Ranchito

My mom was at a resort in northern Mexico, and she met a really funny couple from Mexico City. They became good friends, and my parents went out to dinner with them in Los Angeles.

On Friday my mom told me that they wanted me to visit them at their ranch west of Mexico City. I got in touch with them, and on Saturday morning I made the journey to their estate.

I woke up Saturday morning, dying of thirst, from a night of moderate drinking. Water is something you don't really think about in normal drunken circumstances, but in Mexico you can't drink from the tap. I was out of water, so I went down to the abarrotes (I don't know what it means either, but you can figure it out from the context of the following sentence.) The woman their instantly greeted me with "Buenos Dias Guero." "Hi there whitey."

I dunno, I just thought that was really cute. Like bunny rabbits and shit, cute.

After thoroughly hydrating myself... I began the journey to Contepec, Michoacan.

I couldn't get there directly so I took a bus to Mexico City. I got off at a subway station, and continued by metro to the eastern bus station. To confuse the unknowledgable traveller Mexico City has four bus stations, at the cardinal directions.

I got to the bus station with several seconds to spare... not enough time to pee. But most buses have bathrooms... not the bus to Contepec... it was a school bus, that at times had more people than seats. It was a three hour trip... but I arrived in the tiny Contepec at 5pm. Five hours after leaving Pachuca.

The town has 7,000 people, many of them are Charros, Mexico's take on cowboys. As I walked into town, Victor my mother's friend picked me up in his huge SUV. He was wearing camoflauge pants and a cowboy hat. But he assured me that he wore these things specifically when he was in the country.

He drove me to his ranch a few minutes away from the center of town. It is called Maguey. Maguey is the name of the Agave plant that grows all over Mexico. It is a cousin of Blue Agave, which is used to make Tequila in Edo. Jalisco. Maguey can be used to make another alcohol called Pulque. It tastes like paint.

Their ranch was beautiful... the home is on the corner of the property... there are three buildings, a guest house, the main house, and the kitchen/living/dining rooms... there is an awning between each of them... so you don't have to be bothered by the weather.

When I arrived they had cooked me a delicious feast. Blue Corn Tortilla thingies filled with beans and topped with beef, Cactus salad, beans, lemonade, and corn that was grown on their property.

We went for a walk around the Ranchito (they say it's not big enough to call a rancho) They showed me the various fruit trees they were growing and the corn fields they had. There was lots of corn.

That night they took me to a nearby hacienda. A hacienda is a feudalistic colonial ranch. Rich land owners kept their homes within it's gates, with workers and farmers living in (much) smaller homes, they tended to the fields while the rich land owners, probalby took naps. We visited one of the ten original haciendas in Mexico, it was built during the sixteenth century.

We went to the bar to take a few drinks. The owners brought us a bottle of wine, and a meat and cheese platter. Then talked to Victor and Melli about politics. I even understood 85 percent of what they were talking about.

On the way home I fell asleep several times. Then I went to sleep in the loft of the guest house. It was very comforatble, but there was a whole in the floor, so I kept thinking that I would sleep walk over that hole and fall down (I would keep walking but then look down, and then I'd fall... a la Wile E Coyote.)

On sunday morning they took me to the market for breakfast. We had a breakfast not that unsimilar from what I tend to eat in the mornings... tacos from various parts of a bull's head.

The bulls head was boiled in maguey and chopped up for sale. I ate the tongue (how many people made out with a cow this weekend?), the cheeks, and the muscles behind the eyeball. As you can imagine the muscles behind the eyeball were disgusting... but the cheeks weren't half bad (only 20 % bad.)

After the market we went to their friends' ranch. The owner of the ranch's brother raises bulls for the bullfights, so he invited us to watch a Corrido de Toros in Mexico City, later that day.

So we left Contepec and headed back to Mexico. It took half as much time. We stopped at their house. They had normal things like pictures of their parents, their children, pictures with them and Prince Charles, a certificate of excellence from China, etcetera. Pretty awesome.

Victor used to be on the cabinet of Vicente Fox, the president of Mexico. (He says that Collin Powell was the nicest member of Bush's cabinet... don't be spreading that information though.)

We went to the bullfights. Bullfights in my opinion range from horribly brutal to utterly boring. The first fight was bad, because I forgot how they torture the animal and then kill it. I guess the torrero does a beautiful dance with the bull.. but you know it'd be pretty fucked up if you were dancing with somebody... and then stuck them with a huge sword. (Unless you're getting all Freudian on that sentence.) After two bullfights you get desensitized to the brutality, and then it just gets boring. I guess I should have dranken more wine from the bota bags that were being passed around (They are the ancient version of bladders of Franzia. But you don't have to tap it before you drink it.)

BTW they crowd actually says Ole during the bullfight. Alas, they do not serve Ole brand Horchata.

After the bullfight, they took me for carnitas and Sopa Azteca. It was the best Sopa Azteca I've eaten since I worked at the ASUCD Coffee House. One time I declared that we ought to take a shot in the memory of Sopa Azteca... a sign was made to commemorate this moment.

I had such a great weekend with my parents friends... and I wasn't even drunk. They were so cool, I hope to see them again.

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