The best laid plans of mice and men

Sometimes change a fucking lot:


So, here I sit, in an internet cafe, in my mind, miles away from the school in Oventic. Kadd and I, unable to overcome the "6th grade lunchroom" dynamic of the other students, and running low on funds, among other things, have departed early to advance our trip to the next leg.

The people that live in the Caracole were great, and many of the experiences will be forever important to my life, but for now, we got all we could from the most important period of our vacation.

It should be noted however, that we were all able to bond during a brief period a few nights ago.

Let me back up abit, and talk about last Thursday. April 10th is a huge holiday for the Zapatistas, what with it being the day Emiliano Zapata was assassinated and all. There were no classes that day, however there were rehearsals for a theatre piece we had split into three groups to write, direct, and perform in the cultural part of the celebrations. We worked on this off and on between eating copious amounts of wonderfully gross, state-fair style food, and watching the never-ending basketball tournament (holy shit do Zapatistas LOVE basketball. Like up at five AM on the courts love..). Beyond the food, and b-ball, there was music, and dancing, and a loooooooooooooooooooooooooooong speech read by the buengobierno (in Castillano, and then in Tzotzil. Which seemed as though, as Kadd put it, the guy read out a list of every word in the language..) Performing in front of all those people was great. Although it was funny when I said "Todos", referring to the people, and they THOUGHT I said "Torros," not so much referring to the people......Hey, you try yelling clearly and concisely in another language while wearing a pasamantana......

They might speak in a low, slow, monotone while giving speeches, but I'll be damned if the Zapatistas don't throw down when it's time to party. As the band struck up, the kids hit the floor like they were storming a military base. And I mean tight too. What in the EE.UU. we would call,"all up in my personal space." And with a tempo fast enough, and relentless enough to break through the space time continuum, we got it on for about two hours non-stop. I do believe these people could out last any well experienced DJ night hipster, oh, about five times over. I smiled long and large enough to broadcast my missing teeth in to space.

Well you know me. The band said good night, everyone scattered, and we all went back to the dorm. This would not be enough for Captain Junior Party Monster. About ten minutes into hearing some other EE.UU. peeps play the SAME GODDAMMNED SONGS THEY PLAY ON THE SAME DAMNED GUITAR, EVERY DAMNED NIGHT!!!1111, I got out my laptop and started the dj dance party. Soon friend and foe alike were shaking their asses like the olive branch never dropped. The entire experience was climaxed by a huge teach along of, believe it or not, the Soja Boy. Yes, it's true, for world peace to really occur, all that needs to happen is for the people of all countries to come together and,"super soak that ho." A more bizarre sight was never seen.

Which brings me back to the present. After taking a cab back into San Cris, checking into a hostel, getting a fantastic night's sleep, showering and shaving, we are now ready to take this city by storm (what an un-original idea....).

After a great breakfast, I suddenly felt a huge weight lifted off of my shoulders. I feel excited to be here again. I am so lucky, so fortunate, not only to be here, but after being here for a while, to have the privilege to be able to travel here and experience this place. A privilege not afforded to many people here.

I'm excited to be here for a while, excited to go to Oaxaca, to DF, and just plain, dammned excited.

For today at least, I am happy.....