I wish people would quit sucking me into things. OK, I don't. But I keep ending up in places at 4 or 5 or 6 in the morning. This past week I had four nights that ended past 4:30. And I had class at 9 or I had English lessons to give. The following stories are true. Some of the names have been changed to protect people with girlfriends/boyfriends/wives/husbands.
Mexican Car Pool
Ahhh Mexico, you are always surprising me with new adventures. You know what a California carpool is? It's when several people get in their own cars (usually solo) and follow a bunch of other cars to the same place or places. This is the Mexico version. I was sitting in my local hangout minding my own business when the bartenders told me that I should really go out with them after they closed. I told them that I wasn't sure that I felt like it. Veronica said she was going and could give me a ride which instantly changed my mind. Vero would also change your mind if she offered you a ride. We went to some club where, as usual, I was the only gringo. The Mexicans sure like to dance. And, importantly, CAN dance. After downing two bottles of Johnny Walker Red between eight people, it was time to take some people home. Vero had left so I was getting a ride from Kenny. I told Kenny I could walk but he says "no, it's raining and we will drop you off in like 20 minutes." First of all, I've learned what "20 minutes" means in Mexico. 20 minutes usually means somewhere between 30 minutes and two hours. My walk home was about 15-20 minutes but we only had to "drop a couple of people off at their cars." Right. We drive for about 15 minutes, go down some dark alley on a dirt road and drop off two people at a car. We follow them to a house and pick up one person. We take him to his car and pick up three people from the house. We drive another 15 minutes (running all of the stop lights of course) and drop off two people. We follow two cars to a house and drop off one person but add a person from one of the cars. We drive somewhere else and two people get out and get in two cars (there are three of us left in the car at this point). We then follow two cars (with girls in them - we have to make sure they get home). We follow one car to a house and wait for them to get behind the gate, since everyone lives behind a steel gate. We follow the last car home and wait for them to get behind the gate. We drive 20 minutes back to town and they drop me off almost two hours after they told me they would drop me off in "about 20 minutes", at 5:30 AM. Classic.
Strip Joint
No time in Mexico is complete until you visit a strip joint. I hadn't been to a strip joint in maybe ten years. My friends who work at the bar (the ones who took me for a ride in the Mexican carpool) told me that I had to go with them at least once. It was a pretty unremarkable place except for the extremely high security. There were guys with big guns and a chamber with double steel doors where they thoroughly search you before you enter. When we passed through the doors, my first thought was "most of these girls have no business working in a strip joint." Not a pretty sight. Of course some of the "girls" were not actually girls. The beers were expensive for here but cheap by any American standard and a bucket included an up close and personal dance with one of the fine ladies. Knowing these guys, I should have known they were setting me up. I won't go into details but I will say that I could probably go the rest of my life without being that close to a she-male and be pretty happy about it. The fun ended when a drunk and shirtless Mexican truck driver pulled out his hunting knife and cleared the room. It seems impossible to have gotten that thing in there - who knows how he got it past security. Apparently he didn't get the memo that these girls only like you when your wallet has money in it and they don't like you for your winning personality (or in his case, his man boobs).
