Went to Juarez yesterday. Old boy had changed. It was like once long ago you had a sexy lover - had a lot of good kicks, you separate and after a few years you meet up again and that person had degenerated into a disgusting obese slob hard on the eyes.
Well, crossed the bridge that spanned the Rio and first thing noticed the bomberos were missing (The old fire station - use to stand and watch the hot firemen play soccer) walked down Juarez Ave. military solders stood four deep AK-47 strapped to the hip on every corner - looked like Nazi occupied France. Not one taxi asked me for a lift, not one vendor called me to enter their shop - it was...weird. The streets were teeming with pedestrians - life was continuing, but, the tension was there - fear was there.
Made my way to Plaza las Armas and sat on the cathedral's steps a good two hours smoking and bombarded by millions and millions of memories. Had a lot of good kicks in this town - but, not anymore. The vibes are gone - it's just not the same. It's all moved on.
Crossed the Plaza, around the corner and sat unbearably alone in the emptiness of Bar Buen Tiempo. Sipping my caguama Sol, I recollected when this place was jumping with rentboys and the men that chased them. Now, I sat alone in the darkened bar with the bored fat waitress picking her nose, staring at the clock.
I finish my beer and cut. I buy my contact lenses and make my way stateside. Standing in the cue at customs, I think, Juarez - how sad. It has truly become like it's sister city El Paso. A dead museum.