Coatepec + Xico + Veracruz

"Tug" :: Veracruz, Mexico (c) 2011 Skip Hunt

Coatepec + Xico + Veracruz

Arriving in Coatepec just felt right. I don't know why. It was raining, a bit chilly and I spent over two hours trudging around in a misty rain looking for a cheap room. Time after time I was sent on a wild goose chase with clear directions of "go two streets, then turn left, then go three more streets, then just around from the church go down the side road." It's always possible that I simply wasn't understanding the Spanish, but dang it... I had them repeat a couple times to make sure I had it right. Then I'd get there and there'd be nothing resembling what I'd told about. That's the way the tortilla rips in Mexico though. Often someone instead of just saying they don't know, will send you on your way with fantasy directions. And, then sometimes you just get it wrong.

Even still, I was really happy to be there. Like I said, it just felt right and I was getting that odd, familiar deja-vu-like feeling that I'm beginning to believe is pure intuition and not some brain chemisty misfire. ;-)

I have been there once before, but for only about an hour and a half. I remember exactly where I went and what I did, but didn't stay. However, the hotel room I had was VERY familiar. It had this aluminum box above the headboard with a switch. When I touched it I got shocked. When I tried to flip it's switch I got shocked again. That same scenario in that very same room felt like a distinct recollection.

The cafe La Estacion I drank coffee in felt extremely familiar and the owner I made friends with, Gustavo, seemed like someone I've known before as well. Even the time spent hanging out with Gustavo at his family's coffee production warehouse and shooting video about the process from coffee plant to pouring into a cup seemed like I'd done it before. Or, at least dreamed it.

So strange.

The old fellow I paid at the hotel didn't seem too friendly so I went looking for another room that would be less expensive. I found a place the night before that a middle-aged Mexican man with a tracheotomy told me I could get a room for $80 pesos. They were full and he said to come back in the morning.

The next morning I went there to check it out and he hooked me up with a Mexican woman who explained that I could indeed have a room for $80 pesos, less than half what I was paying with the grumpy old man. The only catch was that they only had cold water. I said fine, I can deal with that.

Then she tells me to come back at 8pm. She explained that I could only have the room from 8pm to 8am, and then I'd have to leave the room. I told her I wanted a room for 2-3 days and I'd pay up front. She said that was fine, that I could move my stuff out of the room for the day and then back into the same room or another one the next night at 8pm.

I asked, "Wait a minute, I can't leave my things in the room?" She said no. I then asked, "Well, can I at least hang out in the room during the day?" She said I could not because the rooms were used for "work" during the day.

I just stood there trying to figure out what all this meant. Soon, middle-age Mexican woman sauntered up with an older dude in his middle 70's. They were given a roll of toilet paper, a key, and told room number 3. They shuffled off to the room and I asked the woman, "Hey, you just gave them a room... why can't I have one during the daytime as well?" She answered, "Because they are only going too use the room for an hour and a half."

Then, the lightbulb finally went off. "Ahhhh! You mean these rooms are used for women and men to...." She smiled, "Yes, that's what they're for. We rent them by the half hour during the day."

I had a pretty good left and decided I'd stay put at the grumpy old man's place. At least I knew my room wouldn't be used during the day. ;-)

So much was just so nice about Coatepec. Not just that strange feeling of familiarity. Most of the people I met were friendly and helpful. It had a small town feel with great scenery all around. Neighboring Xico is much the same with some amazing waterfalls you can hike around. I even found myself asking around about what average rents go for there and could easily see myself spending more time there at some point.

An easy 30min bus ride, a 15min taxi ride, and then an easy 2hr bus ride and I was at the old Port city of Veracruz where I am now.

This is my third time here and I know my way around. I've got a feeling of familiarity that you'd expect from a place you'd been before, but it's different. It doesn't have that alien flavor. Just feels like I've returned to a place I've been before. That feeling in Coatepec was different and hard to describe.

The part of Veracruz I'm staying in is a bit dirty, sooty, uncomfortably humid, the men mostly look like they're drunk most of the time. The women in general look a bit looser than other places in Mexico. And no one is very friendly. Folks walk a bit slower here and don't stand quite a erect. It's as if they're always beaten by the climate or something.

The feeling I get here is that something nasty or the potential for trouble is always lurking down some decaying alleyway. The fragrance of mildew, dead fish, coffee and tacos wafts through the air, and few are willing to be troubled to even say hello.

