San Cristobal de las Casas has its hooks in me. “Desire” moves me from one town to the next, and “desire” has been absent since I arrived here. The climate at 2200 meters is a pleasant change after the heat of the Yucatan. The people are most friendly with a large indigenous population. While there are a lot of tourists here, if I ride my bike several kilometers out of town and stop at a roadside comedor for a Coca-Cola, I am once again an oddity that must be investigated. I enjoy these encounters immensely. I approach them with a big smile and gregarious attitude. First, there is initial shock that there is a gringo is at the door shouting “buenas dias” and wanting a soda, after they recover from that, they fetch me a drink and watch from a distance. I make myself comfortable at the plastic table and chairs that are always in front of each comedor and act like I got all the time in the world. Often times the first one to get up the courage to check the gringo out is a child. If its a boy he will always start by looking at (but not touching) the bicycle. If it’s girls they will say the one English word they know, maybe “hello” then run away giggling. I have had some interesting conversations with Mestizo women at comedors, they are often very curious about me. the indigenous women less so, they tend to remain aloof and watch from a distance (but not always). Spanish is a second language for many of the indigenous. The lengthiest conversations I have had have been with other men who are on break from work and stop and share the table with me. Usually they come in groups and there is often one who has worked in the States and knows a little English and is eager to use it. I have never had a bad experience at these roadside rests. I can’t ever remember someone giving a mean look or treating me like I wasn’t welcome there . It’s always a rich cultural experience that both sides enjoy and often culminates with the realization that we are not much different. Same problems, same joys, same aspirations.