u.s violence invading Mexico

As I am getting ready to leave, a man drives his truck over to the edge of the water where I am parked. I go over to talk with him.

We great each other and he says something rapidly in Spanish. I ask him to slow down and we have that "little english/little Spanish" apologetic conversation.

He asks me slowly what I am doing? He says everyone is curious about this truck and my presence.

Earlier this morning, the old man on the bike came by again to say "Buenos Dias" and most likely to make sure I wasn't an illusion but real. While we were talking, the other not quite as old man came out of the house I suspected was inhabited, come over and asked me what I was doing here in Mexico and to tell me I shouldn't worry about anything, that he had my back covered, last night and for as long as I wanted to stay.

Now Jesus is wondering the same thing. He tells me he is a fisherman and has lived here all his life. He asks me about Monsanto. We talk about growing organic and about the huge farms that have sprung up. He says little farmers have either been taken over or several farmers have joined their land and resources together.

He says he does not eat organic but wants to.

We talk about war and the u.s. starting and continuing so many wars. We talk about war by the u.s. as one of my reasons for leaving the country. I actually get to have this conversation often. I am deeply moved by how aware the people I speak with here are and how passionately they feel about war too.

Another younger man joins us. He speaks a little English. He tells me he was in the Bay Area for 8 years. He says he does not like the u.s. because of all the violence and he is so very happy to be back for the past 2 years.

They both say so very sadly that the u.s. violence has invaded Mexico. And then they both reassure me that Agiabampo is very safe, peaceful, with no violence.

I ask Jesus about women fisherpeople. First he says no, only men fish. Then he looks at me kind of oddly and says, well, there is one womon who fishes. She goes out by herself, sola, he says.

The boats I've seen this morning leaving the shore have at least 4 or 5 men in them. I ask why she goes by herself but Jesus can't or won't explain.

I ask to meet this womon fisherperson and he says "es no posible". When I ask porque? he doesn't answer. I wait. He tells me in English his time has run out and they must return to work.

I thank him and the other two guys for talking with me. We shake hands and say goodbye. I am sad I cannot meet the womon fisherperson & I seriously debate with myself about staying another day - and maybe taking a walk through the town, searching for this womon fisherperson.

I know she is the town lesbian. Or if not, she is the womon in town who dares to challenge sexism.

But Los Mochis is calling me - and Las Glorias! Not to mentoin aceite vegetal!