Through The Eyes of Your Southern Brother

Through The Eyes of Your Southern Brother
"The only thing to fear is fear itself."
I had just crossed the border at Tijuana after about two days on the road coming out of Oregon, and I was heading to central Mexico. Tijuana is one of the wildest places on earth, a place where any fancy can and will be taken care of, but I was on a mission. I was heading south to a place where most American's have a fear of going. And for the most part, we don't live by the words of one of the most beloved President's. We as American's have ever had. And since that fateful day in November of 1963 around thirty years after RDF stated one of his most famous quotes, that inspired a nation that was in a crisis of biblical proportion's; we lost all hope and became terrified. Perhaps fear has become." The New National Motto." Maybe we are paying for the sins of our fathers, but I digress. Now it is time to think about survival!

I was sitting inside the bus station in Tijuana; people were moving in all directions. Most would turn their heads and look at me, an then they would go back to what they were doing. I always try to keep a low profile, but it's hard. When you have blue eye's and blond hair, it's like having a mysterious birthmark. Also when you're an obvious production of Californication, and being from the west. No, the far west pinned up against the Pacific. The old
saying, " Go west, young man." Does not apply to us, and when your countrymen think that we are just different and the local's think that you're another foreigner and that leaves some of them wondering. "Why is he here?"

I walked outside, to have a smoke and the Santa Anna wind's where blowing out of the east with a vengeance. A man came up to me that was most likely high on meth, and the bum began to hit me up. He reminded me of the 'walking dead.' His eyes were lifeless, and he was in a rage, I looked at him dead in the eyes, and there are time's that you kill "Madness with kindness." So, I gave him my last dollar and perhaps that one dollar would ease his pain. Because once you're on that shit, it's the end of the road, and most likely, he'll never make it back to "normal." But what is normal?

A man brandishing an assault rifle that had bloodshot eyes that most likely, he had been up for 24 to 48 hours was standing in the doorway. Next, to the ticket counter guarding a young Mexican lady, that had the body of a supermodel. She tried her hardest to accommodate me, but I could tell that she was nervous or maybe she had some underlining hate for her 'Northern Brother's.' That man! With Colt semi-auto rife was keeping his eye on me, and I could tell that he was bored and he was waiting for some 'action,' and if I made one false move. I'd end up feeling, the wrath of "Cold American Steel!" After she concealed her feeling's of hate, perhaps, the lady was envious of me. I did not know. And maybe it was better that way to remain ' In my little world.' Sometime's it saves your life where ever you are on this third rock from the sun.

" Where are you going, Sir?"

She looked up at me from her computer and then smirked at me, and the guard looked at the ground, and then made eye contact with me and gave me a ' shit eating grin.' It was one of those smiles that makes you wonder if they think you're 'crazy' or just plain 'stupid.' Well, maybe they were right, perhaps it was due to my lack of interest in conforming; to the dear old needs of Uncle Sam. At the moment out of his 'loyal subject.' But the fact of the matter is, is that almost 200,000 people have died in "The War on Drugs." In Mexico, in the last ten year's. We as American's are no better off; we have weekly massacres, with up to 50 or 60 victims at a time done by nutcase kids; usually, are from the middle class!

" 1,250 Pesos Mexicanos, please. Sir... Sir!"

Her eyes and her soft brown skin began to take me over, and she reminded me of an old classic rock song that brings you 'peace of mind' for a moment while it plays, and that's when I started to trip. Her and I off in the desert with a bottle of tequila and nowhere to go, with all time in the world! To study what nature was all about, I smiled. While I was reaching in my pocket for the money, then I counted it quickly in the most discreet way that I possibly could because the fact of the matter is that you never know who is watching!

" Sir, you'll be departing in 20 minute's and will arrive in Morelia,
Michoacan in 48 hours, with a 30 minute stop in Culiacan."
" Thank you, Senorita."

She handed me my ticket her thickly framed eyeglasses glistened underneath the neon lights, and the gunmen tipped his ballcap perhaps it was his way of giving me his blessing, and I went over and sat down amongst the masses. Maybe they think I am a Viking or some highly trained assassin! And I am heading south to claim my 'booty,' or to see someone for a 'job.' There may always be a level of suspicion in the eyes of her and her people. Something that may never go away, and it is deeply ingrained in the fabric of both countries. That keeps us apart, while we have so many things in common.
"Bus # 1820, gate seven Morelia, Michoacan, departing in six minutes, have a safe trip.