San Luis Potosi Plaza De Armas
In the upper regions of the state, you will find agriculture with an array of crops consisting of wheat, maize, beans and cotton. In the lowlands, you could see sugar, coffee, tobacco, peppers and fruit. Cattle ranching is also a thriving industry. Some, but not a lot, of wooden furniture and handicrafts are available. There used to be a great deal of silver mining, too, but that industry has declined.
After showering, I had to fight my way out of a bathroom that was only big enough to accommodate one butt cheek. I managed to slide out of the gang shower, out of the bathroom, and into the hotel room to dry off and dress.
Sometimes, mainly in older Mexican hotels, not a great deal of thought goes into bathroom construction. I had to back into the bathroom in order to use the toilet, then creep sideways like a crab to enter the shower. There just wasn’t room to turn around without bumping into the sink, falling over the toilet, or tripping over the inch-high lip that was supposed to keep the water inside the shower stall. The shower had no door or curtain, just a partial wall, so water went everywhere and soaked everything in the bathroom. I had to leave my tissue-thin bath towel (it was only slightly larger than a hand towel) on the bed so it would at least, in all its expansive glory, be dry!
So, enough of that, we were off to breakfast.
We breakfasted in this little cafÃ?© off the hotel’s lobby. That was another thing that endeared this place to me. It is a small diner with only four tables and the kitchen right there so you could watch your breakfast being made. The food was cheap but good. It would have been much better had we not had the privilege of watching the lovely and sweet-natured Mexican cook make our meal with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth with an three-inch ash just aching to fall into my huevos revueltos. Though odds were stacked against us, we managed to get “ash-less” eggs. After finishing, we ran for the main plaza. I was afraid the eggs come back on me after the sight I had just witnessed. We never ate there again even though the food was cheap and the location was convenient.
You’ve got to realize that a great deal of travel writing is sitting and observing what goes on about you. I once had this anthropologist become offended when I told him that when I am out doing the traveling writing gig, I not only watch and record what I see, but I eavesdrop on conversations. You get some of your best stuff that way. This time, what I got was an eyeful instead of an earful.
We made our way to Plaza de Armas, San Luis Potosi’s main plaza. We discovered it is a wonderfully appealing little square plaza to sit in the cool waiting for the city to completely awaken. Everywhere in the plaza were well-groomed little areas of grass fenced off with two-foot-high green cast-iron fencing. In the grassy areas, there were signs that read,
“No pisar en el cesped.” – Don’t walk on the grass.
Apparently one of San Luis Potosi’s finest citizens didn’t see that sign. There he was in his bum outfit, complete with a small cloud of dust (like Pigpen on Charlie Brown) following him as he walked, cavorting on the grass. He walked to one of the fountains and proceeded to unload his pockets. He pulled out a cell phone, assorted bottles of what looked like potions, and a notebook. He laid them neatly on the fountain’s edge. Then, he proceeded to throw up with a vociferous vigor that was, frankly, hard to ignore. I ran for the church, La Catedral, hoping sanctuary would await me!
This is a normal thing almost anywhere you go in this country, or for that matter, most anyplace else on the planet. There will always be someone who has had one too many, whose fashion sense is severely challenged, who missed the lesson on what soap and water are for, and who WALKS ON THE GRASS when he’s not supposed to. At least, I comforted myself, it was early enough that the police would soon find the hurling bum and cart him off to a warm drunk tank somewhere else. At least, that was what I hoped.
But, the event did not spoil my enjoyment of Plaza de Armas.
Plaza de Armas is one of the most inviting and hospitable plazas I think I’ve ever sat in. And I sat, and I sat, doing nothing for most of the morning. That’s why I like writing so much. You sit down, write what you see, write about what you eat, what you hear (bums throwing up in fountains), and then you get paid when you send it into some publisher. This is what I do and actually get paid for it.
What a life!