Fight at Santo Domingo
I was walking up a street called Alcala last Friday on my way home when this very loaded guy of about 21 years old stumbles into me asks me where I was from. I tell him California and he offers me a beer which I was reluctant to take because it's illegal to drink on the street here (and there are cops all around). He insists that they don't care today because there is a calindo (a street party) going on in front of Santo Domingo church. He takes me up to Santo Domingo and introduces me to his friends (who turn out to be great people and not nearly as hammered). He keeps trying to grab my hand and saying "sigame" (follow me) but I really don't want to because I can tell the guy is trouble in his current condition and he is going to get me and himself punched. And I definitley don't want to hold his hand. So everything is "tranquilo" and everyone is having a good time when all hell breaks loose. Out of nowhere guys start throwing haymakers - fight here, fight there, dude face down in a puddle across the street. I saw the guy get knocked silly and land face-first in a puddle. I had to weave my way through a couple of fights to get to him. His friends were standing there or I would have rolled him over myself. I didn't want to get kicked in the face for grabbing him. So I tell his loaded friends that they need to pull him out of the puddle. One of them tells me he's fine and I explain that he is going to drown. Luckily the women had some sense (as usual here) and understood the guy was going to die and they helped me roll him over. Meanwhile, the cops are telling people to carry their passed out and/or knocked out and bleeding friends out of the area or they will do it for them. I return to the group I was talking to and everything seems to be settling down. We're all talking and the original guy that had drunkenly approached me offers this very mellow (to this point) guy, Felipe, a cigarette. Felipe tells him that he doesn't smoke and the guy throws the cigarrete at him and slaps him while he's sitting down. They go at it a little bit and I tell the drunken fool he is going to get his ass kicked if he doesn't walk away. Dumb ass doesn't listen to me and before you know it, Felipe is on top of him beating the living shit out of him. Two cops roll up as this is taking place and they pull Felipe off and put the cuffs on him. Six more cops show up and Felipe's friends are trying to talk them out of taking him to jail but they aren't listening. I pull one of the cops aside and explain what I saw - namely that Felipe was sitting on the ground minding his own business and got cold cocked. They only saw the end of it. He grabs the cop in charge who also listens to my story. It appears the gringo has some pull and they soon release Felipe. Of course he invites me to his house where his mother feeds me and his father won't let me sit with an empty beer for more than ten seconds. Felipe won't stop calling me "the coolest gringo he has ever met."
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
The kid in the Tree and the Children of Paradiso
The Kid in the Tree
I don't know how I forgot about the kid in the tree. I only spent three hours taking direction from him. And he was 8. I was walking down the dirt road through the village in Paradiso when this kid walks up to me and pokes me with a long stick. He had a huge smile on his face that said he was up to something. He started signaling me to follow him so like a nice gringo, I did. He told me where to stand and then he made a falling and catching kind of motion to indicate what was going to happen and what he wanted me to do. He climbed the tree in his bare feet and when he got to the very top of this big tree he starting knocking some kind of fruit out the tree (the falling part) and I started catching them (the catching part). This went on for the better part of an hour. Every time I would catch one he would howl with laughter. Every time I would miss one (and especially when one would bounce off my head or splat on my shirt) he would laugh even harder. When he finished, he descended the tree in monkey-like fashion and showed me how to eat the fruit. I don't know what it was but it tasted like an apricot. I saw him throw one of the bad ones down the road and realized the kid had a cannon for an arm. I asked him if he liked baseball and he said that he did. I asked him if he had heard of NAMBLA and luckily he hadn't (Google it. No, I am NOT a member). I found some pits from the fruit and started pitching to him. I explained to him the concept of over the line (it's a SoCal thing - you NoCals won't get it). We made a single, double, triple, and homerun line and I kept score for him. We bounced back and forth between rotten fruit wars and the game of over the line until it was getting dark and his mom called for him. She mouthed a "Gracias" to me and he pulled the old rotten-piece-of-fruit-in-the-hand high five trick as he ran buy. I had to act surprised by the rotten piece of fruit I saw him put in his hand. I Wish I could buy the kid a baseball glove.
The Children of Paradiso
These people truly do live in paradise - warm water, beautiful beaches, fresh fish, close families and friends, and the most perfect wave I have ever surfed. From the time they are born until about 18 or 19, they live what I would say is the ideal lifestyle. It's is almost exactly how I would want my children to be raised. They are active, constantly outside, eating good food, living in a beautiful place with the afore-mentioned friends and family, everyone knows everyone else's name in town, people watch each other's kids, they bring each other food when someone doesn't have any or runs out, and the kids respect authority and the adults in general (and don't mistrust them). And then there's that wave. That perfect right point wave that has forever changed the place - for better and for worse. For better because everyone's standard of living has gone up and for worse because of some of things that the kids are getting exposed to (and general cultural dilution) and the environmental impact. But the crazy dichotomy of a place like this is the perfect life the kids have until about the age of 18 and then the rough road ahead for many of them when they need to work. I mean everyone over the age of about 10 works in some capacity but all the men get their 16 and 17 year old girlfriends pregnant when they themselves are 18 or 19 and the prospects for work are pretty grim. They either have to leave or travel a long way for work. Or somehow try to make a living in town which is tough. There is middle ground somewhere between the lives we lead in the US where we have so many opportunities and access to information but where we constantly buy more and more crap, work too much, and don't know our neighbors and the life these people live where life is fantastic in so many ways (very pure) but everyone drops out of high school and has poor access to things like health care. I personally like both places and what they have to offer but I am lucky because I can live in both worlds if I choose to.
