Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Huatussi, Sinaloa


I heard someone shuffling around in the kitchen and decided to get up even though it was only 4:30 in the morning. I hadn’t gotten much sleep that night given that the weather was pretty humid and still I had wrapped myself in a blanket. Ever since I can remember I’ve never been able to fall asleep unless I was covered, and in this case it was the same. So the last few hours had become a battle with the entangling sheets and night long sweats. I couldn’t wait to get in the shower and wash away my troubled sleep. His parents had let us take up residence in the guest bedroom which housed two twin sized beds and a dresser we could use for our things. I was stoked we were to have our own room during our visit, but his mother was more cunning than she let on and made sure we would not be in the same bed. I suppose it was best, the last thing I needed was to be caught in the middle of the night with my shorts around my ankles and with their son pounding away from behind. That definitely would be something difficult to explain. I stepped out of the room and found his mother in the kitchen preparing breakfast. By the looks of it she was making huevos con chorizo and frijoles, with flour tortillas of course.
“Buenos días” I yawned.
“Buenos días, Miguel. You hungry? Want me to whip you up some breakfast?”
“I’m not really that hungry yet, thank you. But I would die for a cup of coffee. Do you have any ma’am?”
She motioned for me to take a seat in one of the white metal stools she had up against the bar that divided the kitchen from the dining room. She was quick in pulling out the coffee, sugar, and a mug from one of the many cupboards that lined the entire kitchen. She set the items before me and filled the “World’s Best Mother” mug with boiling water from a red kettle I hadn’t seen on the stove.
“Here you go, milk’s in the fridge, help yourself” she stated as she returned back to the pans on the stove.
Instant coffee is not real coffee as far as I’m concerned, but beggars can’t be choosers so I hastily prepared my coffee and watched his mother slaving away at the stove while I drank it.
“You always up this early?” I asked as I felt the hot coffee make its way into my body, waking any nerves that were still in deep slumber.
“I’m afraid so, my husband likes to go for a walk before the sun is out. So I make him his breakfast while he’s out so that he has something to eat when he gets back.”
Now that was devotion. You wouldn’t find me cooking breakfast at this time, no matter who asked me to. That’s what McDonalds is for after all, they like to see you smile, as for me I like to see you leave me the fuck alone while I sleep.
Three cups of coffee later and after her husband and Helio had joined us, we found ourselves discussing that day’s agenda. We had no solid plans, I just knew I wanted to get to know more of the area. As it would turn out, his mother wanted to go visit a friend of the family in the neighboring town of Huatussi. Helio explained to me it was a waterfront town where the main trade was fishing and supplying fresh seafood for the area. Sounded interesting enough, then again anything to get out of the house sounded interesting enough to me.
We all took turns jumping into the shower after breakfast and I found myself homesick all of a sudden. Showering alone was no fun at all. But like I mentioned before, it was just the way things had to be, at least for now. Once we were all ready we piled into our car and started the drive out to Huatussi. I was somewhat bored since the stereo was off given on account that his mother would much rather talk the whole way there. And I found myself nodding in agreement and giving my “Oh, that’s so interesting” bullshit replies to her while I puffed on my cigarettes.  
Soon enough I saw a sign stating we were arriving in Huatussi. The town was build on a mountainside and given that, we would not be able to drive the car all the way to the friend’s home. We parked the vehicle at the base of the mountain next to a crumbling church which appeared to have been yellow in color at some point, but now it was caked in salt from the sea and pigeon shit. We started our ascension on one of the many paths that wound their way up the mountain leading to the various homes. I use the word path because that is exactly what it was, a dirt path, more like an alley to be honest, littered in lose stones and trash that hitched a ride on the winds.

The homes all appeared to have sprung out of the ground one day to another much like unattended weeds as there was no particular order to them. They zig -zagged from side to side as did the alleys we walked through. I felt as we were walking through some sad, pathetic apartment complex as the homes were all but four feet apart from one another. They all however were connected to each other, like a twisted network by the multitude of wire lines with moist laundry still hanging from them. We must have decided to visit on laundry day since I noticed many a women outside on their patios wringing clothes on stones, beating the dirt right out of them. Most homes had their doors and windows wide open, to let in the breeze I’m assuming. But I was baffled as to why anybody would want THIS breeze; it was hot and stank of fish. But I suppose one becomes accustomed to the stench after living here for so long. As for me, I found the rancid odor appalling. But it seemed quite ordinary to the number of dirty, little children with tangled hair running around playing a game of Las Escondidas.

