El Puente Cordova, El Paso/Juarez, November 30, 2009
A rarity in this no-mans-land.
Hardship. No one is ready for it. Not man nor beast nor domicile. The aftermath will be unnavigable mud on some of the streets in Juarez: there’s always a fire from people using heaters they’re not used to using; tons of $14.95 coats will be sold on El Paso Street and Stanton Street and the various Fallas Paredes tiendas all over town; car crashes aplenty; you can bet on it. The homeless freeze. Rich people buy juniper logs for five bucks apiece to have their moment of apres ski. Everyone will adapt eventually, but by then we’ll be back in T-shirts and shorts; my loft turns to a freezer; life is anew. This is a place of the sun, not really set up for anything else.
THIS snow though, comes with a promise. Maybe it’ll be too cold and nasty to murder tonight and tomorrow. Maybe it’ll bring a day or so of peace in Juarez. Maybe the change of mood in la frontera will keep the finger off the trigger as much as it has put mine onto my shutter button. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
Maybe is hope, no?
This rare storm blows in from the west like a warm blessing whispered on a lover’s lips. For me.
I kiss you Snow.
And it teaches:
I relearn that one has to use manual focus in the snow.
I learn that I’m not bored, just done.
I learn that my little “neck of the woods,” is still rich and oozing with humanity (at least in this part of town).
I re-learn que amo a mi barrio because it is a country more than a neighborhood and I am part of it. I belong. Go figure. I belong where no one belongs! I am part of something.
I learn that Koreans have an incredible sense of humor and a super fine energy (more in the next post: tonight’s slideshow).
I learn that sometimes it takes physical jolts to make the world brighter.