¡TURISTA LIBRE BLOG!

Yo ♥ Mulege

2012-01-23T12:33:00.000-08:00

Hidden in what's literally a palm forest in the middle of the desert some 1,100 kilometers down the Baja peninsula, an oasis kept alive thanks to its location on an inlet of the Sea of Cortez, is the town of Mulege (Moo-lay-hay).

I'd been antsy to visit Mulege for years, ever since I learned that its vacant beaches and turquoise waters are the go-to spring break spot for Baja Californians looking to escape the annual migration of gringos gone wild that once roared into Tijuana and Rosarito. Since then I've harbored a puppy obsession with Mulege and its remoteness, some 15 hours down the road.

And why wouldn't I? Oasis? Vacant? Beaches? Turquoise waters? Fifteen hours down the road? Who cares if spring break is still two months away?

I live by a beach in Tijuana, but it's not really what you'd call an oasis. Unless by oasis you mean flourishing mounds of trash, dirty diapers and empty Coke bottles left by picnicking families that manage to haul half the kitchen out to the sand and somehow think the aftermath will drive itself to the city dump. And all the deported cholos with tattooed scalps and lifeguards that usually mistake any swimsuit shorter than oversized board shorts to be underwear and an affront to their masculinity make it anything but vacant. The deported cholos with tattooed scalps have been pretty cool with me and my nontraditional beach attire thus far, I should say.

Before the arrival of the transpeninsular highway in 1971 the only way to reach Mulege was by boat or prop plane. Prisoners in the town jail were permitted to come and go during the day, allowing them to hold jobs and eat meals at home with their families (not to mention relieving the jail of having to provide facilities for conjugal visits). If anyone happened to break the sunset curfew, every man was in for a mandatory manhunt. There's little incentive to attempt escape when doing so will most likely leave you dead, either in the desert or at the hands of your fellow inmates who were out chainganging it all night to find your sorry ass.

The minutes I wound up spending in Mulege proper were actually few. And judging by the absence of traffic both auto and foot, it seems that's exactly what the locals do. On the way in at dusk I was around long enough to lap the labyrinth of narrow one-ways -- 15 blocks in total, maybe -- until finding the town's lone supermarket for supplies. There, I learned the deli man doubles as the pueblo's overlord of pirated videos when some bulbous woman almost knocked me out of her way while I was ordering cheese to see if he had any new DVDs for sale, which he did.

On the way back north, trying to shoot for a little one-on-one time with Mulege before heading home after the week on the beach, I did all I could to stretch the exploring. My scouting efforts wound up taking me by a few hotels, two pharmacies, the beer dispensary, a couple of boarded-up ice cream shops, the tiniest Pemex station I've ever seen, the post office, city hall and the police station (all of which I'm pretty sure were located in the same building).

And just when I was beginning to regret not making enough time to park myself at some corner bar where I would no doubt find a grizzled man with a mustache who'd fill me in on the ins and outs of his oasis hideaway, there it was. Up at the top of a hill reachable only by wa of a narrow road that nearly dips into a ravine. Something to curb my incessant tourist pangs. The Santa Rosalía de Mulegé mission.

Construction began in 1754 and was finished in 1767, nine years before we gabachos even signed the Declaration of Independence. It's supposedly the crash site of a ship that was carrying Jesuit priests from Sonora to Loreto, another 200 kilometers south of Mulege, who of course took their safe landing at Mulege as a sign from God to open yet another franchised chain of Catholicism to the Cochimi people. And voila. A town is born. Only to be abandoned in 1828 because of the dwindling population. (The current count, according to the sign at the entrance to town, is 3,111.)

Per the placard outside the church: "At the end of the 18th century, Mulegé had scarcely 100 people. Nevertheless, in the 19th century, a new generation was born who faced adversities and showed bravery and heroism during the 1846-1848 war with the United States. Therefore, Mulegé is a beloved place in southern California, from where the rise of the Mexican Nation was made possible."

It's not often a North American, especially an Anglophone, finds himself in a place where land travel to the outside world wasn't possible until only 40 years ago. Forget the fact that it's also home to a structure nearing its 250th birthday. That's the real irony of Mulege. Once upon a time horses trotted down the stone road outside that church. Now, trucks carrying potato chips and propane tanks zoom by. Maybe one day they'll fly.

Distance from Tijuana: 1,000 kilometers.

Gustave Eiffel's Mexican house of God

2012-01-22T10:04:00.000-08:00

Word that the metal Catholic church buried some 900 kilometers south of the border in Santa Rosalia, a 19th century French colonial mining town, was designed by Gustave Eiffel (yep, of the Eiffel Tower Eiffels) set off a fit of unquenchable architectural fantasies, and as if I had fallen for some provincial, visaless mail-order bride after only seeing a photo, I would have to go to her.

The wise pilgrim would avoid an underwhelming visit by prepping for not Notre Dame or Sagrada Familia but the simple aesthetics of Eiffel's Baja legacy, a prefabricated structure that in other contexts would be brushed off as an aluminum barn. Its design looks to be about as noteworthy as a Monopoly house from the outside, but once through the doors you realize the tulip-shaped etching on the facade isn't merely decorative but actually forms the shape of the interior and probably provides some sort of insulation from the sun's heat (this is the desert and we are in a metal church, after all). The stained glass windows give off a soft purple glow, which actually goes really nicely with all the gold lame the parishioners have hung all over the place.

But according to Angela Gardner, an American architecture student who apparently investigated the church's history extensively, Eiffel was never known to design prefabs anyway. She credits Bibiano Duclos, a Brazilian who graduated from the same Parisian academy and actually registered a patent for prefabricated buildings.

Nevertheless, the plaque hanging alongside Saint Barbara's front door credits Eiffel and so the fairytale lives on. Constructed in France in 1887 and on display in Paris alongside the tower in 1889, it was disassembled and destined for Africa but somehow got lost along the way in Belgium and was shipped to Santa Rosalia in 1895. Or so the story goes.

