AUTUMN IN THE TROPICS

In the photo above, the sun is setting directly above a large white rock sitting off the coast of the small town of San Blas, here in the state of Nayarit. It is said that the rock is sacred to the natives, for whom it is a landmark on their pilgrimage. While the region is known for the mysticism and spirituality of its ancient Huichol people, I am captivated as well by the deliciousness of the Huichol brand hot sauce that comes from here.

In recent news, the heat and bugs were oppressive last night. I was willing to give so much just for a light breeze, some rain maybe, but it only got worse. We eventually gave in, leaving the circle of people sitting around the coconut which was smoking away in a bucket, and driving into town in search of a more hospitable place to socialize. Tonight should not be as bad because a thunderstorm has rolled through (and we´ve been told a hurricane is coming up through Acapulco). We managed to get some surfing in while it was raining this afternoon, but I am only around 90% after a rough night of sweating, itching, and coughing. I have been fighting a bit of a flu bug, and it got the best of me between about 4 and 7 am, when I mainly tried to read more of Don Quixote while the sun slowly came up.

A night even worse than last night ended with this sunrise, as we got off the ferry from La Paz began our drive south to Mazatlan. Deprived access to our vehicle and unwilling to spend an additional 75 bucks on a private room, the tile floor and bright flourescent lights of the ¨Muster Station,¨ or meeting area, turned into the only place to lie down. On top of the distressing news I had heard earlier about my friend, we also had to deal with the sounds of the movie Hostel 2 playing nearby. Thankfully in the corner I found a pile of old broken seats, and was able to detach a cushion to use as a headrest.
In the morning, we were managed to remain undetected by a man whom I had talked to extensively while waiting to board the ferry. He was coming back to his farm on the mainland after working construction jobs in Baja during the off season. Tough work, he said, but a better alternative to his occupation-- a drug trafficker. With five children and a wife he loved and had been married to for half his life (since he was seventeen), he had made enough money to buy the land, but only before being sent to jail for some 26 months. His philosophy on life is one of equality for all people now, and he can´t even fathom being in the drug trade now, which is involved in the murder of so many innocent people. As the conversation turned from this to the complexities of maintaining a farm, he became interested enough in me to offer a shrimp breakfast with his brother, a fisherman from the city where we would be landing in the morning. Rodrigo, as he went by, was friendly and willing to talk about all kinds of interesting things, but the combination of sketchy past and haggard feeling in the morning was enough to want to get on the road. I uploaded the picture above because I was captivated by the large banner on the left: ¨LAS DROGAS NOS DESTRUYEN¨, or ¨THE DRUGS DESTROY US¨

Driving straight through the northern section of Sinaloa, we ended up in Mazatlan in time to get some tacos, hit up a little internet, sleep a little, and get back out to walk the malecon, or coastal road for the sunset. Hundreds of people had the same plan, and we got a great intro to the biggest city we had visited thus far.

The following day we managed to climb the hill where the lighthouse rests (the highest altitude for any lighthouse in the world, apparently) and caught this great view. Closer in to the right is the old town, with its bustling streets, plaza, and cathedral, while further up the beach is the Zona Dorada, AKA Golden Zone, AKA tourist heaven.

This little piece of street art outside or hotel in the old town was not quite as tourist friendly. The artist´s choice to switch the stars on the American flag for swastikas was particularly curious. The quote from Martin Luther King is a shortened down version of this one: ¨He who passively accepts evil is as much involved in it as he who helps to perpetrate it. He who accepts evil without protesting against it is really cooperating with it. ¨ This could be a sign that our journey on the mainland could lead us to somewhat more confrontation than our peaceful passage through Baja. Stay tuned to find out.