I could begin to feel the strain in my calves as we continued on our way uphill. I found myself wondering if the friend happened to live on the very peak of the mountain, knowing my luck they most likely did. Along the way we passed a tiny shop that had chips and sodas displayed for sale and a sign that let people walking by know they sold other things like Chilendrinas, Elotes, and Raspas.

"We'll come back in a bit" Helio whispered to me noticing I was eyeing the store. "They sell some Chicharrones with Chamoy that will make you orgasm!"

"You don't say? I'm overdue for an orgasm" I laughed in response while poking him in the ribs.

Finally his mother turned right on one of the intersecting paths and started climbing some steps. We had reached the friend's home, close to the top of the mountain I might add. The home was small in size like were many of it's neighbors. It was made up of giant cinder blocks painted a hot pink with lime green curtains blowing in the putrid air. Who picks out the color schemes down here I laughed internally. We were greeted at the door by an older woman named Esperanza, she was short and withered, time had not been kind to her. Her copper skin appeared to be stretched tightly over her fragile bones. She was dressed in a navy blue skirt with a white belt tied around her tiny waist and a blouse of the same white. Her auburn hair, tied up in a bun, was accented by many silver hairs that shone in the sun. But her eyes, I don't think I had seen kinder eyes before. A mesmerizing steel blue, and you could tell by them she indeed had seen plenty in her lifetime.

She greeted us all with a warm smile and invited us into her home. The front door led into a minuscule living room crowded by two green sofas and a black center table. You had to walk sideways just to squeeze through into the next room. The kitchen however was gigantic in size and I was astonished at how a room of this proportion could possibly fit in such a tiny home. Never the less, there we stood, next to a gigantic wooden table that sat twelve. The counter tops and counters were set against the back wall with a chrome stove and fridge. I could smell that Esperanza was preparing some sort of seafood in a large pot that lay on the stove.

"Do you like Ceviche? It will be ready soon" she asked me, noticing I was sniffing the air.

"Absolutely!" I lied.

Just then his mother interjected, "Helio, didn't you mention Miguel has never been to the ocean? Why don't you take him down to the docks and see what he thinks of it?"

It was true, I had never had the opportunity to visit the ocean before and I was quite excited at the chance to do so now. I turned towards Helio and I'm more than sure that my eyes said it all as he nodded in agreement.

"We're going to stop at the store first, is there anything I can get you?" I asked his mother and her friend.

"We're fine young man" Esperanza replied. "You go on down and see the ocean, it is quite beautiful this time of year."

Helio and I made our way back out of the crowded home and headed straight for the shop we had passed moments ago. The shop was dark and stuffy and we were attended by a tall, thick man dressed in blue jeans and a green, checkered shirt. He wore a brown baseball cap with the Nike logo on it that that looked two sizes too small for his swollen head. But he wore a smile that made you feel welcomed and so we proceeded to order two bags of Chicharrones with Chamoy. We devoured the treat on our way back down from the mountain. Helio wasn't lying, they were delicious! Apparently they make about 30 different kinds of Chamoy in these parts opposed to just the one kind back home.

We found ourselves at the ocean front soon enough, it was a long walk as I found out that Huatussi was a peninsula and the beach wrapped all around it. The ground was moist from the occasional wave that washed up and I found myself somewhat struggling as my feet would sink into the ground. I soon found myself fighting of the hundreds of gnats that flew around in the air, all determined to assault my face. One of the draw backs from living this close to water I suppose. But, I didn't care really, I was too busy enjoying it all. Suddenly, I didn't notice the stench of fish in the air, or just how much poverty surrounded me. For at that moment, Huatussi seemed the most beautiful place on Earth!

The water edge was lined with numerous small speed boats, all tied to wooden poles, some of which were being prepared for a ride out into the deeper waters by the locals. Out in the waters I saw more of these speed boats bobbing as the occupants hauled giant nets filled with that day's catch onto it. The sky was filled with seagulls and sandpipers soaring, and all around me men in black, rubber fishing boots were hauling bags full of shrimp. Off in the distance I could make out some mountains, deep in the water. Helio told me it was a small island which no one had set up residence on. It was still in all it's natural state, overgrown with trees and shrubs. He also mentioned that during the summer, the locals all take boats out to the island and spends days doing nothing but drinking and dancing to music next to raging bonfires. Pity we hadn't come in the summer, I would have rather enjoyed the primitive festivities. The sounds of the waves crashing onto the shore were calming and even the cries of the birds over us seemed a soothing melody.

