so you wanna move to guadalupe? let's talk about your future traffic-induced aneurism.

okay, real talk. you’re scrolling zillow, seeing rent in guadalupe that looks like a typo, and you’re thinking ‘ damn, i could actually buy a burrito and a bedroom here.’ hold up. before you pack your one good pan and your existential dread, we need to discuss the single most important fact of life here: the commute. it’s not a part of your day. it is your day. i interviewed my tía rosa, who’s been driving these streets since before the internet was a thing, and she didn’t hold back.

*tía rosa, age 62, drives a hatchback nicknamed ‘la cebra’ for its stripes, has seen three presidents and seven traffic law revisions

me: tía, be honest. if i get a job in san pedro, how screwed am i living in guadalupe?
tía rosa: (sips diet coke from a thermos) hija, you are not ‘screwed.’ you are volunteering for a twice-daily meditation on patience and despair. you know the carretera nacional? it’s not a road. it’s a parking lot that sometimes moves. on a good day, with the saints on your side and no truck flipped over, you’re looking at 1 hour, 15 minutes. one way. a ‘bad’ day? you arrive at your meeting having mentally drafted your resignation letter and also possibly your will. they say they’re fixing it. (she scoffs) they’ve been ‘fixing’ it since i was your age.

me: what about within guadalupe itself? is it a nightmare?
tía rosa: it depends. if you live near the centro and work by the megacentro? 20 minutes max, maybe. but if you’re doing colonia morelos to zona industrial… why? just, why would you do that to your soul? the ring road, the libramiento, is supposed to help but everyone and their abuelita is using it now, so it’s just a wider parking lot. the real secret? the traffic isn’t predictable. it’s a living, breathing, angry beast. a fender bender at 6am near the curva de la muerte? congrats, you’re now late for everything until lunch.

so there it is. the dirty data. the average commute for a guadalupe resident working outside the municipality is easily 90+ minutes round trip. that’s 7.5 hours a week. a whole extra part-time job spent staring at tailpipes. the city’s safety? look, it’s not the worst, but you don’t flash your phone at a red light. rent is why you’re here-you can find a的房间 for like 4,000 pesos if you hunt, but you’re paying in hours of your life, not pesos. the job market is basically ‘anything that doesn’t require a 2-hour drive to monterrey.’ retail, factories, call centers. it’s a town of strivers who sold their commute for a slightly bigger apartment.

overheard rumor #1 (from two guys at a taco stand): the new metro line extension to guadalupe is actually a government plot to make people move further away so they can sell more houses. ‘it’ll be done in 2028,’ they said. sure.

overheard rumor #2 (from a lady at the supermarket): don’t ever, ever try to cut through the colonia los angeles during school drop-off. it’s not a shortcut. it’s a ritual of humiliation where minivans owned by fierce moms will destroy your paint job.

about this weather, too. right now it’s that special guadalupe cocktail of heat that feels less like temperature and more like a physical weight. the humidity doesn’t just hang in the air; it watches you. it knows about your commute. it’s waiting for you in the car, turning your AC into a sad, damp sigh. the good news? you’re a short, frantic drive from the cerro de la silla if you need to remember what open space looks like, and the texas border is just a couple hours away if you suddenly crave a sense of vast, pointless emptiness that somehow feels less trapping than this traffic.

drunk advice i took seriously: ‘just leave at 6:45 instead of 7. you’ll save your sanity.’ this is a lie. there is no ‘just.’ the traffic god demands a sacrifice, and it’s always your time.

so, before you sign that lease, map your drive. do it at 7:45am on a monday. don’t trust google maps’ ‘typical traffic’-it’s lying. it’s dreaming. this place chews up dreamers. i love it here, but my love is a Stockholm syndrome kind of deal, born from too many podcasts and a deep appreciation for the 50-peso torta that makes the crawl somewhat bearable.

just… maybe pick an apartment within a 15-minute bike ride of your job. serious. your future self, stuck on the libramiento, will thank you. probably by not crying into the steering wheel.

yes, that’s the mexican flag. no, i don’t know why it’s waving in a field. maybe it’s as confused about the traffic as we are.

this is what freedom looks like. it’s not here. it’s wherever that person is.

if you’re already here and suffering, you need the guadalupe subreddit for solidarity and the best yelp taco recommendations to soften the blow. and for the love of all that’s holy, carpool. your wallet and your nerves will both thank you.

this is the map. the lines are lies. the truth is in the red, sluggish veins.*

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