I don't know how I forgot about the kid in the tree. I only spent three hours taking direction from him. And he was 8. I was walking down the dirt road through the village in Paradiso when this kid walks up to me and pokes me with a long stick. He had a huge smile on his face that said he was up to something. He started signaling me to follow him so like a nice gringo, I did. He told me where to stand and then he made a falling and catching kind of motion to indicate what was going to happen and what he wanted me to do. He climbed the tree in his bare feet and when he got to the very top of this big tree he starting knocking some kind of fruit out the tree (the falling part) and I started catching them (the catching part). This went on for the better part of an hour. Every time I would catch one he would howl with laughter. Every time I would miss one (and especially when one would bounce off my head or splat on my shirt) he would laugh even harder. When he finished, he descended the tree in monkey-like fashion and showed me how to eat the fruit. I don't know what it was but it tasted like an apricot. I saw him throw one of the bad ones down the road and realized the kid had a cannon for an arm. I asked him if he liked baseball and he said that he did. I asked him if he had heard of NAMBLA and luckily he hadn't (Google it. No, I am NOT a member). I found some pits from the fruit and started pitching to him. I explained to him the concept of over the line (it's a SoCal thing - you NoCals won't get it). We made a single, double, triple, and homerun line and I kept score for him. We bounced back and forth between rotten fruit wars and the game of over the line until it was getting dark and his mom called for him. She mouthed a "Gracias" to me and he pulled the old rotten-piece-of-fruit-in-the-hand high five trick as he ran buy. I had to act surprised by the rotten piece of fruit I saw him put in his hand. I Wish I could buy the kid a baseball glove.
The Children of Paradiso
These people truly do live in paradise - warm water, beautiful beaches, fresh fish, close families and friends, and the most perfect wave I have ever surfed. From the time they are born until about 18 or 19, they live what I would say is the ideal lifestyle. It's is almost exactly how I would want my children to be raised. They are active, constantly outside, eating good food, living in a beautiful place with the afore-mentioned friends and family, everyone knows everyone else's name in town, people watch each other's kids, they bring each other food when someone doesn't have any or runs out, and the kids respect authority and the adults in general (and don't mistrust them). And then there's that wave. That perfect right point wave that has forever changed the place - for better and for worse. For better because everyone's standard of living has gone up and for worse because of some of things that the kids are getting exposed to (and general cultural dilution) and the environmental impact. But the crazy dichotomy of a place like this is the perfect life the kids have until about the age of 18 and then the rough road ahead for many of them when they need to work. I mean everyone over the age of about 10 works in some capacity but all the men get their 16 and 17 year old girlfriends pregnant when they themselves are 18 or 19 and the prospects for work are pretty grim. They either have to leave or travel a long way for work. Or somehow try to make a living in town which is tough. There is middle ground somewhere between the lives we lead in the US where we have so many opportunities and access to information but where we constantly buy more and more crap, work too much, and don't know our neighbors and the life these people live where life is fantastic in so many ways (very pure) but everyone drops out of high school and has poor access to things like health care. I personally like both places and what they have to offer but I am lucky because I can live in both worlds if I choose to.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Puerto y Coco
Puerto
Puerto was deserted. More people I feel horrible for. The people who live there told me that 2009 is a total loss. I heard the same thing here in Oxaca. My Aussie friend and I were the only people in the two restaurants where we had dinner last weekend. It's a total disaster. This flu really screwed them. The economy and the flu delivered a 1-2 punch that is going to take years to recover from. Puerto was not as hideous as I thought it would be though.
I saw five of the worst wipeouts I've ever seen at Zicatela which is the famous wave in Puerto. That wave is HEAVY. None for me, thanks. It's like Ocean Beach in San Francisco but hollow. Frightening.
Coco
Coco was my waitress at the hotel in Puerto. Another one of those incredible people that I have run across. My traveling partner was not feeling well our first day there so I went to the deserted restaurant/bar for a beer at about 5:00 because it had a great view of the guys getting macked by the wave. She sat down and we talked for the next three hours. We just talked about life, the world, the economy, environmental problems, the ocean, our families and friends, and about what a positive change for everyone our new president is. It's amazing how little respect or admiration virtually everyone in the world had for Bush. Anyway, Coco was an incredibly warm and extremely funny and insightful human being. She told me that I absolutely had to have kids or she would never forgive me. Funny. I need to go get fixed - quickly. And no, she wasn't trying to get into my pants. But it was unexpected to meet someone who's working in a restaurant in deep Mexico with such a firm grasp of news, current events, sports, food, business, politics, religion, and especially the environment. But I'm surprised by something every day. It's nice to have my brain engaged. I've almost forgotten what a cubicle looks like. I never want to see one again.
