grad school

If I last out here until October 20th or so, maybe that's a way of looking at this time. [grad hobo school]

There's a big ground-breaking for a community garden near where I used to live on 10/21, and my mom may be in SD at that time--

Thursday I did not meet the marineros, but the activists instead. The sailors don't meet at Vendimia _every_ Jueves, I was told. However, at the end of the SD -> Ensenada race which started Friday, they gather at the Saint Nicholas hotel--

I did mend my pack: for me a great accomplishment and industry and some inventiveness (used the tab of a Tecate can to run drawstring through so it doesn't cut the sil-nylon any more).

Tues night I was out near Sauzal. Went back to UABC library Weds. Found beautiful coast walk and another back way (past security) into El Coral marina. Posted note seeking to crew. Found new spot practically right over town (in hills) Weds night. Thursday went back out coast walk, swam, found shade, sewed, lay hypnotized by sounds and sights of ocean and ocean life. Have not spent this kind of time right on the coast for years--if I lived near water and beach in SoCal, maybe. . . [something].

But mind was voided [what now? Nothing], and Thursday asked about buses to TJ. Could cost only $10 dlls, but haven't verified. ABC bus line. Every half hour. Trip is just an hour or less? So easy to return. But heard the Valle de Guadeloupe(sp?) is even more beautiful than the coast for at least one SoCal transplant (a marketer). I believe this is along the road from Sauzal to Tecate. Were I headed back north and manage not to rush, hope to go that way--catch the smaller buses or hitch. Wine Country.

I managed to hang on though. I have nothing to do in SD, nothing to do here[--nothing comes to mind]. Why leave? And I won't let myself return to old rut, won't return without some plan of what I'd be doing and when I'd get out.

I did meet the activists in the plaza of large gold heads. October 2, 1968 students were killed (50 or so?) by soldiers in Mexico City(, at UNAM?). The activists would like permanent display space for information about this killing and related issues in this plaza of (~2m altura) gold heads( of prominent males in the fairytale Mexican history--hidalgo, juarez, and??[ De Goma/de Vasca?]).

I spoke most with Jorge--he could find me folks to stay with, invited me to 10peso/pint beer the next day at Amigos, shared info so we could stay in touch. I had my carfree vest on--this is sort of my crowd. . . we knew folks in common from the City Heights Free Skool & Organic Collective. He'd watched from the top of the fence, Mexico side, when the Border Patrol came in on 'no borders camp' (US side) and grabbed one activist and were beating the guy.

Well--I haven't followed up yet. Was sort of thinking of heading north at the time. Things are different in the mornings. I was a bit tired out yesterday [Friday] and laid around in various spots where I found shade: where I woke, until sun was higher, reading papers I'd collected; by the rock wall of the overlook on Chualtepec (sp?) hill, listening to a probably professional drummer practicing in one of the large, interestingly-architectured houses nearby; and in the oasis of shade and mellowly great public space at Parque de Revolución--a ways off the main tourist street. Cruise ship patrons were running through the latter, the town bimbos trying to catch the (generally American, somewhat frat-ish) cruise ship bimbos.

In el Parque, practicing sitting on a bench, sort of felt like a Quaker meeting. Eventually settled down and just sat. Eventually got to reading more Calvino--this time a Spanish translation, his Cuentos Fantasticos del Siglo XIX (something like that). At one point helped my benchmate move our bench a bit so he could be more in the shade. Eventually the little whiffs of exhaust I'd been getting got to be too much. Resolved to get food and make for the plaza near the harbor (better air) and head south for the evening. So now I'm on a hill south of town after having spent some time along the beach south of town [in the afternoon shade behind a deserted guard box/casa de vigilancia].

Some notes of things to look up sometime:

o a google search on "baja permaculture" -- I did this and . . . A site near TJ came up--
o http://trifund.org - united world of art, evironment, culture
o Augen Optics (has a fancy factory near where I spent night in Sauzal)
o Santorini ? Fancy blank façade--toughish males out front. & sanoviv(e) , while you're at it--the med school.
o Ongley Institute
o IWAHQ.org - publishes _Water_ a water industry mag.
o Titulos en español y en lenguas indigenas - www.culturaspopulareseindigenas.gob.mx / cnca.gob.mx
o council cudadano de atención al tourista - ccat
o Coleus (a genus of plant?)
o Comisión de Amor
o Frente Popular Revolución - pcmml.com
o junkraft.blogspot.com - ecomariner Joel Paschel
o solidnav.com / repower
o hospitalityclub.org (ensenada hosp. club)
o bajanews.info
o ensenadadentalgroup.com (a visit to dentist could be good, if they were)
o juventud con una misión (rehab?)

--

A lot of the wondering, when mind not blanked by rolling waves, waves hitting rocks, pelicans flying, surging water, sparkles, light, has been '. . . well, now what?'

Haven't been driven to head to that mountain--not yet, so far. Sort of feel I'm done wandering alone? So: wait around still more to try to meet some sailors who may need crew. Wait until redpillsailor is ready to leave--. Go to family farm and grow something(s). Go to monastery. Continue to hang out and do nothing/read ebooks/whatever. Go back to SoCal or US somewhere (along beach? or anywhere else--) get some sort of job [McDs?], make money, pay rent--, go work on some permaculture project-- , urban planning or library school/work--

have entertained and imagined out those possibilities and a few others. . .
The continuing themes: not wanting to commit to any significant ?? (such as becoming a buddhist, such as making the effort to visit the permaculture site, such as asking anyone for anything [let me crew, let me have this job], such as . . .)

Lest you think it's too idyllic out here--always seems to be at least one spry mosquito out on these hills. And I haven't sewn Ray's anti-mosquito gear, and not until tonight has it really been cool enough to stay covered with quilt.

Peace,