Adventure #2: I’m with the band

So Mike is a small town rock star, and he had said that I should come along to see his band on Saturday evening. And then on Friday I reminded him to give me the name of the bar, and he was a little surprised. It transpired that he’s going to be playing there every Saturday night, and I felt kind of stupid and overeager, but I’d already said I’d go.

This was my second trip into Texcoco, the first on my own, and my first entanglement with a Mexican bus. My adventure did not begin auspiciously. I walked a deceptively long way down the highway to get to an underpass where cars can get to the other side and where I knew there was a bus stop on the other side. I have since vowed never to set foot in the underpass again, and have nominated it My Least Favourite Place in Mexico. It smells, it is lit by a sickly yellow light, across the ‘road’ flows a filthy stream. Which is fine if you’re a car, but not so fine if you’re a person. There are a couple of tiny, untrustworthy-looking stepping stones leering up at you, but in the end I opted for a kind of tiptoeing wade where it was ‘shallow’.

Later Mike told me you can just flag the bus down by the side of the road. Doh.

I had a few errands to run, and wandering around Texcoco in the dark was kind of odd. Somehow exemplified by the deserted, neon-lit coffin shop, containing nothing but a number of coffins neatly wrapped in plastic. It seemed rather macabre, especially when I saw the SECOND neon-lit coffin shop. (Yes, it was definitely a different one.)

Meeting a whole load of people at the bar was my first introduction to Mexican etiquette, the rudiments of which can be summarised as follows:
- When someone arrives whom you know, or are introduced to, you either shake hands or kiss them (once, to the left), or probably both.
- Everyone says hello to and embraces and is friendly with everyone else, regardless of generation.
- Interaction is encouraged, especially smiling, laughter and general merriment.
- When you leave, you must say goodbye to everyone, even if you’re not entirely (or at all) sure who they are. You kiss, shake hands, or probably both.

It was all a bit intimidating at first, especially because hardly anyone was there when I arrived (10pm? Practically afternoon…). I was introduced to two very nice but non-English-speaking Mexicans and sat there feeling like a bit of a lemon. However, one of them (a man) did have an excellent enormous moustache displayed to perfection on a small and very smiley bald head, which required a certain amount of quiet, discreet and admiring gazing in itself, much like the better class of art gallery.

As the evening went on it got less scary and more fun, as more people arrived for me to meet and the band started their set. They play rock and roll of the fun, chair-dancing kind where Mike got to do that thing where you run your hand all the way up the keyboard and off the end in a flourish. The man can sing too. In fact, I suspect he can do everything. Pchah. I talked the drummer in the band, and a boy who seems to do an impossible amount of things, including a degree in making false limbs that move (not the technical name I’m sure), and first aid and some kind of civil guard and Very Serious Boy Scouting (which is Not At All Amusing).

Somehow, by the time midnight rolled round I was getting sorry to leave. But I had to, or I would’ve turned into a pumpkin.