Arrived Mazatlan, following a sleepless night in the Edmonton airport. But worth getting to; warmth, water, and an excellent hotel. Once again, the question needs to be asked: how safe is Mexico? And the answer is we don't really know. Horror has entered stage left, with severed heads being left in public places, with the ritual-like killing of bloggers and emailers, and with a resignation on the part of Mexicans.
Still, life goes on and the road in was congested, the sidewalks full, the street sellers out in full force. The police in Mexico, may be the only ones I've ever seen with their hands never leaving the butt of their guns, but everyone else goes about their business.
Mazatlan, of course, is surrounded by some of the richest agricultural land in North America; fields of tomatoes, cucumber, onions, wheat and barley. The city itself is a long strip of hotels in the Gold Zone for the tourists, attached to an interesting malecon and the downtown historic centre. There is a conspicuous lack of social elevation that can be found in other parts of the world (ie: the striving of Cancun for 1st world status) and here you find the real Mexico. There may be a quiet desperation on the part of the Mexicans, more insistence in their voices, more of an almost child-like pleading in the eyes, but they are still warm and friendly. Cancun seems plastic in comparison.
I never did get an answer to the "being safe" question in my mind, although I returned safely, but what I did find is that no one other than the salesman on the streets and servers in the restaurants seemed all that interested in us.
No comments:
Post a Comment