“Beautiful Destruction” by Kinsee Morlan
Broken glass and a missing orange backpack — that’s what I found a week after my car was stolen and eventually returned. Someone had decided it’d be worth bashing in my car’s back window to nab the backpack filled with dirty clothes that was sitting in the back seat.
I wanted to scream but I laughed instead. And after telling myself I was done with Tijuana and all its bullshit, I finally came to my senses and realized it wasn’t the city’s fault. I shouldn’t have left the backpack in the car. Simple as that.
Now my car has cardboard for a window and a driver’s side door that doesn’t work (battle wounds from the first robbery). It has been Tijuanized. Me? I’m not quite there yet. I’ve learned to use a steering wheel lock and never leave anything in my car. I’ve learned that sometimes people suck. But I’m not completely broken down and battered just yet.
I rode my bike through La Cacho again today and the beauty overwhelmed me. Everything is so textured here — so weathered and worn. Everywhere I look is a picture or a story with paragraphs and paragraphs of history and struggle.
I passed a broken-down public basketball park and thought about the person who pushed to get it built there. How proud she must have been when the cement finally dried and the first kid shot his orange ball through the hoop.
UPDATE: A few days after the stolen backpack incident, I went out to find that someone had broken into my car again. This time they took the car stereo. I laughed until I had to ride all the way from Tijuana to Mission Valley without the sounds of my good friend KPBS.