Two Articles

A couple online articles from recent times, both from Global Post.

With (amazing) photos from my longtime homey, Mr. Adam DeWolfe, Surfing in Puerto Escondido.

A perfect combination of ocean dynamics and sandbank shape allows the wave to break in such a way that it creates a tube large enough for a surfer to crouch or stand in, and — ideally — speed back out of before the tube closes, crashing the wave over top of them. The bigger the wave, the bigger the tube, the bigger the thrill — and risk.

“Pleasure or punishment,” laughed Moises Cortez Villalai, a local surfer and owner of a surf shop up the coast. “Either you make it out of the tube, or you get crushed by the force of it.”



A little further north on the southwest coast, the lesser-known history of Mexico's African descendants.

The common story goes that somewhere off Mexico's southwest coast, a Spanish slave ship crashed in the 1600s. Its human cargo fled to shore, adapting to a new life of freedom.

Hundreds of years later, descendants of these ships are the reason for the distinctly African features of villagers living throughout what today is known as the Costa Chica.

Follow Up on Disturbing Massacre

Wall Street Journal's article about regarding the recent massacre of 72 migrants brings an even more harrowing dimension to this event that makes it all a little worse. Writes DAVID LUHNOW And JOSé DE CóRDOBA at WSJ:

"Early in the day, news spread fast that a prosecutor from the northern state of Tamaulipas charged with investigating the massacre of the migrants near the Texas border had disappeared along with another state official involved in the case, stoking fears that both men have been killed, officials said.

The state attorney general's office in Tamaulipas said Roberto Suarez and another state official disappeared on Thursday, shortly after they were assigned to the case of some 58 men and 14 women from Honduras, El Salvador, Ecuador and Brazil allegedly killed by a drug gang.

Mexican media reported that Mexican marines had found Mr. Suarez's body dumped alongside a highway. But a spokeswoman for Mexico's navy said she couldn't confirm that report"

Not sure why the Navy has to confirm this, but nonetheless. A scary dimension to an already horrific situation in the northern state of Tamaulipas.

Disturbing Massacre

72 migrants from El Salvador, Honduras, Brazil and Ecuador were kidnapped, and summarily executed two days ago in the violence-ridden northern state of Tamaulipas. Some original reports on this were fairly misleading, suggesting that this was the discovery of another mass grave, similar to the one recently found in Taxco - I only realized late today what had really happened.

Though migrants face risks of all dimensions passing through Mexico in an attempt to reach the US, this is the largest single attack on record, and a gruesome articulation of how risky those travels can be.

AP has the most informative story on this for now, that I am linking through the NPR site.

"The national rights commission estimates nearly 20,000 migrants are kidnapped each year based on the number of reports it received between September 2008 and February 2009 — numbers the federal government has disputed...

...In an April report, Amnesty International called the plight of tens of thousands of mainly Central American migrants crossing Mexico for the U.S. a major human rights crisis."

Follow Up on ADD

In relation to my internet reading problems, got some great email feedback yesterday. Most notably, a 'gud-fren' who I think suffers from a form of ADD bred from hyper intelligence, put me on to this piece from NPR, "Digital Overload: Your Brain On Gadgets." There's a written and audio part.

"The average person today consumes almost three times as much information as what the typical person consumed in 1960, according to research at the University of California, San Diego," the article starts.

"And The New York Times reports that the average computer user checks 40 websites a day and can switch programs 36 times an hour."

Most interestingly - in the sense that I 100%, 'amen brother,' agree - is this:

While out in the wild, the scientists — skeptics included — noticed something significant happening on the third day they couldn't use their hand-held devices, computers and mobile phones.

"You start to feel more relaxed. Maybe you sleep a little better. Maybe you don't reach for your phone pinging in your pocket," Richtel says. "Maybe you wait a little longer before answering a question. Maybe you don't feel in a rush to do anything — your sense of urgency fades.

This all reminded me of a great article I read in the Atlantic a while back, "Is Google Making Us Stupid?"

Says author Nicolas Carr:

My mind isn’t going—so far as I can tell—but it’s changing. I’m not thinking the way I used to think. I can feel it most strongly when I’m reading. Immersing myself in a book or a lengthy article used to be easy. My mind would get caught up in the narrative or the turns of the argument, and I’d spend hours strolling through long stretches of prose. That’s rarely the case anymore. Now my concentration often starts to drift after two or three pages. I get fidgety, lose the thread, begin looking for something else to do. I feel as if I’m always dragging my wayward brain back to the text. The deep reading that used to come naturally has become a struggle.

A few full disclosure points

1) From the time I read that Google to now, the internet-ADD is much more severe.

