a Novel by Marilee Manz

Tag: #highway

Leaving Mexico City

A mellower sun

It was their last morning in Mexico City and Cheryl was determined to sit outside on the rooftop patio for her breakfast. She gingerly walked out and looked up. The sky was grey with a haze that kept the sunshine at bay: it would not be her enemy today. A mellower sun hung in the east like a round yolk just to the right side of the cathedral. It was sweet to see it rise above the square Zocalo.

They left Mexico City for Puebla that morning and spread out on their full size bus. There were only fifteen travelers, including Daniel and Jose the driver, so they each had their own seat. This initially looked like a good arrangement, but it kept the travelers from getting to know each other. It kept Cheryl lonely.

Cheryl sat a few rows from the front of the bus where Daniel sat. She watched happily out the window when a restaurant with a large sign came into view. The yellow sign said Vips. “Daniel,” she yelled, “is this what you meant when you said Beeps?”

He looked where she pointed, “yes.”

“Okay, thanks.” Cheryl popped back down.

Daniel thought it was a weird question. She was full of weird questions. After a few kilometers he stood up and held the microphone to his lips.

“Just letting you know that we are driving past two very important volcanoes.  Iztaccíhuatl, that means white woman, and Popocatepetl, or smoking hill. You can begin to see them on this side, and we will pull off the road at a better location. Hopefully there won’t be clouds or pollution and we’ll be able to see them clearly.”

Cheryl took shaky photos through the window of snow covered mountains that evolved into volcanoes. Iztaccihuatl was visible first; a series of snow covered peaks that resembled a woman lying down. Popocatepetl appeared next and was the quintessential volcano shape: a round peak with snow on the top and puffs of white smoke. Their bus pulled off the road and they unloaded into a field. There they both were, both volcanoes smoking, and both so much a part of the lore, myth, and history of the Mexican people who trace their ancestry from mountains. The travelers took pictures of themselves and each other. Debbie insisted they take one of her and Cheryl, so she could look at it later and remember that “crazy Aussie lady.”

Back on the bus Cheryl noticed that Daniel was not pronouncing the ancient Mexica sound of “tl” correctly. It was a tull sound you made by holding your tongue against your teeth. This sound did not add another syllable as it was a consonant, and not a syllable. The word tepetl, which meant hill in Nahuatl, was only two syllables: te-petl, but when Daniel said it he made it three syllables: te-pet-tul. Cheryl remembered the pronunciation from university.

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