The church was just a piece of Santa Rosalia's hasty assembly, which happened nearly overnight after the discovery of copper deposits led French mining company El Boleo to settle the area in 1884. Its uncommon mix of Mexican and European architecture make it one of 56 historic preservation sites in Mexico, the only in Baja California Sur. Some 30 buildings -- including the Mahatma Gandhi public library, city hall and the original Boleo headquarters, which now houses a museum -- are protected historic structures, and the locals are pushing for the town to join Zacatecas, Puebla and Morelia as a UNESCO world heritage site.

You feel like you're in the middle of the mountains even though you're only a few blocks from the the coast, and if it weren't for the paved streets and the nightly parade of cars around the town center on Fridays and Saturdays it's as though you've tripped into some Mexican rendition of "Back to the Future 3" whose color scheme took inspiration from a bag of Skittles. And at times you really can't help but feel as though you shouldn't be in public sans hoop skirt, matching parasol and some frigid chaperone named Madame Hortense.

Agenda: Load up on bread, the local culinary celebrity, at Panaderia El Boleo on the main drag. Lap the four or five blocks that make up the historic downtown district with the camera. Watch townie kids jump their bikes off a ramp they've rigged out of pallets and plywood in the zocalo and take a photo in front of the nearby 1886 Baldwin locomotive. Visit the history museum in the old Boleo building, ooh and aah over the antique office furniture and give the eager historian the time of day because he knows things -- random things, noteworthy things -- such as Santa Rosalia being the first town in Latin America to receive a telephone line. Inquire in the new Boleo offices about T-shirts for sale. Light a candle at the Virgen de Guadalupe shrine behind St. Barb's to protect you from flat tires, busted oil pans and any and all travel woes. Bum free wifi while beering up on the patio at the restaurant across the street from the Gandhi library. Announce to the world that this gringo is going off the grid for a few days and saddle up for Mulege, just an hour down the road.

Distance from Tijuana: 938 kilometers.

Guerrero Negro lighthouse

2012-01-21T12:06:00.000-08:00

Hello, Guerrero Negro. Everyone back home says you're pretty forgettable. Bypassable, even. Is that so?

Agenda: Avoid being nearly T-boned by a northbound semi while photographing the "Bienvenidos a Baja California Sur" sign at the state line in the dark. Set clock ahead an hour. Find the hotel to least likely to smell like snuff, El Caracol (550 pesos a night), one of the first you pass after leaving the freeway to head into town. Guard the TV remote ever so preciously; aside from the sheets it's the only thing standing between you and your 100 peso deposit. Make out with six-pack of Indio. Pass out.

In the morning, ask the coffee girl if she perhaps knows where to find a promising lookout point on the coast for southbound whales. Ignore her daggerly stare that screams, "Do I look like a fucking tour guide?"

Follow the Faro Viejo signs through town and 20 minutes west down a dirt road, past the Brave New World windmill, across the bay, technically back into Baja California Norte without even knowing it and out to the old lighthouse. Bask in its Athenian crumble. Ponder the possibility of swimming to the salt beds on the horizon.

Refuel. Carne asada torta at a restaurant called Cowboy. Fried egg upgrade. Back to the road. Santa Rosalia, allí te va.

Kilometers from Tijuana: 727.

Transpeninsula Mexico 1

2012-01-20T20:44:00.000-08:00

For more than four years I've been undergoing intense fronterization in Tijuana but the farthest I've managed to wander down the Baja peninsula is San Felipe, just a couple hours south of Mexicali.

Here I am, on the tip of one most unique ecosystems on the planet, a narrow runway of harsh desert splitting the Pacific and the Sea of Cortez where the only obstacle separating the tepid Gulf of California from the massive waves of the world's largest swimming pool are a few hundred kilometers of mountains, valleys, deserts and forests. This is an environmentalist's ultimate playground, the bacon strip of the Western Hemisphere's bikini wax, and I'm an ass for ignoring it as long as I have.

That said, the New Year bucket list called for a premature spring break in Mulege, some 15 hours and more than 1,000 kilometers down the Transpeninsular Highway, aka Mexico 1, territory that up until 40 years ago was accessible only by plane or boat.

South of Ensenada the road is mostly two lanes that aside from a few clusters of bends and the occasional hairpin turn are mostly straightaways. It's excessive with speed bumps but decently paved and fully accessible to not just monster trucks. Aside from horses and donkeys chewing stuff on the side of the road, much of the terrain is still sparsely populated, and understandably so. After a while it's easy to see why anyone who lives out here would savor their solitude. Nothingness is addictive. Or at least easy to fall for, as the photos from the drive prove.

The game plan:

Day 1: Tijuana to Guerrero Negro, just over the Baja California Sur state line about 700 kilometers south along the coast. Day 2: 200 kilometers across the peninsula to Santa Rosalia, a colonial French mining town that's home to a 19th century church designed by Gustave Eiffel of Eiffel Tower fame, then on to Mulege and finally Playa El Requeson, just south of Mulege, where for the next four nights home will consist of a tent on an empty beach sandwiched between a saguaro battalion and water the color of mouthwash.

3 meals and a bar in Tijuana

2012-01-19T12:44:00.000-08:00

Each month Urbanist asks folks they consider their "favorite San Diegans" (and sometimes the occasional Tijuanense) the question: If you only had 24 hours to show a friend the best that urban San Diego (and sometimes urban Tijuana) has to offer, where would you take them? Taking the reigns for January is Turista Libre.

On the menu: huevos a la toña at El Yogurt Place, a huge cup of raw sealife swimming in Clamato at Mariscos El Cholo, mole pizza at El Taller and a Victoria caguama at Dragon Rojo.

Sadly, a cap on the word count led to having to edit out details on El Cholo's clandestine beer operation, no doubt an essential perk about the place, and the mom grinding in her Hanes Her Ways at Dragon Rojo, which was only mentioned to illustrate the circus of randomness happening anywhere and everywhere, always, that is Tijuana plus booze.

Read TL's three meals and a bar here.

New wheels

2012-01-18T14:20:00.000-08:00

Como son los mexas para los gringos

2012-01-17T13:37:00.000-08:00

Southside commentary on the new border fence

2012-01-16T22:37:00.000-08:00

It's been about a month since the new border fence went up, permanently dividing what was once one of the world's few binational parks. Here, loved ones separated by immigration status were able to see each other face to face and families would often picnic backed up against the posts.

The replacement wall stands three feet north of the actual border and now blocks U.S. access to a historic monument the two nations once shared.

