Mexican Bus Trip (was Keep Cool but Freak out if)

[MASCARO at humnet.ucla.edu]

My memorable Mexican bus trip.  Relevant to TRP cuz he probably took a bus when he
 lived in Mexico,  A fairly long tale, so skip if you're not interested:

Three summers ago my wife and I were in Cuernavaca and decided to take a bus to 
Acapulco.  We scraped together most of our remaining cash to buy tickets on the *good* 
bus--a modern, airconditioned road whale with tall airplane-like seats, curtains over the 
windows,  bathroom, and a video projector.  This bus ride, which cost easily three times
 the *regular* bus fare for this long trip, was supposed to take us over the 
then-newly-opened *superhighway* which runs directly from Curenavaca to the West 
coast of Mexico.

Well, got on the bus fine, and pulled out of town on time.  Soon we were snuggling down
 in the dim cool light watching Michael Douglas in BLACK RAIN--dubbed into Spanish of
 course.  Whatta movie!!

Anyway, about two hours later, and literally minutes after the film ended and before we 
were about to leave the local road for the entrance ramp to the superhighway--a 
*problem* arose.  Next thing you know, the bus has pulled over to the shoulder of the
 deserted highway, and the driver and his assistant have the back flap up and are taking 
whacks at the engine with a small ball peen hammer.  We managed to communicate our 
concern about what was going on, and understood that the *water pump* had broken.
  We were told that another bus would be by to take us to Acapulco at some point.

About ten minutes later, whaddya know, another bus pulls up.  About 15-20 of us, mostly
 foreigners, get our bags and hop the *new* bus.  As we pull away, I notice that about a 
half dozen people have elected to stay with the driver and the broken bus.  


Well, the *new* bus is at least 50 years old, by the sound of its wheezing diesel.  No 
airconditioning, no bathroom, no curtains, and certainly no VCR.  What's more 
interesting, it completely bypasses the superhighway and heads up into the mountains,
 where the view is stunning, the guardrails non-existent, and, yes, the bus driver, to all 
appearances--loud singing, manic hand signs, lots of eye-rolling as he turns his head to 
shout at us incomprehensibly as we near each blind curve--is drunk!

And now we're on the local, and we stop about each half hour at tiny hardscrabble 
villages, where folks swarm the windows trying to sell us things to eat or drink, 
sometimes angrily shoving goods at us through the open windows if we don't pay 
attention.  Each one of these poor towns possessed one structure indistinguishable from 
the rest of the run-down buildings except for a shiny white satellite dish on its roof.  
Never saw more than one dish per stop, but always saw at least one.

At each stop, someone would get on the bus and for the next half hour or so would walk 
up and down the aisle trying to sell something to the passengers.  Sometimes these 
vendors were children.  My favorite was a guy dressed in a white druggist's tunic who had 
the most mellifluous, musical rap which he kept repeating until we were all hypnotized.  
My wife has spanish even if I am a near monlingual ignorant gringo.  She explained that 
he was selling medicines which would cure, among other things, cancer, prostrate 
problems, warts, evil eye, impotence and incontinence.  Each different medicine had its 
own song-like pitch, as this magical man cooed, wheedled, pleaded, scolded, a symphony 
of persuasive sounds, though no one bought anything.  The bus driver and he at one 
point got into a heated exchange, though we couldn't tell over what.
At the next stop he got off, and a different vendor got on.
Six hours later we rolled into Acapulco, though for some reason we were just dropped off
 at the edge of town instead of taken to the regular bus depot.

Later back in the states I told this story to a friend and he told me that in all likelihood the
 entire *breakdown* of the modern bus was a scam.  The idea was to get us to pay a really 
high fare, but to give us cut rate service, and above all to avoid the exorbitant tolls of the 
superhighway (which I am told can run to about $ 1000 US for a loaded bus--Ted S, who
 seems to know--is this true in your reckoning?)

A most memorable Mexican bus trip indeed.  

john m