My hole in the wall.

Since returning to GDL on Wednesday, I’m back at Casa Vilasanta for two weeks, until I can find a job and an apartment. The hostel is fully booked for the first week, so the only room available is a cave-like single under the stairs with no window except a transom. However, the situation is not as bad as it sounds, because I am traveling with a ton of luggage, including two of the biggest suitcases known to humankind (I can fit inside them–I tested it), and hauling it all up to the mezzanine would turn the hostel staff into the hostile staff. So, I shall remain under the stairs, like a troll in a fairy tale.

Muy pequeno

The only daylight

I have five suitcases plus two boxes and a gym bag that I left here last month…maybe a bit much?

GDL/Chicago.

I’ve mentioned to several people that, if Mexico City is the New York City of Mexico, Guadalajara seems to me like the Mexican version of Chicago — maybe not the gentrified Chicago of today, but the Chicago I lived in and loved in the 80s and early 90s. As I walked around today (and walked, and walked), the basis for the comparison became clearer:

1. It’s a big city, but not the biggest. It has all the stuff, but it isn’t as non-stop and hectic as Numero Uno.
2. It’s a city of neighborhoods. True, Guadalajara neighborhoods look different from Chicago neighborhoods, but most of the city is made up of one- or two-story houses, so the density is similar.
3. It’s mixed-use and kind of rundown in the way the Near West Side (Wicker Park, Bucktown, Logan Square) used to be.  There are little bodegas and taquerias and cervezerias on nearly every block, and houses are mixed in with tire shops and upholsterers and vacuum cleaner repair shops. I get the sense that it’s possible to find raw or unfinished or former commercial space that can be turned into a really cool pad, as you could in Chicago back in the day. (I’m thinking Pudlowville…)
4. It’s highly walkable. When I moved to Chicago from Madison, WI, in 1982, I walked all over the city just soaking up the urban vibe. That was harder to do when I moved to Los Angeles in 1992. Here, I’m rediscovering the pleasure of setting out on foot with no clear direction and just seeing what I find.

I just have to remember to wear socks.