Bigger, badder, taller and thicker than its wobbly-looking predecessor, as far as border barriers go it would no doubt be the Hulk or Chyna or the Hulk played by Chyna or something. A new addition: a layer of hardcore chicken wire made of thick centimeter-sized mesh, making the transfer of anything that outsizes a chicle impossible. Seriously, all that's missing are loudspeakers blasting the "Team America" theme song into the air.

Workers finished installing the westernmost stretch just over 30 days ago. And the graffiti went up almost immediately. In a fitting blow of irony, the prose is impossible to see from the American side.

"Viva NAFTA. Aqui es donde rebotan los sueños (this is where dreams ricochet). Welcome to fortress America. Osama rocks. Which way to freedom? Lesson in how to lose friends and alienate neighbors. Everything is under control. Enjoy your security, America. This wall will not save your economy. Todos los muros caen; los imperios tambien (All walls fall; empires, too). Empires crumble from within."

And my personal fave: "Please don't feed the gringos."

Spare chair

2012-01-05T18:51:00.000-08:00

This lonesome hybrid tire-seat isn't just wishful thinking; it's fully functional playa furni. The next day I found the man who I'm assuming is its engineer and rightful owner atop his throne, staring at the waves.

Usually when I see men in cages they're kissing each other and I'm throwing pesos at them

2012-01-04T20:29:00.000-08:00

Proximamente | Coming soon

2012-01-03T12:43:00.000-08:00

Tickets. Tickets. Tickets. Tickets. Tickets. Tickets. Tickets. Tickets. Tickets. Tickets. Tickets. Tickets. Tickets.

Speedy Gonzalez

2012-01-02T10:56:00.000-08:00

¡Es la hora, es la hora!

2012-01-01T00:00:00.000-08:00

Random photo: My 13th birthday (random, right?)

2011-12-26T20:17:00.000-08:00

¡¡¡Happy Navidad de Turista Libre!!!

2011-12-25T00:00:00.000-08:00

Bethlehem Barbie

2011-12-24T12:46:00.000-08:00

In Tijuana, you don't swerve over to the side of the road at 3 a.m. on Christmas Eve to take a photo of just anything.

Only for Kodak moments comparable to what from afar looks like a little voodoo garden growing in the median, like this one across the street from Santa Maria Estrella del Mar Church in Playas.

I had stumbled upon not just Bethlehem Barbie but her entire extended sect of family, friends and neighbors, a Smurfy village of no fewer than 30 plus one extremely wide-eyed Sailor Moon. All planted in front of tiny plywood housing, redressed in handmade Bible garb, plastic arms aimed at the heavens in touchdown pose, eagerly awaiting the birth of Bebe Chuchito.

This is surely a time-honored Playas tradition that has gone up every year for many a number of years. But it was new for me.

And it was like walking into a nightmare. Complete with looped MIDI rendition of "Jingle Bells."

Turista Libre in the Washington Post

2011-12-19T17:20:00.000-08:00

Costarring in Sunday's Washington Post travel section, an ode to reconsidering Mexico as a tourist destination in light of all that's gone down in the ongoing game of cops and narcos in recent years, was none other than Turista Libre. A recount of our retro-themed trek to the roller rink in January, specifically.

"I’m feeling a little ridiculous standing here in my ’70s-era hotpants and ironic sweatband, shivering in front of a roller-skating rink on the east side of Tijuana. What business does a gringa like me have here, miles away from downtown’s erstwhile tourist street, Avenida Revolucion, dressed like a reject from a Jane Fonda workout video?

"Luckily, I’m not alone. About three dozen other preposterously dressed Americans, all in their 20s and 30s, come spilling out the door of the bus behind me — the women in leotards and legwarmers, the men in track shorts with striped athletic socks stretched over tattooed calves.

"The last one off the bus is a handsome blond in red short-shorts and a silver lamé jacket. He is our tour guide, Derrik Chinn, a blue-eyed 30-year-old former journalist from Ohio who now makes his living showing groups of curious gringos like us how to experience Tijuana as the Tijuanenses do, with trips to the local water park, a lucha libre (Mexican wrestling) match or, in our case, to the Patines de Plata roller rink, where every Friday is retro night.

"Chinn, who calls his business Turista Libre, motions for the entrance and yells, '¡Turistas, vamos!' We follow him inside, where Salt-N-Pepa’s “Push It” blasts over the stereo system and a disco ball rains its polka-dot shimmer onto the few dozen teenagers circling the rink, some bashfully holding hands in nervous anticipation of the couples’ skate. I give the place a quick scan. No sign of narco henchmen, so I beat a quick path to the skate-rental counter, lace up my size ocho quads and join my bespandexed compatriots out in the rink."

Read it all here.

Rainy day cinematics

2011-12-18T14:54:00.000-08:00

The Mexification of Donald Duck | Disney's 1944 'The Three Caballeros'

2011-12-17T12:48:00.000-08:00

TL one of San Diego Magazine's '50 People to Know in 2012'

2011-12-16T11:19:00.000-08:00

Knowing all 50 of San Diego Magazine's "50 People to Know in San Diego 2012" requires -- surprise -- coming to Tijuana:

"Who would have thought touring San Diego foodies around Tijuana would become big business? Not many people, including Derrik Chinn who runs TJ tour company Turista Libre. But after two years of word-of-mouth marketing and local blog buzz, the former SignOnSanDiego reporter was quoted in a New York Post article on the burgeoning Tijuana food scene. Then The New Yorker called about a similar story. And The Washington Post. Today, his weekend tours through hipster brew pubs, kitschy boutiques, and world-class restaurants are packed with San Diegans looking to learn about the local flavor of TJ, far off the beaten path of Avenida Revolution.

"On just saying no to the obvious on his tours: 'No tequila-chugging contests, no donkey shows, no gringo stereotypes. That makes all the difference, because for a few hours they're living as a local in a city that was essentially built for tourists.'"

Meet the other 49 here.

TL + AMF Tijuana Xmas party! Saturday! Band preview!

2011-12-15T13:07:00.000-08:00

Tickets. Tickets. Tickets. Tickets. Tickets. Tickets. Tickets. Tickets. Tickets. Tickets. Tickets. Tickets. Tickets.