You might ask why I would willfully come back a third time to a place like this. And, you'd be asking a good question. Why am I subjecting myself to this sort of torment? Well, the best I can describe is that something feels unsafe about the place. It keeps me paying attention and looking over my shoulder. Wouldn't want to live here, but the muse is strong here. Sort of a haunted enchantment.

Just off one of the points is an island with a lighthouse. It's said that Spaniards first encountered this island and found some ancient stone architecture with some evil-looking statues. There was an altar covered in blood and 4-5 indians sacrificed with their chests split open and their arms and legs all cut off. They claimed the walls were covered in blood.

I think it's called something like Sacrifice Island or something like that. As I strolled the malecon that stretches for miles and miles all the way to a more modern part of Veracruz with manicured lawns and exclusive condos, I thought about that island.

Once it represented horror from some poor indian, and now it's nothing more than a quaint ornamental hunk of land housing a lighthouse. My imagination started to take hold and I could feel that fear still in the salty air.

Last night I set out just wandering aimlessly and ended up in a very questionable part of town. I think during the day it's just a commercial area with some warehouses some meat processing, but at night it was completely different.

The butcher's stench mixed with wafts rising from the sewers intertwined with the smell of dead fish only added to the already eerie quality the blackened streets imposed. As I walked I'd hear people stirring partly inside boxes to keep the wind off and you could hear drunkards wailing in the damp alleyways.

I rounded a corner and noticed at least 40 soldiers and 3 military vehicles with 50 calibre machine guns mounted on roll bars. The men all had black masks and were almost completely silent other than the soft scuffing of military boots scrambling on the pavement. They looked at me casually strolling through and I wasn't sure what to do. After a brief pause I figured the best course was to just keep moving and a normal pace. The soldiers made hand signals of the SWAT team sort to get one group to advance around some corner and another group to advance through a warehouse doorway. They motioned to me to be quiet as I nervously picked up my pace a bit.

About 3 blocks later I found the taco stand I'd been looking for. There hadn't been any sounds of violence or weapons firing, but I mentioned it to the fellas at the taco stand. They told me that's normal and that they're just looking for drugs, mostly cocaine. I asked if it was dangerous to be walking through there and they said as long as I'm not carrying any drugs it's not. At most they might ask for your papers and search you, but really nothing at all to worry about. They all acted like it was as normal as a mailman making his rounds.

After a few tacos I meandered over toward the main plaza or zocalo. There were dozens of mariachis milling about and breaking into song off and on when a patron sitting in patio cafes would buy a song. Sometimes several different songs by different troupes would be going all at the same time. Sort of a mega-stereo effect especially when you factor in the echo off the cathedral nearby.

My mind was still fixated on trying to find structure within the cacophony of sound when I notice a pretty woman staring at me. Still distracted, I figured I'd say something with hopes she'd look elsewhere. I said, "Buenos noches" to her and she quickly replied in Spanish. It took me a couple beats to figure out what she said even though it was only about 5 words, "Let's go to the hotel."

I thanked her for the suggestion and kept on moving. I did wonder as I continued to slowly wander back towards my hotel room, just how much it would be. If she's there tonight and I happen to walk a similar route, I may just have to at least ask what such services go for in this city. Only for research purposes of course.

Today I spent mostly zig-zigging from decaying city block to the next. At first I kept holding myself back from what I really wanted to make images of. I kept telling myself, "Stop shooting this abstract, textural stuff! You're getting repetitive and people likely want to see images of people or anything else other than what you keep doing."

Then I asked myself, "Why am I making these images? To answer some inner call to record what transfixes my real attention? Or, am I trying to guess what I think other people would like to see?" A half a moment later I couldn't believe I had to even ask the question at all. So off I went to shoot pretty only textures, line and color that happened to command my attention for one reason or another.

This city has already worn me down to the point that I wished I'd already left. This is my third time here and I remember getting this same feeling each time after only about 3 or 4 days. And at the same time, I know that I'll be back. Perhaps one day I'll actually figure out what keeps pulling me here time and again. It's almost as if there's some forgotten memory I'm trying remember or something that must be completed here before I can let it go. Like I said before, sort of a haunted enchantment.

The bus toward Tampico doesn't leave until tomorrow night so I've got at least another 24 hours here to crack the mystery or at least get a bit closer to the Veracuzana muse who's bewitched me so.

Audio Phone Blog in Veracruz HERE

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