I felt a twinge as I pulled out of Cosolea to head to Xalapa, despite having only had the right to call it my home for 4 days. I felt like I was leaving a part of me there as we left the torrential rain behind us and headed overnight to the city, the state capital. The main motive behind the journey was to sort out some paperwork, which Mexicans seem to live for. We needed to change our immigration status so that we can stay here a year without problems. The fact is that if we don’t we can stay here but we won’t be allowed to leave, which in the long run probably isn’t ideal. Unfortunately, we are still to get this sorted, as we were told when we rocked up with our wodge of completed forms and specially-commissioned photos that we actually need to go to Coatzacoalcos to get it sorted; Coatzacoalcos is 30km from where we live. The irony reeks. However, we made the most of our 300 pesos bus ticket, and visited the manmade lakes in the city, most of its coffee shops, Xico waterfalls, Coatepec coffee plantations, the anthropology museum, and the State theatre for a concert by the Philharmonic Orchestra. Jeremy, the assistant based in Xalapa, showed us his school and shared his life with us for a few days, and through him we got to meet some locals. We also experienced Mexican karaoke. Boy do they know how to do it. Much dancing, a sprinkling of tequila, a fair amount of bad singing and lots of merriment were the gout du jour in ‘K Bar’, and I didn’t even question the bar man when he brought me a mystery shot ‘on the house’ – perhaps my exuberant pale-white-girl attempts at barefoot salsa dancing warranted a free drink for sheer daring, or maybe they thought if they got me drunk enough I would stop trying to sing or dance.
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