Just realized that I never wrote a post about Mexico.
The country, which paid so poorly our music show and which gave us so generously real friends on the road. As usual, places are beautiful nature just for the eyes, thru which your soul can calm down but people are the genuine experience, which ultimately matters.
We met Will and Eli in Cancun, guys, who we could count on, hosted us several times and were the right alfintrions to open the doors of the Mexican kingdom.
Will, Eli, a friend of them, Piero and me in Tulum
Piero, Eli, Will and I at their photo exibition in Cancún, our first Mexican city after we left Colombia
Sarah and Matt were our home, where we always could harbour. A French couple, who offered their additional house in the backyard to us and were our family twice in Merida. Our connection was very special and strong and a traveller could only dream to have such angels on the road. They run one of the best bars with live music in the centre of Merida, we met on our first gig, they offered their house same night, we moved in next day and without a struggle, an effort or inconvenience, we were living together and our acquaintance grew up into a strong, true friendship. They are currently back in France, sold their Mexican business and their love embraced the coming of a new life.
Sarah and Matt
R.I.P., Damien. One other life though flew away untimely several weeks ago and left us tremendously sad. Damien was a special part of our company in Merida and no matter his decision afflicted all of us knowing him, he will be a bright memory of a cheerful, clever, charismatic creature, full of life, full of love. God rest his soul.
The mad story about DF or Mexico city will be shortly exposed as being in a town with 28 million other people, overflown public transport, streets, bars, festivals and fairs. If you are not a street artist you will definitely need significant amount of time to set you up, which we didn't have. It was an economical disaster, the city was sucking us up, we just left the home of someone we met on the road and headed for a hostel when literally with coins in our pockets we found out that our only credit card was hacked and drained. Our coins were enough to use public i-net club and post a SOS couchsurfing message with our phone number and wait someone to haver us.
The rescue call didn’t take long. Fabian (a.k.a Freddy) and his brother Eric were literally God’s messengers. We stayed in Freddy’s home until we started giging (extremely poorly-paid but enough for food and wine) and believe it or not, as in a fairy-tale, a sale of a fossil shell, left by a friend of ours in Cusco, paid us one-month rent in a safe neighborhood. Mexico city is a damn cool place to live in, full of adventures, events, art and chaos, but when the month was over, there was not a fossil left, we were put out to gig in one of the biggest chains in all Mexico (Sanborns), so we took off back to Merida in our French family, where spent the most wonderful Christmas of all times.
The rescue call didn’t take long. Fabian (a.k.a Freddy) and his brother Eric were literally God’s messengers. We stayed in Freddy’s home until we started giging (extremely poorly-paid but enough for food and wine) and believe it or not, as in a fairy-tale, a sale of a fossil shell, left by a friend of ours in Cusco, paid us one-month rent in a safe neighborhood. Mexico city is a damn cool place to live in, full of adventures, events, art and chaos, but when the month was over, there was not a fossil left, we were put out to gig in one of the biggest chains in all Mexico (Sanborns), so we took off back to Merida in our French family, where spent the most wonderful Christmas of all times.
Piero, Freddy and I
El día de Muerto, DF, 2013
D.F. was unthinkable without the charm of Freddy, our hanging out together and the brotherly love we shared one another. Misquique, El día de Mueto, Freddy, Piero and I, November 2013
Christmas in Merida, Sarah and Matt's home. Our home.
Our first gig in Mayan Pub, Merida
After a week living together Sarah and I figured it out that we were born on one and the same day.
Cenote, Mérida, 2013
This Mexican post comes after two-year delay, there is no strong urge in me to tell about how fucked-up Mexico is economically and politically, how their petrol is sold, how they get Americanised, how unsafe it is and how the country is under total monopoly and still beautiful, still unique, still an echanted in a way, ancient special place on Earth.
This post comes to sew my travels with the almost two years back in my homeland time.
Two years of almost infinite transition (two homes, four jobs), of strong personal disappointment and discredit, but as well period of starting dancing and practicing again and setting up a path to a new world, the one of the dance therapist. When something gets broken inside the only real remedy you can apply is to keep on the journey inwardly because not a travel deserves a thing if the change doesn’t happen from within.
Ready to open a new page. A bright one, where I will draw with all the potential accumulated those years and with all the beauty impatient to be born again. Amen.
This post comes to sew my travels with the almost two years back in my homeland time.
Two years of almost infinite transition (two homes, four jobs), of strong personal disappointment and discredit, but as well period of starting dancing and practicing again and setting up a path to a new world, the one of the dance therapist. When something gets broken inside the only real remedy you can apply is to keep on the journey inwardly because not a travel deserves a thing if the change doesn’t happen from within.
Ready to open a new page. A bright one, where I will draw with all the potential accumulated those years and with all the beauty impatient to be born again. Amen.
