Curiosity Roving : V.9 : Mi Barrio Loco
Curiosity Roving
The Grand Adventures of L Rose Goossen
V.9 : Mi Barrio Locoin which the bliss detective probes a mystery
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Greetings and Salutations!
And welcome to the ninth volume of Curiosity Roving. I thank you kindly for your attention. To my new subscribers, a special ¡hola! from me to you. I've recently surpassed the landmark number of 100 people who are now loosely following my happy trails; just a number, I know, but it is meaningful to me, so thank you for dropping your 0.943% in my little bucket today. If you'd like to get all caught up on exactly how I have chosen to exuberantly squander my time and money since June of 2019, and exactly what I've been learning from that, you have the option to review my archive: https://tinyletter.com/curiosity_roving/archive
In the time since my last letter, I have enjoyed my first Mexican holiday barbecue in the company of a town's entire police force, honoured the birth of Christ by smuggling a surreptitious fruitcake into the nicest hospital I've ever seen, hustled the New Year adelante while dancing all night at a wicked street party where I found the people with the most alcohol and swiftly applied my social skills, passed the first day of the year held hostage by heavy and unseasonal rains that turned the surrounding dirt roads to thick mud, witnessed the wolf moon sporting a moon dog and endured the din of a small pack of small puppies as they howled at the same, survived my first close encounter with a real live scorpion that made an enigmatic cameo appearance on my bedroom ceiling only to, disturbingly, disappear, and settled in to another temporary home in another strange iteration of paradise, where the landlord is a retired rodeo clown, and the neighbour trains the dancing ponies.
welcome to the neighbourhoodI am writing to you today from San Francisco, Nayarit, Mexico, which is locally known as San Pancho. For anyone who has been reading since Volume Seven, this is an appropriate time to have a chuckle at how, in four months, I've only managed to go from one San Francisco to another. I'm only one wall away! It would seem that the patron saint of animals and I might have a bone to pick, if only I could remember where I buried that.
meet the neighboursFor now, circumstances have conspired to keep me here, and I am glad. There is a kind of magic in making oneself available, and it often results in being relieved of the necessity to make decisions. As my nautical antecedents and the Queens of the Stone Age might say, I can go with the flow. In the case of this particular tributary, I came to San Pancho at the invitation of my old friend and mentor Paco Despacio, the world's naughtiest buttonsmith, who, upon my arrival, immediately suffered a dramatic medical crisis, and has been in a slow process of recovery ever since. So, I have stayed, and thus, the star of this letter is the idiosyncratic little pueblo that he wished to show me.
over the river and through the woodsSan Pancho was a sleepy backwater town of subsistence farmers and fishermen until the 1970s, when el presidente Luis Echeverria decided to use it as the site of his holiday home. He took a special interest in the village, with a vision to develop it into a "model town" which would be complete and self-sufficient, and could be held as an shining example the world over. He introduced roads and electricity, built a hospital, a school, and a museum, and upgraded the infrastructure of the major industries. He christened the town's main street Tercer Mundo, which means Third World, and all the side streets in honour of developing nations. Then he ruined the Mexican economy, left the country, and abandoned the project, which quickly collapsed. San Pancho ate the poison apple and went back to sleep.
familiar territory
hallowed hallsMusic is everywhere. All of the bars and restaurants employ performers, and a saunter down Tercer Mundo by twilight could land you deep in two-chord reggae loops accompanied by cajon and banana shaker, or hip-hop beats with electric violin and intergenerational breakdancing, or anything in between. I attended the local Nomad Festival on a Saturday night and a six-piece band from Guadelajara served stomping Balkan rhythms for party people until the wee small hours of the morning. On Sundays, the local taiko drummers rehearse in my backyard and sometimes, there's a brass band on the beach.
