Ode to an ugly shoe

Thank you, thank you ugly shoe.

For propping the door open.

If you were not there, the door would close.

And lock.

Forcing me to go the long way.

Aesthetics are not your forte but you serve a higher purpose.

Thank you, ugly shoe.

Things I haven't done in a while:

-Eaten a Veggie Burrito

-Surf

-Skateboard

-Hug My Mom

-Play with Schwoops

-Drink cheap American Beer

-Blaze it

-Gone to a party

-Watch TV

-Slay multiple annas.

-Drive a vehicle

Hella Gucci

God probably lives in Kuala Lumpur. Not too many places can claim that but after visiting KL for the first time, I'm a believer. The lineup was Martin, Magnus, Sauvik, Ze German and myself. To be honest, i was already predisposed to dislike Ze German. We had the magic number of travel before he joined and he didn't really add anything to the mix except lag time. We left late Friday afternoon with cash in our pockets, no plans and the open road ahead of us.

Crossing into Malaysia is like crossing into any poor country. A turnstile. 

The moment you breathe in the air, your stomach churns.  Exhaust burned my nasal passages as an infinite number of  motorcycles whizzed by on the bridge to Johor Bahru.  The smell of inadequate septic systems fills the air with that familiar sickening taste in your throat. Upon arrival in JB, we met at guy who worked for the MRT and he helped us catch a ride to the bus station. An hour later, we're sitting on a curb playing with stray cats waiting to board a bus to KL. Lag, lag and lag some more.

Sleeping on a bus is the worst.

Arriving in a foreign country at 3 AM with no plan or booked room isn't the best situation to be in. Especially when you just nodded in and out of consciousness for 5 hours and upon waking you wonder where you are. We head toward some open shops and try to assess our situation. I stop to gather my thoughts but can't think clearly because the only thing i hear is "Hey! Need a taxi?" An old man approaches us and out of repetition, we shy him away. He makes a circle around us and offers us a hostel room for the night at 12 ringgit each. About $4.

Thirty minutes later, the old man comes up to our room and tells us that a bunch of pretty girls are in the lobby. I smile. The girls are from the UK and one decides to stay up and hang out with us. I egg her on as she pokes fun at American words like elevator and trunk.

"It's a lift! And not a sidewalk. It called the pavement. And why is it a trunk? It's the boot!"

My motivational force for visiting Kuala Lumpur was to buy some gear. Or "Hella Gucci" as the Swedes put it. Petaling Street was the spot and haggling was the game. These guys working the market are professional hagglers but once you figure them out, it becomes a sport. The best part about these guys was that they knew when to stop and take NO for an answer. Unlike Bangkok. They had all the essential goods that make a good counterfeit market. Sunglasses, watches, luggage, t-shirts, bootleg DVDs, purses and every useless Kuala Lumpur souvenier you could fathom. The key to the game is to name your price and stick to your guns.

Later on in the evening, we went drunk cruising through the market trying to get high fives from every vendor. This guy came up to Magnus trying to sell him bootleg pornos. I approached him and asked for gay porn. To my surprise, he had some and we high fived as i exclaimed "Yeah!! Gay pornos!!" His face immediately wore a frown as i walked away and laughed.

Getting caught outside during a rain storm was quite an experience. Huge puddles gather in the streets as the winds shift back and forth. Magnus and i huddle toghter with some other guys against the bridge support as the wind whips around and our clothes absorb the moisture in the air. We decide to make a run for it an duck into an indian cafe for some tea while we watch the rain. I always think of listening to Feist on a rainy day. Thanks Charles.

After the rain subsided and we wandered a bit.



Imagine your grandpa.
Now add 15 years and make him asian, if he's not already.
He's wearing women's jeans.
And has a low cut shirt and small boobs.
He's dancing.
Alone.
On the busiest street corner in Chinatown.
Everyone is gawking.
..................
And he doesn't give a fuck.



By now, i'm kicking myself for not bringing my camera. What a spectacle.

I'll try to find God's house next time.

Singapore National Day

12:30 PM - My eyes open and blurry vision streams into my brain as i peer up at the ceiling.  I'm wondering how I got home last night.  Oh yeah, i jumped in a cab with Carolina and some other Swedish annas after McDonalds.  I saunter over to my desk and open up my laptop.  Am i missing anything?Where's my wallet? Where's my phone? Shit.  How much did i spend last night?

