anywho, finishing up on mexico. finally.

the center of town seems to be a main drag with cars "cruising". shirtless young men on the backs of trucks rubber-necking hot ladies as they drive around the block with low-rider VW bugs blasting home-spun mexican pop. there is a plaza with a fountain. but more importantly, scantily clad teengagers who seem to avoid the advances of smarmy men with a flip of the hair and a snively laugh to their friends.

a few tomale vendors push their carts of food in an icebox over the cobbled streets and mothers and grandmothers talk while seated outside their closing taquerias, whose outdoor tables are lined with multitudes of salsas served in large colorful plastic bowls.

in our room, we talk for hours on the bed about men in every detail imaginable. but we keep discreet with those we love. tomorrow, i'm hoping to hike to the top of this small hill where an abandoned and ramshackle beach bar was built and is now decomposing into broken wood and brown dried palm fronds. most of the time, i donm't know what to do with myself. but writing gives me a reason to travel and travel gives me a reason to write.