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Aspen to Central America
11:17 am
Mon June 9, 2014

On the Road: A Pearl in the Caribbean

Credit Skippy Mesirow

Havana

Havana, what a fantastic city Gatito thinks. It’s big, spread out, home to several million. Old Havana hugs the coastline with its long ocean-front boulevard, soaring buildings forming the skyline. The city is filled with color, buildings awash in every hue, stained glass projects colored light onto the streets, massive 1950’s taxis are painted in bright ostentatious tones, their massive chromed bumpers and flanks reflect light like a kaleidoscope as they drive, local Cuban men wear fluorescent pink and green skinny jeans and pastel deep-v t-shirts, women are adorned in flower and geometric print leggings or colorful short-shots and lacy tops. It’s a cornucopia of vibrancy and movement. Everyone is in sunglasses and jewelry. Everyone smiles, she sees so much energy, everyone is playing, vivacious, its feels like a Jr. high dance, nervous tension, butterflies in the stomach, exuberant embraces, absolutely giddy with excitement. Everywhere Gatito wanders people stop her, shake her hand, pick her up so she can see above the crowed and ask all about her life, genuinely interested in whom she is and where she has come from. When they discover she’s American a glint in their eyes is inevitable and questions abound. They love America; they want to travel there, to see their relatives, to learn about the monopoly to their north that has so affected their lives yet they know so little about.

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Aspen to Central America
3:08 pm
Sat June 7, 2014

On the Road: The Journey In

Credit Skippy Mesirow

Cancun – Havana

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Aspen to Central America
12:17 pm
Thu June 5, 2014

On the Road: Forbidden Fruit

Credit Skippy Mesirow

Cancun

From the time of Adam and Eve it has always been that that which is forbidden is all the more viscerally desired. Human nature perhaps, our drive for the obscure, the unseen, the unknown, breathes within us and bubbles from deep in our souls. And when, though not often we can conquer our fears, it boils over the caldron rim and seeps into every nook and crevasse around the globe, enriching all aspects of our existence. It’s a human story, and our story. It’s what has motivated us to come out of the cave, and move across continents, and cross the oceans, and go to the Moon. So to with travel, the allure of places impermissible and unexplored is all the more palpable. From the far corners of the earth, societies and people beckon to be seen, understood, and experienced.

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Aspen to Central America
1:21 pm
Tue June 3, 2014

On the Road: Riding the Struggle Bus All the Way Home

Credit Skippy Mesirow

San Cristobal –  Cancun

It’s early. 6am. Dawn breaks with the chirp of birds and the flutter of winged creatures. The night’s rain subsides into an early morning mist. I’m packed and ready to go, leaving San Cristobal behind and ready for my final push south. I’m flying out of Cancun on the 17th to a friend’s wedding in New York and then on to a secret destination for 10 days (more to come on this later) before my return to Mexico and the resumption of the road trip. I’ll have a companion today, Becka, who you’ll remember from a couple posts back, is hitching a ride.

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Aspen to Central America
12:02 pm
Sun June 1, 2014

On the Road: To Move or To Linger?

Credit Skippy Mesirow

Oaxaca – San Cristobal

A big toe grips the cobblestone. An arm brushes a wall. A drop of dew is deposited on a forehead. A glint of light reflects off a coffee cup outside a café. Often this is how we see a city. Not so much the photons entering the iris and processed in the visual cortex but the intangibles, the little things. The distant laughter of a child, the wafting of sweet elote, the soft light of a streetlamp, the way a stranger approaches on the sidewalk, the colors of a wall. It is said, “The traveler sees what he sees, the tourist sees what he has come to see”. I’ve come a long way the last few days, perhaps too far, to fast, it’s time to engage the present and walk the path to transcendence. Tonight, I wander the streets of San Cristobol. Slowly and determinately. As I do I reminisce about the past week.

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