Finally, some of our American expat friends are beginning to wake up to the ranting and raving Ive been doing about living in Guanajuato. Now, if youve been reading my columns on a regular basis you know from time to time I lose my mind, rather totally, and go all Pancho Villa about life in Guanajuato.
Mind you, I am not talking about normal Mexican things. I am not talking about things like stores never opening when they say they will. I am talking not about the traditional, provincial Mexican custom of never showing up on time for anything. I am not talking about never offering so much as a How-Do-You-Do when the kindly Mexican is asked why he didnt call to cancel an appointment by his good anal-attentive American pal. Thats not what I mean.
I have been talking about things in my columns like getting shoved off the sidewalk into the path of a bus manned by someone who thinks he is a racecar driver. I am talking about calling for the bottled water to get delivered only to have it finally come after youve died from thirst and your body was shipped back to the States three months ago. Thats what I mean.
My friend sent me a story today. She is one who has...
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