I tried to get back to Montreal today, but it would seem that God had other plans.
My flight was to leave Mexico City at 9:40 am, so Padre Roberto and I left Cuernavaca around 6:30. One hour of driving would get me to the airport two hours before departure… or so I thought.
It was not to be. We drove through pounding rain and heavy winds, only to be turned back by the federal police. The highway was closed.
Every first Wednesday of the month Padre Roberto picks up his parents and takes them out to a restaurant for brunch. Today was no exception. What made it different was having a Canadian visitor to tag along!
I don’t think they were expecting to see me, but I must say we got along famously. A funny moment came when they asked Padre Roberto to translate for them when they would speak to me — when in fact I understood everything (or at least up until that point).
The last time I was in Mexico I wrote about how my real test of Spanish knowledge did not involve writing exams or recieving diplomas. No, the real test was taking a taxi.
Well, today was my second test/diploma, and it was even more dramatic.
Padre Roberto and I took that day off today and went to visit Mexico City. Well, actually, most of the country took the day off, as today was a national holiday dedicated to honouring the Mexican constitution. Well, actually, that day is on February 5, not Feb 1, but they transferred the holiday to give people a long weekend. (Why they didn’t consider that a Fri-Sat-Sun long weekend is just as long as a Sat-Sun-Mon long weekend is beyond me, but I digress…)
