Real del Catorce, a Mexican ghost town full of life.

Monterey is lovely, a great introduction to Mexico, especially for someone who knows absolutely no spanish or no idea of life here. I manage my way around with the help of Sofia, translating, sightseeing, introducing new people, and being an amazing hostess. I'm in awe of the sites, Chappinque, Huesteca, downtown, the area in general is a beautiful mountain landscape. Complimented by amazing people, friendly, helpful, entertaining, it's definitely an area that invites and welcomes you with open arms.


    As we drive up to Chappinque for an amazing view of Monterrey, Sofia and I take advantage of getting acquainted and exchanging ideas and lifestyle differences between Canada and Mexico. She is opening my eyes to a new world here, and I'm loving every moment. Food, I've been waiting for good Mexican food forever, and everything from Tacos, Gorditas, and Tortas has been a feast for the taste buds. The night skies and picnics in Huestaca invigorate the soul, it makes me feel at home with shadow puppet on the mountain.

The language barrier leads to a few awkward moments, and some miscommunications of consequence, but alas there's very little to be done about that. As we spend the few days in Monterrey we are also getting ready to drive up to Real del Catorce for the weekend, and my birthday. I'm getting anxious about that.

    The road trip filled with laughter and great people, Sofia, Daniella, Baby, and Catalina make the road wonderful. It's a long drive there, and a crazy long tunnel to get into the city. 2km I think, of one way traffic. The 2743 meter high city has incredible air and a view to match it. After we check into the hotel, it's dinner, drinks, and rest to prepare for the rest of the weekend. There's a Redbull event, flat land freestyle and Sofia's friends are playing a concert for it. A beautiful morning leads me to wander by myself to take some shots of the area. As I walk by a donkey behind a fence I snap a quick photo and move on. Later returning to the same fence, and gentlemen was watching me set up for another quick snapshot. Focus, line up, and all of a sudden he's standing in the photo and talking to me. I'm confused because I don't understand a word he's saying, but I figure he's asking me if I want a photo with the donkey... Not so, he wants money for the photo of the donkey. I reluctantly give him 10 peso and take 2 nice ones to make it worth while. hehe I got played. No worries though, today is chido, and tomorrow is my birthday so I've got other things on my mind.

    We venture of into the small city filled with beautiful stone roads, with crazy intense hills. The city is built on the side of a mountain, which makes it a challenge to walk especially after the drinks at a local bar. Nothing but good times here though. A visit to the cathedral, some horse back ridding to the old city and silver mines, it was a great birthday gift, but I will always remember that Sofia got the band at the bar to play happy birthday for me, and the bartender that gave me some kind of shot that got me all messed up, and tequila, tequila, tequila.
    Meeting Sofia's friends from Porter was a memory all on its own. Carlos was a great character blending rock stardom with finesse, hairspray for everyone, sunglasses and Sofia's jacket to finish off the onstage presence.

We drank so much, and I have to say Baby put us all to shame by drinking a whole bottle of Shivas to herself straight... that's impressive, needless to say she didn't make it out all night, haha. She also composed herself amazingly without any incidents. Sofia ended up kicking the sherif of the city by accident, umm make that multiple accidents, but all was well. Catalina disappeared for a while and Daniella and I got right into the action, drinking and cheering on the BMXers and laughing our asses off. Porter hit the stage and everyone got crazy as the bull ring turned into a mosh pit and suddenly a "conservative" throws her bra onstage. Yeah it was a party unfolding.

The after party was even crazier, at the same bar we were at the night before. People from all over the world, from Spain, the US, Mexico, and so on, it made the liquor flow that much quicker. It was impossible to move in a crowd of hundreds, and you danced where you stood, drank, laughed, and enjoyed the moment.
    I love Real del Catorce but unfortunately all things come to an end and it was back to Monterrey to start working on the music video...
    