"I could definitely see myself living here" I stated to Helio.

"Are you crazy, the fucking mosquitoes would eat us alive!"

"Oh, fuck the mosquitoes! This is what it's all about. Look around you, these people are happy. And why shouldn't they be, with this amazing view!"

"Your first day at the ocean and already you're thinking of moving here?"

"It wouldn't be a bad thing, that's for sure and besides how much could it cost to rent one of these tiny cinder block homes?" I laughed.

We continued on our walk and eventually came upon a dock. I ran out on it and sat on the edge looking out into the churning waters much like you would expect somebody in a movie to do.  I would have taken off my shoes and stuck my feet in the water if it had been higher. I took out my cigarettes and lit one.

"What are you doing?" Helio inquired.

"Unlike you, this is my first time here. I'm going to enjoy every last minute of it."

Back on the beach a midget of a man rode a bicycle with an ice chest attached to the front.

"Cerveza fria, cerveza fria" I heard him calling out.

"Is he selling beer?" I asked Helio.

"Why do you act so surprised? This is Mexico after all" was his reply.

I shot up and ran after the man, calling him to stop. Once I caught up to him I proceeded to order a six pack of Tecates that set me back 50 pesos. How convenient I thought to myself. I took the six pack and made my way back to the dock. I handed one to Helio and took one for myself before taking a seat once again.

"We best hurry, Esperanza was making Ceviche and fish fillets for us to eat" Helio stated to me while taking a swig from his beer.

"Oh, she can wait. Who knows when I'll ever have another chance to enjoy a beer and a cigarette on the beach again."

Helio sat down besides me and took my cigarette from my lips. He took a deep puff and handed it back to me. Everything was perfect in that moment. I didn't have a care in the world. I had everything I could possibly ask for just then, a man by my side, a cold beer in my hand, and that amazing view.





Monday, April 16, 2012

La Trinidad


I was startled out of my sleep as the car hit a bump on the road. I’m not sure when I dosed off exactly, but according to Helio I had been out for the last hour or so. I wiped the sleep away from my eyes and peered out the window. I realized we were in another town as I could make out buildings on the side of the road, dark blurs that sprung out from the ground. Upon asking, I learned we finally reached our destination of La Trinidad, Sinaloa. It was early the next morning, Christmas morning, during the grey hour that belongs neither to night or day, and the town was still hidden in shadows since the sun hadn’t risen yet. Helio found the dirt path that led to his parents’ home from memory as I found myself anxious to get out of the vehicle and off the never ending road.  The house was a small building laying on the corner of the street, made of bricks painted a bright Persian blue with a white iron gate surrounding the entire property. Within the gates a garden fabricated of an assortment of fruit trees and bushes that bore flowers of all colors imaginable flourished in all its savage glory. We parked in the driveway and were greeted by his mother, Ofelia. A short, dark skinned woman with Indian characteristics. Her hair was cut short, most likely to avoid having to spend hours trying to tame it as it went wild in the humidity that was common in La Trinidad. She was still dressed in a green nightgown covered in tiny pink flowers and it was evident that she hadn’t gotten much sleep, most likely due to the fact that we hadn’t arrived sooner, her face looked abnormally weary and bland since she wore no makeup. She took Helio in her arms in a tight embrace, kissing him on his forehead obviously relieved her son had made the trip safely. 
After greeting me, she ushered us into her home and directly into her kitchen where she was quick to serve us up a plate crammed full with tamales from the night before, and two cups of very much needed coffee.  I scanned my surroundings while devouring the delectable meal his mother had served us. We were in a large room that included the kitchen, dining room, and living room all with the same blue cement floor, apparently these people were fond of the color blue. The walls were painted an off white color with a variety of framed painting of saints hanging from rusted nails. The kitchen was the first room I surveyed, a small beige stove stood in the corner with a large metal pot resting on it which made the stove look all the more miniscule. Next to that there was a white metal table where the dish rack and black microwave were kept, and hiding behind the open door, stood the refrigerator covered in a variety of magnets. The entire kitchen was wrapped in light brown cupboards and there was only one window, by the sink, dressed in Pepto-Bismol pink curtains. The living room was an array of mismatch furniture including two bulging, brown couches lumpy and deformed from overuse, a wooden center table with a book tucked under one of its legs and a warped shelf where the ancient television set complete with bunny ear antennae rested. In the far corner stood a shriveling Christmas tree that I'm sure had seen better days, veiled in faded ornaments and twinkling multi-colored lights. I was snapped out of my critique of the home by Ofelia’s voice just then.