special guestsAnd yes, there's a beach, and yes, it is practically perfect in every way. San Pancho has mostly avoided major touristic development by virtue of being less accessible and subject to bigger surf than the adjacent towns, but there are some useful loungers and umbrellas provided by restaurants, hotels, and entrepreneurs, there are surfboards for rent, and there are roving salesmen hawking everything from spicy fried crickets to ten-minute massages to dreamcatchers woven with the Tree of Life. A number of these salespeople are Argentinian; they have driven all the way here and intend to continue north. One of them has written a book about the journey. Another carries a portable credit card machine that's as big as a flip phone and pink. A third brings the empanadas at sunset.
boldly forwardThe beach of San Pancho also serves as the nesting territory for a marine turtle population. The main plaza by the sand features one statue of Saint Francis and another honouring Frank D. Smith, the founder of the Marine Turtle Preservation Project, which has maintained a presence in the community for nearly thirty years, and revitalized a population that was once endangered by the human appetites for exotic delicacies and profits.
An environmental conscience can also be of use in curbing exploitative development; at the moment there are banners in the streets protesting a new condo construction, Punta Paraiso, and calling for a town that is conscious, active, and organized. As an ecological alternative to a glitzy time-share, you have the option to stay in the Project's house through AirBnb, and experience close encounters of your own with their various reptile associates. A friend recently checked in to her room at Turtle HQ and found that she would be sharing it, temporarily, with a moderate-sized boa constrictor. Saint Francis would approve.
An environmental conscience can also be of use in curbing exploitative development; at the moment there are banners in the streets protesting a new condo construction, Punta Paraiso, and calling for a town that is conscious, active, and organized. As an ecological alternative to a glitzy time-share, you have the option to stay in the Project's house through AirBnb, and experience close encounters of your own with their various reptile associates. A friend recently checked in to her room at Turtle HQ and found that she would be sharing it, temporarily, with a moderate-sized boa constrictor. Saint Francis would approve.
evening ritualIn summary, the marvellous thing about San Pancho is that it has integrated foreign influence in ways that transcend the global status quo of purely indulgent tourism, and developed a unique sense of authentic community that is accessible to residents and visitors alike. As Paco once told me, it is truly "a great place to be alive". But don't tell anyone else, okay?
Our sauce today features the man himself, broadcasting from a mechanical bed in Ixtapa.
the evolution of a buttonsmithLadies, he's single. As my first Guest Specialist, Paco is going to tell you all about how he got here and why he loves it: www.curiosityroving.com/sauce
Reader, a new year begins, and with this, I invite you to step into beginner's mind. Put aside your training. Go to a class and grapple with the fundamentals. Try a foreign language and trip on the tip of the tongue of your brain. Watch the inner animal as it runs, and softly giggle as it stumbles. Get some healthy distance from the ego-lust that fuels your so-called achievements. This life of full of surprises; who are you to anticipate them? Don't spoil the fun. Breathe a deep and cleansing sigh of relief as you slowly remember that you know nothing. And then, start again.
Until next time, stay curious. -- Rose
Appendix : Drop It Like It's Hot
I love music, and my friends make music, and lately, I get to listen to it. Here's what I'm spinnin':
These deep dark house mixes from the sparklemaster: https://soundcloud.com/natemordo/tracks
This particular tune about the lost and found service of the soul : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l275Sic3Ous
This juicy collage of electronic and organic sounds :
These tales of the deep and desperate things that men might do, written by those who would know : https://thezerofilters.bandcamp.com/album/all-at-sea-2
These hyper clean and super horny big band bangerz : https://ghostmoneyallstars.bandcamp.com/album/evening-ride
Some squiggly trancemissions from a intergalactic Nphibian : https://technophobiarecords.bandcamp.com/album/nzen7-checking-trancemissions-is-this-music
This fierce feminist from Tepic : https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLSWA0WcAdke02TYkJaR0so44wIBv95miD
This face-melting ensemble from Guadelajara : https://soundcloud.com/xiranda-oficial/albums
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