I am getting sick of San Pedro. All week is work, and the restaurant is too quiet, so nothing to do. I sit on my ass while the others play pool, occassionally I smoke a J or get offered a line by one of the locals.

Paco the boss, only thinks about money and he's going crazy. I think its all the coke, one night he holds us back for an hour just to yell at us. We are getting sick of his attiude and I am ready to quit. Oscar, one of the street artisans, is now D.J, so I dont get to play whatever I want anymore either. He came in with Willy and Tony, who were with Sheree, Marianna and Abril, the girls I'd met back in Oventik at the Zapatista party.

My house is now a treehouse.



Maceo use to occupy it but he has moved out to be with his dark american beauty of a girlfriend, so I quickly snapped it up. Maceo is a master (AND FRENCH). One of the most beautiful people I have ever met. Always sure of himself, doesnt take any shit, and only talks good about others, treats everyone great, flirts, acts, jokes, sings. I look up to him an immense ammount. He likes me, he looks after me at work, and most of all gives me some sound advice about life.

"Si quieres, puedes, y si puedes, debes!" -

"If you want to, you can, and if you can, you must!"

"Nadie me llama Pendejo, Cabron si soy, pero Pendejo nunca." -

"No one calls me an imbecile, asshole yes, but imbecile never!"

"No dejes que nadie te hable asi, todos son putos."

On Sunday I go to 'Zoola' a local hostel/restaurant to watch a movie. It's not bad but not great. On my way out I have a chat with the Israelis. I have grown a dislike for them because of their attitudes (Zoola is run by Israelis)but we finally make our peace over tea and coffee. I can now understand why so many are rude and arrogant.

I thought I hated all Israelis for a while there, but now I dont. Every story has two sides to it. I grow to like them instead.

There are two types, the ones that have just finished military service and are travelling, these are usually obnoxious and rude, like arrogant gringos, and there are the travelled Israelis, who apologize for the bahviour of their compatriots. They are very strong on their views about politics and the world. I talk about Palestine with them and learn their just as biased point of view.

The Israeli girls however, are beautiful. The sort of beauty you would cut off your right foot and kill your grandmother just to spend one night with.

Great things about San Pedro are the free movies, the chocolate, the views, the lake, the calm atmosphere, the music.

Bad thing about San Pedro is, you soon get sick of it all.



Emmanuel appears on Monday while I'm on my way to work, he's the punker with the mix tapes from San Cris. He had all his stuff stolen back in the hostel and is now travelling with a Californian gal called Jenny who just got a job at Nirvana, another bar and one of Freedoms main competitors.

I often go back there after work with Angelica, (the sexy pierced italian girl). She is also a firedancer and artisan and puts on shows every second night in the Nirvana patio. We like each other but don't have much to talk about.

One night we all get pissed watching a drum show and go to the rocks afterwards to smoke and talk. One of Angelicas friends, a crazy American girl, goes swimming in the darkness and cuts herself up pretty badly on the way back up, but she doesn't realize because she's so drunk.

Emmanuel soon gets sick of San Pedro and wants to make a move, and I resolve to go with him. But we have to stall a week while Jenny makes some money, so I continue to work as well. In the meantime we climb the mountain, this is my second time. At the top we have a peace pipe and it tastes great. The sky begins to pour down rain on our return and we get soaked. My shoes are full of and covered with mud. I borrow one of Jenny's hoodies and watch a movie at D-Noz while I dry myself. Lucas is there, he's a German also working at Nirvana, we hang out.



The week is up and it's time to leave. My final night at Freedom is brilliant.

Mateo, a little French rapper who is divine light all around, and talented too, has formed a band with my housemates Julio and David called 'Ojos de Cangrejo', or 'Crabs Eyes' in English. The name is bad, but they are good. They absolutely fire the place up and the bar goes crazy. I am running around getting drinks out while dancing and singing along. I have a freestyle rap during one of the songs and two Canadian girls are impressed. I shout them a beer.

