Ever since my return to Tijuana it has become an almost nightly ritual: I am walking to my home or some other destination and I am called over by some sneering Tijuana cop on patrol. It is always the same - they roar up in their vehicle, ask were I am going, bark for my identification and before I can answer I am spread eagle against the wall with brutal hands probing my person as they start "looking for it".
The routine has become a bit excessive and quite a bore. Mu sunny outlook on TJ is starting to dim.
Tonight was no exception - after trudging through another day of mounting depression - I went to the job fair the previous day at Petco Park - aced the interview and was hired in lieu of a wiz quiz; which I did this afternoon. Thing is I smoked that weed a few days before with Mario and Saul.
Before going to bed I downed a cure of vinegar and water - recommended by the local hippie who runs the Cafe Internet I haunt. Hippies are a fountain of knowledge I have discovered.
Anyways, I am getting sidetracked - tonight I am coming out of said cafe...it is dark cold and raining...not three steps out the door and seconds after lighting a cigarette does a patrol truck race by hits the breaks; backs up with me up against their vehicle being interrogated by two hoggish cops - my glasses fogging up - but I play it cool and smooth with these characters. Eventually I am sent on my way.
In all the seven years in this country - a country that I have grown to adore - I have never experienced such an excessive harassment such as these past three weeks.
Perhaps it's time to lay tracks for other parts of the world...