Petition to save the Caliente mural, a historic piece of vintage TJ in SD

2011-12-14T11:00:00.000-08:00

Per the petition (which you can and should sign here):

Deeming it nothing more than just an old advertisement, the City of San Diego recently approved a proposal to paint over the vintage Caliente racetrack mural located on the western wall of the historic California Theater.

As KPBS reports, this proposal was done with absolute disregard of the “45 year review,” wherein anything that is 45 years or older should be submitted for review for its historic significance.

Now, the 40x80-feet faded beauty is in danger of being painted over with an advertisement for Newcastle Brown Ale beer if nothing is done.

"The existing Caliente sign has no association with the historic California Theater and does not itself have historical significance,” KPBS quotes Cathy Winterrowd—Principal Planner City of San Diego’s Historical Resources Board as saying.

Raise your voice and let Ms. Winterrowd and everyone involved in this irregular decision that being the last public remnant of Tijuana’s legendary Agua Caliente racetrack—the brainchild of illustrious San Diegan John S. Alessio of “Mr. A’s” fame, this work of public art is forever tied to the history of San Diego, Tijuana’s sister city since 1993.

A haven for Hollywood starlets and the international elite, the Agua Caliente racetrack was the signature of class during the Prohibition era. Its legend supersedes that of the Del Mar Racetrack, and even Las Vegas, and was the catalyst for an economic boom on both sides of the border during its heyday.

As its Wikipedia page lists, it set the bar for industry firsts such as starting gates, the use of safety helmets and “pick six” wagering. Both Phar Lap and Seabiscuit ran and won the Agua Caliente Handicap, which for a time was the richest in North America.

This vintage mural should in fact be deemed historic and the brash decision to have it forever erased should be put on hold while they submit it through the proper avenues to be considered as a place of historic significance; one that should be respected and preserved for future generations to appreciate and admire.

Sign it. Save it. Sign it. Save it. Sign it. Save it. Sign it. Save it. Sign it. Save it. Sign it. Save it. Sign it. Save it. Sign it. Save it. Sign it. Save it. Sign it. Save it. Sign it. Save it. Sign it. Save it. Sign it. Save it. Sign it. Save it.

Lila Downs in Tijuana Saturday

2011-12-13T11:49:00.000-08:00

If it weren't for the All My Friends + Turista Libre Xmas party with NYC Beach Fossils happening Saturday, we'd totally be first in line to see Lila Downs' Sins and Miracles show. She's playing at El Foro, the historic Jai Alai building downtown on Revolucion between Seventh and Eighth streets. Tickets start at 230 pesos ($17 or so) and are available at ticketmaster.com.mx.

Biborder collective Art Fist gets virginal

2011-12-07T14:29:00.001-08:00

Regardless of your religious stand, it's a given that the Virgin of Guadalupe holds a special place in nearly every Mexican's heart. Especially Enrique Limón of SDTJ collective Art Fist.

The group's next show, In Guad We Trust, takes inspiration from Santa Maria's fest day, a huge celebration in Mexico.

Happening Dec. 10 at The Roots Factory in Barrio Logan (two days before the actual holiday), the holier-than-thou art show features reworked, reimagined and reinterpreted Lupita images by an all-Latino stable: Lalo Alcaraz, Max Bojorquez, Ana Brown, Josue Castro, Chikle, German Corrales, Chuy Espinoza, EXIST 1981, Damian Gastelum, Abel Guzman, Sergio Hernandez, Ricardo Islas, King Al, Jaime Lozano, Migz, Eddie Miramontes, MOISTRIX, Gloria Muriel, Eddie Osuna, Erika Paniagua, Jorge Piña, Maya Ramirez, Raudiel Sañudo, Pablo Stanley, Surly Gurly, Joseph Tejeda, Jona Téllez-Girón, Tocayo, Mario Torero and Perry Vasquez.

"It's a little-known fact (and an ironic one given how I turned out)," says Limón, "that my show-business debut was as at the ripe ol' age of 4 months old as the baby Jesus in the live nativity scene in the Tijuana Country Club. So you could say I've been preparing my whole life for putting together this show."

That said, que Dios nos bendiga.

More info.

Dici Tijuana

2011-12-05T12:04:00.001-08:00

Sergio drives La Sexta blind, Lady D paints Astronauta Jackson's cake, the DJs do a dance. "Romantic Streams" by Sleep Over.

Tijuana ride for kids with HIV

2011-12-02T14:01:00.001-08:00

23-kilometer bike ride Saturday to support Tijuana kids living with HIV. Departs Pasaje Rodriguez downtown between Third and Fourth streets on Avenida Revolucion at 10 a.m. Registration opens at 7 a.m.

Proximamente 17 Dic. | Coming soon Dec. 17

2011-12-01T11:27:00.000-08:00

¡PICK YOUR TRIP!
TURISTA LIBRE SHOP HOP + AMF POSADA $25 USD
TURISTA LIBRE SHOP HOP ONLY $15 USD
AMF POSADA + BORDER BUS ONLY $10 USD

Turista Libre and All My Friends unleash the yuletide in Tijuana with shopping and a show. Do one or the other or both pero ¡caiganle! Space is limited so prepaying is a must. Options are as follows:

1. A holiday shop-hop that’ll prove Tijuana supplies Santa with more than NFL ponchos and Tweety Bird lawn ornaments. Graze locally made arts, crafts and clothing at various boutiques and galleries around town. $15. 3 p.m. border pickup. Meeting spot map: http://bit.ly/9pm5Q0

2. A posada (aka an Xmas party of full-fledged Mexican proportions) starring NYC indie cariños Beach Fossils, plus Tijuana bands Ibi Ego, Jablonsky and Inkjet and San Diego’s Tropical Popsicle. Full-fledged Mexican proportions include tamales, buñuelos (colloquial seasonal doughnuts so to speak), hot punch and, of course, piñatas. $10. 9 p.m. border pickup. Meeting spot map: http://bit.ly/9pm5Q0

3. Holiday shop-hop and posada. $25.

“Beach Fossils aren’t merely trying to evoke the feeling of sand between your toes,” says Pitchfork of the band’s 2010 self-titled full-length debut. “And even if you think you’ve mentally checked out of anything summery and lo-fi, this is a wonderful record.”

