Intermission: over the bridge and not so far away

 Things went well at first, I parked my car, walked to the boarder and navigated my way to the port of entry for those leaving the US for Mexico. I walked up to the bridge and the fare was a mere thirty five cents in US Dollars. I paid and walked over the bridge, there was no shortage of artwork along the cement ditch beneath the bridge. Most of the artwork promoted anarchism and the plights of regular people. On the other side there were members of the Mexican military searching a womans purse, they allowed me to pass. The military personnel were followed by a boarder guard who greeted me in English, strangely enough.

 Just beyond that there were crowds of people and buildings that looked similar to those in downtown El Paso, but the smell was different. It wasn't a rancid smell, or anything necessarily foul, but there was certainly a change in the air.

 Further down the street, I was met with what could be called the main strip, some buildings were in better condition than others, but what caught my eye were the police with four-wheelers searching a man with two more officers carrying rifles in the low-ready. I walked away quickly and kept my eyes away as he began to scream something to which I wasn't listening, meanwhile older ladies were filming with their phones.

 I wandered the streets of Juarez, passing by the cathedral several times and many monuments. Eventually, I found myself in Juarezs' backstreet markets. Some of the shops were vacant, but many were lush with all sorts of fruit and clothes. Eventually I came across a barbershop that wasn't abandoned, the lady inside gave me a sweet new haircut for a hundred pesos. 

 I had an utter brainfart while she was cutting my hair, I forgot about ninety percent of the Spanish that I knew (which in itself was far from perfect.) Luckily she was very patient with my stuttering and my attempts to remember how to say anything. I felt terrible because I was in someone else's country and I couldn't speak the language. 

 After getting my hair cut and paying I wandered the streets a bit more. The vast majority of the streets were paved, some were cobblestone, some were merely dirt. The cosmetic damage to the cars varied greatly. Many were in good shape but some looked barely functional. I did get a bit turned around, but I was able to find my way back to the boarder because the mountains to the north were visible on the horizon.

 Once I arrived at the boarder cross, to the side where one leaves Mexico for the US things were a little different. I passed through a rotating door to enter customs, entered a line where a group of people and myself waited to show our documents to a customs agent. I was asked about from where I came, why I had been in Texas, and what I had done in Mexico. Customs wasn't exactly rude, but inquisitive. That being said, given that I've been doing a bit of wandering it was understandable that they had questions. I finished my questions and self-identification and moved along back to the US.