I begin my trip tomorrow. The bus from Sahuayo will take the highway south to Jiquilpan then turn west to go through San Jose de Gracia, south to Mazamitla, then further southwest to Tuxpan where it will then turn north and terminate in Ciudad Guzman.
I will then need to find a second bus to take me the rest of the way to Sayula.
Look around. Do you see anything at all you recognize? I thought not.
I’ve never been further on Highway 110 then Mazamitla so all the pueblas and towns from there on will be entirely new to me.
Note: I am reminded by one of my great literary mentors – Moritz Thomsen – in that I am courting disaster. Really, what am I doing ex-pating around as a senior citizen? I’m far too old for this shit.
But like him, I can’t (or won’t) go home. So then what? He died in Ecuador. And me? We’ll see.
Moritz Thomsen is a study in renounced privilege and abject denial of comfort for the more unshackled lifestyle of poverty and simplicity.
I believe it was Lillian Hellman who once said ‘ Freedom costs you a great deal.’ I’ll second that.
Regardless, tomorrow I am on the road to Sayula.
I don’t believe in coincidence. Sayula is a place that has been drawing me into its orbit for months. Knives, Juan Rulfo, Pedro Paramo, los amimas, whatever.
I sense something extraordinary.
There is no coincidence here or anywhere, merely the convergence of events.