Ensenada

Josh and I have been in Ensenada for just over a week now. Although we have had some adventures, a lot of this time has been spent resting up, watching movies, and generally being lazy. Ana's house is up in the hills on the outskirts of town, and she is rarely around. After a month of biking, camping, and staying at wacky punk houses, it's nice to have a quiet place to relax.

But we have been out and about a bit. On one of our first days, we biked into town to check it out. On our way, we met a guy named Bestia (Beast) who was on his way to go busk. Unlike the states, the best way to make money here is to work an intersection. He and Josh traded off stoplights and made a fair amount of cash for only working about 20 minutes.

Afterwards, Bestia took us on a tour of Ensenada. First, he took us to the center of town to meet his friends, the local street kids. His friend Montagne showed me how to make beautiful little flowers out of aluminum cans to pedel to people in parks. Although less lucrative than busking, this skill has allowed me to make a little spending money over the last few days. After relaxing in the park and getting to know each other a bit, Bestia took us to Las Globos, the market area.

On a side note, it seemed Josh had met his match for dumpstering and over eating. The hours that we walked together were largely spent digging through trash for food and soliciting stands for leftovers. Even when we were stuffed, Bestia continued to dig and eat plate after plate of food. The dumpster tour was much appreciated, although it became a little excessive after a while.

At Las Globos, we managed to accumulate a huge box of fruits and vegetables that would feed us over the next week up at Ana's. This was a huge relief after being told time and time again how difficult being freegan in Mexico would be. Maybe it's still easy because we're still near the border, or maybe it's just that where there are tourists there is always wastefulness.

After Las Globos, we walked all the way back downtown to meet Bestia's friends again. They told us about their squat, "El Trailer," and insisted that we come check it out. However, that night we didn't bring our sleeping bags and Ana came to pick us up and return to her house.

Although we spent more time with the trailer kids throughout the week, it wasn't until two nights ago that we actually stayed there. A few strange things happened that night. We met the gang downtown late in the afternoon. It was the second night of Carnival, so the streets were all blocked off and loaded with games, food vendors, and tons of alcoholic beverages. Our friends were at their usual spot selling aluminum can flowers and drinking cheap agave liqour.

In a horrifying display of authority, a parade of thousands of cops took the streets of the carnival. Throughout the evening, they stopped by our group a few times to hassal people. Most of their comments were aggravating but harmless: "It is illegal to have those piercings/that stupid mustache, etc," but mostly they would make some snarky remarks and then leave. Around midnight, one friend took out his camera for a photo as a group of cops were passing by. For seemingly no reason at all, one cop tackled him to the ground and started beating him. A few people asked what he had done wrong and were promptly tackled and beaten too. Bloody and battered, the four were handcuffed and taken to jail for the night. What the fuck? I was shocked and disgusted. Bestia told us that this sort of thing happened all the time and that they would be released in the morning. With all the warnings of gangs and bandits in Mexico, it was the police who were most violent.

After the chaos, the group disbanded. Josh and I headed on bike for the trailer, which turned out to be pretty far into the outskirts of town. We received very detailed directions to the area where it was, but on a block of trailer after trailer, we had no idea which one was "the" trailer. After nearly an hour of wandering in circles in the dark and knocking on a random guys door, we were finally pointed to the right lot.

The trailer was slightly disappointing. It was basically just a crash spot for 12 punks to squeeze into. After spending nearly a year in Oakland helping out with fixing up and establish long term free housing, I guess we were expeting a little more from a spot that had been inhabited for several years. The fairly large lot was overgrown and unmaintained. The bathroom was a small building with a bathtub full of shit. Most of the kids just went there to crash at night and then left for town early the next morning. It seems the revolving door of travellers inhibited any long term projects, and the distance from downtown didn't make it an ideal spot to spend a lot of time.

The next morning, after hanging out a bit, we headed back into town. On our way back, I was hit with sharp stomach pains and a rumbling gut, uh oh... So while Josh went to hang out, I headed back up to Ana's where I could be near a bathroom. Bummer. And I can't help but feel that after years of travelling in almost 10 different developing countries, shouldn't I be exempt from this or something? But of course, bacteria is different everywhere, and every new place brings a new bout of traveller's diarhea. Grrrr.