Mexico: another, nothing blog

In two weeks I’m going to be in Ixtapa Zihautanejo Mexico.

I will be sitting on the beach thinking about how not to contract hepatitis and ruing the day my ridiculous ancestors picked Canada as their place of dwelling.

It’s so cold here, and grey, and Calgary has dust and dirt and SUVs (I should know, I drive one).

I hear in Mexico all they do is smile, and not drive SUVs, and drink Corona all day.

Side note: They only drink Corona because there’s no water to be had. It’s piped directly into the foreign resorts for the white tourists to use in abundance while the mexicans suffer in the hot sun and become dehydrated. Arriba! Olay! Yeah! They built a Walmart in Mexico and it put 200 farmers [who sold their wares at the now (also defunct) morning market] out of work.

Where am I going?

I'm going to Meh-He-Co!

I will not be staying in a resort.

I know, it’s a shocker - this is me we’re talking about. Tess “I hate camping, vermin, strange bugs, and cold showers” Traveler.

But, I have decided to forget about the wonderful world a resort with swimming pools and running, clean, water would have to offer. Instead I have decided to rent a small apartment (from an old Mexican lady - who does not accept visa) in the middle of the colloquial fishing town of Zihuantanejo!

It's 30 dollars a night, total. SO it must be beautiful inside!

It's not only the moral thing about resorts that turns me off of them. You see the thing of it is, I find that resorts and children often go hand in hand, and I'm not a big "children fan." Especially when I'm travelling and tired. The other thing that happens in resorts is that one minute you're sitting at the bar, minding your own business, trying to drink a mojito, and the next you're suddenly surrounded buy old, white, racist, tourists who came to Mexico to golf or some annoying, yuppy, married couple who drive a Gulf.

- both groups, much like small children, I can do with out... Thanks, but no thanks - know what I mean? Leave me alone so I can drink and take in the sunset without your pointless babble... I'm a journalist, I'm trying to think here, and experience Meh-He-CO.

(The last thing I need is a child, an old man, or a married couple snuggleing up beside me at the club med bar...)

I want to do this the right way... like a... like a... Well, not like a Mexican, good god no... but, like a journalist... A journalist who is determined to see Mexico from the ground up.

What does "from the ground up mean?"

No one knows.

But, I'll tell you this much: I’m so excited! I will be there with my aunt (who is only 40 and very capable of having fun still - and travelling like a hard headed, no-bullshit, journalist). Further more, she can throw back a bottle of gin like a drunk'n sailor... I guess that would make her a gay sailor, as I don't think straight sailors drink a lot of G and Ts...

But, I digress. Back to Meh-He-co:

The only thing I’m worried about is getting rabies from a stray dog… or Hep C (not from a dog, from water…or ice...) I haven’t actually had any shots for that kind of thing. But, I’m going to get one next week. I wonder if that will give it enough time to sink into my blood stream (the inoculation, not hep C).

No ice for me. And no swallowing the ocean water when I’m swimming. I will have to be very careful, and stay away from sushi.

It’s going to be great! I’m going to bring my camera and everything!

I'll take pictures, and write stories, and expose the terrible tourist industry for what it is. And when I say "what it is" I mean: whatever I find through my journalistic digging and investigatory journalism work.

It's going to be awesome, I'm going to get so shit faced!