2) As I started re-reading that article, I clicked over to write this post

3) Aforementioned friend caught me on Gchat, and our ensuing conversation spanned killings in northern Mexico, a huge south swell that just rocketed up the Pacific coast and our mutual desire to have the focus of, say, an Honore de Balzac, loined in monastic cloth, toiling with the pen uninterupted through the night. Instead, we were on Gchat late night when I was trying to finish off an article pitch email.

sigh

Trying to Read vs The Interconnected Webbings

When I have "a helluva lot" to do, I can be very focused, and exceptionally productive. Though, admittedly, not always. When I have a "medium lot" to do, no fixed deadlines, that is when trouble begins. Trouble not in the sense of having nothing to do, and ceding to the impulse to give a 4am "yes" to offers of another drink, but instead, of internet ADD.

As of about a month, I have been making an effort to get through a laundry list of long-form journalistic articles I have collected and flagged over the years. This was partially spurred by a message on a writer's list serve I'm on, partially from being sick of my rule to only read in Spanish and partially by the fact that I really want to work on more long-form stuff. Because its awesome, and - at various times - great examples have made me stoked on Russian literary buffs, Mexican hit men and rambling through various permutations of "the woods."

For those interested, longform.org is a great source [c/o Glenna], and Kevin Kelly has a great list of "best magazine articles", though its a bit heavy on the Foster Wallace Factor and light on other recent genii. Also, paying 16 bucks to Harper's (for example) gives you full access to their archives, same with lots of others, like Rolling Stone, Atlantic etc.

In lieu of living in places that don't sell mags that fit this realm (at least not in my idioma materno) the internet is theoretically a great resource. Which I find challenging.

Examples.

Hunter S. Thompson's "The Kentucky Derby is Deprived and Decadent" and David Foster Wallace's "Federer as Religious Experience" remain amazing articles despite, a) that I have read them both before and b) their authors were under-utilized and and overrated as "underrated prophets", respectively. Inexplicably, I kept clicking away during the time it took me to read them - forgot to send an email, "maybe I should check if I have an email", remember to look something up, other such bad excuses.

This drives me mental, breaking up the flow of these and other great articles. But I keep doing it. And doing it. Though I barely refrain from the want to kick box myself with cleats on, it just leaves me feeling defeated by the internets, and morally deflated. And printing is not the answer, cuz after working for 5 years in Canadian clearcuts planting trees, I end up loathing every paper I wantonly use.

So I reiterate: stupid interconnected webbing.

Note: For longer-term Esteyonage readers, this is very different from Musical Stockholm Syndrome, mainly because it lacks Akon's unbearably catchy beats (i still love you), but it is still a form of subjugation.

There's not the kind of denouement to this blog post that you may expect in great long form journalism. Other than I am experimenting with this site Read it Later, which is similar to another one called Instapaper. They both let you store for later, when you gots the time-oh! If you suffer from this problem too, initial tests with these products have found this relatively successful.

It should be admitted that I was - blissfully - offline the whole last week walking around in mud, sleeping on a door nailed to two planks, and other such things that I love. This likely spurred this post.

Wait. Is that a denouement?

Maybe this will be. I just want to read without fricking stopping before I go mental and/or strap on the cleats. Is that too much to ask?

Little Things

Definitely, one of my favourite "little things" about Mexico, is unknown peeps saying to you 'provecho' (enjoy your food, ou bon apetit) as you are eating, and then later returning the favour.

I mean seriously, that's just enjoyable.

More food stuff below.

Gettin' By - Tacos

Tacos Guisado in all their deliciousness.

This post is past of a series called Gettin' By that I started when I lived in Liberia, looking at how peoples make ends meet outside of statistics in the informal sector - something that really fascinates me. I have just started trying to apply this to Mexico - a totally different economy, but my current place of being.

Profession: Taco Vendor

How it Works: There’s nothing quite like falling into stereotypes. So, Getting’ By Mexico, appropriately starts off with selling tacos.

Tacos vending has a foot in all parts of the economy: registered street vendors, established taquerias (taco restaurants), illegal payouts and of course, thousands exist out of the stats: from the back of pick ups, out of houses and on makeshift plastic tables all over. There are no signs: only the smell, and the local rep.

Undoubtedly, these are among the best providers of food en el mundo. And for anyone sitting outside of Mexico, thinking “oh, yeah, I’ve had tacos, they’re alright,” you have not. Nothing outside the borders of Mexico is a taco. Fact. (small exceptions provisionally granted to pockets of California until I return to re-sample)

Tacos come in a million shapes and sizes and serve as the fuel for Mexico. In general, tacos refer to some delicious fried meat on an open corn tortilla with onion, cilantro, salsas, lime and, occasionally, other guest toppings.



