Mostly I'm Impressed Because I Really Don't Like Pumping Gas

I am safe and sound in Acapulco! In 26 hours I have:

1. dined on delicious chicken taquitas
2. secured an awesome apartment at an equally awesome rent (the owner is a school parent and wants to help me out. Yay!)
3. put in all my paperwork for a work visa
4. taken a nap in a hammock
5. experienced Super Wal-Mart the Mexican way. Not as much like the West Rome Wal-Mart as one might think.
6. acquired a head cold. Boo!

My first impressions will continue in additional posts, but while the benedryl is wearing off a bit and I have internet access, I thought I would write down a few.

First, people take a lot of pride in a job well done. At the grocery store and at Wal-Mart, kids bag the groceries. These kids (all the employees, actually) are dressed up for work. Full uniforms. Button down shirts, starched and ironed, girls in skirts, boys in slacks, both wearing ties and vests to indicate their position at the store. Impressive. And, AND . . . you don't pump your own gas here. Ever. You pull in, and an attendant pumps it for you. But that's not all. While pumping your gas, the attendant checks your oil, the air pressure in your tires, and cleans your windshield. Now, that is service. And a job well done.