SIN FUTURO... o lo que es lo mismo... KILL THE HIPPY INSIDE ME!!!

Out of nowhere, I find comfort in all the things I judge, the things I don’t know nor understand their way of working. I point out and claim how things should be.

We drove for half an hour from the house to a road right after the airport junction.Then we turned right on a small street with “Tiendas de Abarrotes” on each corner side, where the locals stand outside while they drink a beer to fight the heat. As we move forward a cement basketball court was looking brand new, painted in red and white; no one uses it until the sun sets because of the heat. We keep driving into the small community shops and houses along the way and a sign that lets you know that the community is as big as a street where I live, with only 310 people.
















Mango trees on a curvy, bumpy and deteriorated road; a lagoon that invites me to think I am getting closer every minute. At the end of the paved road, we make another right and drive through a yellow dirt road. It isn’t sand because the car in front of me is leaving a cloud of dust. Moving at a slow pace, I notice signs: “For Sale”, “Last Lots!!!,” “Great Opportunity;” and a couple of kids walking along a new wall that’s being built. The walls are short, maybe 2 meters high at the most and the style of the houses is similar to what is known as the Spanish style that I had seen before in Southern California. A bunch of palm trees tilting the opposite direction to that of which I am driving, which gives them motion and attitude. I feel like they are trying to stop me, like they are trying to keep me away from I don’t know what.
















It is complete, but it still feels like something is missing, like nothing is ever enough, and sometimes it is all so overwhelming that you feel guilty. How can you determine what is enough, there should be some type of formula, there should be a way to stop things from going the way they are.

Ixtapa on the left lane, Lazaro Cardenas on the right one… we take the left lane and go under a bridge. It all seems so different: the road made of hydraulic cement with no holes and the road signs are easy to see because of all the public lights lighting the way up to the main pier across Starbucks, Guess, Swatch, Gucci stores and with the 5 star hotels that own the sky with their neon signs. If you turn you get to another hotel and if you go straight you’ll get to some villas and wherever you turn you’ll bump into whether it’s a bar, restaurant, hotel or store. Ixtapa makes no sense to me. Neither does Zihuatanejo, nor this world.
















03 May 09