Mayan Riviera Manifesto

Memory believes before knowing remembers. Believes longer than recollects, longer than knowing even wonders.                  – William Faulkner Something was sleeping. Dormant deep inside, coerced into slumber by complacency and the monotony of what is familiar. Like a river dammed by cold hands, energy diverted and devoted to things less beautiful, words cease to flow,…

México Güey

So it has been a month. And although I have only been here a month, I think I have eaten enough tacos al pastor, soaked up enough sun, spoken enough Spanish, squeezed into enough subway trains, drank enough tequila and lord knows had enough hangovers to paint a decent picture of what my first month here…

Once Upon a Time in Mexico

I found him in a bar in Mexico City.   He was hunched over a book with a creased spine.  The pages swallowed him and he refused to look away as he reached for his beer, piercing through bottle and froth to the words below.  He had the habit of folding his upper lip beneath the…

The End of the World in a Hyundai Accent

We saw the universe connected from the inside out. From the heart of a capital to the edge of a continent.  From within the stone and steel and smog, piercing the sun, slashing across dusty hills. Dust turns to dirt, cactus to trees, hills flatten and lay calm.  Maps pass between hands, wind pulls at  corners,…

The Original 9/11, Chile’s Military Coup

She was eleven, and she didn’t understand why everyone was frightened. She was eleven, and could not feel her country boiling beneath the surface.  She did not understand the old men arguing on the television, or the strikes of the businessmen.  She couldn’t see the increasing costs of food and fuel, but she could feel…

In the heat of Cartagena de Indias

The sun hung lazily, suspended in the Caribbean sky, the balconies cast intricate shadows along the narrow streets below, and they walked through water.  The air was a thick hot wetness, churned into a jelly by proximity to the waistline of the world. From the centre of the old city, streets of cobbled stone and…

I’m in trouble.

Well not really, but moving to Mexico isn’t going to be easy. It’s not moving to a new place that’s the problem, on the contrary, I couldn’t be more excited to step off that plane into the Mexican sun, no place to stay, with my entire life stuffed into a bag on my back.  It’s…