Mark All Collisions!

I thought I missed UK radio…

…until I hear about Nick Grimshaw’s song of the day.

Generic electro who are, or want to be, French.

They are called ‘Ou Est Le Swimming Pool’.

What.

It seems that NOTHING has changed in a year.

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Monday News

I really dig being the news guy for Monday Club (my friends and I convene at the pub every Monday to celebrate life).

Ryan’s comandeering of my notebook influenced me to write this weeks as a stream of conciousness poem:

It always begins with Mike the chicken,
Bein fed with milk an corn feed an survivin for
a mistaken 18 months.
He always knows the true names of the men that work:
Rafa is Dom
The other one is Michaels
(who had a haircut)
An so Moore rolls on.
An the man with th bottle n book looks over
th tops of his spectacles
An doesnt make a sound,
An only eats in silence
An stays til 11 
an its noticed that its gettin late
As he leaves shrieks of javid
In his wake that
are heard from outside.
Th Mole Race begins
T track down a ticket for
The weekend’s big show
Egged on by those
who are plannin an plotting
for th same thing.
But the jurys sill out on that one:
Its waitin for th small ads.
Bruce pays a visit
An it’s nice t see him
(T see him nice)
as it’s nice to see Beca and her fringe
but she’s purple as well as brown
and her brain ain’t workin
So spackman has a drink on her dad
As rumours spread about his own.
“Maybe its the l-shape
That makes all the mix-ups”
So Monday club becomes distinctly more square
An Falex has his good nature preyed on
An picked at
An luke shows no remorse
As he plops another penny in th drink.
There were so many chiefs
But no one to judge th accusations
Nor th mistakes of Ben as he repeats them again
And again
And again
We get a visit from Fruit Too Much and Lewis Smooth
And they stay a while
But dont get the 21’s
and so it goes slow
an he listens to the names
an then he leaves
without a word.
And Moore Rolls all th way t the end
As Ryan takes th squash from th basket
And just puts it into another.
And Moore Rolls on.

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Ok, so…

… I am back in the UK. Back Home. And My adventures will continue.

I could very easily sit right here and write about my experiences in Cuba but I would be here until next week so I am just going to… it’s not that I am not going to bother, it’s just it’ll appear here and there when I have nothing else to write about.

For now:

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AIRRRRRPOOROORRRTS

I hate airports. I have spent about a third of the last week at this particular one.

I suppose it’s that time. Time to say goodbye and whatnot.
I don’t know how easy it will be to get on the internet in Cuba so I will be going quiet for a while.
I am going to carry on writing, only in a journal that A bought for me for christmas which I love. When I go back somewhere that allows me to do things with computers, maybe I will scan in the pages so you can read all about what I got up to.

And photos! I won’t be able to post any photos. I hope I find some FAT bandwidth when I leave Cuba…

Mexico has been really cool. When i left the USA after New Year, I wasn’t looking forward to coming back. I was tired of it. That is until I was flying low over Mexico City and I realised how familiar it was. It has become a good friend of mine, a place where a lot of important things happened, important memories made (and lost) and I will never forget my time here.

But enough of the nostalgia, I am looking forwards!
Magdalena read me a horoscope which talkied about making things Gourmet enjoying every moment for what it is. This had a special resonance for me because sometimes I feel like I let things pass me by, i stop noticing the small things that make the big things what they are. I don’t really make resolutions but this is a contender. Stop and notice what’s going on once in a while and look at things. I need to learn to notice my surroundings, not merely be geographically in them.
I also want to start playing chess. I have images of a park somewhere in Havana where I will go and find a grumpy old gent to teach me Chess, he will be course at first, but he will warm to me and teach me more than just Chess.

That is my imagination in action. It’s like a movie.

I will call it…
Grumpy chess man.

Yes.

I feel bad about leaving too though. All I want is for Magdalena to be happy and my going away is stopping that. I feel it’s selfish of me just to up and leave when we have such a good thing.

I don’t know what the future will hold for us, and that is comforting. I don’t like to plan things and, this sounds horrible but, I see this as some kind of test. If we can make it through this and still feel the same at the other end, then what we have really is something special. I want so much for that to happen but like I said, it is not up to us to decide yet, only time will tell.

The Beatles song Wait is EXACTLY how I feel.

How cool is that.

So yeah, my possible internet silence begins very shortly…

Good bye! (but not forever)
Paz y Amor

xx

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A Hairy End

Here I am back in Mexico, in a state of panic.
Why do these things always happen to me?
Before I left, I lost my bank card three hours before my bus to DF. I had to frantically contact my bank to cancel the lost card and arrange a direct money transfer to a Western Union; Once there, I had to fill out 2 forms, get a copy of my passport and wait for 50 minutes before they gave me the money. I made the bus (and subsequent flight) on time but these things are terrible for my nerves which are jangling on a normal day).

