As I write this I am sitting on the beach in my tent in Michoacan MX. an amazing coastline full of tiny indigenous pueblos that are beginning to change ala the California of my youth (gone baby gone).
In Ticla the indian girl of maybe 15 years old sits behind the counter of the abbarotes (convenience store) I am buying Cacahuates (peanuts) Mangos, Bananas, Coffee, and Condensed Milk, I ask a simple question but she doesnt seem to hear me, inside my head I check Mi Palabras (words), and I check my pronunciation, feeling fairly sure I am speaking correctly I try again,this time louder, she looks in my eyes, reaches for her ear and pulls out her I-Pod headset and answers me in the affirmative proving once again that things are not exactly as they seem down here.
She sits behind a well stocked glass case filled with stickers and sex wax, the selection is a stoners paradise candy, ice cream, and red bull I see the well stocked store and think its a shame that here in Mexico the things that we import are just that things, consumables, belongings, stuff, when we could offer so much more. Still its a simple sweet life on this coast, hiding from the sun and swimming in the sea, wonderful old women bringing handmade delights to you by your hammock.
Walking through the pueblo at night, this is something I love, no street lights, people sitting on the stoop, Buenas Noches from everyone you pass, this is my speed, a slow stroll through the town square, sitting near a bench, this is what I want as my nightly social scene, no trip to the bar is necessary its simple social interaction, catch up with your neighbors on the events of the day, flirting with the woman who sells the tuba (not found in the brass section of an orchestra, this one is juice from the coconut tree served with peanuts) this is how communities flourish, this is an authentic life!
Heading back toward la playa, the stars brighten as I near the dark coastline, only the sounds of a quiet night fill my ears, the gentle sound of sand under my tires, nightbirds. My reverie is shattered as I hear the unmistakable sound of gunshots ring out (that sounds like an automatic weapon!), then screaming and more shots being fired, there is an eery glow as the darkness slowly gives way to strange blue hues, and then I see the horrible scene of destruction, there are maybe 6 people down, all local indigenous, they are sprawled on the ground or lying across hammocks and chairs, faces that smiled at me an hour ago are now devoid of life, their smiling eyes are just dead sockets. I cant take my eyes off the horrible scene that is unfolding before me. I move forward in slow motion into the blue light and I see the perpetrator, he is not going to run and hide, I am afraid this one is here to stay. The man with the gun is Al Pacino, he is on a color TV screen and he is talking tough “first you get the drugs, then you get the money, then you get the women”, Scarface is in the house. I am repulsed, all of our riches and “advanced” technology that what we export is TV complete with its false values and mind numbing advertisements, whats for sale on tonights program? (greed?, violence?, power?, sex?) on the other hand, Michele Pfeiffer is looking pretty hot in that white bathing suit, and its early, I wonder where they sell that Microwave Popcorn...
In Ticla the indian girl of maybe 15 years old sits behind the counter of the abbarotes (convenience store) I am buying Cacahuates (peanuts) Mangos, Bananas, Coffee, and Condensed Milk, I ask a simple question but she doesnt seem to hear me, inside my head I check Mi Palabras (words), and I check my pronunciation, feeling fairly sure I am speaking correctly I try again,this time louder, she looks in my eyes, reaches for her ear and pulls out her I-Pod headset and answers me in the affirmative proving once again that things are not exactly as they seem down here.
She sits behind a well stocked glass case filled with stickers and sex wax, the selection is a stoners paradise candy, ice cream, and red bull I see the well stocked store and think its a shame that here in Mexico the things that we import are just that things, consumables, belongings, stuff, when we could offer so much more. Still its a simple sweet life on this coast, hiding from the sun and swimming in the sea, wonderful old women bringing handmade delights to you by your hammock.
Walking through the pueblo at night, this is something I love, no street lights, people sitting on the stoop, Buenas Noches from everyone you pass, this is my speed, a slow stroll through the town square, sitting near a bench, this is what I want as my nightly social scene, no trip to the bar is necessary its simple social interaction, catch up with your neighbors on the events of the day, flirting with the woman who sells the tuba (not found in the brass section of an orchestra, this one is juice from the coconut tree served with peanuts) this is how communities flourish, this is an authentic life!
Heading back toward la playa, the stars brighten as I near the dark coastline, only the sounds of a quiet night fill my ears, the gentle sound of sand under my tires, nightbirds. My reverie is shattered as I hear the unmistakable sound of gunshots ring out (that sounds like an automatic weapon!), then screaming and more shots being fired, there is an eery glow as the darkness slowly gives way to strange blue hues, and then I see the horrible scene of destruction, there are maybe 6 people down, all local indigenous, they are sprawled on the ground or lying across hammocks and chairs, faces that smiled at me an hour ago are now devoid of life, their smiling eyes are just dead sockets. I cant take my eyes off the horrible scene that is unfolding before me. I move forward in slow motion into the blue light and I see the perpetrator, he is not going to run and hide, I am afraid this one is here to stay. The man with the gun is Al Pacino, he is on a color TV screen and he is talking tough “first you get the drugs, then you get the money, then you get the women”, Scarface is in the house. I am repulsed, all of our riches and “advanced” technology that what we export is TV complete with its false values and mind numbing advertisements, whats for sale on tonights program? (greed?, violence?, power?, sex?) on the other hand, Michele Pfeiffer is looking pretty hot in that white bathing suit, and its early, I wonder where they sell that Microwave Popcorn...
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