    

Me-hee-ko

Last daze of familiarity, and not a moment too soon. The snow starts falling, temperature dropping, and I'm having my last meal with my good friend Andra. We're at the Rex, enjoying some beer, food, and good jazz as I head out for a smoke. I've been in Toronto and Hamilton for about a month now, and one person I really wanted to see was an old friend Sarah Taylor. We worked together in Hamilton a few years ago, and when I left to the west coast she was in the same transition of going to Toronto. We said our good byes and good luck, but never had any contact information. It had ended there. Now I had got her number from a friend and left some messages, but received no reply. She had become a television host now for A music video station, and I wondered if she even remembered me amidst her new found fame. I have my views about serendipity, but as I stood in the cold smoking, I couldn't help by say under my breath " I wish I could see Sarah walk by". My eyes started to shift back and forth scanning Queen St.West and I seriously questioned my mental health in that moment. Sarah a tall slim beauty, was now walking by me across the street. It took a moment to clue into the fact, and I yelled from a distance, and would you know it, she remembered me clearly. So there we were having a drink and getting all caught up on the past 3 years, and the congratulations of what we had accomplished in the time gone past. Moments like that always have their place and reason, I might never know why it happened, but I'm glad it did. I had done everything I wanted to do now in Ontario and was ready to leave for something new.
    It was early, and Sean and I were groggy. As we leave to the airport, I'm excited, but half lucid, so the coffee goes down and I'm saying good bye to a friend I've reconnected with. Everything seem to happen so fast, from getting through the line up, and through security, and then waiting at the gate, I'm now boarding the plane. Small but comfortable, the flight is uneventful, except for my sinus infection bringing me to tears at certain altitudes. Couple ibuprofen and 5 hours later we land in Mexico.

The confusion of the airport, and the worry about security, after what happened in Buffalo, leaves me sort of on guard for anything to go wrong. I'm now a free man in the streets of Mexico city, and the one thing I can't stop thinking about is "Don't get in the green taxis" I've heard too many horror stories about people getting mugged and killed. Mexico city is a nice place, but also very populated (10 million or something) and dangerous. I decide to take my chances and head to the Metro.

    I got looks, many of them thinking I'm gringo..., but there's no way of me saying to everyone I'm from Canada. To be honest I don't think they really care either way. So off to Autobuses del Norte, and I figure I'm right on track. Hehehe I don't speak a single word of spanish! I met -------- and he was kind enough to do all the translating for me, and even find me the best deal on a bus to Monterey, Nuevo Leon. We spoke for a while, since I had an hour to kill, and he got me acquainted with mexican culture. He was from Chappas and so he was just as lost as I was, and went to tell me that he had gotten himself mugged the other night, by getting into a green taxi. "They stole all my research" he told me, and this had no value to anyone other then him. Some papers about old native mexican languages. He studied and taught linguistics in southern mexico, and specialized in ancient languages like mayan, and aztec. I envied this man for not being all distraught, everything seemed fine and calm for him. He kept me company with stories, making sure I was alright. When it came time for me to catch my bus, he asked me quite embarrassed, if I could help him out to with some money. I immediately thought I had just got played. I will never know for sure, but I gave him $20 US and some Canadian change I had. I thought to myself, and justified the situation. He helped me out more then his share, and I can honestly say I don't think he made all that up. Whether it was a ploy or not, I knew that I had done something nice in exchange for someone else being a good samaritan, and nothing else mattered because that was my perspective about it.
    10 hours to Monterey and I slept. I was so tired that even the 3 other guys who were trying to be courteous by offering me food and conversation weren't able to keep my interest. Halfway we stopped and I made some friends, which came in real handy when I needed to call Sofia whom I was going to be visiting. I had no clue what I was doing, but everything seems to be working out. We said adios, and I was meeting Sofia for the first time. It was 3:30am and I was now at my destination, and full circle in an again half lucid state.

    

