Accepting your Time/Space Location.

I've done pretty much all I want to do here. That is, except sit around and do nothing. Sitting in cafes, taking a lot of pictures, reading a book a day. It's fantastic. I may go to a couple more museums just so I don't feel too useless. But I'm having a great time.

Speaking of, met a delightful chatty old fuck named Epidio Simeon. Claims that he lived in Mexico City as a young boy and his neighbors were Jack Kerouac and Bill Gains - gains for the unwary was the old junky tat first gave William Burroughs his first taste of heroin in New York City. Gains relocated to Mexico City - to cool off from the narcs - and eventually died there. Senor Simeon used to run errands for Gains and Kerouac. Us sitting in an outside cafe people watching, he recalled that Kerouac was reserved but liked the booze, chased as much women as he could and had his fair share of the old morphine with Gains. With a distant smile, he also mentioned that Allen Ginsberg hit on him on more than one occasion. I smiled, "Old fruits."
Earlier today, I was on a bus that was stuck in traffic. Staring out the window and watching this woman setting up an impromptu vegetable stand on some stone stairs leading into a little alley. I watched as she engaged in a Sisyphus-like struggle with these bell peppers. She would place them on the top and they'd tumble down the few steps to the ground. She'd pick them up, place them on top of the pile, and they'd bounce down once again. Watching other's misfortune has never entertained me. I don't like watching people get kicked in the groin, or get beat up by cops, or any of the other sadism that entertains a lot of people. So watching this woman struggle with her vegetables didn't please me. Except that she wasn't at all bothered by it. In the minute I watched her, she never altered the way she placed the peppers back on the pile. She never made a special effort to keep this same result from happening again and again. I guess it was just a part of her day. Neither good nor bad. It's just something she does. And she'll continue to do it. Day after day. Month after month. Year after year. She understands and has come to terms with her Time/Space location.

Fear not it isn't all corpses in Guanajuanto. Met up with Mario and joined a gang of locals and tourist in one of the many street parties that pepper this wonderful city. Went on a magical mystery tour around the windy streets of the town centre with a bunch of mariachis who serenaded our wandering street party with Mexican love songs. Unfortunately we missed the kick off where they sell little flasks of red wine but the whole spectacle was amazing and made all the more amusing by the presence of a newly wed couple on their honeymoon. She was Mexican, hammered as all out and having a ball in a totally unselfconscious way. Unfortunately her husband was wearing his pants up to his armpits and could only do the jerky robot dance. Jeff Guberberg as we fondly called him. They were very sweet though. The whole thing was free, and loads of Mexicans were doing it which is always a good litmus test of authenticity.

Mario and I finished up in the Calle de Besos (Alley of the Kisses) where a smooch on the 13th step guaranteed continued happiness between myself and himself for the next 7 years. (Thank goodness for that.) Mario did surprise me with a quick smack on the lips under the giggling eyes of a food stall vendor.

Mario and I finished off at this crazily adorned bar before walking back to the hostel to pack for Oaxaca...