WE ARE ALONE

Politicians and legislators forgot about their people. Specially in countries, in where, as mine the election system is party-based and not MP-based. Closed lists instead of a candidate running on a certain constituency worsens the problem.
Fascists banned drinking in public parks. Communists banned smoking on covered spaces even forbiding doing it on smokers designated areas. Nationalist, after tearing down blocks and blocks of apartments buildings, accusing each other of corruption and wrongdoing on the Parliament shamelessly and openly with no prosecution or legal action being taken, put apart their government duties and get lost on the useless ways of a devolution reform few people I got to talk really care about. And now... a tiny nationwide constitutional reform that barely addresses the bottonm line we all think of...
I cannot wait to listen to HRH at 5am CET 11p EST...
Thanks to those pikeys who yesterday stormed on those flats... they'll finally bring out some stuff to talk about...

CUBA, SPAIN. ANTIAMERICANISM.

¿No se le cae la cara de vergüenza al suelo a un gobierno?... al español, al que un país, EUA, le manda un embajador que les dice, que les viene a decir, desde el triunfo profesional, a unos señores que en su vida han hecho más que ganarse unas oposicioncillas de profesor de cerámica del gobierno municipal
- Señores. Y les hablo en su idioma, que es el mío,... creo. En cualquier caso, por favor, si hay alguien en la audiencia que no comprenda el cubano, porque solo habla vascuence, catalán y un poquito de castellano, anúncienoslo con antelación para que podamos montar el dispoitivo de traducción necesario... a ver... ¿Nos entendemos todos? Déjenme decirles que, al terminar la conferencia, distribuiremos transcripciones en cubano e inglés. Versiones en otros idiomas, como el castellano, gallego francés y alemán se venderán en la web a precios de $5. Otras en valenciano, gallego, catalán, bable, vascuence a $10. Esperamos así tener abastecidas todas las susceptibilidades... ¿Qué hacen ustedes por el bien del pueblo cubano? Yo nací en Cuba. Y me fui de allí pasados los 12 años, que, dícese, es la edad en la que se forma la conciencia histórica. ¿Van a decirme ustedes que quieren a mi tierra más que yo? ¿Pero cuando han salido ustedes de su casa? No se atreven a viajar a Madrid... y me van a decir a mí que están más enterdados de como funciona el mundo, como se construye un país, como se mantiene una familia desde el exilio... Sr. Zapatero... que yo sepa, su padre no salió de León, mucho menos usted. Sr. Rovira su padre se fue de Zaragoza a Lérida... yo, me fui de La Habana a Miami... yo hui de un régimen... ya se que está usted muy interesado en construir una cierta nación, pero espero que no cree un régimen como del que yo huí...

Desde aquí es muy fácil caer en el antiamericanismo. Pero es ese un capricho que no todos podemos permitirnos. Se trata de un niñería intelectual que los países desarrollados disfrutan y saborean desde el calor de sus cafés y sus tertulias. Pero no todos nos podemos permitir pensar, charlar, beber a sorbos nuestros cafés... Vendrán a decirme que la pobreza de Cuba viene impuesta por el bloqueo/embargo... que es a todas luces criticable.
¿Que sería mejor para el pueblo cubano? Ese ha de ser el rasero por el que se mida la funcionalidad de un gobierno. En el estado actual, ese es el rasero. Más adelante, la statehood, la independencia, el libre asociacionismo... todo ello dependerá de la habilidad política de los gobernantes del momento y de sus diferentes intereses. Poco tendremos que decir los españoles. Si nos gustaría que los cubanos decidieran libremente.
¿Se les permitirá? ¿Entraran en rencillas de quien es y quien no es cubano? ¿Se le negará la nacionalidad cubana a los exiliados? Es posible. Pero sería injusto. ¿Se le negó a los blancos de Sudáfrica la ciudadanía sudafricana? ¿No hay miles de españoles en toda Sudamérica que nunca han visto Europa pero que tienen el pasaporte por ser sus abuelos los únicos que nacieron en Españo si bien emigraron cuando tenían 5 años? ¿Y les niega nadie la ciudadanía española? ¿No regresaron exiliados españoles de la Guerra Civil en los 60s? ¿Se discutió que eran españoles?
Cierto que habrá cierto resentimiento pues es la comunidad cubana instalada en EUA la que mantiene el embargo... como se reconciliarán las partes dependerá del desarrollo económico y social que se intuya del futuro. El papel de EUA será decisivo. Pero ¿Y que? ¿Le quita eso validez al proceso? ¿La UE que no supo solucionar un problema doméstico como el del los Balcanes que tendrá que decir en el Caribe? Más aún. Fijémonos en un ejemplo de lo que se puede llegar a conseguir. Puerto Rico. Dos referendum se han convocado en los últimos 20 años y se ha dado la opción al pueblo puertoriqueño de decidirse entre la anexión (statehood), la independencia y el libreasociacionismo. Siempre ha ganado este último. Y la segunda opción, la anexíón. Pueden haber muchos miedos a la total independencia. Desde represalias americanas a convertirse en un Haiti. La opción existe. Es un Imperio al que te enfrentas, recordémoslo. Sabes lo que hay dentro de la Pax Americana, pero no sabemos lo que hay fuera... y concedámosles, que dan cierta autonomía dentro del Imperio. ¿O no hacen Francia, Alemania lo que quieren hasta cierta medida? ¿Cuál es la alternativa? ¿La Pax Europea? Ya existió... no nos engañemos hombre... y acabaron matándose los unos a los otros... somos un segundo agente al que mandan hacer algun trabajillo en algunos momentos para que parezca que existimos y para que no parezca que están ellos en todas partes... pero no ha lugar a tomar el relevo... sobre todo, que no va a agarrar un arma un europeo en los próximos 100 años... ¿Entonces? La Pax Chinesum... eso sí que tendría que dar miedo...

Loads of articles, essays... any sort of litterature was inspired by the issue primarily in Madrid and on a minor extent, in La Habana. I'd say the Spanish stance combines, certain regret for letting go the Always Loyal Cuba, a unavoidable proud for and empathy towards Castro since he kicked the asse of those who kicked ours, a romantic/qixotesque/iresponsible/selfish happiness inspired on the strength of the last communist, "revolutionary"? stronghold. Besides all that, the average spaniard sees Cuba as a familiar caribbean destination reserved for them, and just for them, protected from the americans by Castro and the embargo and from other nationals by the language. Somehow, modern politcs, and the actual combination of some factors, gave Spaniards what history deprieved them from. We switched from having our grand-grand parents migrating to any sugar cane plantation out in Cuba to their grand-grand sons, regardless of their civil status, flying filthy Iberia for 8hrs to enjoy all the pleasures the largest of the Antilles treasures (never better said)for their prodigal sons...

