Bananas

As I mentioned in my last article, I no longer reside in my country of birth. I tell the people here that my face may look Canadian but "me corazon es Mexicano".

I have felt this way since my first six month visit back in 2005, where I had left my position with a huge tech firm and sold off or gave away whatever I could not fit in my $400 (already served a year) car. It had no power anything, no air conditioning and no radio; off I go on a 6 day trek to Tulum. I had known of Tulum because of a week vacation taken with a friend prior which had me running from Cancun. 

Mexico, as the rest of the world, was different 15 years ago. And many of the places that I had seen, I would not visit again, as they have sold themselves to tourism. Tourism, I figured out prior, creates a dependency on outside forces for survival and we can now see that it can be 'turned off' but it was sure sold with a sense of 'freedom'. Freedom with dependencies, hmm?

When this 'operation' reared its ugly head a year ago, I knew that it was time to leave my country of birth and find warmer climes for what may yet 'surprise' us in this age of uncertainty. This time, the route could not be done by road but rather was limited to suitcases on an airplane; off we go, family style (the only time that I have ever worn a mask).

After securing a vehicle for our voyage, we wandered close to the city of Oaxaca. We ended up staying at a place which also housed other 'refugees' from varying countries; one seemed there simply because it was cheaper in Mexico to drink one's self to death. There are many 'reasons' for 'escape' these days. Not a great environment for a 2 year old.

As we were preparing to leave, a great example presented itself: that of 'self policing'. The owner of the place had heard that travel on the roads across states was forbidden and 'warned' us (projected fear based on ignorance) to not go. Turns out, we had no problems, but we did get distracted at a beach; town for 3 weeks.

The beach town was not a Mexican town, it was built for tourists with the help of ex-pats from around the globe. It had great food and the works for a small town and still retained it's small town charm. It also had some of the greatest people I have ever met. 

After 3 weeks, we had had enough of 'fantasyland' and went in search of our Mexican adventure towards Chiapas. After playing out my memory driven fantasy about San Cristobal de Los Casas, we spent one night and got out of that bustling city. Funny how the memory can play tricks on you.

So off we set towards the beach again, in search of warmer climes,once again. As we go, we are driving through some country roads (diverted to what we thought was a beach, not a beach) in southern Chiapas and see acre after acre of banana plantation which stretches for miles and miles. As we are driving, there is what seems to be a processing plant as a hook conveyor was taking bunches of bananas around and another conveyor was spitting out single bananas and peels and such. 

I get out of the truck and wander over to where a person is coming towards me. I greet him and we chat as I ask what this place is. He informs me that it is a Del Monte location and that the bananas (all green bunches) are for export and that the ones being spit out are not up to par.

So after staying in the region for a week, I noticed that bananas were only sold individually (not in bunches) and green ones were unheard of. It didn't take long to realize that this region gets to consume the 'rejects' of their labors unless they shop in the upscale supermarkets and not in the maskless zones of the open markets. Obedience has its rewards, you want those better bananas and sugarless breads.

Another month has passed in a beach town, this time for Mexicans, and what a difference. The food was different: no Italian food, Swiss baked goods espressos nor cheesecake. What it did have was lots of meat for breakfast with tortillas and fresh seafood at inflated prices. I thought a Mexican beach town would be more economical but they come, and they pay; there are some well off Mexicans living the big life down here. 

Life is more 'tranquilo' here, of what I have witnessed in Mexico. One does not walk about with the sense that others are glaring at your maskless face nor going to 'snitch' you out for breathing fresh air (the program has not reached here yet).  Most people here, seem to wear the mask of obedience because they believe that they 'have to'. If not there will be punishments which will affect their livelihoods. The ones which 'believe' seem to be fine with their trust in their personal protective gear. I have seen the signs which 'explain' the 'me/you' relationship of mask wearing but they are comical at best; little by little though, it enters the mind.

I have noticed, in my birth country, that the vilification of travelers is underway through the guilt, shame and indignation program. Nice to see the people there continue their obedience whist claiming to be 'informed' and happily jump on board to help 'shame' those 'defiant' tanned folks returning from a bit of 'life' in these hellish times. Sad really, how the punished would rather drag others down to their level than band together to stop the punishment.

I can see how this program can be used against the ex-pats in various countries. How easy would it be to stage a 'mass dying' of poor people which were exposed to those 'irresponsible' foreigners? What sort of mindset could you create with the proper media prodding? 

It always astounds me as to how easily the indignation is generated 'on-demand' and how completely the minds are controlled through control of the narrative. 

The 'story' must truly be important, for it is that which generates the emotion which you react to. The problem with the story is that it belongs to someone else and isn't even believable. You'd have to be bananas to believe the current tale, so I'm writing my own story. 

What's your tale?