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
Insights from my oddishpere