We might discuss on further postings what sort of relationships do we have with Cuba, the US...
All that came up cos the US Embassador in Madrid is a cuban born businessman, former Chairman of the Bank of America and CEO of the INS... Please, remember, we had it on the news, and how amased we got, when we learnt Eduardo Aguirre was appointed at the INS. Somehow what we felt when the General in charge of the US invasion in Afghanistan was from, not from mexican descent, actually, was, fully mexican.

I FINALLY EXPERIENCED BALTIMORE' S REPUTATION

When I first got to Baltimore, i asked a couple of times, specially to the relocation agent, how do americans look at Baltimore, what the city is known for besides crabs... I mean... Bostonians are tight-lips, Miamians are spanish-speakers, Newyorkers... well,... whatever... I didn't know about Baltimore.
She remained silent.
Then I heard it is one of the cities with the highest crime rates in the country. Apparently, a guy is shot at daily. Never ever anything happened to me. I've always been kinda lucky with all that. My brother was robbed 3 times back in Madrid, close to our place. I never was. In fact, stupidely, I slept more than once on public parks, private and gated gardens, got back home fully pissed after a solid night out through some non-go areas in Madrid. Bloody hammered. Walking for miles and miles not knowing where I was going. Making it wrong while I strided unconsciously, swinging from one side to the other of the pavement.
I always had a Safe Angel looking after me. That's why I never play lottery or gamble. I don't wanna waste my luck unproductively. You never can tell when you' ll be needing it...
Don't get scared about 2day. What happend is that somody yesterday night smashed the driver's window of the Lemon-Wagon and stole the stereo. Unluckily he didn't grab any WP. I didn't have my shades on the glove-box. Good!! But I rather get it fixed... the autumn is here... and all the rain they lack in Madrid... I might be getting it all...
All that because I got up with a knock on my door from a cop from the BPD. It's not nice being on a foreign country and having a cop waking you up...
I had more interaction with law enforcement agencies in the last 18 months than in 29 years in Spain... and when I ever met any... I always got pretty troublesome...
I still have to renew my insurance... I don't dare to figure out how much it will be...
Well. Please see some snaps of what my car looks like at this point:
Notice the dent on the right wing from Easter'05 due to the accidente Jove, Magio and Pakotxo had out in White Marsh. See how the boot doesn't close fully since Obesso figured out that to close a regular boot fully, you have to make sure there is room enough in between the lid and the top of the suitcases, that they do not selfcompress magically... that the lid needs getting down through its railings and that if there is a laptop blocking it, it turns out to be likely that you bend the screen and will be charged $700 for repairs... On the driver's door, you'll see that there is no window glass. I had it bursted the night before. Notice the bits on the mat ($206... out from my card...)
Sucks mate!!!!

I miss Europe. I was flipping through Miguel's blog, (http://maloosheck.blogspot.com) and it took me to what appeared to be one of his polish friend's blog. A girl living in Michigan(http://www.iskra.name/~kamil/blog/). Apparently she went recently to Edinburgh.
I wouldn't mind getting back there... making the Military Tatoo once... at least... I'll allways regret I'll never take dad there... that's life mate...
It's unbeliveable how little I care about this country... I know, for instance, Miguel has similar views... all of us europeans, from our accute selfindulgment, we are excessivelly critic and unfair with this country... I don't know whether those blogs might be bugged... but loads of books could be written with all the shit we throw at our hosts... it might be an excuse... a selfdefence mechanism... I cannot tell... but we definitively have more prejudicies than objectivism... we are too prone to criticise and barely praise...
Have we been lectured this way? Is this part of the multipolarism our polititians try to steer us through? Are we that different? Antiamericanism is huge nowdays in Europe, but it is fostered artificially in most countries... most europeans feel too confortable on a peace they didn't fight for...
I'll criticise this side of the pond on another post...

PS: I had the window repaired. $200. :-(

GETTING TO ARENA MEXICO

On-line ticketing is not that widespread in Mexico. Just as credit card are very seldom accepted on shops, tickets for events are rarely available online. So if you wanna get to the Arena Mexico for a Mexican wrestling combat you gotta put yourself at the box-office, find out that is located at the Balderas area, pull your stupid looking face, swallow your pride and feel ridiculous asking the stewards whether there are any tix left.
It’s kinda funny that Balderas area. Not that I asked a couple of guys handing volunteering leaflets by the metro station where the arena was and that they, quite stupidly, had no freaking idea; not that a friendly passer-by heard me asking about directions and took me along to the arena while chatting about his late life as professional football player for the Guadalajara Chivas (although as chilango, Cruz Azul was his second team) . It happened that the area is a government offices neighbourhood that has some implications in the surrounding economy. In Madrid, while at the University, we all know you can buy illegally copied versions of the text books on the bookstore at the campus or tipping the bloke in charge of the reprography department to have the books and the official courses copied when filed by professors. It’s been long since the last time I’ve been to any campus and I’m pretty off the track on how new classes “smuggle” and “traffic” with apuntes. I heard from my brother there are loads of websites where students upload their material for P2P sharing. So, where I said “funny”, should I have said “familiar, cosy, makes-you-feel-at-home”? Maybe. I just hope I do not hurt anybody’s sensitivity. I tried to make it as clear as possible what Mexico inspires me and how I see nowadays Mexico as the 1.955 or even 1.990 Spain.
Getting back to Balderas you’ll see a whole bunch of government related small businesses. Stalls offering legislation compilations either on paper format or on CD format: “Criminal law for Sinaloa, Coahuila and Aguascalientes with the civil prosecution law in DF”. “Joven, lo que quiera se lo mostramos, tenemos acá la relación completa de material y si no lo encuentra se lo podemos preparar – Muchísimas gracias amigo, solo estaba echando un vistazo”. Besides that, some free-lance clerks settled comfortably on camping tables on the pavement typing reports and any other kind of official forms for some pesos to some customers that unfortunately were not around by that time. And I say unfortunately because it would have been pretty enriching staying by for a while, wouldn’t it?
Much more shocking was passing by one of the buildings of the Procudaría del DF and facing a bloke getting into his car with a gun placed between is belt and trousers, no gun-jacket. But who seemed to be his wife and daughter, waiting for him on the car, didn’t seem to care, why should I?
Finally I put myself at the box-office. A bit of asking to the stewards, always makes you feel stupid. No credit card accepted so rushing to the closes bank office. Always speeding on the streets when there is money involved in it… what do you want… I couldn’t help it… It turned out to be a Santander Safir which somehow gives you some national pride. In what extent to we get any benefit from that, I cannot tell, but once again, I cannot help it. Notice the security officer heavily armed and his bullet-proof jacket. Back at the box-office I realised how lucky I was to be in Mexico and not stranded somewhere unable to speak the language. The accent difference might be a invitation as well to be cheated but nothing like that happened throughout the trip. In fact, everybody I got to talk to showed themselves courteous, friendly, helpful and, bound by curiosity prone to dialogue, chatting and discussion. All that because when I paid for the ticket (N$25) I gave the guy a N$500 note and he gave me change for N$100. To a “That’s it”, a straightforward “¡¿Cómo que ya es todo?! ¡Si le he dado 500!”. That, effectively, became very it for the whole week.