The next day I went back to the restaurant and we talked for another three hours but this was almost entirely theoretical/philosophical stuff. Smart woman. You can tell that if she would have had the opportunity to go to college she would have thrived. I again realize how lucky I am - I am lucky to have been given the opportunity at an education and lucky to have met Coco.
Puerto was deserted. More people I feel horrible for. The people who live there told me that 2009 is a total loss. I heard the same thing here in Oxaca. My Aussie friend and I were the only people in the two restaurants where we had dinner last weekend. It's a total disaster. This flu really screwed them. The economy and the flu delivered a 1-2 punch that is going to take years to recover from. Puerto was not as hideous as I thought it would be though.
I saw five of the worst wipeouts I've ever seen at Zicatela which is the famous wave in Puerto. That wave is HEAVY. None for me, thanks. It's like Ocean Beach in San Francisco but hollow. Frightening.
Coco
Coco was my waitress at the hotel in Puerto. Another one of those incredible people that I have run across. My traveling partner was not feeling well our first day there so I went to the deserted restaurant/bar for a beer at about 5:00 because it had a great view of the guys getting macked by the wave. She sat down and we talked for the next three hours. We just talked about life, the world, the economy, environmental problems, the ocean, our families and friends, and about what a positive change for everyone our new president is. It's amazing how little respect or admiration virtually everyone in the world had for Bush. Anyway, Coco was an incredibly warm and extremely funny and insightful human being. She told me that I absolutely had to have kids or she would never forgive me. Funny. I need to go get fixed - quickly. And no, she wasn't trying to get into my pants. But it was unexpected to meet someone who's working in a restaurant in deep Mexico with such a firm grasp of news, current events, sports, food, business, politics, religion, and especially the environment. But I'm surprised by something every day. It's nice to have my brain engaged. I've almost forgotten what a cubicle looks like. I never want to see one again.
The next day I went back to the restaurant and we talked for another three hours but this was almost entirely theoretical/philosophical stuff. Smart woman. You can tell that if she would have had the opportunity to go to college she would have thrived. I again realize how lucky I am - I am lucky to have been given the opportunity at an education and lucky to have met Coco.
Back in Oaxaca, Despues de Puerto
Back in Oaxaca after a couple days in Puerto Escondido. And back out with Carlos and Oscar again last night. And Carlos' cousin whose name I can't remember but the dude is super chido (cool). He wants to snowboard so badly but he can't afford it - he's a skateboarder. I was telling him how easy it is to learn, especially for a skateboarder. He didn't get that surfing was by far the hardest thing a person could ever learn to do and that snowboarding could be learned in two days and you could be good in one season. He thought the opposite was true. I wish I could help him get on a mountain. Oaxaca is a hard place to do anything outdoors. There's one park where you could kind of ride a skateboard, a kind of a mountain-like thing where you can hike or mountain bike (but it's fairly hideous), no golf course (at least that's what Carlos' cousin told me last night), one tennis court (that's an exaggeration), and not a lot of sports facilities in general. It's not a place I would live permanently but it's definitely got it's own cool energy....and really beautiful women. I just need to be outside more. I say that but my entire life here is outside but it's different. Everyone lives outside here. You eat outside, school is outside, bars and restaurants are all open to the street which is cool. And people aren't fat because they walk everywhere. But they don't do a lot of "formal" exercise or seem to play a lot of sports.
Going to San Cristobal in a few weeks to meet up with Anoushka who I met in Barra. She's been traveling for about two and a half years and lives on an organic farm in the mountains near San Cristobal. Cool chick. Surfer, trippy/hippie from the UK. We had a good night of talking and drinking beers on the beach in Barra. She said the music scene in San Cristobal is huge and that I have to go there just for that if nothing else. She's going to show me around and introduce me to some of the freaks who live up in the mountains with her on the farm. Not sure what they farm but does it really matter? I just know that it's something "organic" and that's good enough for me.