Tickets include transportation from the border on Turista Libre’s red-lit fun bus, plus the typical perks. Complimentary Jello shots, prizes, pura cura.

AMF POSADA 2011 TEASER (LUPITA'S REMIX) from ALL MY FRIENDS on Vimeo.

Daydream- Beach Fossils from yigit soncul on Vimeo.

Lucha, Catholic crutches and messages from beyond the pet cemetery

2011-11-29T15:29:00.001-08:00

I'm apprehensive about sharing what happened immediately after losing Lucha the Tijuana Basset Hound to distemper, but it's essential to the story coming to anything remotely close to what I could consider a happy ending.

The day she was put down, I had to wobble out of the house on my Catholic crutch, asking St. Francis of Assisi to take care of her through all of this. Per Mom's advice. He's the patron saint of animals. And I usually have luck with saints. St. Anthony, the saint of finding lost things or something like that, always helps me track down my keys. Even when I ask half jokingly. Despite eight years of Sunday school, I'm not a religious person. Spiritualism, I think that's embedded in all of us. Some just are better at ignoring it than others. And Mom's usually right when it comes to these sort of things anyway.

After the fourth injection sent Lucha on her way, I held her for a minute, wiped the last goop out of her eyes before shutting them and then I spread her Dumbo ears over the yellow vinyl table where only months earlier I had held Cumbia, my first Tijuana dog that I had adopted off the street, through the same. Six months old and already gone.

Right after it was over, I managed to keep the emotion geyser from erupting all over the vet's waiting room. But I knew I needed to walk. A church was a block away, but I wouldn't be able to go in because I was wearing an A-shirt and Mexican Catholicism has a strict sleeve mandate. No bare biceps allowed. I stood by the open doors watching mass for a minute until I realized a man having his photo taken in front of the church, so I ran back down the stairs to get out of his shot. Waiting for him to finish, I happened to look over at the wall and right in front of me was a huge sign with a prayer, the Prayer of Peace. I started reading it to myself: Make me an instrument of your peace, where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. It was only when I finally reached the end that I found the author's name. St. Francis.

That's when the manic bawling began. But I think it was out of happiness, and relief. Either way, it was enough to have the gangly security guard appear out of nowhere and linger a little closer than he probably would have otherwise, staring at the weeping gringo in the shadows.

Like I said, I'm not religious. But I know signs exist for a reason. And this was just that. Literally and transcendentally.

Saguarotown, San Felipe

2011-11-27T11:37:00.001-08:00

A small fleet of what I'd guess to be 100 or so saguaro cacti reside out on an old cattle ranch that's now a national reserve about 15 minutes south of San Felipe. The larger ones are between 20 and 30 feet tall, a height that takes time for a plant that tops out at just six millimeters in its first year. Most of these are between 500 and 1,500 years old, according to the guard at the front gate. He then asked if I would be planning on taking my 2WD car up into the surrounding hills -- gringos love to do that, he said -- and looked confused when I said we'd come just to see the saguaros at sunset.

Hence the signs, which suggest off-road driving isn't the only thing my people enjoy out here: No killing animals, no firing weapons.

Info on the web just about as scarce as what's up for grabs at the tourism office in town. Follow the road to Puertocitos and keep an eye out on the right after passing kilometer marker 17 or so. It's $10 per car to stay as long as you like, usually until the looming vultures start to stare.

Jose can you see

2011-11-26T17:33:00.001-08:00

San Felipe iPhone potpourri

2011-11-25T10:10:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving Drive

2011-11-24T09:18:00.001-08:00

The Ensenada-San Felipe freeway is the Mexican Autobahn. Two lanes with the occasional curve but for the most part a long, straight stretch that cuts across the Baja peninsula, connecting the Pacific and Sea of Cortez. At 90, I felt I should be watching for cops. At 100, I remembered there aren't any cops. At, 110 I realized I should probably worry more about spiked wildlife sleeping in the middle of the road. And finishing my beer before reaching the next military checkpoint. At 120, the wind started to undermine the car's aerodynamics. So back down to 110 it was. The dog and I pissed in the desert and collected discarded road reflectors to the sound of absolute silence. It was beautiful.

Later came welcome margaritas, a bacon-wrapped fish fillet, talk of renting ATVs and a karaoke duet with a handsome lesbian townie to Alaska y Dinarama's "Ni tu ni Nadie" in a pool hall named Fandango's.

Como se dice Happy Thanksgiving? Feliz Dia de Accion de Gracias.

Random photo: Grounded urinal

2011-11-23T12:09:00.000-08:00

I was too excited by the chance to use a urinal that had either fallen or been ripped off the wall in this downtown Tijuana parking garage to realize that it wasn't connected to the plumbing and so was soon standing in a puddle of my own piss. Go me.

Black Friday vs. Nortec's Bostich + Fussible vs. Adam Sandler in drag

2011-11-22T15:30:00.001-08:00

You're too efficiently chromosomed to attempt any shopping this holiday weekend. But you're looking for something to do after you've had your fill of football with sweatpanted distant relatives. Well, here it is. Better yet, here's a reason to bring them to Tijuana. But not in sweatpants, please.

Nortec Collective's Bostich and Fussible play the Jai Alai aka El Foro, one of the oldest remaining structures in Tijuana, downtown on Revolucion between Seventh and Eighth streets Friday. Tickets.

(Side note: B+F are to be congratulated on "Tijuana Sound Machine" appearing in the new Adam Sandler film "Jack and Jill." Yep, Nortec has breached the sovereign garbage that is Adam Sandler movies. The song plays during a Mexican picnic scene. Jill, played by Sandler in drag, goes to a family gathering with the Mexican gardener who works for her twin brother, also played by Sandler. And then succumbs to "chimichanga bombs" after eating Mexican food for the first time, i.e. shits herself. Er, himself. Whatever. As if stereotypes that are too inoffensive to even be funny weren't enough, the film is laced with a lot of backhanded illegal immigration jokes that were almost unbearable to hear in a Tijuana cinema. Why was I even at an Adam Sandler movie to begin with? Oh, yeah. When nearly horizontal in a leather recliner at Cinepolis VIP, giant stein of Negra Modelo in hand, I guess it doesn't really matter what you're seeing. Before it turns out to be "Jack and Jill," that is.)