MORE ZOCALO

Way back to Balderas and rushing to Zocalo. Some pics of the whole square, a bit of shopping, particularly some vintage posters. That good old looking pictures in sepia style. Some revolutionary snaps and the cathedral back in 20s or 30s. N$5 each, great deal. Then by the Casa del Marqués del Apartado at Calle Seminario, there was an sculptor selling his clay craft. You always have the feeling that you can get a better deal than the one you are originally offered and, certainly you have to bargain over, but don’t push to hard because most likely the price you are offered is a fair one. Just do, and I am addressing Spanish readers, as you would at home. If you have the feeling that the guy you are dealing with is professional enough and is not really chasing you the get the deal done, most likely the price is a reasonable one and don’t insist excessively on dropping it because you won’t succeed and you will be acting as a pretentious foreigner. I bought three statuettes, around N$10 each. It was nice buying by a mum who was glancing by, with her daughter, who she just had collected from the school, wearing a green jersey and grey pleated skirt. As back home There was also some shops with military supplies. Very good stuff. I bought the badge you see on the pic. It is now sewed on my travel bag. :-)









PALACIO NACIONAL

At some point I found myself without really knowing what to do in Zocalo. Ok, on my right the Palacio Nacional and in front of me the Cathedral. I could spend hours and hours roaming through the books fair they had on the square. A lot to see, a lot to buy and a lot to read. Latin-American literature on its most pure representation. But not time enough and it would be a delusion pretending I was gonna buy anything. So it became really useful pulling the guide and finding out that it is at the Palacio Nacional where the most important murals of Diego Rivera are at.
It appeared to be true what it said on the guide, and you are effectively carded at the main entrance. Not surprisingly, the palace is the seat of the President of the Republic. Although cabinet meetings do not take place at the palace, official receptions and welcomes to foreign dignitaries and other civil representatives by the incumbent President are held at Palacio Nacional. Unfortunately I had not brought my passport or my American ID but they proved very friendly are keen to let a Spaniard getting in. Some good manners and a paused speaking did it. Good for me!
The building was the seat for the government since the Nueva España era. Cortés placed there his government, or maybe he started the construction and moved afterwards. Anyway. The effect is pretty much the same. Huge amount of servicemen, since there seats as well the DF Army Command. Loads of officers coming and going from here to there. Not a frantic atmosphere though. There I saw the monument or memorial that I liked the most, or that meant the most for me. It’s a real pity I didn’t bring my camera with me but that is something we cannot fix at this point. The memorial was about the harmony, the peace and the coexistence of native Mexico, represented by a Indian with a sort of Aztec outfit and the institutions, religion and race mixing the Spanish conquest brought over. That was represented by a bearded conquistador with his characteristic helmet. Both heads were attached to a central pillar, not larger than 30 cms., nape of the neck to nape of the neck, nailed on the pillar there is a Spanish sword and what seems an Aztec spear. At the bottom there is a plate celebrating a common will, brotherhood… somehow I identify the place I come from with the conquistador and that blessed message of peace and reconciliation is a type of welcome to us coming from the other side of the Atlantic. There is a question I kept on asking myself throughout the trip and that was how managed the institutional Mexico not to teach Mexican youth onto a severe hatred towards Spain and Spaniards. Spain does not come off well on history books but weirdly spain is looked at with certain respect. Maybe it followed as an example on how reach certain economic and politic development or maybe it plays the role of an impartial referee throughout South-America…
I first started walking around on my own and kind of selfstudying the mural itself. it was not that difficult, you might need some Mexican history knowledge to get all the historic background but you can do pretty good catching the anticlericalism, the Marxism, the criticism of the conquest, the anger towards slavery and torture, the revering of Benito Juárez… I still remember that couple, with who might be their Down syndrome affected daughter. The mum was really stylish and sophisticated and knew how to look much prettier than she was. The dad was holding the girl, and coming up the stairs on shaft by the mural. And as they both passed by I bowed my head to the kid throwing a slight smile and amazingly she pointed me, peered over his dad’s arms, stretched his arms trying to reach, she did, and plonked a kiss on my cheek. Maybe the best I drew from Mexico…
As I said somewhere else, I was shocked by how many students and national tourists visited the national sights. This time, there was a complete school class, all dressed up with their green tracksuit. Some of us stood by, maybe more because we felt it was a good occasion to pay back our absent-mindness while at school ourselves than bound by any real curiosity on what the teacher was saying. From what she said, I’ll bring some real catchy phrases:
· On the left, and what I’ll say your mothers might not appreciate it ”pero ni modo”, you guys can see how a clergyman embraces shamelessly a public woman. On his hand you will see he is holding a purse that represents the alms he perceives from the woman, which, together with the carnal pleasures, is the payment he requests for pardoning her sins. So that you guys can appreciate what role the Catholic Church plaid in the development of our country. (wooo…. Is that official message to the mexican childhood?)
· By the priest, you guys notice those pipes feeded with money, how the peasants and steelworkers feed it with money and how this is redirected to those men who represent the capital. They throw it back again keeping the good currency and feeding the system with fake money. Raúl wants to represent how certain lobbies are interested in keeping the people with useless and forged wealth, avoiding its redistribution and pooling all the richness on their hands.
· At the ancient Mesoamerican section, Diego Rivera shows who seemed to be the ancient god of Aztecs, a bearded man with a pale skin, in opposition to native Indians, who are smooth-faced and of a darker skin. He is supposed to represent a sort of a Viking sailor who reached America before Columbus did and was worshiped by Indians as a god or a king. Said the legend that he would return to request what was his realm on a certain date, that matched the one at when conquerors approached what for them was the West Indies. The natives, beholding bearded men, riding horses and shiny armours, swords and helmets, took them as the new envoy of the former king. What would have eased dramatically the task ahead the Spaniards.
