Maquiladora tour

“Sitting on a bench” by Kinsee Morlan

Taking a Maquila tour will change your life.  Click below and plan accordingly.

At last, the Tijuana bike ride

“His name is Nico” by Kinsee Morlan

I’ve been spending some alone time lately, enjoying my little Tijuana flat and getting some serious writing done. Sometimes, I let my flat become my super secret catacomb — I don’t leave for hours and hours and hours. This weekend was like that, but on Sunday morning I forced myself to get out and go for a bike ride.

Oh. My. Goodness. First off, I don’t have a helmet, which is something that will have to be fixed. You see, riding a bike in Tijuana is a bit like walking blindfolded in the middle of a freeway…while drunk. It’s crazy, dangerous and the amount of obstacles one must overcome is simply astounding.

There aren’t any bike lanes and not much sidewalk space in Tijuana, so most of the time I was riding on the road, blocking trafic and coughing from exhuast and the dust kicked up by speeding cars. When there are sidewalks, they have holes, and not just little cracks or potholes, I’m talking huge, four-feet-deep gaps where sewage grates once were. Inside these holes are piles of trash, so falling in means either certain death or certain disease.

Obstacles aside, the ride was actually pretty cool. Next time, I may consider riding down the cement covered Tijuana River. I hear that’s where the heroin addicts hang out, but how fast can a junkie run?

Do you adhere?

Whatever your opinion of Subcomandante Marcos and the Zapatista movemement, there’s one truth that remains indesputable: the indegenious people of Mexico are struggling.

Tonight, La Otra San Diego, official adherents of the Zaptista campaign, will hold a benefit concert to support that struggle.

Click below for more info:

ICE is gettin’ a little deportation-happy

A heartbreaking story about a mom searching for her mentally disabled son who she says was illegally deported from California last month came out on the AP wire today. In the story, the mom says she wants the help of U.S. authorities, which has yet to be offered. I agree. We should offer every type of assistance possible.

And even if this guy wasn’t a legal U.S. citizen, I think there should be some sort of law against deporting people with disabilities. Back when I used to park my car on the U.S. side and walk across to my home in Tijuana, just about every other day I would see ICE officials dropping off van-loads of Mexicans who had been snagged trying to cross illegally. Some were just kids as young as 15, others were old women, and they were all basically shuffled through the gate and left to fend for themselves in Tijuana, one of the most dangerous border cities in the world. Sometimes, there were human-rights groups greeting the recent deportees, handing out informational fliers and offering bottled water, but more often than not, there’s no one. Just what, exactly, is a person with disabilities supposed to do?

Have we no heart?

Can’t say no to synchronicity

On my way back to Tijuana Friday night, I came inches away from making a Chihuahua pancake. A cute little blond thing it was, and the poor little gal was shaking and shivering on the side of the road. I pulled over and picked the dog up and put her in my car, what else was there to do?

I couldn’t take the dog with me to Tijuana, though (it never would have made it back without the proper papers), so I dropped the quivering little thing off at a friend’s place. I got a few phone calls that night.

Ring one: She pooped inside.

Ring Two: She was digging up the floor and chewing things.

Ring Three: She was barking in the middle of the night.

Oops. Anyway, I drove back to San Diego early Saturday morning and — against my desire to either keep the dog or give it to another one of my friends — I took it to the Humane Society. I hope the owners figure it out, ’cause if not, the little Paris dog is gonna be back in my care. I couldn’t say no to the found-dog check-in lady….she just kept looking at me like, you’re not gonna just abandon the little dog, are you?

And plus, I was on my way to Mexico…Chihuahuas are Mexican dogs, is that a meaningless coincidence or does it mean I should keep the dog? My inner animal lover says the dog was meant to be my little Mexican companion, but my coworkers, family and friends say ‘don’t be an idiot, you KNOW you can’t take care of a dog, especially a needy little Chihuahua.’ We’ll see what I decide.

UPDATE: The owners claimed the pooch two days after I dropped her off!

Front of the line

Pictures of the border line by Kinsee Morlan

My life just got a whole lot better. This morning, at precisely 10:45 a.m., the US government issued me a Sentri pass! You San Diegans may recognize the term “Sentri” from your daily traffic report, “There’s an hour and a half wait at San Ysidro Port of Entry, and you’ve got about 15 minutes in the Sentri line.”

Oh yeah, baby. Now I’m part of the wait-for-15-minutes-instead-of-two-hours crew, and if feels good. Freedom feels damn good. So why did I wait so long? I’ve crossed with the non-Sentri holders for a year now, but I have my reasons. In fact, I have three reasons:

Making changes

Pictures of the border line by Kinsee Morlan

Cittac is a Tijuana-based organization that provides assistance and support for workers at  foreign-owned factories in Tijuana (aka Maquiladoras). Voz Alta is holding a fundraiser for Cittac tonight. Check it out:

Manu Chao, old but good

Manu Chao’s music isn’t mind blowing. The songs are far from original, leaning more toward a poppy little combo of punk rock and reggae than rythm-heavy world music, which is what it could and probably should be.

Nonetheless, the show at the Tijuana bullring in Las Playas Tuesday night was pretty damn good. Had the show gone on at the Embarcadero in San Diego as originally planned, I’m sure I wouldn’t be writing the same rave review. A San Diego Manu Chao show would have been boring. The band would have jammed out a quick, quiet set before being kicked off the stage at 9:45 p.m., minutes before Coronado’s uppity residents reached for their phones to call the noise Nazi.

Tijuana, on the other hand, came through Tuesday night with its dependable mix of fun-chaos-burgeoning-on-horrible-disaster vibe. The place was packed. Kids, mostly young kids with glossy eyes and dread heads, piled into the dusty ring right in front of the stage hours before the show started. As soon as the band bounced into the spotlight, the fleshy mass started swirling and whirling in two distinct mosh pits. My friend, a huge styrofoam tequila and coke in hand, pointed to the circles with a smile.

“They look like boobs,” he said.

I think they looked more like devilish little eyes, peering out at those of us who were either too old, too lazy or too scared to go down into the pit. A few times during the show, a shirtless dude managed to clear out his own little circle amid the chaos by wielding a huge flaming baton then sucking in karosene and breathing out a gigantic ball of fire. That shit would never fly in San Diego!

Anyway, by the third encore, I couldn’t take it anymore. My friend and I made our way to the dusty underland, pushed our way through the mosh pit and immediately got sucked in by Manu Chao’s almost tangible charisma. During the last few songs, a little studded-jacket wearing teen managed to make his way on stage. A guard eventually went after him, but Manu Chao pushed him away and let his new little friend do the standard punk dance. Elbows flying, feet stomping — it wasn’t long before two other little punks pushed their way on stage and joined the fun.

Tijuana arts & culture

Pictures of the border line by Kinsee Morlan

First of all, look up. Look at the intensity on that street vendor’s face. The guys and gals working the border line are like hawks. I swear, if you even think about sorta wanting a sliced up papaya, a vendor will sense it and be at your window with fresh papaya in less than two seconds. The non-verbal communication going on in the line is phenomenal.

Now, for some upcoming arts and culture happenings in Tijuana, click below:

El Poeta keepin’ it live

Pictures of the border line by Kinsee Morlan

Two of my favorite things: El Poeta and Radio Global. Listen up folks: http://s8.viastreaming.net:7670/listen.pls

El Poeta takes over the internet waves every Friday from noon to 2 p.m.

Radio Global is a Tijuana-based online radio station and production company that’s behind so much of what’s cool in TJ.