Log onto facebook and see if anyone wrote me anything.  My phone rings.  It's Dakota and he wants to grab some lunch.  I head down and the whole gang is there looking like they fell off a train in the middle of the night.  Head down to the 

canteen and grab some fruit and coffee.  Today is going to be a great day.  After exchanging stories about last night and having a few laughs, we decide that going downtown for National Day will be a good idea.  Next came the fun part.

We board the bus and Max calls us up.  We agree to meet him at the Boon Lay train station.  Next thing, everyone but Dakota and i are having McDonalds.  We get bored and start wandering the mall.  Finally after 20 minutes, we get everyone outside.  Maggie and Max need to hit the ATM.  After a while, i head over to see what's taking them.  There's a guy who's staring blankly at the machine scratching his head, about 6 people behind him and then Maggie and Max.

  After losing four pounds in water weight, Max tells us that he needs to put money on his ez-link pass.  Max, Dakota and i wait in another line while the gang is fucking around in the station.  This entire section of the story took about an hour or so.  Finally we board the train and pack in like sardines.  We get there and everyone is already getting over it.  We walk outside and follow the crowds.  Everyone who lives on the island is out and about near City Hall.  Hordes of short dark people crowd the streets and flow through like water.  We hit a roadblock when there's a ticket checkpoint. Tickets? What tickets?  For what?  We talked to some people and they told us that we could watch the show for free over by the bridge.  I look up and dark grey clouds line the horizon.  

Fuck.

I don't have anything to put my camera in if it starts raining.  

So we're standing on this bridge with tons of people on it and we can't see a thing.  Awesome.

"Where's Max?" i ponder out loud.

"Oh, he dipped out like ten minutes ago.  I guess he got over it."  said Dakota

Hmmm Typical

I glance up again and i get this really bad feeling that it's going to pour.  I yell to the others that i'm going back inside the building nearby.  Henrik decides that he wants to go too.  That was the last time that i saw the whole group.  

We hang out for a bit and i try to use the restroom but some lady starts yelling at me in Singlish.  I shrug my shoulders and smile.  Henrick spots a good place to go outside and see the show.  

Let me say one thing about Asia in general.

Lines do not exist.  You just push your way to the front of anything.  7-11, getting train seats, trying to get a urinal in the restroom, getting drinks at the bar, going up an escalator.  At first, i would get really upset when people would push me but now it's an olympic sport.

I PUSH my way through the crowd and next thing is Henrik and i standing around some stage with a bunch of stuff wrapped up in tarps and nothing happening for at least a half hour.  I start snapping away at random people and

 Henrik laughs because of my forwardness with photography.  It starts to rain a bit, so i'm between taking pictures and keeping my camera under my shirt.  People push and we push back.  A couple of helicopters fly by, the people cheer and then nothing happens.  We're both pretty bummed that we spent a half hour standing our ground against a bunch of dirty Singaporean guys so we could have exactly 45 seconds of "fun".  We cruise down a ways and end up under a bunch of trees and i'm talking with another photographer about cameras.  Everyone around me was really interested in my camera because i had found a bag and wrapped it up in it.  I poked a hole for the viewfinder and let the lens stick out.  I kept telling people that it was an underwater housing for deep sea photography.  i think that some people actually believed me.  We get bored here and head back.  There's so many people around that i'm literally swimming through the crowd.   We hole up in a spot and meet some annas (excuse me, girls) from NUS and start chatting away.  They start telling us how their school is better.  Immediately, they lose points cause they were being serious.  The fireworks start going off and i keep bumping into some guy while taking pictures and he keeps turning around and looking at me in disgust.  I smile to myself and chuckle a bit.  Fun's over.

This crowd, this living breathing entity started to get wild.  First, people began to boo when people started to leave right after the show.  Henrick looks at me and makes that face that says "we should leave."  People didn't go crazy or riot or anything like that.  But when you have that many people trying to get somewhere at one time, things start to get out of hand.  Luckily, there's police presence to keep things in order.  We started to head through a corridor when it backed up and people began to flood out into the parking garage through a small door.  We head out and start walking up some ramp to the street.  After we hit the top, i look left and see a bunch of people standing behind a barricade with a cop standing there holding them back.  This large group that we're a part of is walking in the middle of an empty street that was previously closed down.  People start shuffling together as we reach the MRT station.  We're standing shoulder to shoulder and this is when the pushing match really began.  We decide to hang tight and grab some food before heading home to avoid the crowded trains.  We go down a huge escalator, turn around and head up to go around a barricade and enter the mall.  We head straight for the food court and start looking for a table with trays in hand. We spot two seats near a couple and cruise over.  Just as we get there, some guy walks up and asks the couple if they could sit there.  Henrik and i look at each other and plop down at the table, ignoring the other guy.  He grimaces and i mutter "that's right, bitch"  in my most macho murmur available.  We smile at each other and enjoy our cold food.  There is no such thing as heat lamps in Singapore.  Any food that you get where you point and build a plate will be cold.  No exceptions.  

