ENTRY 4: MEXICO/USA

I’m in a dodgy corridor in Hollywood. There’s a horrible Classic-hits station playing at the moment which seems to have only ‘Walk this way’ and ‘Back in Black’ on rotation. The youth hostel which promised wireless internet has failed on yet another of its key selling points. Despite a little frustration over the many things this place over-promised and under-delivered on, I am happy to be in Hollywood. Already I’ve seen a few landmarks which were etched in my mind since age six or seven when I saw them on TV specials. Of particular significance was Grauman’s Chinese Theatre. This was the original release site of Star Wars on May 29, 1977 (scarily, I did know that date off the top of my head). Now begins the authorial nightmare of evenly dispersing the content of the last week in the slums amongst the comparative glamour and sophistication of downtown Hollywood. Hmmmm, where to start…. How about where I left off nearly a week ago? Hmmm?

The Silver Ferns have an interesting warm-down technique after a match. They move from ice cold buckets of water into blistering heat. Back and forth they go for some minutes. Apparently the variation in temperature helps to keep the muscles active without risking bruising or tearing. This seems an accurate description of what the last week has been like in my journeys from Mexico to the US and back again. From the desolate slums of Rojo Gomez, to the pristine and affluent inner-city of San Diego – Back to the poverty-stricken streets of El Nino, and then to the hustle and bustle of downtown Hollywood. I’m not sure there’s any way I could have so perfectly taken in the contrast between the two lifestyles. Grass and vegetation in the slums is non-existent, yet only half an hour across the border suburban lawns sprout lush crops of green grass. I’ve spent time in crowded homes which stench with the smell of many people, yet in the same day walked through air-conditioned shopping centres which seem to stretch for acre upon acre. What a strange life we lead in the western world.

To tell you the truth, I didn’t feel like Mexico had changed me at all until I stood in a San Diego shoe store a few days ago. A pair of Nike’s were on sale for $49 US. I was only inches from buying them… but poverty is hard to ignore now I’ve seen its face. As much as I’d love to ignore it, I knew this product was soaked with the sweat of kids just like the ones I’d spent time playing with in El Nino and Rojo Gomez. It’s startlingly difficult to work out how to live ethically in a western culture after an experience like this.

Now at 2am in this LA Backpackers, I can’t help but think that Hollywood is the perfect metaphor for our western culture. The glitz and glamour you’ve seen on TV stretches all of a hundred metres at most. Walk a little further down the Boulevard and you meet the real America. Struggling both inside and out with spiritual and physical impoverishment. The people of Rojo Gomez and Baja are blessed that they will never see this. We are cursed to see it every night during primetime.

I don’t really want to say much more about Los Angeles. Just trust that we’re doing everything we’re supposed to while you’re in a town with this many theme parks and beaches. I think for the rest of this trip I’ll just use this blog to reflect on some of the stories from the past week. There’s a lot to tell.

Be in touch.