More on Puerto and my new friend Coco in a bit.
Going to San Cristobal in a few weeks to meet up with Anoushka who I met in Barra. She's been traveling for about two and a half years and lives on an organic farm in the mountains near San Cristobal. Cool chick. Surfer, trippy/hippie from the UK. We had a good night of talking and drinking beers on the beach in Barra. She said the music scene in San Cristobal is huge and that I have to go there just for that if nothing else. She's going to show me around and introduce me to some of the freaks who live up in the mountains with her on the farm. Not sure what they farm but does it really matter? I just know that it's something "organic" and that's good enough for me.
More on Puerto and my new friend Coco in a bit.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Paradise
"Should we go or should we not go? The Internet said the town was closed so I don't know. And I don't know how long the drive into town is." Town was supposedly closed but things had mellowed so much here in Mexico with respect to the flu and the fact that it was completely blown out of proportion by basically the entire planet that there was a chance the town would be open. So we decided to ask the three old ladies at the bus stop - "Esta abierto el pueblo?...Si, el pueblo esta abierto y pueden manejar por aca...Pues, podemos surfear?...No, no pueden surfiar porque la playa esta cerrado." But we decided that even though the beach was supposedly closed to visitors we would go anyway. We almost drove past the turn off and back to Puerto Escondido but thought we would check it out. Everybody had been kicked out of the town (all the tourists/surfers/vistors) so we weren't sure if someone was going to stop us and tell us to leave or what. We drove into town until we hit a locked gate (the road to the beach) and asked in the little store if the beach was closed. They said that it was but that we could walk (I guess our car might be contaminated). We got down to the beach and the waves were perfect. Only the locals were out and I had no board. But the day was beautiful and the water was warm. We met a fisherman named Leo and I talked to him as I helped him pull in his nets. He rented rooms and his wife cooked and he offered us a place to stay. We bought fresh tuna from another passing fisherman (Leo mostly catches sardines) and walked back to his house with him. He cut up the sardines and and he made ceviche with them....wow, unreal. A couple hours later his wife cooked up the tuna and served it with tomatoes, onions, frijoles, and homemade tortillas. I washed it down with seven or eight Coronas and knew we had come to the right place.
Before I got to the place, my brother told me to ask for a kid named Chocho because my brother had left a surfboard with him five years ago because the kid wanted to learn to surf. All the boards in town are donated by visiting surfers because none of the local kids can afford them. Anyway, I couldn't find Chocho but Leo had a couple of boards that he rented. If you know Mexico, you will appreciate this next part. I woke up the next day and was waiting for this guy Joel who was an American who lived there. He showed up and I grabbed the board I wanted to use. It only had two fins so we had to find a third. We walked around the village looking for a fin - one guy had a left fin but not a right, one guy had a right fin but it was the wrong fin system. Finally we found the correct fin but we didn't have screws. We found screws but we didn't have a fin tool. We found a fin tool but the screws were stripped. We were so close. Where could we get screws? I saw the light go on in Joel's head - the sign for the restaurant was a painted surfboard. It used to be his and it had FCS fins and he thought they left the screws in. We pulled down the sign and sure enough, there were the screws. We put the fin on my board, they opened the road to the beach at 10 and we drove down to the point. There were about eight guys in the water when we got there. We paddled out and I was having trouble figuring out where to take off because it's next to a big rock. I paddled around for about an hour and then everyone left. Just me and a perfect, head high point break. I surfed it alone for the next three hours until my arms were about to fall off. I caught what turned out to be my last wave and lost the fin we had replaced. I was done anyway. I saw some kid catch a nice yellowtail from the rocks and I bought it from him from the water. I had found Chocho - he's the best surfer in town now.
The next two days were solid double overhead. Too big for a lot of people, especially with the current. Including (or especially) me. I didn't have a board anyway. But I had just had the best day of surfing in years. I was happy to watch people get barrelled for two days and bodysurf the inside section, eat fresh fish, and throw coconuts for Shakira the Wonder Dog.
So it was off to Puerto.
