The Personal is Political

I walked home the other night through the very cold streets of Agua Prieta. Everyone except for me had the good sense to be hiding inside, so all of my usual haunts were closed. No late night tacos, tortas, or burritos to be found, with the exception of "Taqueria In-n-out." It's open late, but it's also super expensive and excessively greasy. And they don't have guacamole. Definitely not my favorite choice, but a boy has to eat.

I stepped inside and made my order, chatting up the man behind the counter. I wouldn't call him a friend, but I recognize him and he calls me "guero." We talked a little bit more as my carne asada cooked on the grill. My spanish is always worse at night but I was making an effort. Eventually the conversation got around to the inevitable "where do you work and what are you doing here?" I explained a little bit about what I do, and then asked him where he was from.

"I spent 29 years living over there" he said.

"29 years?" I asked. "Wow, that's a lot. Why are you back here?"

This is where it always gets interesting.

"They banned me for life," he replied.

Which of course leaves me wondering which law he broke. They almost never ban people for life.

"What'd you do?" I asked.

"I was selling drugs."

And just like that the conversation was over. The point when they tell me that they were driving drunk/selling drugs/beating their wives is always the point when I get annoyed and sometimes stop talking. It's not that I'm judging them for what they did (although clearly I'm not crazy about any of those things). I get so annoyed because it just seems to justify the fence in some small way. If I were in charge of customs and immigration, I'd keep that guy out for sure.

/rant.

This one goes out to Erik and Kyle.

I can't embed this video, so just go check it out at the link. It'll make your day. Thanks to my new friend Karen for sending this to me.

Physics love.

Friday Puppy Blogging Part Two

So, as some of you now know, Meghan and I have been in the business of puppy ranching these last few weeks.

It started when Kyle and Erik came down to visit me here in AP.

One morning we were walking down our street on the way to get breakfast, when Meghan noticed a little puppy running around an abandoned lot two doors down. We went over to check it out and were greeted by four more tiny puppies living under some trash.

Erik told Kyle that he should take one back with him, which is why the infamous illegal immigrant puppy Sonora is now living happily in Ft. Collins.



Sonora in Kyle's pocket


The weather took a turn for the worse after Kyle and Erik left with Sonora, and Meghan and I were worried that the other four puppies might die. Sadly, the smallest one did die, and so we decided to bring the rest of them into our apartment and look for permanent homes.

And here are the little buggers. They only have nicknames because we didn't want to become too attached.




This is the little girl. She's secretly my favorite.


This is "Sola." She is easily one of the strangest looking dogs that I have ever seen. One eye is bigger than the other, and it also has a black ring around it. She sort of looks like a cross between a goat, a cow, and a polar bear.


And that's the little bear. He used to be a lover, now he's more of a biter.


Adorable.

We have found homes for two of them, and they will be leaving us tomorrow. I'll miss the cuddling. I won't miss the poop.

I'm counting this as a Christmas miracle.

IT'S SNOWING. Like, real flakes and stuff. I'm so excited.