Mexico
Somewhere in Mexico (don't have my map),
May 2005
Pulled into some random town near the road for some kip. It was
one of those nasty rooms all concrete no love. My neighbours were
two wheelchair bound beggars who spent most of their days sliding
around the floor reading the paper and hanging out.
Twas a nasty day. Crossed the border from Belize into Mexico.
Took me three days to get near Mexico City. I knew if I entered
I would get sucked into the city. 50kms out oil started spitting
out my left pipe. Pulled out of the semi-trailer traffic and onto
a rocky shoulder. Losing compression. Need to open up and check
it out. Need to go into city. No map. 20million people. This is
gunna suck. I have already waited over two months in total for
parts through Latin America. I pulled in and rolled around quizzing
petrol station attendants, mechanics on the road side, car yards,
and random persons on the street for the best Honda Store in Mexico
City. I found it and rolled in as they were shutting the door.
Sorted a time out for the following morning and was directed to
the nearest and cheapest accomodation.
A brothel with crap porn and pink bath tiles. The best thing is,
when it gets dirty, ya just gotta hose it out. From what I understand
minimum time for the parts I need (rings, valve guides, etc) is
2-4 weeks. Cool. Stuck once more. Damn bike.
Manouvering my way through the streetws of Mexico City you come
across licorice allsorts of people, places and environments, people
selling pigs brains, corn on the cob, hot dogs, rattlesnakes,
stolen stereos, illegal animals, pirated videos (I got most videos
before they came out in the cinemas) and the rest. There are also
the ones that choose the true path, suffering immensely for their
chosen path. This man above spent the day singing Mexican ballads
to raise money to support his two children who spent all day meandering
around his feet entertaining themselves at grasshopper height.
I laid all my money in his pouch, snapped a few shots almost shed
a tear and moved on. It was heart wrenching seeing the pain and
sorrow wafting straight out of his soulful eyes. Left me in stumped
silence for a few hours.
This was my view from the window of the Neoclassical Hostal
Virreyes where I spent my days, typing, reflecting and waiting
for my motorcycle parts. The Hostal was once the most famous Hotel
in Mexico with famous people like Rock Hudson, Barbara Rush and
Kid Azteca, gracing the building. Packed with students, actors,
musicians and artists. Awesome atmosphere, great parties and really
friendly people. And cheep.
Everyday in the Zocalo
(Second largest Main Square in the World, with one of the biggest
flags in the world at its centrepoint) something is happening.
Political, social, subliminal, criminal. The whole sha-bang.
Traditional dancing in the Zocalo. Alwaysa good vibe bouncing
around the quadrant. You could spend a week sitting in spot and
never get bored.
In Hostal Virreyes you get people who wouldn't often meet in other
capital cities. This fine gent was stuck in Mexico City for a
while. Every day coming home with new jewellery, clothing and
stories. He managed to get himself in trouble every single night.
One of his most memorable stories was..
Hooking up with a random Mexican girl and gay guy from the Hostal,
jumping in a Beetle taxi and heading to a party a little ways
out of town. Out of no-where a car rammed itself full force into
the rear end of the taxi. The taxi man freaking out, due to his
lack of insurance. The car rammed again, and again. Out of a side
alley another car rammed the side. The mexican girl was freaking
out, the gay guy had tears streaming down his face and Dan (above)
was screaming out the window telling them to f*ck off and leave
them alone. He came from a tough part of London. Newcastle lad.
The taxi wedged to a halt with a shake and jolt. Six men ran to
the Bug and tore open the door. "GET THE F*CK OUT! GET THE
F*CK OUT!". The gay guy tumbled out hands first shaking,
the girl vibrated her way out the door in shock, the taxi driver
screamed abuse and the Dan came out punching. Would have made
for an interesting scene. People get killed for much less in Mexico
City...
Their intent, to steal the car. They stole it, but not without
a few casualties thanks to Dan's swinging fists, knocking two
down before getting knocked down himself, chasing the car as they
sped away. The cops came and Dan spent the rest of the night cruising
the streets with four cop cars looking for the culprits. No result,
but for Dan, just another night on the town. I also believe Dan
stole my favourite Icebreaker
hoody. But to be fair he did give me some sunglasses, jewellery
and a beer here and there. Thems the breaks I guess.
This wonderful young Swiss lady had an amazingly beautiful and
photogenic face, so I wiled her into the sunlight for a quick
snap. One shot. Good enough.
Some of the more bizarre rituals that go on in the Zocalo. I didn't
really understand what was happening but knew it was significant.
The lady standing was almost crying. She was being washed with
the smoke spirits. I believe it was some type of cleansing ceremony.
The view from the Zocalo to the top of the tallest building in
Latin America. I can't remember the name of it though. It was
that amazing.
Ahh. The infamous Honda workshop in Mexico City. The boys from
here were so nice to me. Making me feel right at home in a far
away zone. If I paused for more than two seconds when opening
my engine, one would rush straight up to me, "What do you
need? What are you looking for? Can I help?" It was quite
overwhelming.
On the night of my Wolverine's rebirth we managed to consume many
beveridges (beer, chili, lime and tobasco in a cup), and I was
welcomed to the world of the "Huevo! (egg). This symbolic
Mexican ritual involves the A O K sign with curled fingers. It
basically means "Suck my balls" from what I could understand.
You can also do the double huevo. We spent most of the evening
performing this ancient manouvere.
The head mechanic Raul helped me out with my bike. As you can
see here by his studly pose. He is a mans man. I have no doubt
he would rate very highly on the Hot
Or Not website.
On one very bored day I took a photo of this door. I believe it
to be one of the most attractive doors I have had the pleasure
of experiencing in a long time. I stroked its metal joints for
hours. Until the owner came home and chased me down the street
with a large stick. It was a truly emotional experience.
This is how Mexican mechanics treat their bosses. You can see
here that they are very hierachical in their management approach.
There is no bonding, or equal treatment. The boss will always
be beaten regardless of the circumstance.
This is inside of a VW Beatle taxi. Awesome if you are six foot
plus as there is no front seat. These little green turtle like
machines with take you anywhere, anytime. Some of the nicest taxi
drivers I have had the pleasure to meet. If you speak spanish.
But if you don't, they'll suck ya dry.
I was sitting around for a few hours in the Museum
of Anthropology
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