The Bougainvillea Curtain

This morning in the kitchen of the guest house where I am staying I had a conversation with a guest who lives in Guadalajara.  I told her that while Canada has a high standard of living it has little if anything to match the charm of Mexico.  This country has a lot of charm, as well as history and culture and incredible beauty, natural and artistic.  It may not be an easy place to spend time in but to the senses it is intoxicating to the point of leaving one feeling completely sensorally overloaded.  Is it any wonder that so many Canadians keep returning here, despite the corruption, the pollution, the social inequality, the gang violence, etcetera.  As I have previously mentioned my social conscience does seem to have run ahead of my aesthetic needs and for this reason I do not feel I can return to this country, at least not in the next few years.  While I am back in Canada I will likely feel tempted, lured and seduced by the sweeter memories of this place, then foolishly return only to be splashed in the face with the reality of the toxic public water this country is notorious for.  I will make a point of rereading these posts whenever I feel tempted.
     Speaking of toxic water, during this trip I have been using hand sanitizer all the time, whenever water touches my hands, after using public transit, before eating, after using a computer.  It seems to be working as I go home in three days and I still haven't been sick (touch wood!)
     The sounds of a neighbourhood in Mexico in the morning can be very diverse, from the sweetness of birdsong to an incredible range of human dissonance.  This morning there was some fellow outside selling cooking gas from his truck, and he was out in the street hollering repeatedly, ''Gassss!!!!!!''  but it sounds like Waaaaauuuugh!!!!!, or as though he himself is suffering from gas. Meanwhile another fellow was whistling manically while directing cars.  Mexican men have this peculiar toneless whistle they use while directing cars to park that at first sounds amusing but after prolonged exposure can be very irritating.  Around the same time another fellow was riding a gigantic tricycle hocking what appeared to be tamales.  Attached to his tricycle was a recorded voice message announcing in a loud, metallic, almost robotic tone, ''Tamales oaxaquinos, calientes, deliciosos tamales, tamales muy ricos, tamales oaxaquinos,'' over and over and over again, which translates as Tamales of Oaxaca, hot, delicious, tamales, very tasty tamales, tamales of Oaxaca.
     You know, lately I have been trying to visualize the neighbourhoods I love here without the bougainvillea, and they don't seem that attractive after all.