An article in Mexico Connect. By Carron Harlan 2000 All Rights Reserved. Her Bio W e sit crushed together, moist and miserable, in the back of the battered old VW van as we do every day about this time.
Interesting odors assail our noses.
We would rather not know what it is we are smelling. Eleven of us wait to go home, engaged in full body contact with people we know only by sight. But the colectivo will not leave Tuxtla Gutierrez until it has at least fourteen paid fares. And that means three more people in a seven-passenger vehicle. Most of the passengers are women of a certain age .