Anyway.

Turista Libre has decided to spend Black Friday 2011 recharging our tan lines on the vacant shores of the Sea of Cortez. Otherwise we'd be there. Photos from Turista Libre at Bostich + Fussible at Jai Alai, April 2010.

Here's video of Bostich and Fussible's show back in April at Black Box.

Turista Libre lucha libre round 3

2011-11-22T13:55:00.000-08:00

Turista Libre's most recent dive into masked Mexican wrestling came as a sneak-attack epiphany in defining who or what specifically constitutes the atypical tourism outfit's typical attendee.

Sitting in a blue plastic chair, halfway up the aisles of Tijuana's municipal auditorium and half way through my second double Tecate, I looked around at the randomly assembled group of 15 or so gabachos and pondered something that I've been asked many times but have never really specifically pinned down:

What connects these people?

Some professionals, others unemployed. Some students, others professional students. Some vegans, others carnivores. Some fluent Spanish speakers, others Rosetta Stone poster children. Some Tijuana regulars, others Tijuana virgins. One of those was a creative director from American Eagle, who'd heard from the corner of his Pittsburgh headcorners that all the rumors about big, bad Tijuana weren't all they're cracked up to be and had come to see for himself.

Male, female. Gay, straight. Barely legal, well past the point of being carded. Such a random cluster of who knows how many colors of the demographic rainbow. Something I've noticed on most TL treks.

But before I allowed my tendency to overthink scenes and their existential meanings pull a stink face, Asian mist or some other move from Wikipedia's extensive entry on professional wrestling attacks, I took note of the show playing out in front of me, nothing short of a Cirque du Smackdown, and the manner in which it inspired an ongoing chorus of screams and cheers.

Indoor fireworks, aerosol-can flame throwers and other pyrotechnical surprises. Fatsos dressed as Disney characters and fit reptilian spins on Skeletor. Shemales in tights. The liberty to smoke a cigarette without leaving the building. The fact that we had just dined on double-decker chile-relleno-carne-asada tacos at El Tacomiendo (a clever pun on "él etá comiendo, the colloquial bumpkin way to say "he's eating") on the side of a six-lane thoroughfare. And that we would soon be downtown dancing in Santa Leyenda, an overstuffed lucha-libre-themed bar to overcranked techno and Mexican top-40 remixes. All in all an ongoing sensory overload, the perfect storm of endulgence and escapism whose conditions never seem to come quite together on the other side of the fence.

And then there was Ruby Gardenia, a transexual exótico luchadora who entered the ring in full-blown Carnaval attire: sequined wings, black and hot-pink uniform and towering headdress.

Per the standards of lucha libre storylines, exótico wrestlers traditionally serve as the butt of homophobic, machista jokes that for the most part fly a mile over most non-Spanish speakers' heads. That is, until they realize the crowd is chanting "Beso! Beso! Beso!" (Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!) not because they genuinely long to see Ruby to fall in love and live happily ever after with her ever-willing opponent. No, no. Those puckered, Covergirled lips serve as an unmatchable super power against her enemies. Here, the smooch of the queer trumps the kiss of Judas.

And then it all made sense. Sort of.

Lucha libre is a living, breathing comic book. A soap opera that's socially acceptable for men to obsess over. Which is ironic because it's essentially drag. Men (mostly) masked both literally and figuratively behind personas which they've crafted to a tee. Technically, it differs little from its American counterpart. Best two out of three wins. But for these Americans who for the most part know little more than tired, old orange roid whores as far as professional wrestling goes, all the camp, action, drama, color, drag, acrobatics and, most importantly, sporadic pyrotechnics that make up its Mexican counterpart come as the unrivaled champion of the century. Or at least that's what I was gathering from all the gabacho screams.

These are luxuries we gabachos have always been denied. The uncertainty, the tackiness, the flamboyance, the ambiguity, the zoning violations. And the whiplash return to the nostalgic realm of make-believe.

"It was like, anything goes in there. Little kids throwing folding chairs into the ring. Flames shooting out of aerosol cans," said Mr. American Eagle Midwesterner regarding his first taste of lucha libre. "It was like everyone was 12 again."

Our world is a tired, old orange roid whore.

Yours, Tijuana, is Ruby.

More photos. More photos. More photos. More photos. More photos. More photos. More photos. More photos.

Proximamente | Coming soon

2011-11-11T16:36:00.000-08:00

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Turista Libre returns to the grave of Juan Soldado

2011-11-07T10:13:00.000-08:00

(Guest narrating Turista Libre's annual Day of the Dead visit to the resting place of Tijuana's controversial folk saint Juan Soldado is The San Diego Reader's Chad Deal. Check out his original post and photos here.)

Just a stone’s throw from the border, Puerta Blanca cemetery is Tijuana’s oldest graveyard and home to the crypt of the unofficial resident saint of miracles, protection, fortune, and health -- Juan Castillo Morales, better known as Juan Soldado (Juan the Soldier).

In 1938, Juan was accused of raping and murdering an eight-year-old girl and was executed by a firing squad, who gave him the customary la ley fuga running start before gunning him down.

The small chapel that stands where Juan is said to have fallen is now a point of pilgrimage for believers who maintain that he was framed by a general known for his lechery and lascivious taste in girls.

Yesterday, I saw two women walking on their knees from the cemetery entrance to the memorial chapel, a modest blue shack spackled with notes of thankfulness for miracles fulfilled.

According to tradition, the women, one appearing in her fifties and the other in her teens, would be returning stones that they took from the graveyard when they entreated Juan for his help in anything from health to conception to money to safe passage across the border.

Those who neglect to return their stones, tour guide Martha told a group of maybe 30, are paid a late night visit by Juan, who will arrive on offenders' doorsteps, extend his hand, and demand what is his.

Near the back of the cemetery, beneath a towering willow tree at the steps of Juan’s mausoleum, Martha told the story of how she came to believe in the soldier’s innocence and divine powers.

Years ago, broke and down on her luck, Martha visited Juan’s memorial temple and had an unexpected rendezvous with the saint soldier himself.