Mike and Cecilia are dancing their asses off. Maceo and Omar get up on the bar and swing off the rafters howling for more, this is the best night Freedom has had since I got there. Paco is all coked up like usual and shouting 'Freedom! Freedom! Freedom' into the microphone whenever he gets the chance. He is in a good mood however, and shouts me a glass of his finest rum, I tell him I'm leaving tomorrow, he says it's fine.

We sing and dance the night away, it is a good goodbye.

Things worked out o.k. I took Omars shit, washed the dishes, the rags, the floor, the bathroom, he was angry because I brought people back to the house for a party. But I only brought a few, and Gabriel invited people too. Anyway, the party was good. We sung reggaeton and Marianna and I sung Sublime covers. I had a mock fight with one of the girls from Melbourne, but Omar was pissed. After cleaning the house I went to the dock to talk to the lake and let off some steam, I fell asleep under the hot sun and awoke feeling like a man lost in the desert.

At work Omar and I sorted out our problems. He was teaching me, and I him, and work is good, and people are cool, and I feel O.K.

"I'm not a teacher, I am a student like you, in truth, there are no teachers".

"You gotta respect the place you're at!".

"Don't let anyone talk down to you, or they will never stop!".

They got me working my ass off, Omar has turned out to be not so nice after all, he patronizes too much. Work is fun but hectic and the pay is shit. Enough to survive but not enough to return to Mexico City.

Miguel from San Cristobal shows up in town with a girl called Cecilia, she's something, we climb the top of the mountain together, it is an agonizing two hours up. Miguel jokes that we should have taken the elvator instead, or brought a wheelchair. At the top we play guitar and sing. The birds come out to listen and show off. I am feeling elated, maybe it is the height, but I think it's more than that. A true feeling of freedom comes over me as I sing out into the infinite abyss.

Insects, butterflies and birds fly around us while we all sing together.

Gabriel wakes me up to help him make some flyers for a 'toquin' at 'El Puesto'. A toquin is a jam at a restaurant where we play Son Jarocho and earn a free meal as well as 25 quetzales each in the process. First tho we need to go out and hand some flyers. I stick some up in the allyways, posts, and windows of the pueblo and run into Marissa and Maceo who are on their way to the lake for a bath so I join them.

The water leaves me feeling fresh and renewed, it is such a beautiful lake, I find it almost hard to believe where I am, the blue of the calm waters flanked by majestic mountains and volcanoes is a hard sight to take in or comprehend. I just smile, glad to be here, dry myself with my shirt and run back to Omars for my guitar to get to El Puesto in time for the Toquin. I dont know any of the songs, but make it up and pull it off. Fluer, the french owner with the oversized beanie, gives us some pizza in return.

I have my first day at work in 'Freedom' and meet some very nice and interesting characters, like an American called Drew who likes his acid and wants to get kidnapped by narcos so he can write a book about it. Israelis are difficult customers, but overall I get the hang of the job allright. People like me and tips are forthcoming. Work finishes at one in the morning. Maceo & I go home on Pacos motorbike up the steep cobblestone streets and under the light rain. Dogs chase us and bark like crazy, one almost bites my leg.

The wooden balcony floor was more comfortable than expected. Roberta gets up first and wakes me up, we go downstairs and eat breakfast with Omar and Marissa comprising of toast with jam and coffee, a nice change from the typical eggs, beans and tortillas.

Roberta leaves early to go to work at 'El Centro Maya' where she does volunteer work with disabled kids while I laze it out and jam with Gabriel on his Jarana.



Hunger soon motivates me to make a move. I walk to town and get to know its layout. A lady in a streetcorner smiles and sells me two 'tostadas', a small tamale called a 'chuchito' and a warm rice drink all for five quetzales. I go to the dock and take some photos, watching the boats come and go. With nothing to do I'm happy to sit for hours and watch, staring at the vast inspiring view, the volcanoes, the face of the indian mountain and the soothing waters that carry hurried boats full of tourists to their next destination.





Taking a deep breath, I get up and go the Freedom bar to hang out.

