Tecate is basically an arrid village with a fence dividing it from a Payless and a sandwich shop. Many people venture into Tijuana thinking that they found true Mexican spirit. A life filled with stray dogs, cheap food and begging mothers outside a strip bar, but Tecate has a different vibe coursing through its blood. There are paved roads crossing throughout the city but you don't need to look far to find a dirt path. There are established tiendas pullulating with venders and there are day markets that pop up in dirt lots. The people there are friendly with a quiet understanding of the joys of living a simple life. Life is slow and many people seem to wander the streets with no apparent destination.
Ciro said that the easiest way to see the city is to park and walk across the border. Getting in is as simple as walking through a turnstile and suddenly you find yourself on the sidewalk near an OXXO and a taco shop. After heading south for a while, a man walking by and asked Ciro for some spare change. Ciro handed him a few dirty coins and the man looked me in the face. I smiled and immediately motioned that he owed us a picture. As i prepared to take a picture he stood solemnly with an expressionless face. I snapped the foto and thanked him as we went on our way.
Cruising around Tecate on foot was definitely the right choice. We walked through an alley and headed across a dry river bed to watch some kids play in a pick up game of futbol. Within minutes, someone had broken their ankle and an ambulance had showed up with a stretcher. Ciro chatted it up with an old passerby as the EMTs hoisted the kid up into the vehicle. The crowd was chanting "sí se puede" as the ambulance drove away. We walked along a baseball stadium that stood vivid in the dusty town. Bright blue and yellow with government slogans painted on it's walls. After some wandering we stumbled into a little juice bar to escape the heat. Ciro ordered two Clamatos with shrimp and crab. I was parched and the moment the liquid hit my lips i realized that this drink was as salty as the sea. I put it down and asked him how he could drink something so brackish. "You need a lot of salt when you live in this climate," said Ciro as he finished his drink and motioned for me to hand him my mine. I scraped the bottom to grab a piece of shrimp before I gave it to him as we headed out the door. He mentioned that he really wanted to show me the makeshift village just outside of the town. So we were on our way.
Before we got there we took a shortcut through an open market in a building. There were an overwhelming amount of bootleg dvd vendors along with many people selling knockoff Nikez and Adidos. Before the vendors could convince us to buy something, we had escaped out the back door and onto a dirt path along a dirty creek with a small amount of water streaming through it. We traversed through the narrow path and crossed a bridge to see rows of buildings built from discarded materials. One nearby building had caved in on itself and lay in shambles. A few hundred feet in there was a small building that looked a little more solid and was uniform in color. On it's pinnacle was a small wire cross that you could barely make out against the bright sky.
"When you've got nothing, you need to have something to believe in and keep you going."
Ciro motioned for me to follow him into the dull town. As we passed along a few buildings, i felt the burning stare of those living in the shanties. As I assessed the situation, i became aware that I was feeling very uncomfortable. I looked down and saw my month old Vans. I put my hands in the pockets of my Volcom jeans and felt the softness of my t-shirt. In my hand, i was clutching a camera that was worth more money than many of those people might see in a decade. I came to dead halt.
"Let's go back Ciro."
"Why? Everything allright?"
"No man. I don't feel right here. Let's leave."
As we left, i explained to him that seeing the way that these people live and then just coming in to prod and explore didn't feel right to me. It hit me like a freight train and left me affected for the rest of the day. It wasn't the first time that i had seen things like this before but for some reason i was shellshocked by the overwhelming sights and sounds of these people's poor existence.
Ciro miró a su reloj y me dijo eran las tres y media.
I had work at 5:30 and we still had an hour drive back to San Diego. We made a beeline for Ciro's place to shower but quickly got sidetracked by a small market and started to poke around at all the small trinkets that they offered. I thought about buying un helado but my stomach grumbled and told me that i needed real food first. We finally made it back to Ciro's one bedroom and took cold showers. As soon as the water hit my body, i saw a dark swirl form around the drain and then disappear. His place was three blocks from the border. We headed out and stopped at a taco shop along the way. I ordered three fish tacos and sat down. A few minutes later, Ciro shows up at the table with a tray of tacos and smiles as he sits down. He hands me my tacos and I survey his plate. I ask him what he got. He points and says " This one is stingray, this one is turtle, this one is fish and this last one is octopus." Hastily down the hatch and on foot to the border crossing. Through a winding path and into a building where two assholes with mustaches are sitting down checking IDs. I start snapping pictures and Ciro grabs me and points to a NO PHOTOGRAPHY sign. We get to the head of the line and i hand him my passport and smile.
"It's good to back," I said.