· By the Cortes approaching the beach, you will see a friar holding a transept that he faces towards the conquistadores. Some Indians on their knees are grabbing and pulling his habit. He is Fray Bartolome de las Casas, the only clergyman who behaved consequently with his vows and defended native Americans as best as he could.
· On the conquest section you guys note how the Spaniards tortured with pitiless cruelty. You can see Cortés on two stages of his life cheating the Indians and his cruel chief lieutenant, Pedro de Alvarado, who inflicted the worst tortures on natives on his way to the conquest. He particularly enjoyed branding his slaves with red iron, treating them beast of a herd of his own.
· On this other section Diego pictures the revolucionarios. Brave men drawn from the people, upraising to defeat the injustices of the powerful, the despots and the bully. To defeat a corrupted government and give to people what belongs to him. There is Zapata, Villa and Madero.
Not really worrying and at least, instructive.
I moved on and caught up with a group of four of five people taken by a girl, on her early 20s or late 18s. She was what she looked she was. A student from the College of Tourism, doing some public services and showing around the palace, the murals, the former parliament and finally the apartments of Benito Juárez.
She was really cute so I followed her through the whole circuit once again.
@ the remaining murals,… I cannot really remember what all the murals were about… what comes to stress the importance of keeping a timely update, but I guess that at this point we should just stick to the most relevant comments and facts. Since the whole visit was so political and historical, and I can talk in this way more accurately than on the artistic one (I do better remembering that), let me just throw here some comments that can sum up the visit.
· Funny was how the mural about the Aztecs life was described. The most easily recognisable character was the Aztec whore and the bunch of would-be candidates surrounding her offering all kinds of presents to get her attention. One of them offering a flute, implying that he wanted his given a bit of a shake…
· Then the conquest mural. A single mural fully dedicated to the conquest and the torture that Spanish conquerors inflicted on native Indians. It shows Cortés pale, with some traces of green on his face, his legs covered on bandages and swollen by blisters leaking out pus. Apparently he was suffering from syphilis, since, as a good decadent Spaniard, he devoted himself to a vicious life. Some of those features also were shown on some of the Indians describing how much they suffered from the Europe-brought diseases for which they had not natural defences. Some other Indians were iron branded by friendly Alvarado. Some others, were hanging from trees branches by the feet.
What stuns me the most is how a deep remorse or hatred towards Spain and Spaniards is not rooted amongst the Mexican society being the official message about the conquest so openly against. Definitely the Christianisation of Mexico proved hugely successful, for after so many years of anticlericalism did not delete it fully. Or maybe the church was effective in grabbing and holding certain powerful niches. For instance, despite the huge anticlericalism I saw on the government, the archbishop of Mexico DF, Cardinal Norberto Rivera Carrera, stars constantly on the main national newspapers airing his views about current political and economical affairs.
· At the former parliament the most shocking was what I were shown at the top of the ceiling. There is a mason sun with I don’t know how many rays. Those come to represent some kind of enlighten or purposes that freemasons believe in and I don’t really understood.
· At the back of the room, there is a huge red velvet curtain from which hangs the tricolour flag. We were told that before that, during the first constitution, or rather before Benito Juárez, there was crucifix that was taken off and replaced by the flag.
· Firstly, when pointing the mason sun, our little girl didn’t say precisely that it was a mason symbol. But then an Argentinean gentleman noticed that and his wife asked innocently what masons are,… to what she was answered candidly: “una organización que busca la armonía universal a través de la superación contínua y el bien de la sociedad”??????...... “it’s an organisation pursuing the universal harmony through a continuous personal challenge towards excellence and a social well being”…
Well, when you hear something like that from a government official you just have to wander what else remains to be seen or to blossom…
I’m not really familiar with what masons really are as of today. During Franco dictatorship it was an offence being a member of any lodge of any sort, they were, along communists, labelled as of the mayor enemies of the regime. Most of the independence movements in south-America were accomplished by criollos who travelled to Europe and embraced the masonry philosophy by meeting, studying and interacting with English politicians, teachers... from whom they drew most of their principles. Apparently, the Mexican independence was accomplished by non-masons criollos who were subsequently overthrown by another regime deeply mason. That is something that is not studied in Spain, as most of the ancient and modern history. History is not really taught in Spain, but, certainly, was it taught, the mason influence in the defeat in the colonies would have not been addressed. Masonry is somehow a taboo in Spain. If you hear about how English freemasonry steered the independentist movements in SA, is through English school books. It is not just that the do not hide how English masons influenced SA and its independence wars, they boast it. And they claim they never needed carrying out any military action in the continent because all governments were ruled by fellow masons of the English lodges. Some spanish authors claim the role of masons on the independence of the former colonies more as a huge discover of a fact severely covered and to beat masons than as part f history. About the rol of masonry in the independence of Mexico you might wanna visit http://www.yorkrite.com/gcmx/os1999mx.html and his English version on http://www.yorkrite.com/gcmx/os1999.html. those are mason-written texts, http://espanol.geocities.com/informes/masoneria/In Spain there is somehow a crossed-fire between certain rightwing politicians accusing socialists of being masons, to what they never get a response. Whether because masons have to keep their condition secret (in Spain, since for instance in the UK, the Duke of Edinburgh is said openly mason) or because they fear the reaction of a still deeply catholic influenced society, I cannot tell. Surfing the net I fount an interesting article that I include a link to, by kind permission of the author, somehow describing what the actual situation he thinks is. http://valparaiso.indymedia.org/news/2005/07/3887.php http://libros.libertaddigital.com/articulo.php/1276229578 and church related: http://www.corazones.org/apologetica/grupos/masoneria.htm More: http://www.seudexativa.org/Noticias/2005/01/LA%20MASONERIA/masoneria.htm