Paco and Yuri (the owners of the bar) come over, and we smoke together. Marissa offers me a free drink and I happily accept. A travelling posse of three enters the bar with drums and a cute black dog, we have a chat, they are Guty and Daniel (drummers), Guadalupe (dancer and Gutys girl) and Frijol (dog), they will be performing in the bar this week and staying with Omars in the meantime. We speak about our travels, they know Candido and Soraya (the drum group I'd met in Oaxaca) and ask me for news on what they've been up to and where they'll be playing, since I was the last one to see them. I show them some fotos on my Kodak then go to the bar and talk with Gabriel and Maceo about where I can get a job.

Paco comes over as I drink my final beer. I tell him Im looking for work and I might try a bar up the street,

"See me on Monday" he says, then yells to Maceo,
"On Monday you start training this man!", Maceo nods.

I smile, have a drink and keep on chilling. Things have worked out again.

The French guy doesn't wake us up and we're an hour late. So after a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs we make a dash for the bus and arrive just in time. Reberta is pissed, and I don't exactly have enough to get me to the Guatemalan border. Luckily the hostel forgot to charge me for the previous night or I wouldn't have even had that.
At the border they almost don't let me through because I don't have my visa.

"It got stolen!" I plead.

"Bad luck"

The guard isn't the least bit concerned.



I tell him my mother is Mexican and show him a dirty copy of my birth certificate. He smiles and lets me through without charge. I sigh with relief. Roberta has to pay 210 pesos for being a foreigner and now she's doubly pissed. I change my pesos at the slowest bank on earth and get back to the bus depot just in time to leave. There is a host of buses and vans to catch in order to reach San Pedro, first from Huehuetenango to San Pablo, then at San Pablo we ride on a wagon with a german family who don't speak much spanish. They speak english however and I help translate between Roberta and them, she tells them where to go, what to do, how to get there, etc. With them are two blonde children who are having the time of their life. I decide that if I have kids, they too will travel with me.

Roberta is giddy with happiness, she had originally lived in San Pedro and was only visiting Mexico for a while so she feels like she's going back home. She points to all the places of interest, where she worked, ate, etc.



The road to San Pedro is on a descent by the side of a mountain and the view is spectacular, a giant lake flanked by volcanoes and small pueblos creating a dramatic ambience. The clouds which caress the volcanoes peaks and mountains are a rosey orange and add to the surreal beauty of the impressive and majestic scenery. It is 6 o'clock.



We finally reach San Pedro, the driver wants 5 Quetzales, The Guatemala currency,

"5 Quetzales!? Sheesh!" I grudgingly hand over the money.

We walk down the steep cobblestone mainstreet to reach the Freedom bar where Omar (my contact from Oaxaca) works. He's sitting on the bar, we walk up and say hi, but he seems nonplussed, not to worry, Roberta and I get a big 'Gallo' beer to celebrate our arrival. I only have 40 Quetzales left on me but it's beer..

"How much?"

"30 quetzales."

"Take my money!"

Omar hands us a J and we go to the couches to smoke. He allows us to stay over his house but tells us there is only floor. "Floor is great!" I happily reply. Sinuhe and his wife and daughter come into the bar, they're surprised to see me and glad. They are going to the house and we follow, it's a long trek through the labyrinthine allyways of San Pedro, I wonder how I'll ever get back! I'm tired and my backpack is getting heavier with every step but we get there just before I collapse.

We sleep on a wooden platform/balcony after meeting the gang. Julio, from Guate, Maceo from France, Marissa from Spain, and Gabriel from Veracruz. It's a good sleep.

We made it!


San Pedro Mountains

A caterpillars praise to the butterfly.

Miguel and I are the last ones up from the barnyard floor. The Zapatistas are back at their posts, so I sluggishly pull myself out of my sleeping cocoon and find Roberta outside. We get some rice drinks and cookies for breakfast then sit on the hill for hours, Roberta teaches me some Italian while watch the Zapatistas do their thing, after a while we are the only foreigners left which is nice. I'm enamored with the little girls in colourful clothes who stare at us with big curious eyes, they walk together and hold hands - four year olds looing after their six month old siblings as if they were their own. The feeling of community and family is strong.