“How many of you believe in ghosts?” Martha asked the group, her eyes obscured by dark sunglasses beneath long, raven black hair.

“How about encounters?”

Juan, Martha said, had whispered into her ear that desperate day in the chapel, assuring her of his innocence and ensuring her a change in fortune.

The next day, Martha said, she found several thousand dollars in a restaurant bathroom and returned to thank Juan for his blessings.

“Then he whispered right here, in the same ear,” Martha said, gesturing to one shoulder, “and he said, ‘Don’t you see now that I am innocent?’”

Her words were harrowing and sharp and sent a ghastly electricity over my skin.

As unbelievable as it may be, Martha’s story is but one among many heralding Juan’s powers, as evinced by notes scrawled everywhere on the walls of Juan’s final resting place.

Down the street, we visited the grave site of eight-year-old Olga Camacho Martínez, who, Martha says, was once the neighbor of Martha’s mother.

The Turista Libre bus transported us to a market place while guide Derrik Chinn, a four-year gringo resident of Tijuana, passed out orange jello shots in tribute to the traditional orange marigolds associated with Dia de Los Muertos.

We wandered the market (Mercado Popo, downtown, Second Street and Mutualismo) for maybe thirty minutes among pronounced odors of pungent cheese, raw meat, and dried botanica herbs.

After a quick stop at a craft beer bar, we headed to El Taller, a former silk screen printing warehouse gone upscale restaurant, whose corrugated tin siding and hardwood motif lent a sophisticated but easy-going California gold rush meets pomo industrial art space ambiance.

My table shared a hot beet salad with goat cheese, bacon wrapped shrimp with potatoes (why have I never heard or even thought of this?), and a mole pizza with steak and arugula.

I have no idea why I didn’t take more photos (Chad's were pretty cool but we had plenty of our own to post here), but you can check out Turista Libre's photos from the same tour last year for some quality food porn and photos of Panteon Del Taurino (The Bullfighting Cemetery), a hole-in-the-wall dive bar where we stopped for 32 ounce caguamas of Tecate before heading home (below).

More photos. More photos. More photos. More photos. More photos. More photos. More photos. More photos.

Proximamente | Coming soon

2011-11-04T12:57:00.000-07:00

More info. More info. More info. More info. More info. More info. More info. More info. More info. More info.

Random photo: Mount Imaginationland, Mexico

2011-11-03T11:52:00.000-07:00

¡Que monstruos son! | 'El Monster Mash'

2011-10-31T09:09:00.000-07:00

4,300 living dead at Zombie Walk Tijuana '11

2011-10-30T12:05:00.000-07:00

TJ haunted house! Through Nov. 2!

2011-10-29T15:40:00.000-07:00

The kids who organized the AMF fest back in September have hexed Tijuana's municipal auditorium (site of lucha libre matches and Zonkeys basketball games) into a haunted house of what I've heard to be cinematic proportions. Something about local horror film addict (and maker) Aaron Soto fashioning a faux Regan from "The Exorcist" to spew fake green vomit at everyone, among other grossnesses. It opens tonight and runs through Day of the Dead, Nov. 2.

Tied to all this is the Redrum music series, with a different local band playing nightly: La Diabla the 29th, Late Nite Howl the 30th, Dani Shivers the 31th, Maria y Jose the 1st and Juan Cirerol the 2nd.

The haunted house opens at 5. The bar opens at 9, followed by the band. It's 50 pesos for both or 30 just for the show.

To get there: the auditorium is about 10 miles from the border, on the south side of Boulevard Agua Caliente, but the shows are happening around back in the newer basketball annex. From downtown take one of the green buses or red colectivo taxis headed toward La Mesa, or just hop in a taxi libre or yellow cab at the border.

More info here.

Random photo: My hood

2011-10-22T12:21:00.000-07:00

Welcome to Colonia Libertad

2011-10-21T09:18:00.000-07:00

Welcome to Colonia Libertad campaign from omar pimienta on Vimeo.

Because thoughtful installation art makes the world so much less of a snore. And because Tijuana is the world's largest piece of installation art in itself, especially La Liber. I'm giving this guy $20. You should, too. Or more if you can. The deadline's Nov. 1. Suerte, Omar.

Per the project's page on unitedstatesartists.org:

Welcome to Colonia Libertad is a public art piece that intends to foster a dialog between art, history, writing and community concetpualization. it speaks in various directions from a specific place: Colonia Libertad. Parting from an historical document: Bartoldi’s sketch of the pedestal for his statue of liberty.

The Money will be used for 10 public installations and presentations of Lady Libertad. Lady Libertad is a pyramid/agora that functions as a public space to orchestrate workshops, readings, presentations, performances and different activities that aim to create a dynamic of analysis, practice and appreciation of Colonia Libertad and it’s specific characteristics. Colonia Libertad is one of Tijuana’s oldest neighborhoods, it was highly populated in the 1930’s by repatriated Mexicans of the great depression. Until 1994 it had been one of the most effective border-crossing areas due to its proximity to San Ysidro. Operation Gatekeeper and its eventual militarization of the border reduced it’s importance as a south to north point of departure. Today with record number of almost four hundred thousand repatriated Mexican this year alone, and the economic recession that has pushed lower income American citizens into the community the neighborhoods demographics have been highly affected and to a point, created a shift in it’s migratory patterns.

These characteristics as well as it’s geopolitical importance and others that arise from the strategic location are pretended to be discussed collectively as a community inside the structure / pyramid / agora. The art works relies in the strangeness generated by the public display of an inflatable statue of liberty rising over a pyramid. And what these two icons represent. The piece draws from a 1882 sketch of the pedestal for the statue of liberty. This sketch drawn by Frédéric Auguste Bartoldi, the artist creator of the colossal sculpture, pretended to conceptualize American democracy in close relation with the pre-Columbian cultures.

Each presentation/workshop/reading/performance will be conducted by a different specialist. The topic of the events will range from literary readings to art workshops, academic presentation on narco culture, Immigration law, public services, etc… The money will be used to transport and install the public art piece; facilitate the specialist’s needs; arrange accommodations for Lady Libertad at the 10 different public spaces within the neighborhood: permits, power source; and the workshop’s production cost. The 10 events will take place only at Colonia Libertad and the documentation of the events will eventually form a future show. Thank you for your support.