We finally made it to the Benito Juarez apartments.
· Really worshiped
· The father of the actual laic republic
· A would-be humble man
· An image more than of what should have been rather than political role?
Anyway it was nice getting to where lived the man after who was named the Cancun’s City Hall, which was my first experience of Mexico.

OFF ZOCALO TOWARDS REFORMA

I didn’t feel like I wanted getting the arena with my rucksack with all the statuettes in it and I wanted to do a bit of walking. So I headed to Reforma to make it all the way down to Sevilla, dropping off the stuff and jumping onto the metro towards Balderas.Getting off Zocalo through Francisco Madero or 5 de Mayo was like making it through any street nearby Salamanca’s Plaza Mayor. That, at least, was my perception. A Zara on a corner, little churches… low level contruction with that XV-XVI century appearance (is that accurate? No fricking idea…) maybe the weather… partially clouded and that it was getting dark recalled those escapes to Salamanca back to October 1,998… Am I getting that old?I could have made it all the way south on Reforma, through the Columbus, Independence Angel and Diana monument to Sevilla,… but suddenly got in a rush an got a public bus. Crucifix, a radio hanging on the dashboard, N$2, a bit of packed… and nice driver who told where Hidalgo was.I rather head straight to Banderas and take the bag with me.

ARENA MEXICO

Really busy. Huge crowd. Pretty familiar atmosphere. Loads of kids running here and there, asking their dads to buy a masque before the fight. Countless taquerias all over. Really cute and stylish women, making it through the VIP area with their guys. I would have said that the arena was a free-sitting venue, but I was really taken to seat whose number was on my ticket.It was supposed a good fight. I just got there cos I had heard before about Mexican wrestling, about how popular it is, it has been even exported to the US,… see… and getting those guys to see something not of their own is a real success,… so it’s gotta be really great!!So there I was, ready to enjoy my first real Mexican show. Once again I cursed myself for not bloody bringing the camera with me. Corona N$15, if I didn’t drink like eight or ten I didn’t drink any… whatever… at some point I though the guy with the basket was cheating me,… but no… that was the real price.I am completely unable to tell you how many wrestlers took part on the fights. The main one was a well announced duel between Mistico and Atlantis, experience against the passion of the youth. There was as well the Perro Guayo and all his buddies, the so called Perros del Infierno or something like that, boasting the slogan “Pocos son los elegidos” if I remember right… they welcomed the whole audience through the cameras of Televisa and that was a lot of fun.The choreography seemed so scheduled and to be pulled from a script that I do not understand how was that nobody really knows who the victor will be.Some wrestlers are masked (as most kids on the public) and others not. I cannot tell whether that is up to them or to the manager or it is a marketing requirement. At some point you might feel curious to see who the masked guy is, but when you see by them so many unmasked, you realise it is much more funny and colourful, somehow enigmatic, when they keep their masks.They really happened to be very friendly with all the audience, the drag their feet on the catwalk before they head back to dressing room and beam to be taken some pics. Apparently it is not allowed to snap the wrestlers and if you do you might have to face a suited gentleman asking you to hand him you mobile or camera. As far as I saw a bit of comedy and some apologies usually sort it out.It was interesting listening to the presenter of the event. The introduction he did for the event was really emotional!!!… I can’t tell how does it work on other events but that was really impressive…
· Welcome to the greates show on heart!
· The mexican entertainment by excellence!
· A real family show where parent can rise the kids in a healthy atmosphere!
· No politics, no left or right, just pure Mexican wrestling!
What else can you ask for, right? At the end of the fight, after the new challenger defeated the old dinosaur (don’t remember who was Misitico and who was Atlantis) you are (if rookie on the ceremony that MW involves) you are supposed to rush towards the catwalk and try to snap or grab an autograph from whoever the winner is. So I did. Back to my spot my rucksack had flew from underneath my seat. Then I heard “ya regresó el muchacho, dale la bolsa que no se la quiten”… thanks for that amigos…On my way back home I thought about getting a cab, but, apparently, that would have not been a good idea… definitely it was becoming ridiculous all those warning about safety and stuff… but whatever, I ridded metro, N$2 and it should just be 2 stations to Sevilla… and a cool atmosphere on the way to station,… pretty much the same we have in Madrid when getting back from the Bernabéu…. Los mexicanos q conozco son como mis colegas de Madrid… todos unos acojonados… no sé… quien sabe como me verán ellos a mí… Pero ¿Cuántas veces me preguntó C si gente del arena me parecía tal o cual? En fín… luego buscaríamos momento para los autoanálisis…

CHAPULTEPEC, ANTHROPOLOGY MUSEUM AND ZOCALO OR POLITICAL HOTBED

First of all, let me advise you to visit http://www.ciudadmexico.com.mx for a general overview of what to see/do/crash @ in Mexico, DF.
Beginnings are not easy. If you are communicating on a language that is not yours the pain increases hugely. It's about typing, it's about looking up words on the dictionary, it's about misspellings, it's about grammar,... but since I am on this side of the pond and... it's not that I try to reach as many readers as possible, but I wanna make it accessible, universal... borderless... Loads of times I go stuck, wordless and start surfing the net or IRCing just to get a break and seek some inspiration... breaks that somehow become long-lasting gaps of writing... hopefully in the long run the option was for the best... in some extend, it makes me feel freer (not Freed, from FCPD...), posting in the English language, despite how inefficient I seem to be at some points...
The style is certainly improvable... I apologise to English-speaking readers... if any...

I got up whit the buzz of an helicopter hammering my neck. Dryness. Dust smell, throat and nose irritated... not really able to tell whether due to the altitude, the contamination, the filth on the room... but certainly not a very pleasant sensation...
I didn’t feel too confident when I started strolling through the streets. Definitely, I had allowed all those warnings to affect me unconsciously. I felt embarrassed to ask whatever to anybody. I went round and round the same block looking for a hardware shop without daring to ask for directions. It was more due to that stupid feeling you have when you travel to any security-related issue… but anyway, that is how I felt. I even felt a bit of shy to get out my room and meet the hostel staff. Originally I thought those guys at the lounge were some other guests, but they happened to be landlady and her cousin, so after an hesitating go forward and backward I finally asked, a stupidly straightforward question, where could I buy some soap and a sponge. The shop was highly similar to those we have in Spain. Maybe as they are everywhere. But it certainly looked more like a Segovia droguería than to a US CVS pharmacy.
Not easy figuring out what to do for the first day. You wanna walk, for this is the best way to experience a city. But you don’t know where to head to. Then you don’t really wanna ride metro (since from now on I strongly encourage dong so. It’s convenient, inexpensive, safe and fast). I finally went for Chapultepec Palace turned into the National Museum of history.
I walked down Av. Chapultepec and bought a couple of disposable cameras since, stupidely, I didn’t take my digital camera with me just in case I got mugged. Disposable camera x2 = N$240. Really lively and frantic Pza. Chapultepec, where the Avenue with the same name ends up, or begins, depending on what way are you looking at. Originally built obeying the sovereign will of France appointed Emperor Maximiliano. I don’t really know how the whole story was like but it ended up with the man being beheaded. I good practice used by certain people such as French, English, Mexican themselves, Russians,… although those last what they really did was shooting the whole family. Getting back to the point, the Frenchman, apparently, was not a big fan of what the views from the castle were, and missing la grandeure française from Paris he decided he wanted a large avenue offering him a good overview of the city and an easy way to put himself in what the administrative core of the city was, el Zocalo.
It might not be easy to describe what a Mexican plaza looks like, but maybe not that much turning it alive. It’s like a huge fleamarket, full of stalls lining up at pavement shrinking it by half, marquee-dodging becomes indeed a pretty funny sport. Burnt CDs, DVDs, appliances of all kinds… fast food… but real Mexican food… al least 30% of all merchants are selling in-the-moment-made fast food. Not just straightforward tacos precooked shit shipped in by a McDonalds carrier. From what I saw, stall keepers get to work early in the morning and start pulling out all their pans, pots… and carefully season, fry, knead, warm… all the food they’ll be selling throughout the day.

