THURSDAY JANUARY 12, 2017
I've arrived in Puerto Escondido still bruised and sad. Twelve hours plus of travel from LA and two stops a long the way. The first of which was in Guadalajara where I needed to pass through customs. I went and put a sandwich in the trash can because it had been in my suitcase that was too close to the ground for too long, and I had no appetite besides.
When I went to the carousel to claim my other suitcase a giant uniformed police man walked up to me. Meanwhile his black dog, also heavily uniformed, took an extreme interest in my belongings. I explained to the police man that I'd until very recently been carrying food in the front pocket of that suitcase. This for some reason made him angry. He told me to get on the ground and open the bag. I shrugged and did so, whereupon his dog began wagging its tail and licking my face. Then the dog jumped up and placed its paws on my shoulders. Confused and embarrassed, the man told me I could close the bag. I did. He walked away, pulling the dog with him.
I made it through customs with no problems, took another plane to Mexico City, and then a smaller one with two propellers to Puerto Escondido. There I walked in the warm sea breeze from the runway to the small building that is the airport, claimed my bags again, and quickly found a cab to La Punta where my apartment is.
It's hot here. I sit on my patio drinking beer, smoking the last of my American Spirit cigarettes. The sun sets slowly, and I hope that in a few more sunsets, I'll have let go of my troubles, and am left only with whatever that dog saw.