busses and pickup trucks.
--
i´ve just arrived at the backpackers hostel in san cristobal de las casas. the past few days have really thrown me around.
Friday night- there was a cop16 finale party at the hostel across the street. it was pretty posh, complete with (probably) imported palm leaf huts! the party itself was a great time to put the last couple of weeks in frenzied perspective via dance, since it was a nice cross between all three conferences. the band playing were the latin american hippies from klimaforum, the dancers were mostly COP16/La Via Campesina youth, and Stormy and Spike from Glass Bead dropped by.
I feel so good to have worked alongside Spike and Stormy (and Joshua Tree). I haven´t completely thought this through yet, but I think that they´ve helped me find my calling (independent journalism/film media). the resistance needs a voice. roughly, my goal would be to become as cool as Brad Will without getting shot.
karyn and i wandered around with hanna (a traveler/via campesina rep from sweden) after that and crawled into bed around 2:30. i think we were both conflicted about the last two weeks- a combination of being overwhelmed with opportunities, stampeded with amazing people, and frustrated with our delegation´s group dynamics.
i said goodbye to the CCN on saturday, and hitched out to the klimaforum with Karyn. the final party was going on, so we pitched our tent in the ecovillage and spent a couple of hours dancing. amazing musicians from around the world, most of whom i had met and sung/hijacked busses/argued police with. karyn and i were inspired to start a latin american folk-punk band-- gogol bordello meets andean pan flutes.
i need to learn the pan flute.
we awoke in our tent the next morning hungry and ridiculously drenched with sweat- my sleeping bag was clinging to my body, and i had to claw open the zipper in order to breathe again.
caught a colectivo from klimaforum to playa del carmen, and from playa del carmen we hitched to Tulum. on the way over, the icebox in the fisherman´s flatbed started to leak and our butts got wet.
we met some aussie/kiwi/dominican youth delegates in tulum, and then ran into joshua tree on the beach. ate a fish. drank some beer.
karyn and walked around on the beach after that and pitched our tent behind some shrubbery. we were both anxious about leaving the next morning, so we had our first fight. we were talking the next morning and resolved our feelings before running into the sea in our underwear. the tourists were concerned.
packed up. lost my shorts. got my wallet stolen. and it was such a great morning.
karyn and i hitched and colectivo-d back to cancún airport. goodbye was weird. i´ve never had such a good travel buddy.
so many pale-faces. so much english.
you wake up in cancun, you wake up in tulum, you wake up in a different place and suddenly the places all melt together.
you get on a bus and suddenly it´s freezing cold.
i´m in san cristobal de las casas right now, and i´m glad i brought a sweater/flannel. i should have kept that other one too instead of sending it home with karyn.
i need time to piece together everything that just happened.
i miss karyn, which makes me miss my family, which makes me miss people in santa cruz and at LC.
jared, hanna, leo, anne, kevin, sophia, nicola, mama, papa, gus, lorenzo, gaby, grandma.
i´m doing well, but i miss you.
---
san cristobal de las casas!
the first thing i see when the bus pulls into downtown is a big spray-painted circle-a on a traffic sign.
yes, the walls of the city are covered in zapatista stencils, socialist slogans, and circle-a´s.
yes, i need to find the anarchists here.
i feel like i´m in the sierra nevada. there are pine trees everywhere and i can see my breath.
No comments:
Post a Comment