Jesus saved me.
Jesus even snuck me out of Mexico.
Have you ever woken up on the side of a Mexican highway wondering what you’re doing with your life? Then after walking for a few minutes you find a bag of tostadas? They look only a few days old. They’ll do.
Let me set the scene.
I had decided I was going to spend a night by the ancient Mesoamerican city of Teotihuacan so I could explore it in the morning. I ended up there early in the afternoon and decided I couldn’t wait until morning. Once I had finished exploring and climbing pyramids the sun was low and I thought I might as well start heading North. I Ate about 10 red bananas that I purchased from a small tienda and began to walk. A lot.

Eventually, after getting chased across the highway by a pack of dogs, I caught a ride in a truck. It was already past 9pm and I didn’t get too far because he was turning off in the wrong direction. I gave up and decided to sleep until morning.
I put down my tent without the poles by the highway and went to sleep. It was a pretty rough night but i was exhausted and needed the sleep. In the morning I woke up, packed my things and started walking and trying to catch a ride. I ate the toasted tortillas I found by the road and I saved a snake from being run over.. Then walked another 10km.

The sun was getting to me and I was getting desperate for a ride. I found an on-ramp that I could use to my advantage, to put my thumb up at people before they were already flying along at 120km/h.
After about 20 minutes a sparkling white chariot(...Or semi-trailer truck) pulled up. I climbed in and asked the driver his name.
Yep. Jesus himself. In person.
Jesus got me to the next petrol station about 40 minutes down the road and I easily caught another ride from there. After my next ride ended I started walking again and just as it started to spit a semi-trailer truck pulled up.
The driver told me that he was heading all the way to the Texan border city of Nuevo Laredo.
We head banged and rocked out to Spanish covers of popular rock songs through the night and I put on some Australian hardcore, Parkway Drive, that he explained on the phone to his wife as Metallica. I even accidentally fell asleep for a few hours and woke up a little before the end of the 15 hour journey, at 9am.
Just before he dropped me off he started explaining to me in a mix of Spanish and broken english about all of the people that have had their heads cut off in this area and how rival cartels are fighting for the city. He told me not to make eye contact with anyone and not to hitch a ride in anything but another semi truck. He then drew some crucifixes in the air with his hand and told me to pray and send a message to my mum.
I hopped out of his truck and put my thumb out. Only moments later another truck stopped. The driver’s name? Jesus of course.
He gave me a big drink and offered me some food and we started driving away from town. I did start to get a little anxious inside but the man seemed too genuine and i decided to wait it out and see where we ended up.
As we drove over a bridge the driver laughed and pointed down and told me we had left Mexico. I was OK with this because I hadn’t even paid my exit tax or had to waste passport space with a stamp.
We pulled up behind some other trucks and hopped out for US customs/immigration.
I was the only non-Mexican in the queue, at least a foot taller than everyone else and when I got to the front of the line the homeland security guy said “Uhhh.. This is a commercial border.. For truck drivers.. The public crossing is 20 miles away.”
He got on the phone to see what he could do and 20 minutes later i was being violated and getting a full body search done and having my bags emptied. They then put me in a vehicle and drove me to another building, where I was interviewed and eventually granted a 3 months visa waiver (the homeland security guy had to look up my friends I was heading to in his system to get their address).
I was then put in another vehicle and driven to a random little fate in a chain-link fence that they opened up and I walked into Laredo, Texas. It felt good to be on the American side of the border, I assumed it was a lot safer.
All the vehicles I tried to flag down ignored me as I headed on foot for the freeway to San Antonio and noticed the train line. I started day dreaming about hopping on a freight train and then I noticed I could hear an odd sound. There was a train coming.
I crossed through the bushes and in behind me came another guy, dressed quite like me. His name was Willy.
Willy asked me “You about to hop this freight right here?”
“Here you gonna need some gloves”.
We jogged and climbed up onto the rolling freight train and stayed on until it began turning off in a different direction. From there we found a truck stop, shared a meal and hitched separate rides in trucks the rest of the way to San Antonio, where I arrived by evening and contacted my friends from NZ.
I must add-
Willy was an amazing man with an incredible(and sad) life story. He was 28 years old and had been homeless and riding the trains since he was 12 years old, after he lost his family. He had never owned a phone and provided some entertainment by singing Johnny Cash. He gave me a crash course on riding freight trains safely and plenty of tips and tricks.
Thank-you Jesuses and thank-you Willy.