Whilst traveling back home from my long journey  I was thinking of all the ways I would like to start this episode. 

Given that I absorb so much that I see around the city I find it utterly complicated to concisely describe what I observe in a pragmatic and objetive way without getting confused or bored and going off the tangent.

Anyways, I reached the meeting point last night where I was to see Sergio, after travelling on a very long journey from the deep south to the far north of Mexico City. 

He picked me up in his car and we drove even further north, miles from home in fact. 

Night time in Mexico City is so much more enjoyable than having to travel during the chaotic day time. 

As we were driving I was admiring the lights and solitude whilst thinking of titles for other stories related to night time that I wish to write soon; one I though about was, ‘The light is yours though the night time is mine, pretty cheesy and lacking imagination to be fair…

Sergio is the team leader for the human resources team of a company that works on healthcare services. He devotes long hours to his job. As part of his role, he has to travel throughout the country, one week he is in Tijuana and the next one he might be in Cancun or elsewhere.

He dresses in a smart suit to go to work and speaks with a proper and refined Spanish accent though when it is time for him to be free, he turns to his dirty painted clothes in order to hit the streets and paint some colourful letters. On some occasions he has turned up to work smart and clean with the exception of his nails and parts of his hands stained with paint marks which his colleagues have noticed, Sergio says.

After a long and tiring night, Sergio opened the front door to his Mom’s house for me to stay over night as we finished our trip quite late and there was no way I would manage to get back home from his ends. 

His generous hospitality amazes me. Before we head to sleeping for a few hours he offered me all sorts of things to eat such as fruit, cereal, jelly, etc… I always say it, Mexican people are so generous in general. 

The next morning, we headed to his kitchen where his Mom was cooking us some typical Mexican breakfast, eggs and green sauce accompanied with tortillas and coffee with milk.

His Mom is a cook and works as one too. I believe that she provides her services to companies that organise events though I am not entirely sure as I did not ask her for more details.

She is a devoted catholic too and believes that anything you do, either good or bad, can and will be returned back at you. 

As we chat about food matters, all of a sudden the conversation deviates to discussing the 43 disappeared students of Ayotzinapa case. I explain to Sergio and his Mom that feeling empathy is so important in this country and everywhere else. It’s important to understand and acknowledge that so many issues exist in this country and that the only way we can fix this mess is by being better people to ourselves and to others around us.

We go in further details to talk about Julio Cesar Mondragón’s case, one of the students who was killed during the Ayotzinapa tragedy. His assassination was brutal as the skin of his face was ripped off whilst he was still alive. Such a terrible episode! one that was certainly not pleasant to talk about during the early morning. The three of us felt much empathy regarding this atrocity but we had to switch the conversation for obvious reasons.

Sergio’s Mom also mentioned about the news this week that a bunch of masked up juveniles spread petrol onto a bus and blocked its way through. We were not able to find out the reasons for this grave incident though I posed the point that I could not understand why people behave in such savage ways…Education is the key to changing this country, I further commented, and added, - If we do not educate the future generations accordingly, we will keep hearing about these awful events.

We finished off our breakfast and I tried to wash all the dishes though Sergio’s Mom was simply not having it. We then said good by to her and headed over to the train yard to catch some pictures and meet some people on the tracks.

As we arrived to the train tracks, I spotted a man with many layers of clothes who was holding two big bottles of water. His face was covered by a long black beard and looked very tired. 

I also saw another man further down the tracks, sleeping underneath a small tree to protect himself from the sun rays. 

I tried to speak to both of them to find out whether they were waiting to jump on the train to travel towards the USA but they looked scared and confused and completely disengaged, which I could completely understand. 

A gathering of families and friends was going on a few steps away from them. Tasty food was being cooked and the local Sunday baseball match was going on but those two migrants were certainly not welcomed to the party. 

I cannot imagine the feeling of frustration and dispare that one in their shoes must feel. I believe the two men were tired, hungry, sad, confused, exhausted, angry etc. but held on to the dream of reaching the north one day to try and cross the border to improve their life.

Sergio and I both reflected on the situation for a few minutes as we headed over to the train station where I would finally be catching the train home.

During the ride I noticed a man spitting fire for a living by the traffic lights. I had not seen that in quite some time in fact. It’s visually quite shocking and agresive. Just knowing that the man is slowly killing himself due to the chemicals his body is absorbing sadness me. As he was taking breaks between traffic lights he would spit the petrol out of his mouth and refreshing it by sipping on coca-cola, - what a combination… I had a quick chat with him and handed him a few pesos which would not make a difference to him actually.

We got off the car and walked a few hundred meters until we encountered Ivan from San Marcos, Guatemala who is also on route to Tijuana. From that point he will try his luck to cross the Mexican -USA Border illegally to live a better life.

I said hello to him and asked him a few questions. He was quite a friendly chap, considering all the adversities he has gone through in order to get to the outskirts of Mexico City. It has taken him 2 months to get there and was almost killed by some thugs a few blocks away from where we were standing. 

As he is telling me this with a very positive look in his face he point towards his hand which has a long scar, an indication that the thugs tried to cut it open.

I gave him a few pesos that I had in my pocket and felt pretty disappointed and embarrassed with myself for not be able to help him more. We shook hands and wished him all the very best in his crossing…

Sergio and I also parted ways, myself to my comfortable southern part of the city whist Sergio drove to his nice and suburban part of town to meet up with his Mom once again.