street vendors and cantinas. The language, clothing, colors, and culture hit you all at once;bombarding your senses from 1,000 different directionsOnce we crossed the border our first stop was the train station. Train stations in Mexicoare much different than those in the states. They are very big and very old with lots of elaborateold world architecture and design. But most of all they're busy. People don't travel as much bycars or plane. They go by train or bus. They also travel in large groups with aunts, uncles,cousins, nephews, and grandparents. When they have layovers or delays they do not go tomotels or to the movies. They stay at the train station. They sleep, eat, bathe, and whatever elsein the train station. It’s quite a place.My friends had been grilling me on my Spanish for several weeks. "Learn your numbers,foods, and directions." they had instructed me. “Do not waste your time with conversationalSpanish 101.” Numbers, food, and directions will get you a lot further than "como usta usted"or "Llamo es Ricardo". This was the first test of my Spanish training at the ticket window. I hadstudied and knew my numbers and directions fairly well. However, when they started coming atme rapid fire for the first time it was a bit much. Luckily, Alberto was there to bail me out. So withtickets in hand and about two hours to burn we headed to the cantina for tacos and cervezas. Itwasn't long before the tacos and cervezas turned into tequila and lemon slices.The train to Mexico City must have been about 12 or 13 cars long. The last two cars of the train were the private sleepers that were staying in. They were just like the ones you see inold movies. It had bunk beds on the right and a bench bed on the left. It had a tiny bathroom witha toilet and sink. I thought we were roughing it until I saw the 10 or so cars in front of us. Theywere like cattle cars. They were wooden cars with slats and no air conditioning. They had 100's of Mexicans packed together like sardines on wooden benches. We were traveling like kings.One thing you become familiar with while traveling through Mexico in the rainy season ismudslides. We encountered our first mudslide about 1/2 way to Mexico City. So there we sat,stuck in the middle of the desert in the middle of summer in the middle of nowhere. So, we didwhat any group of young red blooded American surfers would do. We drank tequila. All Iremember of that was Conrad standing on a hill in front of the train extremely drunk waving theempty bottle of tequila over his head yelling "Gringo el loco! Gringo el loco!" After about 6 hoursof waiting, we got great news! A crew of workers was on its way to move the mudslide. Finally,we were saved! We pictured a line of earth moving equipment speeding its way toward us to digus out. About two hours later a small single platform car with a small electric engine cameputtering up the tracks. On it was about 15 Mexican men with shovels and pick axes. Moretequila! Somewhere in the middle of the night the train began to move and we were on our wayagain. Next stop: Mexico City.If you've never been to Mexico City or don't know much about it there's one thing youshould know. At this time it was the most populated city in the world. THE MOST POPULATEDCITY IN THE WORLD!! As you come in from the north you are coming in around the base of amountain. You are elevated so you get somewhat of a birds eye view as you come in around themountain. My God! Extreme poverty spread out in every direction as far as the eye can see! I hadno idea. Just on ocean of poverty beyond anything that I could imagine. As you get closer to thedowntown train station conditions actually get a little better. Mexico City is old, old, old. The trainstation there is also quite old and 10 times busier than the last station. We bought our tickets fromMexico City to Oaxaca. With about 6 hours to burn we decided to explore some of Mexico City. Icould write a whole separate story just on the sights and sounds of Mexico City. I'll just say this,very old, very busy, and the smell of diesel fuel is stronger than ever.The next stop on our journey was Oaxaca. (Or so we thought)The train makes occasionalpit stops in tiny little towns that sell cold soda, food, and yes, tequila. As we go further south theterrain suddenly changes from desert to mountains and jungle. There were long tunnels throughthe mountains. The tunnels were crazy. Pitch black; you could not see your hand in front of your face. The holes did not look big enough for the train to fit through. To this day, I swear the top of the train was hitting the sides of the tunnel as it swayed.By the time we hit our third mudslide we were deep in the mountains. There was nothingbut jungle and mountains for miles. There was no telling how long we'd be stuck here. It was latein the afternoon and the sun was going down. Sooo what to do? Well we had just gotten a fullbottle of tequila at the last stop, so we drank and we drank and then we drank some more. The
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