Before I got to the place, my brother told me to ask for a kid named Chocho because my brother had left a surfboard with him five years ago because the kid wanted to learn to surf. All the boards in town are donated by visiting surfers because none of the local kids can afford them. Anyway, I couldn't find Chocho but Leo had a couple of boards that he rented. If you know Mexico, you will appreciate this next part. I woke up the next day and was waiting for this guy Joel who was an American who lived there. He showed up and I grabbed the board I wanted to use. It only had two fins so we had to find a third. We walked around the village looking for a fin - one guy had a left fin but not a right, one guy had a right fin but it was the wrong fin system. Finally we found the correct fin but we didn't have screws. We found screws but we didn't have a fin tool. We found a fin tool but the screws were stripped. We were so close. Where could we get screws? I saw the light go on in Joel's head - the sign for the restaurant was a painted surfboard. It used to be his and it had FCS fins and he thought they left the screws in. We pulled down the sign and sure enough, there were the screws. We put the fin on my board, they opened the road to the beach at 10 and we drove down to the point. There were about eight guys in the water when we got there. We paddled out and I was having trouble figuring out where to take off because it's next to a big rock. I paddled around for about an hour and then everyone left. Just me and a perfect, head high point break. I surfed it alone for the next three hours until my arms were about to fall off. I caught what turned out to be my last wave and lost the fin we had replaced. I was done anyway. I saw some kid catch a nice yellowtail from the rocks and I bought it from him from the water. I had found Chocho - he's the best surfer in town now.
The next two days were solid double overhead. Too big for a lot of people, especially with the current. Including (or especially) me. I didn't have a board anyway. But I had just had the best day of surfing in years. I was happy to watch people get barrelled for two days and bodysurf the inside section, eat fresh fish, and throw coconuts for Shakira the Wonder Dog.
So it was off to Puerto.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Road block? What road block?
I'm a little behind in posting but this story needs to be told.
I was out with my friend Carlos (from the band) last week and we were all hanging out after their gig and were going to someone else's house. We're driving down a side street and Carlos is smoking a joint. Up ahead there were two cops on quads making some kind of road block. Carlos starts to slow down and then punches it (I thought he was kidding). He flys past the cops and they fire up the quads and start chasing us down the cobblestone streets. Carlos zigs and zags and makes a few turns and then slams the breaks on. He says "get out and go knock on that door." I said "what." He says "get the fuck out of the car and go knock on that fucking door." So I run up the stairs to this kind of sketchy looking house and knock on the door. Xochitl (the guitar player's girlfriend) opens the door and I tell her to shut it. I told her what happened and we could hear the cops on quads outside. She explains to me that the cops know Carlos and that he always has drugs on him so he didn't want me to have any problems. Anyway, he shows up twenty minutes later, sweating, with a case of beer. He and Oscar (guitar player) break out the acoustic guitars and play flamenco and all kinds of other stuff until 5 AM. Also, it turns out the house is SWEET behind the door and has a rooftop deck. Had to get up three hours later and do homework before school at 9. Asked myself if that had really happened. It had.
I was out with my friend Carlos (from the band) last week and we were all hanging out after their gig and were going to someone else's house. We're driving down a side street and Carlos is smoking a joint. Up ahead there were two cops on quads making some kind of road block. Carlos starts to slow down and then punches it (I thought he was kidding). He flys past the cops and they fire up the quads and start chasing us down the cobblestone streets. Carlos zigs and zags and makes a few turns and then slams the breaks on. He says "get out and go knock on that door." I said "what." He says "get the fuck out of the car and go knock on that fucking door." So I run up the stairs to this kind of sketchy looking house and knock on the door. Xochitl (the guitar player's girlfriend) opens the door and I tell her to shut it. I told her what happened and we could hear the cops on quads outside. She explains to me that the cops know Carlos and that he always has drugs on him so he didn't want me to have any problems. Anyway, he shows up twenty minutes later, sweating, with a case of beer. He and Oscar (guitar player) break out the acoustic guitars and play flamenco and all kinds of other stuff until 5 AM. Also, it turns out the house is SWEET behind the door and has a rooftop deck. Had to get up three hours later and do homework before school at 9. Asked myself if that had really happened. It had.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Fu**show in Mexico
So the govt just closed down basically the entire country. Bars, restaurants, all closed. How about this instead: get fucking Tamiflu out to everyone instead of making people starve because they can't work. I was just down at my local hangout talking to the owner and all the bartenders - they can't work for five days. These guys don't have a bunch of money in the bank. This is going to screw people like them for a long time. I didn't really know anyone who had been affected too badly by the recession (a few layoffs but they would survive). Now I am seeing people who I consider friends, people who I will come back and visit getting totally hosed by their government and this situation. I'm pretty sad right now after my walk through town. I don't know how they're going to make it. I mean, the Mexicans are as good as any people in the world at taking things in stride and putting a good face on things but I know they're all pretty anxious. Shitty. Back in 2006 Oaxaca had the big teachers strike and then the APO came in and occupied the TV and radio stations while the teachers occupied the Zocalo. The army flew over parts of town tossing tear gas out of helicopters, shot a few people, and took a few others away who have never been heard from since. No tourists came here in 2007 (and the economy is 80% tourism). In 2008 the tourists came back and 2009 was going pretty well in spite of the world economy. Now 2009 is a total loss.