Christine Keeves

Time to fly to another place... Bags packed, hang overs gone, plane ticket in hand, I will be surfing by tomorrow morning. As Mark and his brother in-law are ready, we all climb into the car and head out to Buffalo where I'm going to fly out to Long Beach California to meet up with Karen. As usual I'm running late so we are in a rush to get there, but not with out a quick bite to eat. Bellies full we're in line at the border. I'm not sure how many people I know who have damned to United Sates of America's arrogant border, but I now know that I am one of them. The mentally challenged border officer that couldn't understand what I was saying let alone trying to explain that I was flying to California to see a friend, and hadn't confirmed a return flight because I would be driving out of the US of fucked up A. "Off to immigration" he says, probably more out of incompetence and lack of effort in his work then actually thinking I was going to work in their country. We drive to the building, and every move is done with caution. It's really interesting how paranoid you feel when under a marshal law. I mean between countries there are no rules, they have complete control over you, or so we all think that. Regardless we are here and waiting for our names to be called. I notice that everyone in the room has same sort of nervous twitch, a knee bouncing around, fingers running through hair, biting lips, constant blinking, we all have our own. I immediately became aware of my situation, and figure I would try a different approach considering you don't get pulled in to the kind of moment everyday. With my nervousness pushed deep into my belly, I become calm and arrogant, I wanted a level playing field here. I knew from the start things were not going to go my way, if your at that point you already know your fucked. So I state my case.
    Christine Keeves was the officer who I dealt with, and I must defend her here, because she did everything in her power to help me out. She was polite, timely, and to the point. I stated my facts, that I was flying to California and was going to make my way up to vancouver back home. Ok so I lied a little, but you only get one story to tell and I figured going back to a life I had in Vancouver was better then trying to explain I was becoming a global hobo and heading to Mexico. The story didn't convince her supervisor, as he arrogantly asked me my income, my savings, my credit, assets, and blah, blah, blah. He then insisted I had no proof that I was going back to Canada, and that I did not have enough money to travel. I could understand their view, but what confuses me is that by telling a vague truth I get refused entry into the country, but had I lied my ass off I probably wouldn't have had any problems. So with this I learned a lesson a already knew, tell them what they want to hear!
    So after 4 hours of interrogation, figure prints, mug shots, and pretty much feeling like a criminal for something I hadn't even done, or couldn't even make sense of yet, we left to drive back to Canada where they were much friendlier. Yeah no worries was pretty much all we heard driving through the border. I'm not sure I understand why policies differ from border to border, seems to me that every one of them has the same job to do, and I haven't heard about there being more breaches in Canadian security then in US security yet our border guards do their jobs with a smile on. I guess some just have different approaches, and apparently being an asshole just works better? I would love to see the proof of that. All of my american friends completely understood and expressed the same lament, that no one goes to visit them because of the same reasons; it's too much of a hassle and very degrading to enter the Unapproachable Security of A fucked up political nation. So I quote my friend Karen from California "fuck the US... the hell with it. " and with that start look into booking the first flight I can to Mexico.
    With a common theme happening in my experiences, everything happens for a reason in life. As we arrive disappointed and angry there is not much to talk about, so I make a call to inquire about the cheque I was supposed to receive for some work I did in Toronto. One phone call led to 3 more gigs, so I pack up once more and head off to Toronto to stay with Andra and Sean. They were amazing hosts, and are both great friends. Beer, pizza, and more good memories, conversation, and drunken haziness, I'm loving this. I manage to book a flight to Mexico city direct from Toronto, all I have to do is survive a weekend and pick up the rest of my things in Hamilton, and by Tuesday I'll be in full form and in my first foreign country. Mexico I'm on my way.... I mean for real, I need to get as far away from this snow as possible.
peace,
-ken

From Tdot to Steel town

    So from Toronto to Hamilton it seems I'm making this travel a habit. As I head to my new place to live with my dear friend who is more like a brother to me, Mark; I have no words to express my feelings for and trust in this man. I settle myself in. The night starts off with some celebratory drinks, the beer and Jagermeister flow freely and I reconnect with old friends. We hit the Lions' head for some conversations gone drunk. With old names like Will, Shawn, Dave, and Ray, this was just an introduction, as I'm leaving to go back to Toronto for an old friend Andra's birthday.

    In Toronto now, again we all reach for the drinks, and toast what we have all grown to be, people we are proud of. Sean, Paul, and I have not sat in the same room together in 6 years and some things never change, the energy remains, the laughter, the hugs, the drinking and stories take over. The rest of the night went by as naturally as anything can be, as we couldn't stop dancing at the underground bar on King st. To see Paul and his beautiful new wife made my smile, knowing that sometimes the good guys do finish first, and a good heart does triumph. I wish them good fortune, health, and happiness. As for Sean and I, we sat drunk until the early .am and managed to get a little rest before driving back to steel town for some more alcohol abuse.

    A little butter chicken in our stomaches, a few beer, and it's to the Lions head again. This time Sarah has put together some disco balls, lights, and cleared the floor, as I put the funk music together for an all out take over of the bar. People I haven't seen in years dropped in for reminiscent stories, and I danced, got drunk, and managed to behave no matter how tempted I was to jump into some debauchery. I thought about how good life was at that moment, with laughter, friends, and the creation of new memories.

