Each weekday morning in the Bagel Hostel, where we are staying while we try to find a place to live long-term, we are awakened by an assortment of noises. As the days pass, we have attempted to locate the sources of all these noises. Here is what we have deduced:
Bang! Bang!: Below our window, there is a grate in the callejon (callejones are pedestrian only streets, of which Guanajuato is full). Over it, there is a large piece of thicker-than-sheet metal, bisected by hinges. Both halves are warped in the opposite direction of each other. Whichever side you step on, it makes a loud banging sound as the metal bends down and back. Children seem to love to stomp on it, but even the average person will make a loud bang on it. We have ongoing thoughts of how we can dispose of this metal, as well as wondering what purpose it really serves.
Schwirrrrrr, Clang-Clang-Clang-Clang-Clang, Schwirrrrrrr: This was an undertone in some ways, and I hadn't paid it much attention, always assuming just that there was some building or fixing project going on that I couldn't see. Yesterday, Peter told me that there is a machinists shop one door up from us, and that is the source of the sounds.
"Like a rolling stone!" "There is a house in New-Oleans": Every morning there is some guy playing guitar and singing the same songs over and over somewhere. I was thinking it was an occupant of a neighboring apartment practicing his guitar lessons, for which I felt charitable. However, it turns out to be a busker, who sings down the street a little ways. He seems to sing the songs phonetically. It's not horrible, but he's not a great singer, either.
Of course, we have been staying up late and waking up late, so this isn't until about 10am or so...
Thursday, November 19, 2009
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