Music Sin Fronteras is in Los Angeles, where we will be until New Years, re-absorbing the LALA Land vibes and broadcasting with LA guests. We drove 1500 miles through Mexico from Chapala in Jalisco State to San Diego. Flying was not an option because Chula The Studio Dog came with us, and at 90 pounds, she can’t fly in coach and we refuse to put her in a cargo hold. Besides this gives me a car in LA to go to clubs and report on the music scene there for a month.
When I tell people I drove through Mexico, people say “ Isn’t that dangerous?” I have to smile. No, it is not. There are adventures to be had, some planned ad some not, and common sense is required, the same as in the US or Canada.
There are differences, of course, besides the language and a lack of McDonald’s (but not Subways) and in many places traffic laws are…guidelines. An example is passing in no-passing lanes on two-lane roads. Sometimes the 4-lane divided highways in Mexico’s modern toll-road system are reduced to two-lane roads that busses and trucks treat like 4-lane roads. Busses will pull into the oncoming lane to pass a slow truck on its left while another truck comes headlong at them. No problema. The three vehicles turn the breakdown lanes into extra lanes as they squeeze by each other – the bus in the center on the yellow lines, the two trucks halfway on the road ad halfway in the breakdown lane, all at 65 miles an hour. Scary the first time you see it, but becomes routine after a while.
Part of the reason it is safe and relatively fast to drive in Mexico is the toll-based highway system or couta. The couta roads are built to US standards, have a maximum speed limit of 110 km (about 65 mph), and offer free insurance in case you are in an accident. They are also the home of the Green Angels, a Federally financed AAA-type service delivered through an army of green-painted pickup trucks that can fix flats, charge batteries, and help with roadside problems. And of course, since they are toll roads, they have toll booths some of which are rouge and some of which are rogue-rogue, but more of that later.
Tolls range from $3 to $9 and can be paid in either pesos or dollars, but pesos ae fastest and easiest. The toll booths are often surrounded by taco stands, tiendas ( shops), and gas stations. There are usually legions of trucks parked on the roadside with the drivers resting after going through the toll booths. We were spending about $$45 a day on tolls, handing our money into the toll takers in the modern steel and glass structures, which also sported electronic toll collection for trucks and buses and some cars with transponders.
Very orderly and efficient. However, as with all things in Mexico, there are “variations”. When the Federal government built the toll roads they bypassed villages, which made sense because no homes had to be destroyed and no stop signs needed to slow traffic through a pueblo. But the bypass often robbed the villages of lucrative market traffic and subject them tolls too to drive through their own gown, So the villages ask for a share of the tolls, the Federal government said no, so the villagers take over the toll booths and collect the money for themselves.
The Feds usually ignore the high jacking because it is a very small amount of money, the local toll booth personnel live in the village and are sympathetic, and the Feds don’t want to get into a public fight with the campesinos they are supposed to represent. From the drivers’ point of view, it is great. The villages put up a banner, stand out by the road waving signs and playing music, and generally having a party. They ask you to put money into a bucket, but usually, don’t care how much or suggest an amount about half the usual toll. And they are happy to pose for photos and selfies.
The rogue-rogue toll booths are even more interesting. The four-lane toll roads sometimes peter out into two-lane roads that go through villages. At these points, villagers set out barrels to squeeze traffic into one narrow lane, the rest of the road being blocked by a tractor-trailer or farm machinery. When you pull up to a stop indicated by a plastic barrel, you are surrounded by laughing, dancing, high school students playing music on iPhone speakers and shaking rattles. In my case, an attractive teen couple with big smiles held a plastic bowl by the window. I could see that it only had coins in it and I had a 20 peso note handy so I put it in the bowl. They elicited cheers, rattle shaking, and big grins all around.
I asked the couple what the money was for in my bad Spanish and the girl told me in her good Spanglish that is was for the futbol playfield at her school. That sounded so good I gave them another 20 pesos. More cheers, rattle shaking and smiles – and then the girl put her head into my window and gave me a big kiss on the cheek. I almost gave her all of my money.
There were many encounters like that: the fierce-looking soldier with the machine gun at a checkpoint who broke into a smile and asked me if I knew his aunt and uncle in San Diego when I told him where we were going; the desk clerk in Hermosilla who left his post to walk across the busy 4-lane street to the parking garage to help us with Chula and our bags; the maids in Mazatlan who chased after us because we left Chula’s water bowl in the room, among others.
So we are now in LALA Land, booking dates to see and review acts and setting up our show for Friday. We will see you online every week.