Its time to leave so we sit outside and wait an hour for a van, Roberta worries it wont come but she soon relaxes as we play a game of throwing rocks. Back at San Cris we get some food from the markets, one of the ladies tries to rip us off with the eggs but we dont buy it, I only have five pesos on me.

"12 pesos for three eggs! That's too much!"

"They've gone up!" she yells back.

"What do you mean they've gone up!? They're eggs, not stock!"

We move on and get 6 eggs for 12 pesos at the supermarket, crazy woman. We cook a pasta feast at Casa Babylon and Roberta goes to sleep. I stay up and play guitar with Antonio, the owner, he shouts me a beer and everyone gets drunk. I pass out on one of the matresses on the floor, a French guy staying at the hostel who is also going to San Pedro will wake us up when it's time to leave.. at five a.m, what a drag, dreading the morning I got sleep with a bad headache.

Roberta & I go to the Zapatista party in "El Caracol", it's a small town up in the mountains near San Cristobal called Oventik. The van up costs us 16 pesos, I'm running out of money and feeling it. Roberta is cool, she comes from Italy and reminds me of my old friend Rachel who I dearly miss. She has a good sense of humour and a happy voice that makes me smile.



When we get into Zapatista territory we're asked to hand over our passports, and led to a shack where a group of armed and masked men interview us, we are then walked to a smaller shack where we again get interrogated and are finally cleared for entry. The scene is bizarre, the men are armed and ask us a number of questions.

"What are you doing here?"
"Um.. dunno?"

"Who are you with?"
"No one"

"What do you do?"
"Nothing"

"Nothing? Do you work, study?"
"Nope"

The Zapatistas look at each other, one of them smiles.

"Ok, you are cleared. Is there anything you want to know?"
"..."
"Er.. where's the bathroom?"



The masked Zapatistas return our I.D and let us through, we go to see what we can do, feeling disorientated and sussed out by the whole strange experience.. The scene outside is just as surreal, every man, woman and child wears a balaclava, except for the many outsiders who are there to raise awareness about various issues and help the Zapatista cause. We're also told that smoking and drinking are prohibited.

We find a dine, inside are a group of foreigners who work for NGO's (Non Governmental Organizations). They represent "Schools for Chiapas" and "G.M Food Awareness". They tell us about the appalling conditions that the indigenous Chiapas population have to live under due to economic reforms and negligence from the government, and about the worrying spread of polluted, or transgenic genetically modified corn that is now being found in Mexico. Mexico is based on corn, its food and its culture, the spread of G.M maize is a worrying trend.



"Activists say the contamination of Mexican fields with GM corn could lead to yet unknown effects on native corn varieties and ecosystems. "Corn embodies deep Mexican cultural values that should be respected and protected," said Areli Carreon, director of Greenpeace's consumer campaign in Mexico. "Most campesinos don't receive benefits from GM corn and view its presence in their native crops as a threat to their form of life."



We leave the diner and find Miguel our friend from San Cristobal outside, he's wth an argentinian girl called Victoria, introductions are made as we walk down the hill and find something to do. I join in a crayon colouring contest organized for the kids by one of the NGO's, kids surround me and watch, I put lots of effort in. I am bored! The group goes back to the diner to get some beans and tortillas and I follow, across the table I overhear two girls talking in english and call out to them. They are Abril from Mexico City and Sherry from Freemantle Australia.

"Hey Im from Australia too!" I call out.

"Where from?!" she excitedly replies.

..."Penrith" I hesitate..

"Oh no! Go the Panthers ya derro!'

