Nov 2005

plans afoot here in the city of eternal spring and perennial choking. a job has been secured in the small town on baños, ecuador. a highland area, surrounded by volcanoes and jungle. a flat is provided with a roof terrace overlooking the volcano, and a couple of hundred quid a month as well, which is more than enough to live on. average price for a meal is 60p to a pound, and a beer is 40p in a pub, so nae bother.
Mostly the job involves teaching english, but the guy wants help to structure, organise and promote the department there. free spanish lessons are another great bonus.
a pic of the skatpark in quito for those who want to check it>

this is in quito, which is a cheap 4 hr bus ride from baños, where i intend to go at weekends if at all possible. need to skate!!

before that, its some surfing in puerto escondido and puerto angel on the pacific coast. carribbean coast is still a write-off. there´s not much of a beach left from cancun to tulum after the hurricane.

I did my best to stock up. In my last few weeks in sweden and scotland, i exploited every conceivable opportunity to skate; knowing from experience that serviceable spots on this side of the tortilla are rare quarry indeed.

Cuernavaca, Mexico, distinguishes itself in the fields of pollution and street hawking puppy vendors, but little else. Undeterred, i packed my board with an air of optimism.

You´d think with a population of just over a million that there would be a block or two to grind, but bloody hell!

I used to torture myself by reading these bleating letters to UK skate mags, which commenced with "Ur magazine is thu best", stuffed with "there´s nothing to skate in our town" and capped with "any chance of a sticker?"

If said magazine truly was "thu best", these ignoble runts would indeed receive their sticker in the form of a 2nd class stamp on the forehead as they were unceremoniously crammed into a DHL luggae hold and shipped to Cuernavaca. A sense of perspecive would quicken them before the jetlag even gained a toehold, and I swear they´d learn to appreciate their ASDA carpark in a twinkling.

I walked many kilometeres over 3 days in a search for skatespots. The streets are packed with people and traffic, the ground is rough, but a challenge is a challenge after all. On day 3 I bumped into three 14 year old chicos with boards, which looked like straw reed brushes at either end, and were little improved in the middle.

We sesioned a drop of 1.5 metres into a busy road, guided by the whistles of our lookout on the edge of the sliproad. I was nearly killed several times, but what a rush!

We soon tired of our lives flashing before us, and hopped on a bus to the Uni. Buses here are a great laugh. When we DJ reggae music, we use sound effects like sirens and lasers. The buses use the same FX panel to communicate with each other and the pedestrians, making the streets sound akin to an R2D2 invasion.

30 minutes of exhaust fumes leaking through the floor later, and we staggerd off. The uni was a surreal place; decadent fluted columns flanked by monoblock haunches gave way to taco vendors, sunbathing students and....

A 30 stair drop with an unwaxed concrete ledge down either side. It took 2 full candles to satisfy its greedy maw, and the kids porferred sideways glances at me while helping, as if I was digging my own grave.

The security guard looked far too wasted to object and, to tell the truth, it wasn´t too steep. A tailslide was had, and these kids have followed me everywhere since. their big bro is driving us up to Mexico City tomorrow to check out a nice concrete park.

The funny thing is, that these kids did seem to have some kind of raw natural ability. Their pop was admirable considering the dimensions of their tails, and they had a nice relaxed style. It made me think on how a goldfish will only grow as large as its bowl will allow, or some such platitude.

These guys were quite poor, no doubt at all, but happier with their lot than many of the salmon-faced trend kids at Bristo Square in Edinburgh. They face adversity in every aspect of their skating, yet still manage to come out on top. I took an instant liking to them and their ready smiles, and was glad of yet another lesson in humility.

"To be satisfied with a little, is the greatest wisdom"
Akenhaton

"Silence is the element in which great things fashion themselves together." Thomas Hardy

Cuernavaca is full of noises. Every shop is fronted by a p.a. system playing cheesy music for mexican lovers., which blend into a melee of heartfelt sentiments competing for your attention.

A twitch of the ear and a girl is bellowing a sales pitch for underwear, framed by a piece of plywood with weather yellowed Y-fronts nailed up in faded glory.

Distracted once more by a lad with a plastic pumpkin head to celebrate the halloween-corrupted "dia des muertos" (day of the dead). "un peso signor....ooon Pay-soh"

Gently rebuffed, his pleas are replaced by vexed car horns signalling their displeasure. A trolley load of childrens dolls, with distressing and garish faces,has spilled into the crossroads. The traffic policeman mouths something, but is masked by the belly-thud from a souped-up rustbucket with go-faster stripes. The backseat is burdened by a speaker with a bass cone the size of a the livi bowl and an empty bottle of corona where the tweeter once called home.

Searching for a higher octave to balance the growl, i am assailed by the tandy mixer FX from an autobus de morelos , who´s blurb claims it is "driving towards a better Cuernavaca".

No time is afforded to mull over such patent irony, as I am stepping trhough the door of my hotel. A shrill electronic beep denotes my arrival to the ever-giggling sisters at the reception desk, who smile while quizzing me about an unpaid soda. All this to the tune of a screaming child with a snotty nose, who poked me in the leg on the way out.

I fall asleep for what seems like minutes, yet the darkness leaking in the window proves me false. There´s a sound, which i just can´t seem to place.

I grab my board and tiptoe out, heading for the biggest hill in town. The place is dead.

That sound confessed to me upon waking, that embrace of absence and peace, was silence. The canvas is unspoiled, and i fill it with colours of my own; tracing and sketching down the long smooth road.

The noises are all mine, until tomorrow.

Been really lazy today. went out last night with thorulf the swede to dinner in a big, posh house in the southern suburbs. this city was originally built as a retreat for rich mexicans from mexico city, and is packed with swimming pools. this house was incredible. dinner was a buffet affair with refried beans, hot salsa verde and roja, tortillas, veg, tacos, queso blanco and sol beer. others there were english teachers. Very nice people, who made us feel very welcome. Some very interesting chat, especially with a 45 year old californian surfer with whom i could compare skateboard injuries. the huge plate in his arm beat me hands down.

oops,place is closing.more to tell.back soon

Hello hello

Trip here was very very long.Up at 4am after nae sleep, off to edinburgh airport. Flew to Frankfurt for a 3 hour wait, and then off on the 11hour flight to Mexico City. Arrived to a huge immigrations queue and on to the bus for the 2hr trip to Cuernavaca. Hotel Americo is a fiver a night and it´s actually not tooooo shabby, so I´m happy.

Up this morning for a stroll and some breakfast. People wish you good day in the street, and are exceptionally helpful, just as i remember them.

They are big on eggs for breakfast, which is fine by me!

Got some time here (2 weeks) to soak up the atmosphere and relax a bit. get some writing done and catch some sunshine before heading down to the coast. will upload some photos really soon.

besos
mark