“How do you like our Rancho?” she asked in her low monotone voice.
“Oh, it’s quite beautiful, ma’am” I lied.

What else was I supposed to say? I was after all staying in her home which she opened to me, her son’s “good friend “. Don’t get me wrong, I had seen much worse than this, but I couldn’t help myself in my critique of the home. Let’s just say their home was humble for lack of a better word. But at least this way we would avoid having to pay for a hotel and after all they had internet so I wouldn’t be dying of boredom.

Upon finishing our meal, we unloaded the car and then the three of us took a seat in the living room and discussed the details of our trip, details that you, the reader, already know. Ofelia was going through the gifts we had brought them from Juarez glorifying anything that her favorite son had picked out just for her when we were startled by a loud explosion coming from outside. The lights all went out and we were left sitting in darkness.  The first thing to cross my mind was gun shots but as it turned out, it was nothing so dramatic, just a blown up transformer on a light pole outside.

“Looks like a sign I should start getting ready for church” his mother laughed. “Would you mind giving me a ride once I’m ready?”

Of course, we agreed to take her to mass, how could we say no? Once his mother had made herself decent enough for mass, we all jumped into the car and made our way over to La Iglesia De La Santisima Trinidad which stood in the middle of the tiny pueblo. Sitting in the backseat, since mother must go in the front, I observed the scenery.  The homes, all a different hue from the vast spectrum of colors, were build in front of the dirt road, the same dirt road that was rampant with stray dogs and groups of locals walking around only stopping at the corner to share that day’s juicy gossip. I noticed that the shops were already opening for business even though it was too early and Christmas morning none the less, yet there they were, lifting the heavy metal sheets that were used to secure the shops windows at night. It appeared each home came complete with an older woman to sweep the patio with brooms made of branches and to water their share of the dirt road mentioned above.  The air was filled with the sound of Roosters singing their daily melody to the sun up above and around each corner my eyes were assaulted with greenery as Mother Nature reigned here with her monstrous trees towering everywhere. La Trinidad was one of those towns where everybody knew everybody and it was evident as people on the streets would greet us as we passed, even me, an outsider.  Yes, we found ourselves in a tiny Mexican town where people would rather walk than drive, which wasn’t surprising since it would seem there were far more horses to ride than there were automobiles. The park around the corner was filled with barefooted children, all different shades of copper, climbing the rusted bars of the playground like tiny monkeys would a tree. And the market was filled with Las Comadres out to buy produce and meats for that evening’s meal and of course to complain about how lazy their husbands back home were. There was no doubt in my mind that this town was forgotten by time.

We dropped off his mother at the local church, a small adobe chapel with wooden doors covered in carvings of angels slaying demons, and were soon on our way to explore the town. When I say explore I’m referring to myself as Helio grew up here, so what I really meant to say is we were soon on our way so that Helio could give me the grand tour of the place.  In all honesty there wasn’t much to see in this forgotten corner of the world, it was after all just a simple town. But Helio assured me he would take me to the places worth visiting in the days to come, including the beach that was less than half an hour away. But none the less, I enjoyed the drive, and was amused as Helio showed me the schools he had gone to and the different places he liked to get in trouble at. It was great finally getting an image to apply to the many stories he had shared with me before, and I found myself recalling these stories, asking him if that was the ditch where he lost his virginity, or if that was the store where they found the butcher who suffered a heart attack, dead in the freezer. Things here were peaceful and the climate was amazing and it was a nice change from the bustling streets back in Juarez littered in trash and countless beggars who attacked you for whatever change you had in your pocket.
I was reminded by the sharp jabs in my stomach that lunchtime had come around and we started discussing what to grab to eat. Helio mentioned a stand in the middle of town that sold some delicious shrimp cocktails. I was surprised he even thought of seafood since the thought of it made me sick. But he mentioned he had been craving them for the longest now given that they didn’t make them the same back home so I decided to go along with the idea. I figured, what the hell, you’re in Sinaloa try something different.  We found ourselves at the stand sooner than later and we exited the car to go order some of these, according to Helio, delicious cocktails. The stand was called Mariscocos La Mora and was located on the principal street that cut through La Trinidad, the only paved road which with only two lanes, one for going and one for coming.  The stand was built in the front yard of the owner’s home and was made up of white, rusted sheets of metal surrounding a blue tiled countertop complete with a working sink. The floor surrounding the stand was cluttered with coconuts, which Helio told me grew in abundance in these parts. Apparently, the cocktails were served in hollowed coconut shells.  The establishment was surrounded by locals all waiting anxiously for their turn to order and a man of about thirty with dark, oily skin and dressed like he had stepped out of a old western movie was busy hacking away at the coconuts he picked up right off of the floor.