We have a laugh and talk in Aussie slang, it feels good, we chat about shrooms, Nepal, Mexico, Shiva. She is a bogan hippy traveller who has been all over the world and never learnt another language than english, the sky darkens and we go out to join the party. A band plays in the main courtyard at the bottom of the towns incline and we're all soon dancing with the zapatistas. Congo lines, Kumbian, Limbo. Its all a lot of fun, and rather strange since an eighty percent of the participants remain with their balaclava well put. We have fun, native Tzlokin kids hang out with us and ask us questions about our countries then show off the little english they know, they also teach us a few words in their native language, they're all very friendly, we take photos and go back to dance.



At eleven everything stops, we are forced to leave, there isn't much left to do, there's no drinking or smoking allowed in the zone so we get some tea and coffee at the diner. Languages are shared, we buy a bag of animal cookies and play with them, figuring out what they are and pitting them against each other in mock battles. Roberta gets into it. Abril finds a spider in her coffee, Miguel orders a coffee "with two spiders please" he jokes.

We go to sleep in a large shack in the middle of town on the cold wet ground with our fellow Zapatistas. I sleep plenty.

The market is a crazy cacophony of vendors, colours, and sounds. Igael and I make our way through the labyrinthine structure to try and find a cheap feed. On the way out we run into the troupe from the previous night. Introductions are made, I meet the likeable Rafa and his dark violinist girl Marcella, Jim the guitarist and his very pretty Adrianna, and the lucidly mellow Jacob. They know Igael and Omar too. I take them to Casa Babylon and we hang out and smoke while Emmanuel continues to make his mix tapes of hardcore Mexican punk.

Rafa teaches me a song.. "Dame tus ojos.. y dame un poco de libertad..", Its soon time for them to make a buck playing music for gringos in the nearby restaurants and I follow. They make some good money and shout me dinner. We go back to the hostel and the gang stays up and chats. I meet a fun Argentinian, 'Nacho', who passes around some Matte, bitter tea to which Im soon addicted. We listen to music and talk about our travels. There is a rumour that a Zapatista party is taking place in the mountains. Roberta wants to go and so do I, we might go together. I like her vibe.

I reach San Cristobal with no food, few pesos, and nowhere to sleep. Its a little colonial city, antique, and perched on the tip of a mountain. Colourful houses and cobblestone streets create a charming atmosphere reinforced by the gorgeous churches and friendly inhabitants.



Leaving the bus depot and wondering what to do, a blonde kid runs up and asks me if i'm looking for a place to stay. I nod. He recommends 'Casa Babylon' two streets down, so I get a floor matress for the night at 35 pesos.The hostel is cozy and has a good vibe. Two shaggy looking guys roll a joint in the patio. They introduce themselves as Igael and Emmanuel. I ask for a drag.

'Tiene Perico' / 'Its got coke', Igael says,

'No problemo', I inhale deeply and taste the sweet powder burning.

Igael is from Hermosillo, and coming back from San Pedro La Laguna in Guatemala, I ask him if he knows Omar, the guy I'd briefly met in Oaxaca with Sinuhe. He laughs! Of course he knows Omar, he lived with the guy! We marvel at the coincidence (or lack thereof) and I know im in the right place.

Emmanuel chills on the bean bag and plays punk music, he's making a mix tape, he reminds me of a younger version of a friend in Australia called Easton. We hang and smoke, two guys show up with bag fulls of shrooms and go for it, drugs are everywhere, I toke on my joint and watch.

In the afternoon I meet Miguel from Switzerland, a built, blonde, blue eyes, with a mastery of Spanish and a great sense of humour, we go out at midnight for something to do and end up at a Reggae party where a funky band from Tijuana is playing. I dance freely, content. But my stomach aches, I hadn't eaten for days until this afternoon where I stuffed my stomach full of junk. Im forced to use the bathroom with no door and get strangers piss on me from the seat. It was an emergency!

Feeling better and dancing, some drinks, talk to some girls, they all love Miguel, its obvious why, we leave at two to get some sleep, on the way out a travelling troupe approaches me, they want some weed, not now, dont have any, maybe tomorrow I say, we might see each other tomorrow, all good, take care brother. Sleep.