The following morning was hell, I haven't been that hung over in a long time. I think that morning was the most relaxing pain I've ever felt, 6 movies with Mark, a bucket of various popcorn, and a lot of water, we never left the apartment. The rest of the week was all about resting, making some jewelry, designing some postcards for a client, and preparing for the flight to California.
    I was leaving Monday, flying to Long Beach California and ready to be surfing in Venice on Tuesday with Karen. I was excited to be spending some time with a dear friend, and seeing the west coast again. I've been really missing that pacific ocean, and wanting to either move on or move back but the transition period needed to be on to the next phase.

Snowbaling away to another place

I am now packing up the bags and hitting the road again with my sister Michelle, it's time to head south again. As we drive through the beautiful Northern Ontario scenery, from Timmins, through Matheson, Temagami, North Bay, and onward to Toronto. The sun is full of radiant energy this day, as we decide to find an old family house in what has become a foreign area to us since we're running on childhood memories; the road decides to end on us, and damn these small town dirt roads... We hit a snowbank and managed to be safe in an unpredictable accident, but now with the car stuck literally off the ground floating on the hard packed snow. An hour goes by and after breaking a shovel and using way too much kitty litter, we get enough momentum to push the car back on the road and keep on trucking as they say.

Back into a road trip groove all is well, for the time being. Only in Ontario do you see so many cops, and I have nothing but respect for people who take pride in their work, although I swear this officer was a robot. Reiterating a condescending speech he's probably said a thousand time before, we did get our deserved speeding ticket. I do have to put my perspective in here, if your not being reckless, I don't believe that speeding is a valid crime worth the price of these tickets... or the emotional attack on ones dignity, making you feel like some criminal. We were just chilling on a road trip minding our own, and these experiences give cops the unfortunate stigma of being assholes. Enough said about it, we have all been there.
    Now sailing on Toronto lifestyle, we are here in a familiar area, and way of life a little more suited for us. I say my good bye to Michelle and welcome my new home for the next couple weeks. I could never thank Jackie Brown enough for her hospitality and caring nature. She put up with me unfortunately getting sick and being all whiney for most of my time there, but we did have some good times, great conversations, and she was good company.
    My time there had a purpose, and work was on my mind, since I'd be leaving for countries I would have trouble finding work in now, and had to take advantage of my situation here. Frischkorn AV was there to help me out. Seems networking with the right people in Vancouver had its advantages for me here in Toronto. Richard a gentleman I met on a KIA show in Vancouver happened to be my connection for a few gigs here in town. So now I'm putting in about 30 something hours in 3 days, and building up the funds to make it to Mexico. I have to admit, this company really knew how to treat a freelancer, and I had it made. Being put up at the Royal York hotel for the night, rigging up the Toyota show, and second lighting guy to Richard, was some hellish hours, but a pleasure to do. Torontonian lifestyle is simple, work, sleep, day after day, with the weekend to play. I fit in for my time there, and play time was great.

    For the first time ever, we had every project3media member in the same room, with exception to Colin who was still in Van. We gathered up the collective consciousness and started our massive brainstorming session of life, technology, progressive thoughts, and global interactions, mixed with a melee of interactive media, design, and environmental issues. I loved every one of them for keeping me sane and feeling good about my future in this world. The idea that there are people out there making things better to live in, designing a brighter future with care and consideration is one of comfort.

Another unexpected meeting of friends was about to occur, and this time it was more of a reunion. As I head down to the International Backpackers Hostel in Toronto to see some old friends gathering for Raymond's last night in town. Raymond is a good hearted soul I went to high school with, he's been DJ'ing in the city for a few years and was now about to leave for Northern Ontario to help out his mother. I admire this man's strength of character. It's great to see all these old friends doing so well for themselves, you know when you wonder what happened to the friendships of old, and where everyone is at... Well this was my moment to have those questions answered. TJ and Erin have done amazing, Megan raising her little girl and still pursuing her career, Empy, Roberts, Stevan, Shawna, they all have their stories to tell and I listened with a keen ear. The night was a late one as the alcohol was distributed freely amongst us, and morning was happening against our wishes at Shawna's place. We left for some rest, the parties are ending for me, they have to I need to get ready to move on to the next place. Hamilton is next, and there's another story to come.

