Mexico, The Arrival

In Septmber of 1977, Jose Francisco Reyes (nick name Paco) and I planned a trek to Mexico to visit some of the archaeological sites.  Paco had a degree in anthropology and archaeology like me, and family in and around Mexico City. From 1970 to 1973, I studied Cultural Anthropology and Archaeology at Fairleigh Dickenson University at the Madison/Florham Campus in New Jersey. So, we booked round trip flights from Chicago O'Hare International with United Airlines to Mexico City, Federal District, Mexico. Money exchange was in our favor, 22 pesos to the U.S. dollar. Our flight tickets were about $300 round trip. We had planned being there for four weeks to see everything we had studied ahead of time. We were interested in experiencing the city beneath the city, Tenochtitlan; San Juan Teotihuacan in the state of Mexico; Tula (de Allende) in Hildago state; and a long journey to Chichen Itza down in the Yucatan state to see the Aztec ball courts. Besides, Paco had family living in Mexico City, FD; Penjamo and San Miguel de Allende in Guanajuato; and Taxco (del Alarcon) in the state of Guerrero. Not only were we going to see ancient pyramids and sites, we were going to experience the genuine culture of contemporary everyday life, that is, non-touristo in Mexico.

We chose to go in September because the weather would be nice and we would be able to celebrate Mexico's Independence Day on September 16th. Besides, Paco and I would be able to pack away some more bucks before the trip during the Summer of '77. I wanted to take about $5,000 with me; gold in the U.S.A. was $700 or more an ounce, but in Mexico it was less than $150 U.S. Dollars an ounce. I didn't want to come up short to take advantage of every opportunity as it presented itself. I'd turned 25 in 1976 when our country celebrated its bicentennial, so Paco and I were young men in their mid-twenties and prime when we embarked on this adventure. In those days I had dark brown bushy hair that could be brushed into an Afro, but would return to wild billowing sails blowing around my face. Some thought maybe I might have a little African blood in me.  Most of the Mexican people I met thought I was either one of them because of my olive complexion (and pigmentation) 
that turned very dark from the Mexican sun, or of European Spanish origin with my hazel eyes. Ifhey only knew that my ancestors were Eastern European (semitic) with a jig of a tartar clan.

The last Thursday in August of 1977, we took off to Mexico. We wouldn't return until the first Tuesday in October. We both packed our bags with hiking, backpacking, and camping gear. We also packed both everyday and some dress clothes for when weren't exploring. We packed several cartons of Marlboro cigarettes as gifts and bribery tokens. At that time you could buy a carton of cigarettes 

for under $8. I remember when we landed I noticed that the bus terminal was larger than the airport. It was still very warm weather when stepped down out of the airplane onto the tarmac. We found our bags and walked over to the bus concourse.

The name of the bus company was Amarillo Estretcha, or the Yellow Arrow, like we have Greyhound and Trailways. The manufacturer was called Dana, like we have Bluebird and Peterbuilt. Now, did I take a ribbing having the same name as a bus-maker. Now, I thought about using my middle name, George, but in Spanish it's Jorge (pronounced Horhay) and the sound of it made me feel like a gigolo. So, I stayed with my first name they pronounced "Donya." Some of my acquaintances called me Daniel which was fine with me just as long I could remember all of my aka names. We boarded and arrived in Mexico City proper at the bus depot. Mario, one of Paco's cousins, met us there in his taxi cab. He helped us with our baggage and loaded them in the taxi cab.

Skyline of Modern Mexico City