Viva Mexico.
Of course every Mexican law has a big gigantic loophole. If you have outdoor seating or a rooftop terrace, you can stay open as a bar or restaurant. And that's whether anyone is using the outdoor seating or not. Everyone can be sitting INSIDE but if you HAVE outdoor seating, you can stay open. Sounds like the same guy who organized the Mexican Bomb Squad came up with this regulation. Over 100 million people in the country, 473 cases of the flu (mostly in La Ciudad), and you close the entire country down. Idi-fucking-otic.
Viva Mexico.
Of course every Mexican law has a big gigantic loophole. If you have outdoor seating or a rooftop terrace, you can stay open as a bar or restaurant. And that's whether anyone is using the outdoor seating or not. Everyone can be sitting INSIDE but if you HAVE outdoor seating, you can stay open. Sounds like the same guy who organized the Mexican Bomb Squad came up with this regulation. Over 100 million people in the country, 473 cases of the flu (mostly in La Ciudad), and you close the entire country down. Idi-fucking-otic.
Leaving for the coast tomorrow
If anyone needs me, I will be in Puerto Angel for the next week. I think I'm coming back to Oaxaca for some more school and to finish some "business." It's a good base for me simply because I know so many people and feel relatively safe even though it's pretty much the poorest place in the country. And getting poorer every day. Lots of beggars. These people are going to be hurting for a long time.
I really need to stop staying out until 4 AM but people don't get started until late here. I was invited to a party last night that started at 11. I had seven margaritas and seven beers (I wasn't counting but my friend was because he had told his friends that I would outdrink all of them and not be drunk, which was true). And I wasn't drunk but everyone else was - I am immune to alcohol in Mexico. Hopefully that means I am also immune to H1N1. I'm pretty sure that I brought it to Mexico and it wasn't that kid in Veracruz. I started this whole mess.
I really need to stop staying out until 4 AM but people don't get started until late here. I was invited to a party last night that started at 11. I had seven margaritas and seven beers (I wasn't counting but my friend was because he had told his friends that I would outdrink all of them and not be drunk, which was true). And I wasn't drunk but everyone else was - I am immune to alcohol in Mexico. Hopefully that means I am also immune to H1N1. I'm pretty sure that I brought it to Mexico and it wasn't that kid in Veracruz. I started this whole mess.
Well, I WAS going to go to Barra de la Cruz
On Surfline today:
From Pablo Narvaez, Barra de la Cruz, Mexico: In all Mexico we have an emergency as you probably know. Tonight we have a meeting and it has been decided that the Barra will be closed for one week and maybe two, depending on how things go with this flu. All people who aren't permanent residents in the village will need to vacate tomorrow. Just thought I would let you know in case you were planning to come down. It will be hard for us tomorrow to tell the surfers they have to leave but we need to protect the local community. If you can let people know so they don't turn up and be disappointed. Maybe an email out or on the web page -- up to you.--best, Pablo.
¡MIERDA!
From Pablo Narvaez, Barra de la Cruz, Mexico: In all Mexico we have an emergency as you probably know. Tonight we have a meeting and it has been decided that the Barra will be closed for one week and maybe two, depending on how things go with this flu. All people who aren't permanent residents in the village will need to vacate tomorrow. Just thought I would let you know in case you were planning to come down. It will be hard for us tomorrow to tell the surfers they have to leave but we need to protect the local community. If you can let people know so they don't turn up and be disappointed. Maybe an email out or on the web page -- up to you.--best, Pablo.
¡MIERDA!
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