My roots in the Holidays

Ca vas? je suis encore en vie...
    Drinks are cheap, incredibly cheap, but my wallet is still diminishing and I'm trying to hang on to enough so I can make it to Mexico. Being back in Timmins, the holidays, friends I haven't seen in years, and all the consumed intoxication, I'm really home! How I managed to do this my entire youth and still be alive just amazes me. I'm really enjoying the vibes here though, my little cousins, Joshua and Kaisha have kept smiles on my face time and time again no matter how I feel. I love them for that.


    All the people I've confided in, the ones that share my most memorable moments growing up... they're here, remembering me. Shit even people I don't know are telling me stories I don't remember. I wish I could document it all, because I'd love to hold on to the memories that others' remember. The reminiscing is making my heart grow fonder of the place I used to call home, my growing experiences, a place I know well.

    Days until christmas and the family starts to take precedance, I've missed them dearly. I can't express how good it feels to be in pressence of the people who have raised me and helped define the character I've become. Fish fries, turkey, potatoes, turnip, let the old style home cooked meals flow. If there's one thing you do here in northern onatrio is eat plenty of food, and good food at that. The fresh pickerel and pike caught only days ago, the potatoes my grandfather has grown out at the cottage last year, most importantly is the amount of love it's all prepared with, thank you grandma. Christmas is how it used to be, a celebration of family with plenty of drinking. We plan our route with cautious drunken steps towards the house down the street filled with more relatives singing and dancing. Santa Clause being one of the youngest cousins. My great aunt surveying the room watching her kids, and grand kids like a concerned mother hen. I love the air, I love the laughter, these are the kind of memories I can't wait to share with my children... Christmas eve is always high energy and loud with family laughter. We go until 4am and that's an early night, I guess age is slowing us all down.

    Christmas day my uncle and I have the task of skinning a wolf they caught on the trap line. Now I know that some might never understand the role of a trapper in this world, that's alright, I'm not at a moment to give an explanation, and you'll all just have to bare with me on this. It's a necessity in this world! Trapping is a part of my heritage, it's also something I unfortunately missed out on due to circumstances. My grandfather was the trapper and he stopped doing it years ago. Regardless of me being within that lifestyle my whole life, I never had the opportunity to walk a real trapline, or skin an animal. Now my uncle has been trapping for his kids, and continuing the tradition. I have to mention there's no money in trapping these days, and you really have to love doing it to really do it. So with the opportunity at hand I had to go. Back to skinning the wolf... I have much more appreciation for the work involved. It took us over 3 hours to finish skinning the wolf, and that's just removing the fur, not even washing and preparing it for sale. I really worked on that one, it really isn't that easy. From lifting the large animal, I think he weighed about 80lbs and that's a small one they tell me, to meticulously cutting away every inch of fur without putting holes in it. I have only one expression for it. Wow! I did though, regardless of how hard it was physically and mentally. I said a prayer of thanks for its life, the experience, and knowledge it gave me to move on in this world.

    
    The gifts have all been given, the handshakes and kisses start to decline, now we prepare for new years. With more extended family on their way from southern ontario, we leave for the cottage. Five days in the woods, five days to relax and ice fish or snowmobile around the beautiful frozen landscape. We have six adults and five kids, plenty of food, and more warm clothes then a sherpa. The fur hats, ski pants, long johns, snow boots, and anything wool is a must, and if you don't know what some of those are then you haven't really been in the cold... Again the food is plenty, and we devour feast after feast, baked hams, turkey, pizza, all cooked on the wood ovens....MmmMmmm. Pulling the children on the tube behind the snowmobile, shoveling a skating rink right on the lake, we play and play. My first walks of the day across the lake with my coffee and irish cream in hand, snow up to my ankles, and endless beautiful landscapes within every blink 360 degrees.

