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Adventures in Unknown Mexico
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19559 |
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Section : |
LIFE
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| Issue
Date : |
11 / 1991 |
3,131 Words |
| Author
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Gregory McNamee
Gregory McNamee often travels in Mexico. He is the author of
The Return of Richard Nixon and six other books. |
The terrified call for help came one midwinter afternoon as I sipped a glass of iced tea under the shade tree in my front yard, watching a southern Arizona day go by.
"It's me," a panicked acquaintance whispered over the phone. "We broke down somewhere south of Hermosillo, and we're miles away from the nearest mechanic. I had to hitch an hour-long ride just to find a phone. I don't have any cash left. I don't know a word of Spanish. This is my first time in Mexico! There's a guy with me who picked me up. Can you talk to him and make sure he's not trying to rip me off?"
"Sure," I said. A soft norteno voice came on the receiver and explained that he'd found my frightened acquaintance wandering along Mexico 15 and had brought him to his home. He had no tools, and the nearest service station was indeed sixty miles away--and, to top it off, was closed for the weekend. The Mexican gentleman could do nothing more than return the jittery gringo to his car.
I asked to speak to my acquaintance and explained that he had nothing to worry about, that he had found a friend. Go back with him to your car, I said, and wait for los Angeles Verdes.
"The what?"
"The Green Angels. Roving mechanics who'll fix your car for free if it's a simple repair, courtesy of the local chamber of commerce. Just wait for them. They'll make sure you get back to the border safely."
My acquaintance's fear began to subside. "Tell this man here that I'd like his address so I can send him some money."
The Mexican samaritan politely refused the translated offer. "Just ask the senor to finish his conversation, please. It costs a fortune to call the United States."
The Green Angels had repaired the gringo's broken fuel pump long before he returned. They escorted him into Hermosillo, a thriving town of some half a million inhabitants four hours south of Tucson, Arizona, bought him and his family a good steak dinner, and sent him on his way--all free of charge.
"Boy, was I scared," he told me later. "What with all the things you hear bout Mexico these days, I thought I was a dead man for
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