When we first started planning this trip, we didn’t care too much about moderation. We decided we were going to leave for six months. No second thought. When we set out on our journey we were in search of something raw, and riveting. The sections of the country that are uncensored and predominantly dangerous. One of my goals was to write about the very real existence of poverty, and the wide chasm between the rich and poor. We all love Mexican drugs. Maybe not you personally, but “we”, as a nation, certainly consume titanic amounts of them—and go to extraordinary lengths and expense to acquire them. The United States especially. In the service of our appetites, we spend insane amounts of money on Mexican drugs—while at the same time spending billions and billions more trying to prevent those drugs from reaching us. The effect on our society is everywhere to be seen. Whether it’s kids overdosing in a small town, gang violence in the big city, or burnt our neighborhoods— it’s there to see. What we don’t see, however, haven’t really noticed, and don’t seem to much care about, is the hundreds of thousands that have died, and their families who’ve been touched directly by the so-called “War On Drugs”.
However with every country there is beauty, and maybe I’ve imprinted the wrong image. Mexico is unique and gorgeous, just look at it. We love Mexican music, the architecture, the interior design, and Mexican films. It also has some of the most ravishingly beautiful beaches on earth. It has given the world chocolate, corn, chillies, the printing press, bull fighting, vanilla, avocados, tequila, the jumping bean, chewing gum, color TV, windshield wipers, and birth control.
We consume nachos, tacos, burritos, tortas, enchiladas, tamales and anything resembling Mexican in enormous quantities. As much as we think we know and love it, we have barely scratched the surface of what Mexican food really is. It is not melted cheese over tortilla chips. It is not simple, or easy. It is not simply ‘bro food’ during the football halftime. It is in fact, old— older even than the exquisite cuisines of Europe and often deeply complex, refined, subtle, and sophisticated. A true mole sauce, for instance, can take days or even weeks to make, a balance of freshly (always fresh) ingredients, painstakingly prepared by hand. It could be, should be, one of the most exciting cuisines on the planet. If we paid attention of course.
It’s one of the places we, as a family, are happiest when the day’s journey (or work at times) is over. We’ll gather round a street stall and order soft tacos with fresh, bright, delicious tasting salsas—drink cold freshly squeezed lemonade, and listen to sentimental songs from local musicians. We will look around and remark, for the hundredth time, what an extraordinary place this truly is.
However with every country there is beauty, and maybe I’ve imprinted the wrong image. Mexico is unique and gorgeous, just look at it. We love Mexican music, the architecture, the interior design, and Mexican films. It also has some of the most ravishingly beautiful beaches on earth. It has given the world chocolate, corn, chillies, the printing press, bull fighting, vanilla, avocados, tequila, the jumping bean, chewing gum, color TV, windshield wipers, and birth control.
We consume nachos, tacos, burritos, tortas, enchiladas, tamales and anything resembling Mexican in enormous quantities. As much as we think we know and love it, we have barely scratched the surface of what Mexican food really is. It is not melted cheese over tortilla chips. It is not simple, or easy. It is not simply ‘bro food’ during the football halftime. It is in fact, old— older even than the exquisite cuisines of Europe and often deeply complex, refined, subtle, and sophisticated. A true mole sauce, for instance, can take days or even weeks to make, a balance of freshly (always fresh) ingredients, painstakingly prepared by hand. It could be, should be, one of the most exciting cuisines on the planet. If we paid attention of course.
It’s one of the places we, as a family, are happiest when the day’s journey (or work at times) is over. We’ll gather round a street stall and order soft tacos with fresh, bright, delicious tasting salsas—drink cold freshly squeezed lemonade, and listen to sentimental songs from local musicians. We will look around and remark, for the hundredth time, what an extraordinary place this truly is.