I am getting sick of San Pedro. All week is work, and the restaurant is too quiet, so nothing to do. I sit on my ass while the others play pool, occassionally I smoke a J or get offered a line by one of the locals.
Paco the boss, only thinks about money and he's going crazy. I think its all the coke, one night he holds us back for an hour just to yell at us. We are getting sick of his attiude and I am ready to quit. Oscar, one of the street artisans, is now D.J, so I dont get to play whatever I want anymore either. He came in with Willy and Tony, who were with Sheree, Marianna and Abril, the girls I'd met back in Oventik at the Zapatista party.
My house is now a treehouse.
Maceo use to occupy it but he has moved out to be with his dark american beauty of a girlfriend, so I quickly snapped it up. Maceo is a master (AND FRENCH). One of the most beautiful people I have ever met. Always sure of himself, doesnt take any shit, and only talks good about others, treats everyone great, flirts, acts, jokes, sings. I look up to him an immense ammount. He likes me, he looks after me at work, and most of all gives me some sound advice about life.
"Si quieres, puedes, y si puedes, debes!" -
"If you want to, you can, and if you can, you must!"
"Nadie me llama Pendejo, Cabron si soy, pero Pendejo nunca." -
"No one calls me an imbecile, asshole yes, but imbecile never!"
"No dejes que nadie te hable asi, todos son putos."
On Sunday I go to 'Zoola' a local hostel/restaurant to watch a movie. It's not bad but not great. On my way out I have a chat with the Israelis. I have grown a dislike for them because of their attitudes (Zoola is run by Israelis)but we finally make our peace over tea and coffee. I can now understand why so many are rude and arrogant.
I thought I hated all Israelis for a while there, but now I dont. Every story has two sides to it. I grow to like them instead.
There are two types, the ones that have just finished military service and are travelling, these are usually obnoxious and rude, like arrogant gringos, and there are the travelled Israelis, who apologize for the bahviour of their compatriots. They are very strong on their views about politics and the world. I talk about Palestine with them and learn their just as biased point of view.
The Israeli girls however, are beautiful. The sort of beauty you would cut off your right foot and kill your grandmother just to spend one night with.
Great things about San Pedro are the free movies, the chocolate, the views, the lake, the calm atmosphere, the music.
Bad thing about San Pedro is, you soon get sick of it all.
Emmanuel appears on Monday while I'm on my way to work, he's the punker with the mix tapes from San Cris. He had all his stuff stolen back in the hostel and is now travelling with a Californian gal called Jenny who just got a job at Nirvana, another bar and one of Freedoms main competitors.
I often go back there after work with Angelica, (the sexy pierced italian girl). She is also a firedancer and artisan and puts on shows every second night in the Nirvana patio. We like each other but don't have much to talk about.
One night we all get pissed watching a drum show and go to the rocks afterwards to smoke and talk. One of Angelicas friends, a crazy American girl, goes swimming in the darkness and cuts herself up pretty badly on the way back up, but she doesn't realize because she's so drunk.
Emmanuel soon gets sick of San Pedro and wants to make a move, and I resolve to go with him. But we have to stall a week while Jenny makes some money, so I continue to work as well. In the meantime we climb the mountain, this is my second time. At the top we have a peace pipe and it tastes great. The sky begins to pour down rain on our return and we get soaked. My shoes are full of and covered with mud. I borrow one of Jenny's hoodies and watch a movie at D-Noz while I dry myself. Lucas is there, he's a German also working at Nirvana, we hang out.
The week is up and it's time to leave. My final night at Freedom is brilliant.
Mateo, a little French rapper who is divine light all around, and talented too, has formed a band with my housemates Julio and David called 'Ojos de Cangrejo', or 'Crabs Eyes' in English. The name is bad, but they are good. They absolutely fire the place up and the bar goes crazy. I am running around getting drinks out while dancing and singing along. I have a freestyle rap during one of the songs and two Canadian girls are impressed. I shout them a beer.
Mike and Cecilia are dancing their asses off. Maceo and Omar get up on the bar and swing off the rafters howling for more, this is the best night Freedom has had since I got there. Paco is all coked up like usual and shouting 'Freedom! Freedom! Freedom' into the microphone whenever he gets the chance. He is in a good mood however, and shouts me a glass of his finest rum, I tell him I'm leaving tomorrow, he says it's fine.
We sing and dance the night away, it is a good goodbye.
