Monday, May 16, 2011

Nothing Says Mexico Quite Like Dynamite!!!

Ah yes, dynamite.  Mexico.  They're like hand and glove.  Peanut butter and jelly.  Babies and handguns.  A burro and a sick sloth...

Dynamite is a tradition in Mexico.  Hell, it's a requirement.  When you turn 18 you get a voter ID card and a stick of dynamite.  Girls carry a bouquet of dynamite on their Quinceanara's in Mexico.  It's used as candles on your cumpleanos cake (those are candles you REALLY do want blow out.  Completely!!!).   Wanna fix a pot hole?   You need some dynamite.  Wanna put up a building?  You need LOTS of dynamite!!!  Wanna celebrate a National Holiday?  Even MORE dynamite!!!  The locals call those things "firecrackers".  In Mexico I've dodged more concrete and re-bar shrapnel than I can shake my good hip at!!!  Hell, I once saw one of those "firecrackers" take out a pastelaria and half of t-shirt shop!!!

I've seen hillsides come down (unintentionally.  OK, I'll stop laughing now...), the main highway buried for more that half a kilometer under rubble, a resort blown half way to the Moon, streets shot to Mars and a swimming pool come out onto Calle Amapas like a tsunami.  Imagine giving ME a stick of dynamite.  Yeah, not a pretty sight...  It's even worse down there.

Vallarta has one "main", "fast" way to get from the south side up to the airport.  It's called "The Tunnel.".  I use the term loosely.  VERY loosely.  Suddenly, six-lanes goes down to two-lanes, no exhaust fans, lots of carbon monoxide, dirty diapers and dead people on bicycles.  For about half a mile.  As you approach it you close your vents, roll up your windows and hope to god you can hold your breath long enough to get through it.  You exit covered in soot and grime.  AH, such is the tropics...  I love the Third World!!!  Well, things are about to change.  Perhaps not for the better...

Construction on a new, additional tunnel has begun.  Running through the same mountain comprised of bedrock.  Just a handfull
of meters away.  Oh, no.  As of the start of construction, May 13 (and YES, that would be FRIDAY THE 13th!!!  What were they thinking???) the decision was still up in the air as to use dynamite or a large boring machine like they used on the Chunnel from England to France.  WTBF???  No good can come of this...  I see a slum, a cemetary, some auto repair places, dozens of street taco stands and concrete blocks in total mayhem.  And then the rainy season will start and all will wash down into the Bay.  I used to love Rosalinda's chicken taco stand up there.  What a shame she's going to go rushing 1500 feet downward in a landslide of muck, paper napkins, designer kitchens, gay bars and styrofoam plates into the Ocean of Peace.  Missing most of her limbs, her tire rim and all of her grandchildren as well...  Oh, well, shit happens I guess...

I see frigate birds dropping from the sky from the concussions,  pelicans made deaf, deep sea fish made blind and innumerable OXXO's blown to hell in a bolsa!!!  What is left of  Rafael's Radiator Repair will surely be found out beyond  Punta Mita, somewhere between Sayulita and San Pancho.  Perhaps as far northwest as the the Las Isla Tres Marias.   Been there.  Done that.  Saw the prison...  Got some phone numbers...  Had some cocktails...   Got a tatoo...

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