• Tacos: the main dish you can get and what appear to be the most popular. The original tortilla is substantively smaller than those you get at any US restaurant. Actually, those that I had in Madrid, somewhere in Chueca and Bilbao are really similar to those sold in mexico. When you get a taco, you are given a small plastic dish to eat it that you should be returning for refill or when you are done for cleaning others use. Gut (tripa), sausage (longaniza), veal (res), chicken (pollo), Mexican sausage (chorizo. En España tenemos el mismo problema. Para nosotros el chorizo es eso, chorizo, no una salchicha. Aunque empíricamente mirado si que es una salchicha)
• Tacos de canasta: I didn’t do those at Chapultepec or Sevilla but at el Zocalo. I don´t think I can really describe what this exactly is, but, roughly, 7 tacos de canasta for N$5 was a pretty good deal, since all the maize you get from the tortillas are a pretty good instrument of hunger-quenching.
• Sope: it´s like a green dough of maize, pressed, stretched, fried, folded and stuffed with a kinda cottage-cheese, beans, and some other stuffs…

There are many more dishes but since I always did tacos and I´m kinda struggling with the wording you guys get urs arses there are experience by urslves… if up to…

that because I was talking about Chapultepec. So… should I get back to the trip…?
Something as easy and going through the underpass become an unreachable milestone...All what you want… it’s all still about those security concerns… towards the end of the trip, those fears pretty much faded away. Do not ask what bus should you be taking to get there cos it’s just a few yards away from the underpass mouth. Chapultepec castle is at the top of a hill. You can get a train that takes you the top and apparently tell some kind oh story about what the story of the place is. I made it walking. Definitelly, I shoud workout a bit more…

On the foot of the hill there is a national monument for independence. Interesting.
Then getting to the top and pulling into the castle. Surprisingly, what shocked my the most was how many Mexican nationals tourist were on all the places I visited. Was it at Chapultepec, at museums, at the National Palace at the pyramids… I wouldn’t be wrong to say 90% of the visitors were Mexican nationals. Not meaning that there were not foreigners, specially on highly-visited routes, but there was an evident interest in locals (or no so locals) and national schools in visiting their national heritage.
On the way up I met a couple from Zaragoza that reminded me how funny “coger” sounds like when used to the mexican speaking. A really tiring stroll with the altitude. A stop was a must every 10 min or so, although I’m in pretty bad shape…
Interesting in itself the castle. Loads of tourist wardens. Well maintained. Well organised and structured following and understandable timeline from the first settlements of prehispanic civilisations to the most recent periods such as the porfiriato. On the outside, a memorial to los niños heroes, the cadets of the military academy who held the assault from the US army at the castle during the US-mexican war until surrendering yielded into the Stars and Stripes flied at the castle mast. Summing up: prehispanic civilisations, spanish conquest, spanish rule, independence war, first constitution, Benito Juarez, porfirito, revolutions, American war, PRI… I’ d say Spaniards came off pretty well from the whole exhibit. And asking around to take me a picture became pretty interesting above all for them, meeting a Spaniard walking on his own seemed pretty unusual and “satisfying”?

I then headed to the National Museum of Anthropology. Visit the website, it’s great: http://www.mna.inah.gob.mx. In Mexico, as in anywhere else, when professionals are given resources the outcome is certainly rewarding. When you get into the main lounge you’ ll be welcomed by a message from the President who opened the museum praising the heritage of the pre-columbian era which should bring inspiration, hope and cheer to the Mexican people. Built in the 60s, the inside shows what I’d consider, was I in Spain, a typical public building with old-fashioned dark wood slats. Let’s say that a more updated deco would something like large glass ceilings and see-through plastic partitions. It might seemed quoted from “Viaje a la Alcarria” by Camilo Jose Cela, who said about the public school of Pastrana, (or was it Brihuega?) “that it was in derelict conditions but clean, neat and tidy”. The MNA is no extent derelict or bad maintained. On the contrary, its floors were continuously cleaned and polished; at least 2 security guards per room kept an eye on visitors. But it somehow lacked a XXI appearance. It covered all civilisations from all regions of the Republic. Huge pieces of art, the most stunning the Solar Calendar that you will find on the football national team t-shirt. A must for anybody visiting Mexico. No flash allowed and strictly enforced. Professional and friendly staff. It s a pleasure visiting Mexico.
I was certainly suffering from height-sickness, I had to seat for some minutes at each room. I was really worried,… I know I might drink heavily (well, US standards, nobody else would take the trouble to grade one’s drinking…) but my smoking is not that sever and I didn’t turn 40 yet so… Why am I so exhausted? Well, I finally found out. Or was it just an excuse…? Who knows...
Very nice the museum. I’m not a museum kind of guy so, I wouldn’t say that I rushed through the exhibit, but I enjoyed the ruins and took off. Indeed, I spent as long recovering from the tiredness than looking at the models. If you cannot stay long, give a gander to the stones and move.

I moved to El Zocalo. That is the bit of the city I enjoyed the most. The square itself remind me, somehow, the layout of the Plaza Mayor (although much larger and with many more historic landmarks), the vitality of el Retiro, the hub sensation you get at Puerta del Sol, as icon for DF as Cibeles for Madrid and as political stage as the Paseo de la Castellana. So that, you really feel being in Mexico there. As I got pretty late in the evening I didn’t do much, just hanging around and getting into the Cathedral which, as most, results more impressive inside than outside. It is the largest in south of Rio Grande and since there is not much to give about those n the north it is most remarkable Christian building in the American continent. What shocked me the most was the political atmosphere you get in the surrounds with plenty of Zapatistas supporters not demonstrating, but deploying banners with vivid slogans awakening conscious, spoiling the place or messing around, it all depends on who’s looking at it. I rather say that it gives a sense of freedom of speech and democratic health. Alas I took no pics of those guys… you don’t really wanna look a dummy bloke snapping as Chinese...
There was a native american puffing smoke from an aztec-looking pipe into a chick who was certainly spanish: that mysticism face she pulled can only be achieved after years of training on instituciones liberales

Highly patrolled the whole square.
There were groups of kids performing different acrobatic acts.
I got to Calle de la Moneda and it was like a huge fleamarket. When I did Palacion Nacional, whose windows face that street, the uproar made it looking like a huge demostration, but what it was, was hundreds of stalls selling clothes, crafts,... everything. And loads of food. Very busy. Loads of chilangos (no quiero ser peyorativo) strolling, buying, hanging... living, indeed...
As I wondered the streets, I lost my way, and remembering Tepito is no far from there, I rushed a bit to get back to Zocalo.
There was a books fair going on. It's a shame not having time enough to read everthing you might want... and all those books, that explosion of Iberamerican litterature, revolutionary, political in general, cultural, novels, miscellaneous styles... everything very appealing... it really makes you swing from english written litterature to Spanishamerican... that much time wasted.
Funnilly, there was a radio presenter, Spanish, announcing the release of his new book. Something about sexuality. She then answered questions from the audience. When asked what she thought about the discrimination gays are subjected to, she did a bit of cocksucking to the authorities, praising them for passing a bill in the DF prohibiting any restricition when applying to a job due to sexual orientation. Well... good law to have.
It then started raining cats and dogs. The conference was stoped cos the electrical equipment might become a bit dangerous with all the rain water.