Spectacular views of endless mountains and hills, moss covered trees, lush greenery, ancient trees, vines, cliffs, gorges and rivers. Families of eagles soar by and indigenous women with colouful clothing balance impossibly large sacks on their heads while leading playing children down the mountain. Small wooden shacks and crops litter the steep inclines of the picturesque landscape and the air becomes crisp and cold.




The ride to San Cristobal is fine.

The scene ahead is as surreal as the rest of my trip, there are dozens of men bathing in the river, they come from all over South and Central America, on their way to the U.S looking for a better life, there is fear in their eyes, and although they all seem to be doing well, not one of them in unaware that crossing the border could cost them their life, they bathe, smoke, drink, and wait for the night train to hitch a ride up through Mexico and to Tijuana.



I meet Vianey and we go to our corner, she gives me a sweet letter, we buy a lime posicle and talk. There are too many people out today, any one of them could be military, we go somewhere more quiet, a small alcove between two old houses, theres some kids playing football so we move again and go under the bridge to make out.

I walk her home, its hard to say goodbye, a final peck and our outstretched arms touch until its just our fingertips, I leave in the rain, whistling 'Que Sera Sera, Whatever will be will be..' as I go.

Life couldn't be so simple could it, of course she has a boyfriend who is in the military and leaves a big gun next to his bed, of course the town I'm in is filled with military personnel so I can't just go out on the street with her, of course we need to hide all the time, and of course its all very exciting.

When I'm not sneaking around with Vianey I hang out with Colgate and Elias, Juancho and Boody, we smoke and drink. Ixtepec reminds me of my hometown Penrith, a bunch of kids that drink beer and skate all day, like my old hangout 'the Mondo' only much bigger.



Elais invites us to check out the river. Vianey comes along, it's a long trek..



Elias says we only have to cross three rivers, but in fact we have to cross seven, in the end we reach a giant tree that gives a magnificient view of vast swamplands untouched by the cancer of man. We smoke some fat joints and head back in the darkness, we almost get lost and Elias gives us a good scare. We make it back, soaked, but in one piece.

The hammock swings, the waves crash, and the mosquitoes wont let me sleep again. Biting through my clothes, my face, my back, the soles of my feet, the itch gets worse and worse.. I finally get some sleep on a hammock in the morning but im soon woken up by the smell of breakfast.

A particularly ugly but likeable mushe called Karla takes a liking to me and rubs my arm, whispering sweet nothings into my ears, all I can do is grin and bear it.

The bus comes, we return to Ixtepec after a final swim. The waters are warm and refreshing. I sit on the bus, wet, we stop by Juchitan to get some Micheladas (beer with lemon juice, hot sauce and salt) and some fish cocktails. Mena and Ruben are with us, we take somo fotos and laugh about the Transvestite Mushes.

"What time is it?" I ask,

"Quarter to Four" answers Ruben,

"SHIT! I got a hot date at five!"

I run out to meet Vianey and get back to Ixtepec just in time. She's wearing a one piece green dress that hugs her astounding physique, we talk easily. I drop off my stuff while she waits on the street, we get some beers and find a quiet corner.

We talk about our past, her army experience, my band, we listen to music, we kiss, she's very much into it, we smoke some cigarrettes and feel each other up.

Our ride comes as a bus full of indigenous transvestites called 'Mushes'. Led by a transvestite with only one arm called Amaranta. The whole thing is too surreal for words, we hop on and wave at everyone, and head to 'Playa Cangrejo' or 'Crab Beach', imaginatively named due to the large number of cute white crabs that scuttle around at night.

Damian and Pena are going to work with them to record sexual awareness shows for Zapotec radio and these are the actors/actrisses.

Gay music plays, the Mushes clap and sing and laugh the whole ride long.

At the beach I run into Candido, Soraya, Paul and the rest of the african drummer troupe. Im glad we ran into each other since I hadnt gotten a change to properly say goodbye in Oaxaca. We talk about the coincidence or lack thereof. An old Zapotec woman is cracking on to me and its strange. We order a huge feed of fish, octopus and shrimp cocktails and beers. We talk about Oaxaca and Lobo then go swimming in the lagoon nearby.

