The sun pours through the open Colonial Spanish balcony doors next to my hostel bed. I grab my coffee that I acquired from a restaurant I found on my morning walk and I sit in the warm light. Below me is the hustle of the street. Cars drive on loose 'cobblestone' street tiles, clicking as they roll over them. The 400 year old cathedral begins to toll its bells a block away. A train whistles in the distance, street dogs bark all around. A car alarm here or there.
I'm in Zacatecas, a city with a very successful mining history. It's situated in the Sierra Madre mountains 2488m above sea level (8,200 Ft.). The sun is warm but the air is brisk and cold. The locals wear thick winter coats and beanies when walking around in the morning or night. It gets down to the single digits in Celsius (30s, F) up here. Minnesotans would call it 'sweater weather' on the tail end of Winter. Here, it's as cold as it gets.
It's late January. It's out of season for tourism. The students are back at school and the city isn't well known for many international visitors. Because of this, I've only met one white woman who is in the all-girls bunk room in my hostel. She's a doctor from France who is my age and is also looking to travel the Americas for a few years like myself. Other than that, only 2 Mexican men have passed through the hostel. I'm in a room with 12 beds and out of 3 nights I've been alone for 2 of them.
When I first arrived at the hostel I asked for the price of a private room until I found the shared bunk room completely empty. I decided to take it for the 4 nights I'm here, which costs about as much as a private room does for 1 night. Quite a score.
The lack of tourism has people staring at me. You get used to it. When you're in a place like Mexico, you're either in a town full of tourism or none at all. Here, the tourists are other Mexicans. I like it that way, because I can work on my Spanish which is proving to be quite hard.
"You're in Mexico!" You might retort: "How could it be hard to improve Spanish?"
English is everywhere. TV channels will have US shows that are subtitled in Spanish. Locals under the age of 35 have typically taken enough classes to carry on basic conversations if they find a lost tourist. The hostel goers, no matter WHERE they are from (be it Europe, Africa, or Asia) speak English as a common form of communication.
Even though I'm travelling alone, I still find myself using English about 50% of my day. It's on the apps on my phone and with the fellow tourists I'm talking to. I'm using it right here as I'm writing.
I'm starting to think my Spanish will never be as good as the English of my fellow hostel goers. There's just no way to completely shirk myself of it. My future travels will hopefully have me using the language even more. I'm trying to dive even deeper into the language.
I found myself without things to do today. That's okay, because my motorcycle required some more adhesive and it needs to dry for 24 hours. It was leaking again.
I've been to mines, museums, local architecture, went off-roading a bit, and sampled local cuisine. I've made videos for all of it and researched what I'm going to visit next. At this moment, I'm shifted into neutral and there isn't much to do. I'm not bored or restless. In fact I'm happy I have the extra time.
If you're still reading this, you may feel bored yourself. Things aren't 'happening' at the moment. It will soon though, as I'm backtracking back to the coast for a motorcycle rally. It may prove to be exactly what I'm looking for.
-JT
1/27/2022