Marcello Di Cintio

Archive for December, 2010|Monthly archive page

In progress: San Diego, Tijuana, and the bars of Tucson

In Uncategorized on December 23, 2010 at 6:33 pm

Miss Peggy, 80 year-old bartender at The Buffet

The bulk of my time along the US-Mexico border last month was spent doing research for my Walls book. However, I also managed to collect material for a few stories I am writing for Up!, the in-flight magazine of Westjet Airlines. This is much lighter fare than my walls work, but after a month among the sadness and despair of the borderlands, writing these travel stories will be a welcome relief.

My first assignment is a series of short pieces about San Diego that investigate the border-qualities of the city. The most interesting thing about San Diego, I found, was the collision and collusion between the culture of American California and the Baja south of the la ligna. I met gringo-American tattoo artists inspired by Mexican ‘Day of the Dead’ motifs, and a restaurateur who opened a fantastic gastro-cantina named El Take it Easy that serves what can be best called border cuisine. Even the San Diego Children’Museum refers to to the border in its exhibits, especially in a piece called Toy An Horse: an enormous two-headed Trojan horse looking simultaneously south to Tijuana and north to San Diego.

I am also working on a feature story about reconsidering Tijuana. The city, known as TJ by affectionate anglos, has seen a crippling reduction in cross-border tourism in the past decade or so. As a result, the locals have reclaimed Avenida Revolución, the main tourist street. Shops that used to sell sombreros and trinkets to Americans have been transformed into galleries and smart cafés for Tijuanese artists. The nightclubs that try to lure Americans with girls and cheap tequila are nearly empty, but in the old 70s-era cantinas local hipsters share the padded bartops with aging Mexican drinkers. I spent a glorious Monday night touring these cantinas with an American expat living in Tijuana, and I am looking forward to writing it all down.

Lastly, I will write a story about great character bars in Tucson. Or, more accurately, the great characters who work in Tucson’s great character bars. This story will feature Miss Peggy, the 80 year-old bartender at The Buffet; a 77 year-old barkeep named Tiger who has tended the Hotel Congress’ Tap Room for the last fifty-one years; Jim Anderson, ‘consultant’ at The Meet Rack who is a cross between a mad genius and a dirty old man (most of what he said in our interview is unprintable); and Kate Miners, also known as Madame Inga Kaboom, co-owner of The Surly Wench Pub and founder, director, and sometimes-dancer of the house burlesque troupe: Black Cherry Burlesque.

Tiger

A publisher for ‘Walls’!

In Uncategorized on December 6, 2010 at 2:56 pm

I’ve known this for a few months now, but this morning I finally signed the contracts and can now make the ‘official’ announcement: In the Shadow of the Walls -  my book-in-progress about my travels along walls, fences and barriers around the world – will be published in Canada by Goose Lane Editions.

Goose Lane showed great enthusiasm for this project and I am excited to start working with them. We are looking at a publishing date in 2012. Before then, however, I have a lot of work to do. Two more research trips . Three chapters left to write. Five chapters to edit. An introduction to figure out. I predict 2011 is going to fly by.

“Memento Mirmy” is online

In Uncategorized on December 6, 2010 at 2:38 pm

My profile on ‘rogue taxidermist’ Mirmy Winn is now online on The Walrus Magazine‘s website.

Mirmy is the Vancouver artist I met in the fall who creates  compelling work with, among other things, unloved mounted weasels and human bones. I will never forget the smell of the human skull she let me hold.

The story is here.

“Fatherhood” is online

In Uncategorized on December 3, 2010 at 11:25 am

My story about becoming a father, which I’ve mentioned ad nauseam on this blog, is now online in its entirety. Find it here.

Wall of Sadness

In Uncategorized on December 3, 2010 at 11:12 am

This afternoon I will leave America’s southern borderlands and cross the northern frontier into Canada. I am going home. My month here in southern California and Mexico has been rich in terms of research for my walls book. I haven’t done any new writing for this project in months now – I needed to gather more material – and I am looking forward to sitting at my desk in Calgary and processing all that I’ve learned here.

As I go through my notes, I realize that although the Wall inspires anger and frustration, the prevailing emotion along the Wall is grief. I’ve witnessed many tears on this trip. I watched newly captured migrants – many still in their torn crossing clothes – stand eight at a time before a judge in federal court and plead guilty to the crime of illegal entry. When they shuffled out of the courtroom, the chains that linked their ankles to their wrists rattled over their weeping.

In Nogales, at a ‘soup kitchen’ for recent deportees, a migrant family wept when they described the bravery of their nine year-old daughter as the family crossed the desert. “Have courage,” the girl told her parents. “We will make it this time.” They didn’t. Now they sit on the Mexican side of la ligna wondering if it is worth trying to cross again.

I met an undocumented woman in Tucson who cried when she told me that she couldn’t travel to Mexico to attend her father’s funeral. Leaving America would necessitate another illegal crossing and increased border security made this too risky and dangerous. The woman nearly wept again when she told me that she had explained to her three teenage children that one day they might come home from school and find their mother has been taken away to prison. “I told them that if that happens, they must continue their studies,” she said. “No matter what.” Every morning she kisses and hugs her children as if today might be the day.

Someone said to me that the Wall is a wall of hate, but maybe it is more a wall of sadness.

To the Migrants’ Shrine

In Uncategorized on December 2, 2010 at 2:22 pm

Christianity is thick on the borderlands, and I’ve spent much of my time here among people of faith. Jesuits ran the Comedor de los Migrantes in Nogales. All three of Tucson’s migration activist groups – Humane Borders, The Samaritans, and No More Deaths – originated out of faith-based groups. Mark Adams, a Presbyterian Minister, runs Frontera de Christo. He told me that his life in the borderlands changed his perception of the Christmas story. Now he sees the birth of Jesus as a migration of God from the divine to the human. (I am not a believer, but this is a compelling reading of scripture.)

The migrants themselves, being primarily Mexican, are primarily Catholic. The migrants draw on their faith to guide and protect them on their long crossings through the desert. Despite the urgency of the journey, the risks of the desert, and the cold of the night, those that cross from there to here make the time to pray.

Earlier this week I hiked one of the migrant trails with members of No More Deaths and a group of high school students. We followed our guide single file past Arivaca Lake, along the river wash, and through the thick mesquite and acacia. The pathways are ancient.  Animals first trampled into the routed into existence centuries ago, then the local Native peoples used them. Now groups of migrants, led by Mexican guides called coyotes, trod northward up these paths.

The stories of these migrations are told by the items they leave behind. We found battered backpacks abandoned on the ground. Empty tuna cans. Water bottles. A torn L.A. Dodgers jacket and a pair of discarded blue jeans. A crushed can of Red Bull. Coyotes give Red Bull to their clients when they start to fatigue, but the high levels of sugar and caffeine are dangerous for bodies weakened by the journey.

Our own journey ended where rock walls rose on both sides of the path to form a kind of protected alcove. Passing migrants had transformed a natural shelf of rock into a shrine. Migrants prayed here for a successful crossing. They hung rosaries and and prayer books and portraits of saints. The travelers lit candles here; broken glass votives littered the ground around the shrine. Migrants travel light. They carry everything they need on their backs. Yet they find space for candles to light during their journey. The implements of faith are as necessary as bottles of water and cans of food.

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