After food, we wander the mall 

and spot a crazy fountain that makes 

shapes and such with flowing water.  I tried to capture the word "Singapore" but it didn't come out quite as i wanted.

 

After the madness had settled down, we jumped on the train and caught the bus back to campus.  My feet hurt. 

Time for bed. 

P.S. In your face Dakota.  My day was better than yours. 

Bangkok and Koh Samed

Real spit......Bangkok is dirty. There are dying dogs laying all over, street vendors selling food you have never heard of, traffic that makes LA look pleasant, pollution you can taste and the most aggressive salesmen on the planet.  Oh yeah, and more dying dogs.

We holed up in a sketchy little spot near Khao San, which is the tourist trap of tourist traps.  The entire street is lined with people trying to sell counterfeit goods and useless "Thailand" crap.  Every step you take, another guy is walking up to you trying to fit you for a suit or to get you to buy some t-shirt.  They will always ask "where you from?" and try to sweet talk you into opening your wallet for them.

The people of Bangkok can be categorized by their trade.  There are the Arabs who hang out in front of tailor shops and try to get you to "just come in and take a look".  There are the annoying Burmese women who wear all sorts products and carry a trunk full of gifts.  They all have these wooden frogs that make a croaking sound when you rub a stick on the back of them.  They persistently come up to people dining on the street and push their products on them over and over in a futile attempt to make 100 baht.  I thought that these women were so amusing in their annoying-ness,

that i began to test their boiling points.   First I tried to sell them my passport and barter with cigarettes.  Next i would try to hug them

 and they would just stand there wearing a disgusted look.  Needless to say, they were my favorite street people.  

(See enclosed drawing done by me.)

Next are old blind people.  You can find them roaming the streets in pairs singing karaoke into cheap electronics collecting donations as they shuffle down the street.  They 

walk ridiculously slow and just sing their heart out to over dubbed Backstreet Boys tracks.  The best part is that they look like they just woke up in a tomb after 10 years of torture.

Then there are the Tuk-Tuk drivers who will swindle you at any chance they get. They offer cheap transportation around the city and will wait for you at temples while you look around.  The catch is that in between taking you to places that you want to go, they take you to places that they want to go.  There a a dozen shops in town which give gas coupons to Tuk-Tuk drivers if they bring tourists to their overpriced shops.  In a single trip, we went to four temples and  five shops that he made us go to, then our driver dumped us off at MBK, which is basically an organized Khao San in a single building.  

In MBK, you will find a startling number of electronic stores and gift shops that would make even the most experienced shopper want to go home.  There is constant chatter and yelling emitting from every shop and glass cases line their borders full of digital cameras, ipods, cell phones all out of box wrapped in cellophane.  These professional hagglers will coax you into "just looking" while they stand there and pressure you into a purchase.  

A couple of days in Bangkok is all anyone needs.

Let me tell you about the king of thailand.  HE IS GOD.  In all seriousness, the people of thailand worship the king. Apparently, he's done all sorts of philanthropic acts for the country for as long as anyone can remember.  They like him so much that:

-There are pictures of him in every household and every shop at the highest point possible.

-There are pictures of him at every major intersection with gold bridges.

-The only way to get in trouble in thailand without being a complete fuckhead is to   badmouth the king.

-They play the national anthem to a montage of photos of the king before every movie showing.

-He was born on a Monday and every Monday you can

  see hordes of people wearing the king's color on his day. (Yellow)

So after we spent a few days in Bangkok,  Dakota finally got a hold of his buddy who had spent 8 months on internship there.  We met up with him and his thai girlfriend at a McDonald's in Khao San.  That night he took us to Pat Pong market, which is the home of the fabled "Ping Pong show."  As soon as we got there, we were bombarded by even more aggressive guys trying to get us to see the show.  I had wanted to see the show for the sake of having done it but with a 500 baht price tag, it didn't seem worth it anymore.  Finally after chasing us 20 meters, we all agreed that we would "take a look" and stay if we liked it.  

