Noise

Sahuayo is a small town (pueblo) of 60,000 people. Nonetheless, sometimes the noise rivals a big city.

My room is three floors above the street. Unfortunately my window doesn't close all the way. There is a small crack between two of the panes. This means I hear everything. As I'm writing this on Saturday afternoon, it's not that bad. I hear the occasional car. During the week, I hear much more. Vendors drive cars with megaphones attached to the top. I hear the same ads day after day. Mopeds, ATVs, buses vans, pick up trucks, and cars produce a cacaphony of noise. I can hear the music in everyone's vehicles. Mexicans love to turn up the bass. Young adults who go out at night yell and laugh. If I knew more Mexican slang, I'd know what they were saying.

If the vendors aren't driving, then the taxi drivers are constantly looking for their next passenger. "Tax-EE!" they yell.

Earlier this week huge blasts woke me up at 6:15. When I woke up at my usual time two hours later, the power was out. I thought that a transformer had blown. Apparently, they were fireworks. Two nights later, I heard the same blasts. Ricardo, my director, told me Mexicans launch fireworks all year. As you all know, I love fireworks, but they have their place. I like them on Independence Day. I don't like them at 6:15 in the morning during the week.

At school, the noise is particularly annoying when I'm trying to teach pronunciation. The windows in my room are wooden doors. I hear everyone's music. When it's loud enough, it sets off car alarms. Kids down the street launch fireworks, for no particular reason.

The only sound I like is the bell that rings every hour on top of the La Parroquia, the church in the center of the city. It's calming and reassuring.

Kevin