The Bridge

We went on a beautiful hike.  However, this is not a hike that people take for fun around here, they do it out of necessity.  There are very few people in town who have cars... I can name them.  To get anywhere big enough to have a supermarket, bank, clothing, etc., they have to take the bus.  Except you can't just walk out to the street and hop on the bus.  The bus stop is up on the federal highway (across the river).  Walking on the road would take you way out of the way about two miles, not to mention it is narrow and curvy, thus dangerous to walk on.  A ride to the bus stop costs $20 pesos, and then a ride from the bus stop back home would be another $20 pesos, and people only make $150 pesos on the days that there is work, so it's not very feasible.  So, people walk down by our house, down the steep bank, and then cross the river on the bridge.

 

 



 

Some of the steeper parts have stairs etched into the rock.

 

Here is the looking back at the hill once I was at the bottom.  To get a perspective, look up near the smoke at the top of the picture.  That little speck is a man.  Behind him is our house.  All the little brown sticks are mini-cornfields, with the stalks turned down in half so the ear will dry without rotting.  They later cut the ears and pick off the kernels to save for the coming year to make all of their tortilla, tamal, and corn-masa goods which make up a huge portion of their diet.

 

 

Here is the suspension bridge. Papi calls it "Tarzan's bridge."

 

 

And here is the river below it.

 

Before I actually got there, I swore I was going to go on it and take a picture of the river from the middle. But then, I got there.  I wouldn't say I have a fear of heights, but I have no balance, and I'm not exactly a light-weight girl.  In an effort to avoid sudden death, or at least a panic attack, I backed out at the last minute.

 

While waiting for the bridge to be clear so I could get a picture, over a dozen people crossed it, most of them running (and bouncing) and none of them even holding the sides.  Nope, nope, nope.

 

Papi went up the first part but didn't go out over the water.  When he was no more than 14, he would take bags of guajes (they look like beanpods) across and up to the bus where he would take a four-hour bus ride to Tehaucan, Puebla and sell them to the ladies with the market stands, then buy fruits and vegetables, etc. and then bring them back and haul them across and back up to his house.  Alone.

 

I was later talking to one of Papi's aunts and she said that when she was young (about 6), there was only one upper cable and one lower cable, that you had to sidestep on all the way to the other side.  One day her father (Papi's grandfather) was carrying sacks on his front and back and when one started to slip, he didn't think and tried to grab it, losing his balance and falling to the rocks below.  He died later at home, probably from internal bleeding.  Papi said he didn't even know that was how he died and asked how in the world I can get so much information out of people sometimes.  Because I talk, then I listen, and ask lots of questions, and then listen, and think of more questions to ask next time so that they don't get annoyed with me today. :-)