And that’s pretty much it. I got back home in metro, got to a restaurant in Sevilla, got a torta, pulled my newspaper, read most of it (cumbre iberoamericana in Salamanca) and got back home. Pretty tired… recovering from the heights…

A LATE DEPARTURE AND A "PICARESQUE" EPILOGUE

Understandably, something happened. It always does. Luckily, it was the only regrettable episode we experienced. And, if you consider the flying time that we saved and the stop and airport-roaming that we skiped, it might have been a profit rather than a disadvantage.
It definitlly happened to be a very exigent and demanding timetable. Taking off at 630am!!?? For God's sake!! I was not born in that freaking country!! Come on mate!! I was forced to have siestas when kid back in El Escorial!! How that in hell you wanna me macking it at 5a!!!?? No way dude... I really tried my best... I even told Olea to set his alarm and commend himself to San Josemaria too, with the help of God, getting up on time. Unfortunatly (or not?) it didn't work. We got up at 6a, so really thight to make it at IAD by 530a...
Really depressing... How much was the next tik gonna be? Could I get a flight? For how much? After all the rubbish we had from the whole Canada affair (Vive le Quebec libre!!!) it became really frustrating having one more trip spoileed this way...
Quick shower... bad looking... some cursing... loads of shitting...
And finally jumping onto the car. No much traffic really... As for DC standards easy flowing stream... pleasant weather...
And we got to IAD. Say bye. And head to the USAirways desk.
-Sorry madame. Apparently I didn't make to my flight to Charlotte this morning. I was transfering there to Mexico City. What can we do?
Some options.
1- Jumping on the next flit to CLT. But not on time to transfer to MEX.
2- Waiting till 2morrow for the same flit, same time, same fare!!?? No penalties??!! well... doesn't look bad at all... not that bad those Chap11 airlines...
3-Fly on US to LA and then to Mexico... well that'd mean a lot of miles on my account... but I don't really see the point in getting to Zimbabwe on my way to Argentina...
4- Get to the UAirlines and ask them to have you on the non-stop flight at 5.30pm.... they can do that?... yeah, I'll writte "face value" on the ticket and you'll need them accepting the endorsement... sounds like a really good option to me... not that bad at least... Early in the morning I was ready to pay an extra $400 tik...
well... and then like at any other airport... get here... get there... talk to X... yell at Y... don't look to frustrated... mind the cops... don't look to suspicious...
It might become to long. So let's sumarise somehow.
I made it through the checkpoint, previous stripping and of course, as an added tip from the TSA guys, xtra searching, since, I don't know why, I was "randomly picked to perform xtra security procedures..." I cannot wait to see what's gonna happen when I make to Jamaica... I can already feel somebody's finger doing dirty stuff looking for either cubans cigars or jamaican botanic... I think I'll have beans for breakfast on the morning...
Not an easy airport to hang in IAD. I mean. It's a cheap one. No many facilities on the so called "Dulles Air Shopping Center". Which is good. Good for you and your checking account. But pretty bad for ur stomach. We should be used by now but there are certain things that really go beyond any reasonability (??). Just get to McDonald's at IAD. If you get any chance, after a 15min-queue, to be served by any of the indis scullions and didn't throw up in view of the smashed chips on the floor, the black greasy nails, the mousthached upper-lips, the nose-rubbing and the subsequent food handling... certainly mate you deserve the best recognition...
Besides that, the BigMac you get... a bleak bun with almost nothing in it but a sad black-looking leave of letuce, no pickles, no BM sauce, no onion... and don't even try to complain... you' ll be looked at with what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about-I don't-even knoew-what-a BMc-is kind of expression...
Nothing really relevant at the lounge. Flights to Vegas and SFran. Some American Expats...
And then, after like 5hrs waiting our flight was next. A bit of everything. White fellows with two suitcases full of US-bought shirts, one paischa with his cowboy hat ready to get to Sonora, (I' m starting to think how much I wanna get to Mexico and how little I care about english-speaking caribbean... but certainly at this point, we gotta look at it more positively, a profitable experience rather than anything else... it really sucks that whole story about PRico and the waiting and all the shit...), another native guy with a bohemian sombrero and a D'Artagnan looking goat-beard, one more dude on corporate suit and spardilles... (nice combination...)
Boarding. Sitting by a dutchwoman speaking a decent spanish and reading a dutch author book about The Forgotten Children of Guernica... very colourful... very diverse...
After a 5hrs-flight we landed. Aeropuerto Internacional Benito Juarez. in the next days we'll see how franchmason the institutional-Mexico is.
"What is masonry?" would eventually ask an argentitnian touristwoman "a philosophy meant to improve the human being through hard labour to accomplish the search of supreme common well-being" would respond the tourism student guiding us at the National Palace... Definitely Peru became too expensive... otherwise... we should have staid in Spanish America... there is much more to learn and experience from our perspective... indeed, Jamainca was the backyard for the wars in Cuba...
After making it wrong on the customs and going to the flight-transfers section, I fianally found my way through tourists entry kiosks. I got N$500 from the cash dispenser. It might seem excesive. But actually, it' s a bit less than $50 and you manage it not wisely, but not stupidely, it lasts and lasts as the unbeareable Duracell bunny. N$7.5 withdrawl fee. Not even $1. You amercican bank willcharge you more than the mexican. No doubt Europe is a better neighbour than the US.
If you wanna get somewhere in the city you need to get to the "Authorised Taxis Office" which is right passed the main gate on the Ground Transportation area. You cannot miss it. A huge banner with red letters on a white background. N$150 for a one passenger trip to Colonia Benito Juarez (mas de lo mismo). Once again I got slightly confused with the fare. It seemed a lot... but... just arrived you do what are told... and it turned out to be fair and reliable.
After the first minutes on the cab I felt somehow phiscally unconfertable. Red irritated eyes, a sever dryness... it was nothing but the beginning of the adaptation to the DF climate. 2,200 mts. alltitude and high rates of contamination.
I was really shocked about the cabbie. Huge culture. Paused speaking. Wise (indoctrinated?) speech. All and all, politically concerned and what appeared a solid line of arguments. It prove a very succesfull topic to bing out the Obrador affair. It would be too long describing what the whole story is. I don't think I have the knowledge nor the skills or expertise needed to somehow sum up what the story is. It has become the controversial issue in recent mexican politics. But from what I experienced in DF (it certainly is not a representive sample for he was overwhelmigly elected mayor of the city but his publi support in other areas of the country is kinda weak, specially in the north) there is a sharp line dividing opinions, confronting leftwingers and rightwingers, which in a country with a broader middle class would not represent a mayor problem. However, in Mexico due to its social structure and the neigbouring of so extremists countries in their beliefs (USA, Cuba, Venezuela,...), the next presidential elections in 2006 will have a huge interest. More than that, the presidential campaigns. Hopefully Mexico will not suffer a new Colosio-like fiasco and the mexican democraty regime will go ahead and will prove strong enough. I found on the web a spanish written essay that depicts, on my opinion, quite fairly the whole lot (http://www.monografias.com/trabajos15/lopez-obrador/lopez-obrador.shtml. I attach the following by kind permission of Iris Gastelum Gerardo, studend of the Journalism College of the University of Sonora, Sonora, Mexico). All that just to share with you, from the dark of the night, as the Scotland the Brave chords come from London, how impressed I was with the driver speaking. He was pro-Obrador. 1-0 on the scoreboard.
What he came to say might summed up as follows:
- He works very hard.
- He tries to follow a life without all the convenience civil servants enjoy.
- He is under death threat, but he is determined to push ahead with his reforms. "If they kill me, there will always be somebody ready to take over... there is no reverse..."