Actually, Tacos Pastor, not Gyros...

...Final Product = something like this



Tacos rarely dip below the 5 peso mark, or 40 cents, no matter the vendor. You can find them costing up to 25 pesos in taquerias of fancy-pants parts of Mex City. Or 12 pesos, maximum on the streets, but for a whopper of a taquito. Though not a perfect rules, cheaper = tastier.

Tacos are a volume game. Vendors churn out thousands on the popular routes – near office buildings, metro stops, busy intersections etc. Two separate vendors parked outside downtown metro stops say they usually churn out roughly 1100 - 1400 in their 12 ish hour work days.

A few ma/pa opps on back streets in Oaxaca (near my existential crash pad) said they usually send out about 200, but only sell in the evening, from darkness to a few hours later. Others I simply didn’t have the heart to ask cuz I have literally never seen anyone eating there.

Costs hack away at this potential income. A huge amount of this is spent on product – meat ain’t cheap, and even all the toppings add up. With the exception of some of the trucks that role up and just start hawking, everyone seems to pay some kinda levy to some kind of entity for setting up shop, no matter how unofficial it may appear.

In general, the unofficial taco vendors I talked to about this say that in exchange for providing unadulterated, delectable bliss to the mouths of Mexicans, 150 pesos is a decent net for a nightime stand, per person, but can be more like 300 - 1500 Mxn ($25 - $120) for the operators of day-long shows, though I imagine there are a LOT earning significantly less, especially the young-uns often helping along. (mainly in Oaxaca City, though a few places in DF too).

Variables: I've never heard of it happening, but a lot of these places look like their propane source could easily be a block-flattener with the smallest of errors.

Also, while delicious, working with fried meats, corn torillas fried in fat and a cooler of cokes is a quick way to Mexico's largest problem: obesity, and all its side effects (pun intended, obvi). Of course, this could have the opposite effect, and make you hate tacos, and that risk should not be overlooked.

Price Point: Taking any bus in Oaxaca costs 4.50 pesos, or a bit less than 30 cents, while going to the gym costs 50 pesos.

The War Against Prohibition

First of all, who knew former Mexican President Vicente Fox had a blog? This has got me wondering about how many former heads of state have blogs. Tips on that appreciated, and props to Gancho for pointing me in that direction.

More interesting, Fox's blog post from yesterday (in Spanish, obvi) pushes the idea of drug legalization in Mexico. (Google Translator can help you out, but will offer lots of "the he what saws" et al)

"We should think about legalizing the production, distribution and sale of drugs," Fox writes. "In this sense, legalizing is not to say that drugs are good or won't harm those who consume them, this is not the idea. More so, we have to see it as a strategy to strike and break the economic structure that allows gangs to generate huge profits in their business that in turn will serve to corrupt and increase their boundaries of power."

Were it to play out cleanly, the potential benefits of implementing such ideas are enormous. It would erase a need for a war on drugs, while bringing huge revenue to Mexico (assuming regulation would come with taxation).

There are, of course, major risks in doing this, and the growing pains would be no less than excruciating: a lot of people make their money off the current status quo of an illegal drug economy.

Another major hitch in this plan is the US. No WAY anyone at present - including the O-bomb - could maneuver through that political maelstrom.

So for now, just another kick at the "how it would work" can, courtesy of Sr. Fox.

Familiar Feelings

In the same town again. The same hotel was full, so I came to the same second one. This hotel has a room - the same one. Mottled pink climbs most of the way up the wall’s height, where it changes to a white that contains enough patches of colours - mainly browns - that calling it white seems wrong. Wobbling fan noises draw attention to the purple hair ckip still stuck on its power cord. A bird still chirps outside the window. I think the same one. The same broken bus is there, with perhaps the same people hanging around under the street. And the same muggy heat refuses to be beat by the listless fan.

Yet again, tired of jarring, swerving roads and the endless game of trying to find the right people to interview, the right images and of guarding my precious few pesos. Of killing time because I have few options. Of email cafes and taco stands and nodding off and waking up in another foggy mountain town that will never have a name. Of going for a run just to shake off the “jar-jar-bangs” of potholes and topes (footnote: worker steve, c 2002) and to see straight again. And hanging out on street corners with people who just feel like rapping, and who I will never see again. And being back in this anonymous room, in an anonymous hotel where I am - conspicuously, it seems - not a member of a large Mexican family. Dilapidated pink walls, maroon door, and all my wordly possessions - that is to say a camera, a computer, a change of clothes and my surf board. All in a 6 x 12 space.

I am smiling as exhaustion finally kills me for the day.