Mexico Dude!

First of all, a note to the parents: do not worry, I am fine, I have just been a little too busy lately to post and mail. Actually,that's not true, I am not fine, I am very good, I am in Mexico and it rules (despite a drawback I'll get to later).

Ehm, where shall I start...I'm thinking I'll go for impressionistic today, I really do not feel like a dry and boring account of my visit to Universal Studios, the trip here, what we've done so far.

Impressions then. The strange aethetic of pop culture has stayed with me lately, nickolodeon figures side by side with the terminator, street facades you realise suddenly you've seen in countless movies figuring as countless towns, and the fact that time travel dilemmas are now assumed to be common knowledge. Even here in Mexico: Che is everywhere, but then so are spiderman costumes and Mr. Incredible pinatas.

Two hours after we got to Rosarito, in true Spring Break style, we were already drunk on one dollar beers- some more than others (in true Spring Break style, Jordan threw up within a day in Rosarito)- from Arturo's cafe. So drunk, in fact, that parying didn't appeal to us that much that night, so there was just much listening to loud music, jumping on beds, and sitting in the spa for hours, even after the jets had stopped until the water was cold and we shivered running back to the room only to find out there was no more hot water to shower with. Cold in Mexico, we managed it, and this morning of course Brigid jinxed us by saying "at least it's not raining" when the promised free breakfast turned out to be cancelled, and it rained.

It rained. In Mexico. Sylvia suggested we should go to Africa and make the people there very happy.

Luckily, " at least the sun's not shining" turned out to work too a little later, and we laid by the pool in the sun. Shopping was next and the back streets reminded me of Morocco, but so commercialised, and without the smell. The smell goes, I think, when Subway's and Blockbuster move in, when in some stores you can't even pay with pesos, just with dollars. The smell goes when little kids on the street start selling you chewing gum.

Those little kids make me so sad. Dirty faces, no sense of play in them, no sense of mischief, just pleading eyes. It makes you feel guilty of being so careless and rich, of being able to go to another country just to get drunk(American girls are annoying, on the bus " like, my goal for tonight is to black out", another, in the street "Papa's and Beer is my only reason for being here", sad. The cream of the crop from the mightiest country on earth.), just because you can.

The drawback, then, I need to say something about that because it's lingering in the back of my mind all the time, even when signing at the top of my lungs, even when closing my eyes and enjoying the sun: James had no passport or California ID, just his driver's license, and apparently that's not enough to go to Mexico. Well, not enough to come back: we weren't even checked when we went across the border, but there was a very, very long line of cars waiting on the road to the other side. So, he is not here now, might be wednesday or even tomorrow but is not now, and it sucks.

I do have to say, however, that aside from this ommission the company I'm in could not be better. I'm here with Brigid, Sylvia, Maximo (whose Spanish works wonders) and Jordan, and we're having a blast.

Now, to close off with, a quote: "we really have to get fucked tonight".

Yes Brigid, sure you were talking about getting drunk.

Greetings from Rosarito!

Hedwig