Downtown

La la la la, la la....downtown!  I don't know any other words to that song.  Do you know what I'm talking about?! Anyway, yesterday, after a difficult-ish day (4th and 5th thankfully made up for 1st's behavior), I decided I wanted to meander downtown a bit.  I needed to mail my ballot, and I thought some Morelos food would perk me up!  I also had brought my cash with me (guarded with my life) to exchange since the rate seemed to be so good.  I got off at the downtown stop and got some ice cream "for my throat."  It was cookies and cream and delicioso.  Then it was off to the bank.  The rate was 10.87 for buying dollars and 11.08 for selling.  I came out 35 dollars ahead of my last transaction.  I came to Mexico with $1000 in cash and a check for 5300 pesos from Comexus.  Including my 2 rent payments of 3000 pesos, I've only spent a thousand of those dollars in a month.  (Plus a few credit card expenditures)  I'm kinda proud of myself.  I'm hopefully going to be well on my way to paying off my loan when I get back!

Anyway, the woman at the bank was very helpful and also inquisitive about why I was here, why I chose Culiacán and how I knew Spanish.  Apparently there is no fee here for changing money.  Maybe they get their "fee" with the rate, but at the rate this bank had, I can't imagine they're making any money.

On my way from the bus to the bank, I was trying to remember which bank I wanted.  I had seen it from the bus on the way to school the day before, but since the trip form school to home is different, I wasn't exactly sure where the bank was.  Also, in Culiacán, banks are like the churches in Nashville: one on every corner, and if they fit, two!

As I was passing some of the banks with not-as-good rates, I noticed the lines were out the door.  At both the ATM and inside.  What was the DEAL?!  I remembered in that moment that it was the first.  Mexicans get paid (as do Guatemalans if I remember correctly) on the 1st and 15th of every month, meaning the line at the bank is horrendous.  I passed all of those thinking, "Why in the world did I choose today to carry $500 in cold hard cash with me instead of any other day?!"

When I walked into Scotiabank, there was ONE other customer.  I'm guessing since they're practically giving pesos away for your dollars, they're not doing much other business.  I was glad to not have to wait.

I left the bank with money and passport tucked away in a super-secret compartment of my purse and tried not to look too American.  On my way back toward the taco booth, I saw a sign for Raspados (the icy drink), and I've not seen them for sale anywhere other than the stand near Mabel's dad's house.  So I stopped.  I ordered a nectarine one.  It was not as good as the others I've had because there was not as much fruit.  Also, the ice had been scooped much earlier in the day so it was crispier.  I don't know.  I didn't love it.  But good to know.  I sat in the plazuela and people watched.  I walked around a bit.  On every corner of the plazuela, there were literally 5 chairs for shoe-shining, and four of them were occupied in each corner.  I counted!  From there I moseyed some just checking out the stores, etc.  I ended at the taco place.  However, there are two side-by-side with the same name and mine was full, so I sat at the other one.  A taco's a taco and a quesadilla's a quesadilla, but I now know to wait for an empty seat at my place.  I ordered a quesadilla and a coca light.  The price was the same and the quality was almost equal, but it just wasn't the same.  I walked toward my bus stop and headed home.  It wasn't until much later that night, when digging through my purse that I realized I had forgotten to mail my ballot!  Another day, another taco!