Code Pink Journals CodePINK Journals

Work 4 Peace,Hold All Life Sacred,Eliminate Violence! For now, I’ve returned from my Joiyssey to participate in the "revolution":I’ve been at many Occupy sites across the country:1st in D.C. Freedom Plaza I faced & challenged racism/white supremacy, sexism/patriarchy, classism, heterosexism & eventually was kicked off the island; then I offered workshops as I drove to CA:“Anti-Racism Geared for White Occupiers”; “NO DRONES” "Successes and Pitfalls of OWS"

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Full Moon On the road again

The full moon is up and joining me as I head south and then east to the last little town, Yavaros, before the ocean begins. I am so pleased with myself. I have stopped and asked for directions several times and people have understood my halting Spanish.

First I ask a coke truck driver, who I figure is a good bet and he is. But I get lost in the next little city and have to ask again. I ask 2 different random guys in trucks. The last guy actually has me follow him a ways and then pulls over at an intersection and shows me exactly how to go on.

The sun is setting, the skies gorgeous reds and blacks, and the full moon is shining in all her glory. It is later than I want it to be as I drive into this last town before la playa. By the time I get here, it is full dark, except for the sunset in the far west, yet the people are all walking in the streets, hanging out in front of yards, storefronts, sidewalks.

I have to drive slowly, carefully so I don’t hit anyone or any beast. Dogs are plentiful in this town too.

It is beautiful, warm, serene. The road goes thru the whole town and from what I can see, maybe a couple of factories at the end of town. I can not see very well, except by the light of the moon and the very last reds and blacks of the sunset fading way out over the ocean. The road ends and becomes dirt.

There is a bus parked on the side before the asphalt road ends, and a few feet down, still on the asphalt, an old pick up truck.

I go off the asphalt, hoping I am on solid ground and not sand and pull over. The place is just so beautiful, with the water gently lapping the shore and the moon high in the nite sky.

Someone has built a little straw roof ‘hut’ with no walls on the beach. A couple of people are sitting there on benches that have broken, watching the last rays of the sunset disappear.

We great each other, Buenas Noches, as they leave. I hope they are not leaving because I have parked here. I can hear people, most likely from the little truck I have passed, playing the guitar and singing.

I pull out my red stool and sit on the sidewalk watching the ocean, the moon, the night falling down around us. I think I can hear sea lions or seals barking in the far distance. It is damp from the ocean but warm. The tide is out. I wish I had gotten here earlier so I could take a walk in the ocean.

I am so hungry, I return to the camper and cook a huge pot of rice, throw in a sweet potato and a couple of eggs, then pile on the red pepper, yeast, garlic, flaxseed oil, and lime – and I have a feast that I eat outside on my red stool! A stray dog comes over to beg unsuccessfully for a bite, although I will share with 2 legged creatures.

I am also suddenly exhausted. I close my door, leave the dishes for tomorrow and get ready for bed. All nite long, I hear mostly male voices, and the occasional accompanying car, sometimes singing loudly on the beach with a guitar, sometimes playing loud music from their car. I console myself, knowing the car battery cannot last long.

On and off all night, I hear people reading the truck in Spanish but I cannot stay awake long enough to try to understand what else they are saying.

I am too tired to be polite and greet anyone. And too shy. I will apologize profusely in the morning, if anyone cares, and hope that works.

Guaymas and more...

The trip to Guaymas was beautiful and uneventful. It took awhile to leave Hermosillo because of the parade and streets blocked off. Vendors were out early this morning and so were paradees in full regalia and parade watchers carrying chairs, jugs, and food.

I’d like to celebrate revolucion but watching military boys and military-like boys march down the street is not my idea of celebrating.

The desert continues, with the road running almost totally straight in between the mountains which are not a range but appear like the goddesses plopped unformed cookie dough all around. As I get closer to the coast and Guaymas, the vegetation increases – the palo verde, mesquite, cacti – until the desert takes on a predominantly green color – not the unnatural green of that weird grass taking over in the U.S. deserts of New Mexico and Arizona, but the beautiful soft green that compliments the browns and yellows along the floor, and the dark browns and reds of the mountains.

I have always been fascinated with the crosses placed on the side of the road where someone’s loved one has died. This part of Mexico, there are much more than just simple crosses – there are little rooms built with artifacts inside, candles, flowers, and the names of those who died with the dates of their births and deaths.

One memorial I saw was a big white box, probably the size of a casket, although rectangular. It had 4 large crosses of varying heights on it, and one small cross in front of them.

Another red and black circle sign posted on a cross said “biker” in English.

It seems a lot of people have died on such a straight road with two lanes going in each direction, separated by at least 1/10th mile between us, most of the time more. But there is no shoulder and perhaps people are willing to speed because the road is so straight.

Off to head south. I just found out a friend will be meeting me in Mazatlan in a couple of weeks so I’ll mosey on down the coast and see what’s happening! This could be the last time I’ll have internet access for awhile. We’ll see!

9 pesos per liter!!!

Yikes! I decide to fill up the diesel before leaving Hermosillo just in case - better safe than sorry and all that. Now I wish I had changed $200 yesterday instead of just a hundred. grrrrr

9 pesos a liter is like $3 a gallon - same as in the U.S. wow! The best thing is that I had space there - and help from a young man lifting the front as the decline I found wasn't sufficient - to change my little fuel filters, as the pressure gauge has been reading close to 0 forever now.

I changed both filters, made sooooooo easy by Shazam - thank you darlink forever! - and that one day we spent 5 hours looking for parts and then 45 minutes putting in shutoff valves. It takes me about 15 minutes to get all the tools together, the pan to catch any spill, dig out the filters and rags I need; close the shutoff valves, undo the clamps, replace the old filters, and tighten them back up again. Yeah!!!

Hope that makes the gauge scoot back to 18 or 20, which is where it is supposed to be. I'll stop on the road, heat up some of the food I made yesterday, make coffee, and go!

Good-bye Hermosillo!

I'm off this morning, and another fine desert morning it is. It cooled down nicely last nite, and the sunrise is just the finest!

This spot I chose to park last nite was far from the finest - but it could have been worse. It is a one block, little road and just unbelievable the heavy traffic that zoomed by until the wee hours. Then the bus drivers (I guess) having a little party - in preparation for the revolucion celebration perhaps.

I intend to drive until I find another likely spot for veggie oil! And a spot where I can have some solitude, less folks around, less traffic.