Soraya points out a single flower sticking out of the lagoons sweet water and a fisherman promptly rips it out to keep, Soraya is pissed and lets him know, Candido just laughs and its infectious.

They play the drums and dance, I go into the ocean with my blue travel beanie and the ocean snatches it away from me. They tell me to take it as an offering to the sea, that the sea deserves it more than I do and to let it go, i agree but im still pissed. They leave to Juchitan for a party and I stay with Pena and the Mushes. I get to know them, they talk about my eyes and try to flirt with me, one of them 'Galleta' or 'Cookie', gives me a headband to wear as a gift and that cheers me up. We go and record their radio show, I hold the mic, the room is boiling hot like a sauna. Dragonflies and birds of many colours play outside. I think about Vianey.

She was the one of the prettiest girl I'd ever seen.. she was going into a clothing store while Boody and I were walking back from the water springs in the east. There was a pretty girl at the springs too but she had nothing on this one. We stopped and stared, she noticed and kept on looking, she laughed, we laughed, we walked off and thought we'd never see her again.

Walking with Boody we couldn't stop talking about this dark beauty who had noticed us, we saw her again and followed, but she dissappeared, we were convinced we'd seen a ghost. Hanging out with two of Boody's girl-friends she walked past again and sat behind us.

"Go talk to her"

"Nah, she's too pretty"

"Well at least ask her for a smoke"

"Ok!"

When I approached hey eyes lit up, she was waiting for us to say something, she didn't have anymore smokes but we could share one. We invited her to smoke a doob with us, she was more than happy to. The three of us walked to Elias's to get onebut he wasn't home. We sat and talked, she was 22 and had a career in the military but had desserted and couldnt return or she's have to go to jail for 6 months, she liked raves, and was stuck in Ixtepec with her boyfriend because she had no money to leave.

We walked back to the hangout near Juancho's house, they were going to the water springs, we'd already been but we'd go again as long as Vianey would too. She was up for it, we drank some Mezcal and took off in the darkness, singing from the back of the van to the open air and stars above us.

At the springs music was pumped out of car sound systems, Vianey showed me how to dance, everyone cheered us on, it was embarrassing but we kept going, I asked her to walk with me. By the spring we sat and talked then I took a quick dip. Sitting with her was magic, we listened to music and I asked if I could kiss her, she smiled and we kissed, then kissed some more, but it was time to leave so we got back on the van and rode back into the darkness. The wind was blowing and I was grinning.

I walked her home, she was worried we'd be seen together, we made plans to meet the day after tomorrow while her boyfriend was at work.

I played a gig at Damians party, a bunch of Sublime covers sloppily put together and rehearsed by me, Hill, and a drummer whose name I can't remember. We closed the night after Damian and Penas band and another one in which Kleiver sung some Reggaeton, It wasnt the best but went down well, my thrashy grungy solo's were particularly noted by the crowd. I meet 'Colgate', a shaggy haired kid who likes to smoke weed and wears braces, he reminds me of Stixx, we go to the river and smoke, I also meet Boody, a funny kid who likes to hang out and skate, we make plans to go to the water springs the next day.

The hottest girl at the party, 'Itzul', asks Hill for my name, I overhear that and smile. But I never see or speak to her again.

I pass out. The next morning Damian's grandmother offers me breakfast.

"Coffee, Beer, Pepsi?".

Damian tells me his cousin is passing through Ixtepec to Tuxtla and I can get a free ride. We sit at the front and drink Caguamas (like longnecks but fatter). Damians cousin shows up, he has a white van with a killer sound system. He's going to get it washed, we go with him.

The crew hops on the back and we drive down the main street with the music pumping, everyone waves and smiles, girls laugh and wink and stare, they're all gorgeous, I stare back at them all, I feel like i'm in a movie.