I finally got to the hostel. Hostal Casa Vieja, Mexico City, Mexico
Cerrada de Londres # 7, Colonia Juárez (Between Sevilla Ave. & Toledo St.)
Not a very nice looking driveway. At leaste, the first view was kind of shocking... Cars paked randomly blocking each other. Grooved tarmac... A warm detail. A woman peering through his window and asking, glad to break monotony of his evening, what door were we looking from. On a bend on the wall, was #7.
Check in. Passport details. Which one my room is. Actually I got a twin for single use. For a couple of nights. The guy who booked it didn't show up,... So I had that concession from "Diego?", the manager/owner of the hostel,... he was more a kid than an adult... maybe a bit complexed with "being the servant"... I gave him a good rating on www.hostels.com but rather cos I felt the obligation to help mexican business to pull ahead than cos he made me feel at home... to be honest, he should have tiped me the last day and not the opposite. The whole stay costed me N$540, but I paid N$600,... I mean... $6...?
I droped the bag. I asked Diego how much should I be charged for a chela: N$12. I got down at the very precise moment they were shutting down the bar right down the corner, "Restaurante Nuevo Londres" where who lately resulted to be a good man to hang out with directed me one block away. After a "Is it safe?" I got a "Don't worry... you'll survive..." on my benefit I'll say that most of the warnings and worries I had, I got them from the mexican guys I hang out with... no drama, no histeria from my side,... or at least selfinflicted... but when you have Victor warning you "Te van a violar y matar,... cabron,..." ... what you want me to do...? What can you expect...?
Well, i finally pulled into Gallego-kind-of-joint. Actually much cleaner. I finally got to talk with perito who pretended being a cop, he flashed a embroided badge he had on his wallet dusty and ripped... ok... if that made him happy... what should I awake him...? but keep some distance... and then the bartender, who apparently was the son of the owner. Being on the other side of the bar made him a bit wiser... at lease during labour hours...
They happened to be good guys to talk to. Some good bar chatting, a couple of chelas on the house, not too teasers...
By the end of the session I thougth he cheated me, charging N$20 per beer ($2!!!). But considering what time it was I' ll give them that I paid much more than tha a certain after hours in Madrid.

Bueno, este post (¿cómo se dirá en español?)lleva mucho tiempo coleando. Hay que acabarlo como sea, aunque sea en castellano. Lo siento por los catalanes. Me llevaría más tiempo hacerlo en argentino y ya huele no acabarlo. Quiero decir que después de las copas andaba con hambre, así que subí a casa, le pregunté a Diego cuanto me pedirían por un taco, le enseñé que llevaba como 8 pesos. Aparentemente, con eso me daban un taco de sobra. Me voy hasta la taquería, que luego resultaría un sitio estupendo en el que comería un montón,... llego con cara de tonto, de no saber de que va el tema... "Ponme unos tacos... ¿De que? no sé... que tienes? res... tripa... bueno,... ponme lo que sea... para llevar o para tomar... pues... no sé... para llevar... me da el plato y tiro para casa "¡Pero el plato no mi joven!" bueno... cara de imbécil... de date prisa y acaba ya... que esto parece que estamos en Baltimore de lo mal que nos sentimos los dos. Tenga joven, cóbrese. Mucho gusto. Adios, hasta mañana...
A la larga... me convertiría en un experto de las taquerías... hasta hablaría de toros en ellas...

INBOUND NON-STOP FLIGHT, OR FORESEE ANY BORDER CROSSING DELAY

I got it.
I'll be flying out from IAD and calling at Charlotte, NC. I'll get to DF at around 12.30 on October 12th, Dia del Descubrimiento. It'd be great finding out whether there is any special event or celebration scheduled out in the city.
I'll fly back on Monday, October 17th to IAD.
Non-stop, just in case any friendly and helpful DHS official decides that I should be retained for some hours... which saw what happened out in Canada (Vive le Quebec libre!!) would be the smallest of the problems. Should I consider not to travel?... Well... I already did... but what...? if I don't extend, or if I don't do the panamerican... how likely is that I' ll be heading back to Madrid without having been to Mexico? If I have to wait for those guys to set up a trip to Mexico I' d never be going... so, that's it,... and if on Monday there is somebody waiting for anything he can fuck himself... full stop...
But it's gonna be really important lining up the long weekend... we gottat make it profitable...
¡¡Eugenia sácame de paseo!! Que yo te invité al béisbol coño...

FROM A CROSS-COUNTRY ROAD TRIP TO A FIRST TASTE OF MEXICO

That lasta weekend I got to Boston. The original idea was doing a bit of shark fishing. Unfortunatly and very regretably, one of the pals had to jump on a flight and head to Barcelona. His dad, sick from a terrible cancer that has spread from the lungs to the brain, hiting on his way the liver and other organs, has entered what appears to be the final stage. Nobody dares to ask when will he be coming back,... if he does...
Our deepest and most sincere prays go to his family as to him, and we ask our Lord to bring them some confort. May the Guadalupe Virgin intercede in the presence of the Father.
What happened is that we had to cancel the fishing since Dani was the only one familiar not only with the offshore fishing ceremony but with the most straightforward way of holding a fishing rod.
We met in Boston one of our colleagues who is transfering to San Fran. She' s got a Mini and does not want to drive it all the way to the west coast (3,111 miles or 5,102 kms). It seemed a pretty cool ride and taken by a suden emotion we offered ourselves to drive the car. We' d pay for the flight from BWI to BOS and for any incidental lodging. She'd pay for the petrol, the tolls and the flight back from SFran to Balto. Once back home I realised that' d very tyring. It would not be really worthy. Once in SFran I don't really know how funny it'd be and doing it on my own implies that the only enjoyable bit would be the driving itself and the final result, the coast to coast driving (I just found out that the shortest way would be through Canada, from Niagara Falls in NY to Windsor-Detroit. We would have got on I-80 at Scranton, PA and then all the way to the west through Cleveland, Chicago, Des Moines, Omaha,... Salt Like, the very top of Nevada, Reno and finally getting to SFran). Was I calling at Vegas or driving withe some more pleasant company than myself... I would certainly go crazy after all those hours of thinking and reconsidering my life...
So that's it. I won't do it.
But there are some days off that I have to take in within the next few weeks. I did some research and found flights to DF for around $350. Considering what I paid for the flight to Boston, I think it's reall worthy. I just gotta solve the hoteling and figuring out something cool to do in DF. All that passes, as always, by having someone taking me out and, in the best case, offering me his/her hospitality... I just shot an email to Eugenia... hopefully we draw somthing good... a bit of sightviewing, a bit of hanging... a bit mexican taste (a lot of it!!!), another stamp on the passport (f****** canadians didn't do it... Vive le Quebec libre!!!!) let's see what happens...