"Hold the GD phone..."

Chewing as per usual

...I say OUT LOUD to myself when I find the busses I've been looking for, for the last hour, because deep down I'm a proper geriatric lady.

9/4, 615a

I wake up. I do an hour of yoga before the dogs even wake up to pee. In typical Bianca fashion, I pick a class twice as long as any I’ve done since I’ve been on my yoga kick and I make sure it’s especially difficult, too, because I DIDN’T DO ENOUGH YOGA THE LAST TWO DAYS AND IT FEELS LIKE A PERSONAL FAILURE, FOLKS. 

Obviously, I hurt my wrist. Obviously, I keep going. 

This morning’s journey on the mat was Lord of the Rings long and exhausting. I’m strong, I’m weak, I’m open, I’m judgmental, I’m breezy, I’m NOT. When Philip Urso gets into the point of why I chose this class (“No illusion is bigger than any other”) I break down into coughing sobs. 

Y’all. Thank God I do yoga alone. 

11a 

Señoras

San Miguel has a giant market every Tuesday called El Tianguis. Last night’s internet research informs me the market is on the outskirts of town and I can take a bus or taxi. I’m afraid to take a taxi because it involves talking to strangers, so I’m bussing it. Of course, there isn’t a bus route online or in existence, I’m guessing, but multiple websites tell me the Route 8 or 9 bus goes to the market and I can catch it near Plaza Civica.

When I get to Plaza Civica, there are no less than 8 busses coming and going. I speed walk up and down the block looking for Route 8 or 9, or any indication of El Tianguis. Multiple websites (again, I’m hitting myself for not buying a damn Mexico guide book because the internet is full of liars) say the route numbers mean less than the destination written on the bus windows in shoe polish or with stickers (which I love).

I see nothing I need. I see bus stands for different numbers but none of them are mine. The websites said either across the

This sleepy baby bear

street from the church or on Calle Mesones and I came up Calle Mesones and never saw busses so this has to be it--

I see it! There is a bus that says 109, buts probably the same thing as 9, and it’s hauling ass, so I can’t even run to catch it. I’ll wait for the next one. At this point, it’s almost 1130 and some website said busses come every 20 minutes or so. I decide: If the bus doesn’t come by noon, I’ll take a cab.

1136a... This is the first time I check my phone. My battery has been spilling life and I need to be conservative because I plan to walk home (A website said I could do that.) and I need my map for that.

1142a... I’m second guessing myself. Which website said what? What’s the name of the market again? Where is it located because maybe I should be looking for that neighborhood instead of the name of the market that I can’t remember but am convinced I’ll recognize when I see it? Screw my phone battery, I get out of airplane mode. My internet isn't working and there’s no available WiFi.

This is where I bought my strawberries!

1144a... A gentleman asks me about a particular bus line and I’m able to answer his question in real Spanish, not my usual "ehhhh" or "uhhhh". That makes me happy. Maybe a taxi would be easier. I’ll still give it until noon, because I can’t be wrong. Multiple websites said!

1152a... Empty taxis drive by one after another. Sigh. I know. I’m being stubborn. I practice what I’ll say to the taxi driver.

12p. The church bells ring and there are no taxis in sight. I walk back the way I came, searching. I get to Calle Mesons - double take!! I see busses lined up! Where the hell were these before?

I race over - Route 8 and Route 9 pop from the windshield of the respective busses as do signs for “Mercado”, and there's also teenage boys hollering out destinations for each bus. Ohhh, now I remember… General bus info online said across from the church. El Tianguis info said busses meet near the Plaza Civica on Calle Mesones. THIS IS WHY YOU BUY A GUIDE BOOK. Or take notes when you research.

Cecina pic courtesy of Valen at EatingtheGlobe.com

1230p

El Tianguis is at least the size of a mall wing. Massive. Online, people claim its the size of three football fields, but people online are prone to hyperbole. 

Vendors sell everything from heaven to hell. Food, clothes, electronics, cheese graters, baby ducks, pizza with fries on top (I need to research this more), furniture, glasses (optical and drinking), etc.

I’m overwhelmed. I knew I would be. I have three targets: a pop-up thing for the back of my cell phone, a coconut milk drink, and cecina tacos. In my rabbit hole of research a food bloggist raved about cecina tacos, which I’ve never heard of before and was dying to try. Apparently, cecina is a moist cured beef and the taco is served with cooked onions and french fries on top. 

Gordita a la random señora

I look all over. I forgot the name of the meat, but I know it starts with the letter C and I remember what the pictures of the beef look like. I get my phone thing. When I start to feel bad about myself for being an anxious, bad-note-taking traveler, I buy groceries, including some chorizo and potatoes for a future badass breakfast.

I circle every food stand I spot and I’m losing hope. And I’m starving. I pass a woman eating a gordita with an empty seat next to her. I double back and sit down. Ask her what she’s eating, I don’t understand what she says, but I ask the server for one. The woman seems flattered that I appreciate her taste, but we don’t become friends because she’s got one on her other side. 

My gordita is filled with pinto beans, peppers and some other veggies? All I know is its GOOD. And where I'm eating looks to be an all woman operation, so that's also GOOD.

Meat for days

Suddenly, I see a C-word I don’t understand at the food stand next to us! I order it. It doesn’t look like the internet picture. I look up the word- ribs. Okay. I’m done.

On my way out, I buy a chicharron bigger than my head. It bugs me that I couldn’t find the holy grail beef taco, but now I have another goal.

Later that night, I swing by Jardinrama, for fried shrimp tacos per Mark’s suggestion. Everyone I know who lives in San Miguel has recommended this gem to me at least once. I love the atmosphere. I’m the only person there and I adore it, though it makes me lonely for my fella, and my Stella, and all of my other people who would love it here, too. We could have a great party at this place.

Jardinrama: Saving a place for you, my loves