
• Where to Go
• How to Get There
Drive or Take the Bus?
Air Travel
• Travel Packages: Too Good to Be True?
Choosing a Travel Package: Roulette, Anyone?
Specialty Travel Packages
• Tours
Selecting the Perfect Tour
What Is the Actual Cost of the Tour?
Trip Cancellation Insurance
Should We Tip the Guide?
• Traveling with Friends
• Traveling Alone
• Traveling with Kids
Food and Health
Toys
Language
Enrolling Children in School
Babysitters
Planning Your Trip
I visited Mexico for the first time in 1964. On that journey, my friend Steve Rogers sparked my curiosity—and my career as a travel writer—with an unforgettable initiation into the “real” Mexico. Using an outdated road map and an alarmingly thin stack of traveler’s checks, we pointed Steve’s shiny new Volvo sedan away from Seattle’s chilling rain and down Highway 99 to San Diego, Tijuana, Guaymas and Mazatlán, then south and east across the Sierra Madre to Mexico City, Puebla, Veracruz, Villahermosa and the Yucatán Peninsula.
Having lived and studied in Mexico as a college exchange student, Steve was eager to share his discoveries about this marvelous country and its people. Pounding the steering wheel for emphasis, he held forth on topics ranging from the proper pronunciation of Tzintzuntzán to his favorite enchilada recipes. What I thought would be a brief vacation south of the border became a combination tire-burning, transcontinental marathon and total immersion course in Mexican travel.
In the Mérida market I traded my tennis shoes for huaraches and my winter coat for a hammock. As usual, Steve was ecstatic but already restless; according to a friendly truck driver, the highway now continued eastward through Yucatán and Quintana Roo, all the way to the Caribbean. “Land’s end!” Steve exulted, tossing the map into the backseat.
Several adventures later, we finally reached the beach at Puerto Juárez. Ignoring my whines of “Are we there yet?” Steve fastened his eyes on an offshore island.
Stuffing a few clothes into a laundry bag, we ditched the exhausted Volvo in a coconut plantation and jumped aboard the first boat to Isla Mujeres. There, in a setting that struck me as remarkably like Paradise, I was finally able to relax. For about two days.…
Then, a lobster dinner in a thatched restaurant turned into an invitation to stay with a Mayan family, which in turn blossomed into friendship and further invitations: to work in their taco stand, visit relatives, drink horchata, help with chores, and eventually, to become part of the family, exploring even more remote corners of the Yucatán Peninsula, visiting jungle villages, buying pigs, corn, furniture, chickens.
Our two-week Christmas vacation in search of the sun gradually lengthened into a winter-long odyssey. Before it was over, we would push on even farther, well beyond the limits of our maps, our money and sometimes our common sense. As it happened, the adventure didn’t end when we finally returned to the States.
I’d dropped out of college to join Steve on that first landmark journey, too dazzled by daydreams of Mexico to worry about the consequences of giving up my student draft deferment. The mess in Vietnam soon became desperate, however, and six months after thumbing my nose at the draft, I was pounding a drill field with a rifle on my shoulder, a self-proclaimed “prisoner of war” in a Navy boot camp.
I wouldn’t regain my freedom for four endless years. Once out of uniform, however, I didn’t waste time before heading back to Mexico again. Lorena joined Steve and me, chucking her job as society editor for a small-town Alaskan newspaper. The rest, as they say, is history and is described throughout this book.
For some people, much of the enjoyment of a trip is in the advance planning: They haunt the Web, libraries, and bookstores, collect brochures and itineraries, draw lines and x’s on maps and consult astrological charts for a propitious departure date. Others are militantly casual about long journeys; they get out of bed one morning, stuff a toothbrush and a change of clothes into a flight bag and head off in a generally southerly direction. Whichever style suits you best, read over and give some thought to the following pages before saying anything like, “We’re going to hitchhike to Peru” or “I think a two-week, 10,000-mile bus ride would be just what the doctor ordered.”
Locate a map of Mexico so you can gloat over all the places you’ll be visiting and conjure up a few armchair adventures. This will help pull you through the tedium of packing and the daily despair of leaving for work. Unfortunately, this can also lead to unforeseen difficulties.
Unless you are adept at interpreting the map, you will tend to look at Mexico in terms of miles rather than actual geography. “On the second day,” you say authoritatively, puffing clouds of smoke into your wife’s eagerly respectful face, “we’ll cross—hack! cough!” and you tap the map with the pipe stem, “this range of mountains!” On closer examination you might discover that you’ve just casually pointed to over 400 miles of one-lane dirt road, jammed with trucks and interrupted by several slow ferries. Obviously, on the evening of the second day you’re not going to be where you’d so confidently planned. If this upsets you, you’re on your way to greater irritations when the remainder of your carefully contrived schedule goes completely to pieces.
“The schedule is Veracruz Monday and Mérida on Tuesday!” you say emphatically, accelerating to an appropriately schedule-meeting, nerve-shattering speed. As the countryside blurs by, you feel the muscles knot in the back of your neck. Your friends are staring rigidly at the highway in front of the car. You are having fun?
If your time is limited, you’ll be tempted to travel great distances at a marathon pace in order to see as much as possible. We’ve met a discouraging number of people who were so exhausted and spaced-out from driving or riding thousands of miles in a few days that they thought only of finding a hotel room and mustering up strength for the return trip. The most lasting impression these people have of Mexico is smelly gas stations, lousy breakfasts with cold coffee, hotel lobbies and ragged kids trying to shine their shoes whenever they slumped onto a park bench.
It may be glamorous to say to friends, “Why, we visited over 20 archaeological sites, 15 cities, 9 beaches and 17 native markets…in 10 days!” But if your trip is for pleasure, make it that—not an ordeal.