    We catch fish with pride, we drive the ATV and snowmobiles all around the area, and we take in every breath with bliss. Every face has a smile on it from morning until night. I remember doing all of this when I was growing up, but something is different now and I have to make mention of it... maybe the introduction of the dvd players, and playstations wasn't such a great idea? I'm a really open minded person and I did watch a film and played some games, but I can't fight this feeling of dissappointment when I see the kids having a great time just rolling around in the snow or wrestling on the bed. Then without a moments notice, they are put to the electronic babysitters. For the first time I think I read some minds... they really didn't want to play with these toys, they wanted child interaction and I think we all should have let them choose their own enjoyment. This is the cottage right? Where anything goes, and we are free in the elements. Nonetheless I'm not the governing powers here so I bite my tongue and play along.

    Out of the blue, we receive some company from family and other extended family members, and now the party is just starting. We drink and become merry, very very merry. The old french folk music starts playing, the fire outside is glowing as red as it could, and we sing and dance. I have to thank my cousin Marcel for the energy to carry a whole group of us into the dancing and singing "les chanson a repondre". I really needed to have that moment before traveling, to spend time with my own roots. the drunken stumbles are actually some french dance steps, the hollering, and yelling, these are the sounds of pure enjoyment of life. As the spoons are heard in the background and "la bolduc" treats us with her "turlutages" I'm immersed into my past and loving every fucking second of it. Even sporting the traditional fur hat, which I think looks pretty damn good on me... I'm bringing fur back!

    Well it's time to move on... Onward as has been dubbed the saying by Dani, I'm on my way south to Toronto for a couple a weeks of work and play. the trip should be eventful.
Peace,
-ken
    

Road trippin' and no time to sober up.

    Friday December 8th, 18:30: The journey begins. As I was scattered with all the good byes and too many last drinks, I never did actually get everything packed. Literally throwing the last of my belongings in boxes, watching my friends walk away carrying garbage bags, and boxes of my life; the emotions were under control and I was feeling good about being on the road. Dropping off Gambit was one of the hardest I've ever done, but I know he's in good hands, and there's comforts in that thought.
    So we are off to a rough start, as is the norm when Dee and myself travel. We got lost in Surrey of all places. I mean why are all the cars turning left? Well I'm going right... well 2 hours later we are back at the same damn intersection. Laughing at ourselves was really the only thing we can do. Big drink of the magic water that will keep us awake for the next 4 days, light a smoke, turn up the music, and we are now on the transcanada highway heading for the mountains. Ok so I must offer some sort of introduction to my relationship to Danielle aka Dee, aka Dani, aka my beautiful partner in crime. When we're in each others company nothing can stop us, and believe me everything in life tries. Like rolled over transports in the rockies at Revelstoke, the crazy mountain goats we played with on the highway, and the gas stations in the prairies not being open past 10. Yes again we ran out of gas on the road. At least this time we weren't 5000 feet up in the mountains in Oregon. We drove straight through 4 days with 15 hours of sleep, a beer in every province, some cramped sleeping in the front of the truck, some good buds to relieve the stress, way too much laughter, my body still hurts from it all. I might have forgot to mention that Dee doesn't drive. Finally we pulled into Hearst to visit my great aunt. Saying a final farewell to her since she's not doing so well, I let the tears fall calmly. I needed to face these emotions at some point, I was just not prepared for it. A few hours to home, and I can feel the energy flowing, carrying me that last leg of the trip to some home cooked meals, a bed, and my loving family. Time is treating them all well, they haven't changed and I love them more then words can express. The party begins, the conversation doesn't end, and the bellies are stuffed with food made with so much love you can taste it, I'm finally home. The visit is short, I still have another 9 hours to Hamilton to drop off Dee, but not before we close a bar in Timmins. Of course it's the G.V. and did we ever close it with style. Now with the worst hang over we leave to drive south. We need to get there for another night of partying with Dee's friends and family. Rolling into Hamilton we head straight to the bar for Motown night. Absynth the old Hudson, I haven't been here for years, but the Jager flows, the beer tastes great and the rum and cokes leave me in dancing mode. I need some sleep... Not tonight though, from a house party to my temp home here, were all drunk and living it up. Smoke a joint, crack the crown royal, now it's on. Really on. Waking up with another bad hang over was only comforted by the lazy day ahead of me. Heads a blur, last night was wild, and I behaved like never before. Dee I didn't hit on your baby sister, and didn't knock out your friend Mark when he shoved me out. I should win an award for that!
    Now the journey has really begun, and there's no stopping it. Not that I would for anything in the world right now. Lovin' the feeling right now.
Until the next daze.
peace,
-k