Hey there!
It seemed like many of you dear people liked my flow of thoughts from the 1st post (really fascinated that you actually read the whole thing!), and so I thought it might as well be a good moment to write a bit more. This time, I'll try to keep it shorter -too many things have happened and somehow writing about them all in one post might be too tiring for me and for you as well.
Let's start with this (with English subtitles):
Calle 13, Latinoamérica
More or less, that's what Latin America is all about. An incredible mixture of faces, realities (both political and social), sadness, progress, poverty, richness. And, as the heart in the video indicates, yes, it is pulsing, every corner of it. Don't think I mentioned it in my previous post: I didn't come here to settle down, above all, I came here to experience something which felt unfinished every time I had to leave Mexico and fly back to Madrid or Berlin. I might settle down here, but, hey, let's see what happens. In the meantime, you're all invited to come over and have a beer!
A funny thing someone once said about the traveler (and the notion of 'home'): "You'll never feel at home again because you've loved, lived and left parts of yourself at many places". True. And all of those places feel like home.
A guy I used to know said something interesting to me (with a dosis of terror in his eyes): "You talk with the same euphoria about sitting on a frozen deserted island in Gothenburg's archipelago in January watching the sunset as you talk about the vividness of a random market in Mexico City". He was right actually. I came to think about this as I felt random nostalgia several times during these last few days -missing the smell of the frozen sea in Sweden mixed with the smell of diesel fuel from the ferries; raw tobacco, beer and the cold of an apartment in Dublin; the smell of smoke as winter comes on the Balkans or that spring optimism when you sit outside by the Spree in Berlin, having a beer, although it's 8ºC and January. Or, more specifically, the face of a Ukrainian lady picking cabbage on an expo in Mexico (everyone from northern Serbia will know what I'm talking about):
But hey, all those nostalgias make us what we are.
Another thing that crossed my mind: some say that no matter how far you go, you'll never escape from yourself. That's absolutely true. We are always who we are. But, we can choose where we want that "all what we are" to live, and not only to live, but to thrive. The thing with cities like this, where no matter how far you look, you'll still see the city lights, is that they offer opportunities and constant challenges. New stories to be told every day, random lives crossing our paths and bringing something new; that little something we call coincidence, but, it might not just be a coincidence. One of those coincidences was someone, let's call him, Green Eyes. After one coffee, Green Eyes kept postponing his first flight to Europe (a friend's wedding) for several days so we could continue discovering that coincidence and see where it would lead. So, one day, Green Eyes and me decided to leave Mexico City for a day and discover another side of Mexico, the magical side. Let's see, the whole 'Mexico is magic' discourse was always somewhat of an eye-rolling moment for me. That's exactly why we suddenly ended up living in a 'tipi' (a big tent), in front of a rock called the Door, in a hostel run by someone called Ea, in the village of Amatlán de Quetzalcoatl, separated by a muddy road (which would turn into a muddy river from time to time). As it happens, this experience was one of the most eye-opening (and not eye-rolling) moments I'd had until now. This is how it looked like:
A tipi. €20 per night.
La Puerta (the Door). A crack in the rock (to describe it physically) that spreads all over the mountain (200m high, although it might not seem that high). According to the local Indian beliefs, the Door opens on every New Year's Eve, but only to the one who believes. After that, the person crosses over to another world, where (s)he is taught everything about how life functions and might be gone from this world for a day, a month, a year, or for the whole of eternity.
The famous and beloved Ea (the Californian running the place since 25 yrs)
Random moments:
A tree in front our 'tipi', around 40m tall. Feeling respect for it comes as something natural.
Aloe flower.
Banana flower.
Random flower(s)
The hamac (a part of the hostel area).
Breakfast.
The river. Incredibly cold. Incredibly clean. Incredibly skinny-dipping suitable.
Some parts from the going-"home" part, the town of Tepoztlán, Morelos (where Chavela Vargas lived). Funny enough, at the market we stumbled upon a lady (a singer as well) who knew a tortilla seller who'd worked at Chavela's house. Unfortunately, the day we went back, Alejandra (the tortilla lady) hadn't opened her stand (and we couldn't go and visit Chavela's house, which is not a tourist attraction). A motive to go back.
The market.
The mosaic, made entirely out of SEEDS!
The local fiesta (Green Eyes' also on the pic).
So, this is more or less what this last week has been about. Writing this is actually quite helpful -organizing thoughts and experiences. Next time I'll tell you guys more about the apartment I found, how the whole "searching for a job" moment is coming along and other things that happen around here.
Oh, and for the ones who wonder, Green Eyes took his first flight to Europe a couple of minutes ago. Exactly the same flight I took a couple of weeks ago, but the other way around, Mexico City-Paris, feeling the same enthusiasm as I did when taking the flight to his continent. Anyhow, the first chapter of a new book has been written, and we'll continue writing some new chapters, once he's back in a couple of weeks.
Love you all,
Danilo xx
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