We sauntered up the stairs with the guy pushing us along trying to get us to be less adamant about the situation.  We hit the top and i looked left.  Through the clouds of cigarette smoke and blacklights, i saw a group of women standing bottomless on a stage.  There was one woman laying on her back with her knees bent and a cigarette in hand.  With my own eyes, i witnessed her put the cigarette to her vagina, draw smoke and exhale a cloud of dirty tobacco smoke that dissipated into the air.  Right then and there i decided that i had seen enough.  I tried to turn around to leave but a scantily dressed prostitute took my hand and patted a seat hoping that i would join her.  Immediately my fight or flight sensor went off.  I chose flight.  

The next day, Dakota and I jumped into a cab and gave him the directions to Steve's place which was off of Thong Lor or the "Beverly Hills of Bangkok." 

 Our driver immediately began to entertain us by driver exceptionally crazy and making animal noises at every girl we passed.

  I whipped out my camera and started to shoot the city as we rode through.  He got excited and told me to take a picture of him and make him famous.......So here it is.

After we hit Steve's and dropped off everything we didn't need, we headed to the bus station.  Four hours, two restroom breaks 

and a bus ride that stopped every kilometer we were dropped off in a sleepy port town that smelled of dead

animals and exhaust.  We jumped on a ferry and headed to the island.  This place was the most beautiful place i have ever been to.  Perfect sand, $6 massages, cheap booze and food everywhere.  The only thing that would make this place heaven was surf. 

 

The sand is so fine grained that it 

would squeak as you walked through. 

At this point our crew consisted of 

Steve, Ida, Mike, Dakota and myself.  

It was perfect because Steve knew the 

land, Ida knew the language and Mike

provided the entertainment. Before 

we headed out to grab dinner the first

night, Steve told us he had a surprise. 

We followed him into his room and 

he fumbled around until he took out 

a huge bag of what looked like 

dead plants and dirt.  

"What the fuck is that?" i asked.

"It's weed."

"Really?"

"It's a different strain of weed. I guarantee that you have never smoked this kind before. Your

body's not used to it."

"Huh"

"Yeah, it doesn't smell or taste like weed but this shit WILL get you high."

.................

And it did.

While we sat in lounge chairs, beers in hand watching the sun set. A girl walked by and we all 

followed her turning our heads in unison.

"Holy shit!" said Mike. 

"We're in a Corona commercial!"

and we all laughed.

We spent the next couple of days eating and drinking in abundance while our wallets slowly 

became flatter and flatter. Right before we got on the bus, we decided that the ride home 

would be more interesting if we inhaled smoke prior to boarding. I spent the next couple of 

hours sitting and wondering why the guy next to me kept trying to sleep on me. I woke him 

up and offered him some cheese crackers to eat. We got back to Steve's place grabbed our 

luggage and headed to a place called "Big John's Hostel". This place was the hooptiest place 

i had ever been to. As he handed us the room key, Big John told us that a girl staying there 

just had her laptop and camera stolen. He smiled as we walked out the door. Communal 

showers and cockroaches crawling, we found our room and settled a bit. The entire floor felt 

strange like something was slightly off. It was only when i realized that the whole floor was 

slanted. Instead of making proper drains for the showers, they built the floor on an angle so 

water would run into one corner solving their problem. Obviously the best solution. Few 

more days in the rotten city and we jumped in a cab and waved goodbye to the street people of

Bangkok. Until we meet again!

Tokyo Rundown

Tokyo is a machine.  The city itself breathes with a perfect breath.  The subway system is unrivaled with 9 metro lines, 4 toei lines and a JR train that together blanket the city in a gnarled mess that leaves nothing within tokyo less than a kilometer away.  Any other ground to cover is usually done by bike.  There are millions of bikes in the city and not a single one has a lock.  Tokyo is best thought of a many cities that grew together because the different downtown areas all have such different vibes.  The first spot we hit was the Ginza district.  There, Dakota found a fresh food market in which he became infatuated with.  The best part of a market like that is the ease of getting common food.  Although Tokyo is pretty tourist friendly, there is much  difficulty getting any kind of menus in english or at least with pictures.  Many a time, we would sit down at a place, grab menu and point to the second least expensive item and smile as the waiter would take our order.  Ten minutes later, the waiter would bring back cold noodles and soy sauce with a small piece of fish in some smelly sauce.  Delicious.  

