L’Observateur : El Sonido del Silencio Edition

One day, I walked up the hill at around 7:30pm to get some saltines, and realized that I had not spoken to a single person that day (other than myself). But alas, one cannot purchase saltines in Mexico without speaking, and it was ruined. Then, two days later, it happened. From the time I awoke until I fell asleep, I spoke no words to anyone (but myself).

Mexicans have difficulty pronouncing my name. They say something that sounds like “Tayjor.” Juan’s wife (the one who sold me the saltines) has opted out and just calls me “T.” She will say, “de nada, T.” I have no idea what her initial is.

Last Saturday, I played atmospheric, improvisational guitar to Charlie Tomorrow’s experimental electronica performance at the bar. I think it went well.

After the bar closed at 3:30am, Charlie, Corrina, and I loaded up in their truck to drive the 300 meters to the house with the gear. We were drunk, and as we pulled the corner from the bar, I joked “don’t get pulled over!” Hilarity ensued because, of course, no one has ever been pulled over in Catorce. Then, we rolled around the corner going the wrong way on a one way in front of the police station and a cop walked up flashing his light inside the car. I rolled down the window and Corrina said to the cop, “Está bien. Vamos a la casa!” Like, “thanks for your concern, but we’re going home now, so go back to doing nothing.” And then we drove off in hysterics. Oh, Mexico.

Don Julio Reposado is now my favorite tequila.

Charlie and I have an idea for a traveling restaurant called “China Charley’s Chinese Cocina Tour,” where we drive around Mexico in drag selling ramen noodles out of the back of an old Dodge.

This blog has a handful fans here in Catorce, and they are all very good at helping me decide what to post. When Tutuwi ran under the tree in Matehuala, Trilce turned to me and said “hey, put that on your blog.” Charlie and I made a nice five-piece pedal board for the show and he said, “take a photo. you can put it on your blog.” And, the other day, after Francesco walked up in front of the house and mooned me, he said, “hey, put that on your blog.” Eh.

A very cool thing people do here is to use an old wheelbarrow as a firepit. You can put it anywhere!

A few years back, I read in National Geographic that Mexico is so mountainous that if it was flattened it would be larger than Asia.

In Spanish, the word bullebulle means "busybody" and the word honduras means “depths.”