Wrapping up my 200 buck crown today (gotta love the peso going 20:1 against the greenback) my dentist tells me she has Zika when I first reclined in her modest office chair. "Really?!?!" I said. Actually "Realmente?!?!".
Her eyes were very bloodshot and she showed me the rash all over her arms. I asked how she knew and it seems a epidemic is raging through the city right now. Despite me saying I could easily come back she said let's do it. A epidemic up here HAD to happen really..... coastal dwellers and visitors come back and forth from Oaxacas mosquito diseased ravaged coast all the time. And we have a more than healthy population of rainy season mosquitos up here in the high valleys.
My dentist, 61 like me, just works part time really. She also has a really nice B&B. When I asked her why she didn't put together a package for yankee dental tourists she just looked at me blankly. She didn't have to say "Fuck that capitalism work to the bone crap, gringo."
I told her I admired that she had even kept the appointment. She fine tuned the fit and cemented it down, lamenting that the 20:1 peso woes were jacking her up because her high tech gear all had to be paid for in dollars. Yet another reason the dethroning of the dollar as the worlds reserve currency can't come soon enough...... IMsemiHO.
It's all a trade-off, happy watermen campers..... luxuriate in bath tub waters here but swat disease laden mosquitos journeying up the beach or wear a thick rubber carapace up north in cold water but damn the disease vectors. I still maintain the best waterman locale down here is Peru and Baja since the cold current offshore and desert coast gives eternal spring weather and keeps the bugs at bay.
That and 18 pesos buys a shitkicking jolt of custom coffee at Mexicos equivalent of Starbucks...... the Italian Coffee Company. If you get it figured call the orifice.
At 5 bucks a six now that the peso has gone to 20:1 Bohemia is one of the centuries bargains. Since all indicators are flashing red that the collapse trigger has been pulled by the powers that were this week here I sit at 11 am (Sunday Sept 18, 2016) swigging a Bohemia weizen after a big stocking up trip into Oaxaca city from our country remove.
The buttmunch cynical old expat who once decried that Mexico is like someone you just fucked and they are still under you better reconsider now that the peso is sucking air badly on the world stage. Supposedly now latin americas 2nd poorest performing currency from supposedly latin americas number 2 powerhouse economy. Argentina is said to be the worst. Guess Venezuela is now just not even considered since it's almost weimar hyperinflation there now.
Anyway: we are soon to move into a little casita (tiny house) here in the campo (country) for just $120 a month. Power runs about 20 bucks a month in the place since the altiplano requires no heat or air conditioning. Well water and I may have to set up our wind gen and solar panel and dust off the deep cycle battery. Fairly good organic produce dirt cheap locally from the numerous small, indigenous communities outlying in these mountain valleys. And a (tiny) bit of silver one ounce libertads laid in since mexico has a history of realizing silver is actually money and not ridiculous paper notes we might just be OK here during the big credit seize-up. Our landlord is a borderline local mafia don and I actually like the guy and he likes me. When one of his errant sons counseled the ex-wife/mom to bring suit against him to move on some of his property he merely threatened to disappear both and bury them with his backhoe..... suit dropped.
It is what it is, aye? The last time the financial system alarm bells rang so loudly was in 2008 when Dave Zeiger and I made a last minute order from CostCo and stocked up in Sitka. It almost did go down then and now, despite dumbass QE salve, the wound is raw and infected and soon to go terminal. When it seizes up where you are is where you'll be while the big reset and shakeout (shakedown?) proceeds. I'd rather be on a steel sharpie in the Fijian out islands but so be it.
Peace be with yas in the latter part of 2016...... looking to be a barn burner and pivotal societal moment worldwide.
The kid bumbled into this campground we caretake here at 5100 feet with a box of Trisquits he'd just squeaked thru the USA-Mex border customs: each laced with a hit of what this young mental journeyer proclaimed as ultra smooth acid with profound visual elements. How he landed here in the campground, this far off the border, without mishap, is a choice mystery but he was woefully unprepared for camping or latinolandia in general so when I supplied him a tarp for his tiny tent during one of our weekly afternoon rainy season downpours he reciprocated by laying two of his prize trisquits on me later. He proudly displayed the box and its added psychedelic bouquet of dried psylocybin mushrooms he'd pulverized to powder and which looked like the usual triscuit bottom of the bag residue except a bit browner.... a seasoned young rainbow camp proslytizer.... now adrift south of the border without a clue.
So, curious about microdosing LSD, which supposedly upwardly mobile (deluded) silicon valley denizens are using to give them a competitive mental edge creatively, I pulverized one triscuit, carefully divided it into 8 sections, and wolfed one down Hunter Thompson style with a quart of beer and hunkered down for some supposedly elevated operation.
Well..... 20 years out from any experiential base comparisons it was indeed a bit of the old here and now but no profound breakthrough realizations beyond enjoying the usual dusk ball toss with the dog a bit more. I'll try it one more time though: some morning after a good nights rest with good coffee charge and no people in the campground to confuse the effects like buzzing gnats. I love our international visitors but nothing like minimizing outside sensation, much akin to a sensory deprivation tank. Maybe I can actually plot out that civil war novel about a scow blockade running, fiery, tempestuous heiress to a anarchist plantation and her old, black, ultra salty first mate.
Call the orifice for the news flash.... elusive as the green flash, bud....
It had to happen: after 4 decades jacking about in Colombia, Panama, Guatemala, Nicaragua, the Dominican Republic, Ecuador, Brazil, and dear old Mexico I finally got pick pocketed by a pro team of old ladies here in Oaxaca. I carry all my important stuff in a inner secure pocket but they got my carry wallet after craftily hemming me in in the back of the bus, causing a sudden traffic jam at the rear doors I had to (politely) push through, and the gringo alights on pavement minus his dutiful carry wallet and 40 bucks less (about 700 pesos) I carry on, older and wiser.
A long time since pros have jacked me and the inherent rage is spent like a hurricane swell against a seawall.... beautiful but effervescent and temporal. Oh well.... it's still far better than the clever thieves pillaging the USA fed economy right now.