Comedy in Mexico

I was having a sentimental moment in a cafe I enjoy. The waiter is deaf and the floor is a shade of cement that could use paint. Mama sits at a table and does business while the kids play with their toys. Their toys are bottle caps and two spent disposable lighters.

The scene was pleasant and comfortable. Then two guys put a table in the sand and a stool on the table. It looked like a comedy sketch in the works. They began to remove palm fronds from a large coconut tree.

Now we had a table in the sand and a stool on a table and a machete. All the elements for  a good comedy sketch. I thought about the options. Stool falls, table breaks, machete causes the comedy to become more serious.
But life does not adhere to the lines written by comic actors staging plays in their heads.
I lean back in my chair to await the hilarious conclusion of the efforts of these hapless working guys. Then my chair crumbles into dust and I hit the floor.  The guy with the machete laughs at the stupid gringo as  machete hits a branch. The branch unleashed 6 very large bats that flew into the  the face of  the guy on the stool. Women with brooms start to ineffectually swat at bats the size of wombats with wings. The guy on the stool is now on the ground and the machete flies slow motion into the bedlam.
We all dust ourselves off. Dignity disintegrated but humour clearly in good shape as the deaf waiter walks over to me and in perfect english says, "will that be all sir?." I had never heard him speak english before.

Thankfully for me there are no pictures today.

VAGABOND PICNIC: drug war

VAGABOND PICNIC: drug war

Oaxaca

At the entrance to Potchutla you pass under a dangling streetlight. I suspect that long ago an over height truck considered this street light to be an unneccesary obstacle to the proper flow of traffic. It's component parts hang from frayed wires waiting for the opportune moment to submit to the laws of rust and gravity.
Potchutla is a classic supply town. A place where you go to buy 2 miles of barbed wire, 300 kilos of rice, get your tooth pulled and try to get the hell out before the christian evangelists get you. It is a place that I suspect only exists during business hours. I would not be surprised to know that the town vanished at sunset. I am here looking for a car part. No luck with the part but lucky to get out of town early. They can't all be picture perfect mountain towns with atmospheric zocalo and trees filled with phosphorescent butterflies. No there must be the towns for utility as well. Potchutla is such a town.
I am back in Mexico.  It is a country with well known problems. I drove through Taumalipas.  The locals have taken to stopping long haul buses, removing the occupants and killing them after what I assume was an ordeal. I stopped in a town where the bodies of 177 bus passengers were found on a farm. It seemed a normal place. My next stop was Veracruz. I arrived the day the entire police force was fired. When you fire a Mexican policeman his government cheque stops but it is unlikely his gun and uniform are returned to the state.
  Even with my jaundiced eye I continue to encounter a wonderful people here. There is a saying that the mafia use to gain cooperation. "Quiere plata o quiere plomo." Would you like silver or lead. Earlier I wrote an article called "drug war" on this blog. It stands. The people who live and work endure through this difficult time. They welcome me into their homes and we fight and argue. As ever the Christian evangelists are preying on the disorder they find so convenient.
Mexican History Lesson. After the earthquake of 1968 in Mexico city many of the churches were destroyed. In the rubble it was found that the slaves the priests used to build their monuments to imperialism had stashed Mayan and Aztec icons. The natives were standing in front of the statue of the Virgin and paying homage to the Mayan god. No god is good but it is interesting that they endure.