After spending some time in the  Ginza area, we hopped on the train and walked amongst the financial district towers looming over

 the streets.  Many common brand names like Toshiba and Sony adorned these buildings which stood so high.  The one obvious thing about the city is the lack of public trash cans.  It's a bit strange because despite the lack of trash cans, no one litters.  Next spot was the Harajuku district.  

After years of wearing conservative school uniforms, these kids are reacting by wearing the most ridiculous gear possible.  They all dress so differently that it would be impossible to pinpoint exactly what they wear.  There are obvious influences like the punker kids, the goths, the little girl style, the crazy hair kids, the rockabilly kids.  All the different kids just wear the clothes without a care for any of the meaning behind it.  It's beyond anything i have ever seen.  

Dakota and i saw a harajuku bazaar and dropped in to check it out. 

 The seven story shop teemed with life.  There were harajuku girls screaming sales pitches at every shop. The sights and sounds in this place were too much for two Americans to handle.  It was absolute madness.  We proceeded up and we were met by the same thing on every floor.            

Ridiculous kids selling ridiculous clothes to other ridiculous kids.  What a world this is.  

A few days later we decided to go to Yoyogi park which borders the Harajuku district because on Sundays the park is supposed to go off. 

 Wherever i heard or read that was dead on.   There were street performers of all kinds.  The most memorable were these five rockabilly guys who were dancing in leather and boots.  The leader wore a white leather jacket with no shirt underneath and pranced around like a rooster among chickens.  

We walked on and  saw a few local bands playing on the sidewalk no more than fifty feet from each other.  There were all battling for the passing youth's attention.  Soon after, we stumbled upon a drum circle.  An old man was drumming  smiling a tooth-less

grin as the women danced in a wild frenzy.  The next stop

 was a young guy who had set up a wearable dj outfit in which he simultaneously danced, dj'ed, 

and painted.   If there was one standup thing about this kid, it was this.  He had passion.  You could see the fire in his eyes and it glowed outward and shined on the crowd.  He would play a beat and jump around a bit as he made smooth brush strokes on the canvas.  He would stop the music and face the crowd, scratch a bit and resume the music to start over again.  Other notable acts were the jumprope breakdancing crew and Sapporo Man.  Sapporo Man was this really queer man in a white suit and yellow rain boots.  His performance was that he would pose for a moment and strange noises would erupt from his mouth.  Nothing too exciting.  

For the remaining days in Tokyo, we stuck around the Taito-ku district and saw the markets and temples of the area.  I drank from the public bath and bathed in the incense smoke that bellowed from the altar.  I threw a few hundred yen in the collection box and snapped a few shots of an odd looking fellow.  Just across the street, there was a woman who had trained a monkey to do tricks.  He caught small rings and walked on little monkey stilts.   His finale trick was jumping through a hoop held almost shoulder high on the woman.  

After we packed our things and got ready to go, we headed to the train station with three hours to spare.  As we jumped our our longest and final train to Narita Airport, it soon became apparent that we weren't going to make it on time.  Our train was stopping at every public stop and we had 40 minutes and 17 more stations to go.  I scanned the train and saw a black guy speaking with a Japanese guy in the corner.  He explained what we did wrong and advised us to get off on the next stop.  We boarded the right train and went straight through customs and got our boarding passes.  We had ten minutes to get through immigration.  I spotted some white kids and asked them to cut.  They let us in and i humored them with the usual "where are you from" bullshit.  We got on the plane to Thailand and Dakota let out a cheer.

Finding Our Tokyo Hostel

I'm going to cut a lot of bullshit and say that the plane ride to Tokyo is not as bad as I thought it was going to be.  However, eleven hours of being confined to a small seat watching Drillbit Taylor in Japanese subtitles is not my favorite way to party.   As soon as we exited the plane, something in the air felt different.  About 85% different.  The humidity in Asia is beyond anything that I have ever experienced.  It affects every little thing and just nags at your body.  Your pants start to stick to your legs, your shirt clings to your back, even your brain thinks differently in such weather.  

