My theory for living in Mexico is: Suspend Logic.
For instance, the corner store on Sollano where we buy tacos in the morning for 12 pesos. These days, that´s less than a dollar for 4 tacos (a taco, by the way, in Mexico, is ANYTHING stuffed into a warmed-up, folded-over tortilla). The tacos come with shredded lettuce, tomato and salsa. Quite the bargain. Quite a convenient little stop for the thrifty.
The gal who runs the little kitchen even put in a couple of tables. On any morning, you´d find cops with their walkie-talkies occassionally crackling, moms who´ve just dropped kids off at school, area workers, delivery guys who stop for a bite before resuming their routes. And THEN, about 3 weeks ago, the lights went out.
The taco gal now cooks to the light of the flame on her gas stove. The tables sit in darkness.
The store in the front still sells bread, milk and Cokes under fluorescent
lighting, so you can easily make selections and pay for your tacos in the front of the store. But step carefully once you show up at the kitchen window and be prepared to pick up your meal in the black.
The Taco Gal can´t change a light bulb?
She lost the number for the electrician?
She meditates while making tacos and prefers the dark?
It all doesn´t matter, because business has not slowed at the Gates of Hell Taco Window. The taco gal is busy as ever. People even sit at the tables, hunched closer to their plates to see where their taco is.
Not me, though. I like seeing what I eat. That´s not to say I´ve found another breakfast nook. A twelve peso plate of tacos de pollo o frijoles can´t be beat.
I take mine wrapped in tin foil, however, to go.