I don’t want to dwell on my time in the USA too much because it was both an amazing experience and one of the most painful things I have had to do in my life.

I will never forget leaving Magdalena at the airport. Tears streaking her beautiful face. Neither of us are sure of the future. I try to see it as if we are to be together again, it will happen, and if not, that is the way tings are but I struggle to be so objective over the whole situation.

I love her, she has shown me so many things about myself and I hate being so far away from her.

So here I am back in Mexico. My last full day in Xalapa is not shaping up to be one of the best. When I returned on Monday, my bag with all of my clothes, wash kit and, fatally, my camera charger were left in Chicago. It should have arrived yesterday on the flight from Chicago but it was cancelled. I can only hope that baggage handlers are organised and that they find a way to get my bag to me before I leave for Cuba on Saturday morning.

Vamos a ver.

With every passing day I am less and less worried about Cuba, things have a tendency to work out and I even shocked myself to learn that I cannot transfer money to a Western Union in Cuba and will have to rely upon a kindly Brit to lend me the use of their bank account until March when my parents come with a siny new card for me.
I have a feeling that after my first few weeks, I will be firmly acquainted with the British Embassy and its staff in Havana.

They might not be so keen on seeing me though, especially if I have to go there naked due to my clothes still being in Chicago…

Paz

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A Summing Up Of Parts (Part DEUX)

Like Hot Shots!

Sleep eludes me once again.

Ok, Part Deux is like the contemporary thing. I know, I seem t have left out a lot of details but I tend to do that.

Preamble to 9/12/08
It is now yesterday and the crazy came back.
I don’t know what happened, it was all cool and then I seemed to regress slightly; the old, unwelcome feelings of doubt and paranoia crept up on me.
I did what I used to do: I was moody, snappy; alienating myself.
But the difference is this time I caught it in time, stilled a while, stared at the sky, made myself feel small and pointless (this is not negative; it helps me) then I felt a lot more calmer and could go apologise to Meme for being grumpy.
(She’s got enough shit to deal with without my temper tantrums)

There was one thing that kept coming up, though and I haven’t been able to shake it.
I have a bad feeling about someone I don’t know.
The name pops up and it makes me jealous.
I don’t even know why this particular name does it to me.
I hope it’s just paranoia and not ESP.

“Monopolise All Circumstances”
What he is and what I hope he does not.

9/12/08
Today was good though, all the turbulent crap I went through yesterday couldn’t be contemplated in the morning as I woke up ten minutes before my foto class.
Stealing three Triki-Trakes and running out the door, I realised I hadn’t showered for 3 days
(Well the guy said to keep my tattoo dry ‘til it heals properly). I grabbed an 8peso breakfast of a croissant and carton of milk to eat while walking to Facultad.
(I guess this is what’s meant by Comida Corrida. Ha.)
Class was fine. Foto evaluation. Felix liked 15/40 photos which is pretty good. Last foto class though. Kind of sad, really.

After that, went to the school to meet Clarita for coffee as we arranged. That was nice, talked about what we’ve done, what we’re doing, RHUL, blah blah… seem to always hit the big things in small time with coffee, Clarita and Rosbenito (the waiter).

Then it was a lone lunch of cheap corrida. Wrote some stuff.
One of which is below: I still get a kick out of that, HA!
The other was just what came into my head.
Soup Stains.

Then went back to the school to meet M. Helped her study Nahuatl for couple of hours.
Didn’t worry about that name. But then i don’t when I’m with her.

Then class, didn’t listen to some people’s presentations, except the one about Son-Jarocoho.
Pretty funny, our teacher used to play in a Jarocho group so busted out her 4-string and played some songs!

Then we went to Patio Munoz to see where Fandangos are held.
Man, I love that place so much. It’s the kinda place I’d want to live. Couple of families that lived there painting for Posadas.
Kinda interrupted the guy’s class but he was cool, talk about Jarocho.
Played a song. Was good until the Habero came in then man, felt like a fishing hook in my belly button. Jarocho does something to me, man. It’s fucking awesome.

And that’s about it really, spent the rest of the night ‘expanding my vocabulary’ apparently…

And still no more crazy. Apart from earlier when I went hunting.

But that’s not important.

Chao
P&A
xx

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Apocolypse Now

Si baje la escalera, estaré en la plaza

Si yo bajara la escalera, estaría en la plaza

Si yo hubiera bajado la escalera, habría estado en la plaza

One man’s journey into madness demonstrated using ‘si’ clauses and the subjunctive.

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