As much as I tried to read up on Japan, nothing could have prepared me for the sights and sounds of Tokyo on that Friday night.  After Dakota and I boarded the Kesei Line leaving the airport, it just so happened that the guys next to us were going to the same hostel.  They were both older men from India there on business.  I glanced at one of their suitcase tags and it read " Dr. Abhijat Sarin"  I glanced at them and thought that these guys are probably the recipients of outsourced American  jobs.  I smiled and laughed to myself.  We headed out of the train at Minowa station and made it outside when suddenly an old man fell down while riding his bike.  When i say old man, I'm talking really old.  An American his age would have been taken away on a stretcher after a fall like that.  He just got up, dusted himself off and kept on cruising along without a problem.  Immediately Dr. Sarin and his colleague began asking every person every fifteen feet where our hostel was.  We had some guy call the place, some bum try to lead us there, and another guy who got really excited that we were from San Diego.  So after about half an hour of this we start getting close when one of the guys who helped us rides by and starts pointing in a direction.  Sarin is busy asking a delivery boy and doesn't see him.  He rides away and then comes back and starts yelling at us to follow his directions.  We get to the room and it's even hotter and more humid than outside.  After some ice cold showers and a quick change, we were out to check out the streets of the Taito-Ku district.  After visiting some of the other Tokyo spots, i'm pretty sure that Taito-Ku might be one of the ghetto-er districts.  After wandering around aimlessly for a bit, we run into these 17 year old French kids harassing a Japanese officer.  They were jumping around him and making monkey noises while he was standing there doing nothing.  Next, one of the kids started running alongside a moped.  The driver got mad and swerved to try to hit him but missed.  Next thing we knew some police officers showed up on bikes after they got a call.  Dakota and I promptly left the scene.  We ended up in some sports bar that was really big on Zima and darts.  Kinda strange.  

Anyways the funniest thing that happened was while Dakota was chugging a beer in street.  He had just finished downing it and walked over to a trash can by some guy when all of a sudden he farted really loud.  I don't think that words could do any justice to how gross/hilarious it was.  I mean, it was probably the loudest fart i have ever heard and the guy did it so nonchalantly that he just kept walking away while we were uncontrollably laughing.

Pretty much, we made it back but realized that we had only eaten chips and beer the whole night.  Awesome first day outside the country.

Border Town

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.

Fanatics

  These religious fanatics are a dime a dozen at SDSU.  It seems that at least once a month, there is someone standing around with a sign shouting that God hates everyone because SDSU students are all sinners.  If you read his sign carefully you will see that he has got all his bases covered on who is going to hell.  He's got all other religions, sexually immoral people, Atheists, socially immoral people and the last set is dedicated to college students. He would pace back and forth with his sign and tell everyone that God hates them.   He would make jokes and point to the "mouthy women" bit every time a girl walked up to challenge him.  After about an hour of listening to this guy, Jackie from Ross decided to give her own rendition of what the bible means.  Soon she took center stage and started talking about artificial flavorings causing sin.  It was really hard to concentrate on what she was saying because she had really bad teeth and i couldn't shake the thought of her biting my neck like a vampire would.  Every five minutes or so, the guy with the sign would shout "I'm not with her!" Next another guy from the crowd started preaching the same shit that Jackie was.  He produced his portable new testament from his coat pocket and started reading John 3:16 out loud.  Suddenly Mr. Sign yelled "Loved!!! God so LOVED the world!  Past tense!!! Everyone is going to hell!"   

Next the crowd started chanting for the sign guy to start preaching again.  Now i felt like i was watching Springer on television.  He yelled at Jackie saying that she stole his legs and that he's going to take back what's his.  (The crowds attention)

After mouthing off to the crowd and getting everyone including myself mad at him.  He started calling people out from the crowd and motioning for them to meet him face to face.  People talked their shit but no one dared to meet him on the stage.  Suddenly the crowd erupted in a cheers, I scanned around to see what was going on.  Two chicks walking by had started making out on stage and Jackie was trying to hide their actions by creating a diversion.  

Next thing i know there's a guy who decides that he's had enough and walks out in the open, gets on his knees and starts to pray.  Some girl in a wheelchair rolls up an decides to pray too.  By now the crowd is going fucking nuts.  Mr. Sign is still yelling at random girls, Jackie is trying to calm everyone down and started dancing and then there's these two people in silent prayer.  Only God knows what they were praying about.  My soul? By now i'm looking at the clock and i've got class in five minutes.  I try to wait it out to see if anything else is going to go down.  

........

........

........

Nothing.  Time for class.

This guy??

I'm not going to say who this is.  But i am going to say that my roommate idolizes him.  He literally walks around the house chanting his name and swearing that he's the "dopest fool alive."  Seriously?  If you read about him anywhere you'll see that all he cares about is skateboarding, girls, smoking weed and partying.

damn, maybe he isn't such a bad role model.