“You sure you want to try these?” Helio questioned me.
“What do I got to lose?” I replied. “Anyways, if I don’t like them you can just eat mine and I’ll find something else to eat.”

We proceeded to order two Mariscocos and waited patiently as the man prepared them. I was viewing in awe as the man hacked open the coconuts with a giant machete, half expecting him to lose some fingers at any moment. But he had been doing this for some time now and was an expert with the blade, no fingers in our shrimp cocktails today. Just then, I heard a man screaming down the street and turned to find a man walking in our direction yelling obscenities at nobody in particular. I could tell by the way he walked, slumped over and stumbling with one arm twisted at his side, that he was obviously mentally challenged. He wore some dirty, baggy jeans and a purple cotton t-shirt. He too was dark complected as was the norm in these parts, and had a head full of mangy, pitch black hair. Even from this distance I could see that the man was missing various teeth and whatever teeth he did possess were stained yellow and covered in decay. The owner must have seen the expression on my face because he assured me that the man was harmless and would probably just pass us by. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case, because as soon as he reached us he started babbling something I couldn’t make out, some crazy talk only he could decipher. I tried to be polite and smiled at him but this only further provoked him as he reached out with his good arm and grabbed me by my right arm. I was startled to say the least, and found myself panicking as I couldn’t tear myself away from his deadly grasp. I peered into his face, slim and birdlike with his long pointed nose and I could smell his foul breath as he proceeded to scream at me, spitting with every word.  
“Jose! Let him go!” the owner of the stand yelled at my attacker. But he either couldn’t hear him or didn’t care much for his words.  I grabbed his arm and finally managed to pull free from him jumping back and away from him but to my horror, he followed me!

“Give him some change, that’s probably what he wants” the owner of the stand called out to me. Without hesitation I reached into my pocket and pulled out whatever coins I had in there. I handed them over to him and much to my surprise he calmed down. He pocketed what I gave him and then just continued on his way.
“What the fuck was that all about” I exclaimed, never once removing my sight from the crazy incase he decided to come back.

“That was Jose, the local nut bag”
“He shouldn’t be let out on his own. That shit was fucked up! I just about shit my god damn pants!”

The three of us laughed as I realized that some locals had been viewing the whole thing.  Yet nobody had lifted a finger to do anything about it.
“My first day here and I almost lost my fucken arm over some change.” I said turning back towards Helio.

He however was laughing, at me I might add.
“What’s so god damn funny?”

“You should have seen your face!”
“Well, I’d like to see how you would have reacted. And thanks for not doing anything asshole!”

“Well, that’s over now. Now let’s eat these shrimp cocktails, you’re gonna love them!”
I couldn’t help but laugh as I realized I had queened out, pretty much like you might expect one of “us” to react to a spider.  I forgot about the ordeal soon enough as we were handed our shrimp cocktails and we took a seat at a nearby table.

“These so better be worth it punk, after what just happened.” I shot at Helio.
I dug into the coconut and was amazed at how large the shrimp were.  Helio mentioned they catch them fresh here and that’s why they were so good, no preservatives added to them like the shrimp we have back home.  I finished every last bit of it much to Helio’s amazement, and we poured back into the car.

“What do you want to do now?” Helio asked.

“I need a fucken beer. I’m still a bit worked up from earlier”
“Yes sir! One beer coming right up”

The car rattled to a start and we drove off in search of a store where we could get some beer.