Omar Pimienta.

Proximamente | Coming soon

2011-10-20T11:39:00.000-07:00

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Tijuana police arrest Occupy Tijuana Ocupemos Tijuana protesters

2011-10-19T14:39:00.001-07:00

More at Signonsandiego.com.

Texans vs. Mexicans

2011-10-12T13:28:00.000-07:00

The Last of the Meheecans

Get More: SOUTH
PARK Eric Cartman,Leopold "Butters" Stotch,more...

Occupy Tijuana October 15

2011-10-07T13:42:00.000-07:00

The ongoing civil unrest inspired by Occupy Wall Street is set to seep across the border. Occupy Tijuana happens on Paseo de los Heroes in between Plaza Rio Mall and Plaza Financiera, Tijuana's very own ode to Wall Street, near CECUT at noon Saturday, October 15.

That said, it's worth mentioning that Chapter 33 of the Mexican Constitution states the following:

"Los extranjeros no podrán de ninguna manera inmiscuirse en los asuntos políticos del país."

"Foreigners may not meddle in any manner in the political affairs of the country."

More on that here.

Via the group's Facebook page (keep scrolling for the English translation):

¡Bienvenid@!

Nosotr@s somos ¡Democracia Real Ya! México Toma la Calle / Occupy Mexico ¡Ahora en Tijuana!

Este es un movimiento ciudadano apartidista que busca unir la indignación presente en la sociedad frente a los abusos del sistema político y económico que tiene secuestrada a nuestra sociedad para generar una transformación a través de mecanismos no-violentos.

Creemos que es tiempo de generar un movimiento ciudadano con la fuerza necesaria para transformar a fondo estas estructuras y así construir una nueva sociedad a la altura de la dignidad humana.

Nos rehusamos a aceptar que somos sólo un engranaje del sistema productivo consumista que se empeña en destruir nuestro entorno tanto natural como social.

Consideramos necesario ejercer nuestro derecho a participar en las decisiones que rigen nuestra vida fuera de las estructuras políticas existentes que no nos representan.

Para lograrlo estamos construyendo un pensamiento colectivo en donde nuestras diferencias en vez de dividirnos nos enriquezcan. El mecanismo de toma de decisiones se basa en asambleas que generan consensos partiendo del trabajo generado en distintas comisiones y mesas de reflexión. Somos ciudadanos comunes construyendo una organización horizontal, incluyente y alegre.

Ciudadanos de muchos otros países están realizando acciones para transformar sus realidades. Si crees que ya es tiempo de actuar en México y que está en nuestras manos, únete y participa!

Welcome!

We are Real Democracy Now! Mexico Takes the Street / Occupy Mexico Now in Tijuana!

This is a nonpartisan citizens' movement that seeks to unite the anger present in society against the abuse of the political and economic systems that have hijacked our society to generate a transformation through non-violent mechanisms.

We believe it is time to build a citizens' movement with the force necessary to turn back these structures and build a new society at the height of human dignity.

We refuse to accept that we are only a cog in the consumerist production system that insists on destroying our natural and social environment.

Consider it necessary to exercise our right to participate in decisions that govern our life outside of the existing political structures that do not represent us.

To achieve this we are building a collective thinking where our differences enrich us rather than divide us. The mechanism of decision making is rooted in the consensus generated assemblies, based on the work generated in various committees and panel discussions. We are building an organization of ordinary citizens that's horizontal, inclusive and joyful.

Citizens of many other countries are taking action to transform their realities. If you think it's time to act in Mexico and that it's now in our hands, join and participate!

http://mxtomalacalle.org/

Proximamente | Coming soon

2011-10-04T13:05:00.000-07:00

More info. More info. More info. More info. More info. More info. More info. More info. More info. More info.

La Sexta should've been a Herb Alpert song

2011-09-26T09:09:00.000-07:00

Lily goes to the swapmeet

2011-09-22T08:16:00.000-07:00

Along for the recent trek to La Mesa and Mercado de Todos swapmeets was Lily, a 24-year-old first-timer to not only Turista Libre but to Tijuana and San Diego as well. Her visit coincided with a stopover on the way back to her home in London after having spent the past year or so traveling and working in New York and Sydney.

She had no intention of going to Mexicoas part of her travels, but she happened to hear about Turista Libre's swapmeet trek via the kind folks at Hosteling International. The first time she'd actually heard about Tijuana was from another English girl she met during a tour of Los Angeles, who told her that on herprevious night out in San Diego she met a guy in bar around closing time whosuggested taking a taxi to the border to Tijuana where the bars were open 'til 6 a.m.

"From what this girltold me, I then expected Tijuana to be a place for American youths to indulgein what would be underage drinking in America," she says. "I heard it’s a populardestination for spring break, so (I) also expected a tacky resort vibe with tonsof trashy bars playing cheesy music."

Yeah, there's that. Less than once upon a time, for sure. But it's still here. Like any touristy area, she says. Streets lined with tacky junk for sale. Waitstaff and tchotchke vendors hassling her to come into shops and restaurants. All she could hear, she says, was, "Hello, hello, come inside, speak English!"

That all changed as she traveled farther into the city and away from Revolucion.

"On route to the firstswapmeet, the craziness started to die down a bit, compared to hustle andbustle, the streets were less crowded and I finally had a chance to soak in whatwas really going on, watching locals dine at open-style restaurants, fixing there cars on the sidewalk, just everyday life."

Lily used a 35-milimeter Olympus she bought for a dollar at some Australian thrift store to document her transborder experience: catching the trolley from her hostel in the Gaslamp, her walk across the bridge into downtown Tijuana, the bus ride east along Boulevard Agua Caliente, the Jai Alai building on Revolucion and the armies of ceramic junk that line it, her adobada, her churros, her pozole and her Peñafiel. These are her photos. They already look like they're from another decade, but not because of some overused iPhone app.

I'd say the photos one takes while experiencing Tijuana for the first time are often the most sincere portraits of the city, even it arguably cliche. You're not necessarily processing the geopolitical, economic and ecological complications embedded in every street corner. Rather, you're just taking it all in as randomly as it throws itself at you.

And this is what you see.

More about her day, in her own words:

As an outsider to the entire region who visited both sides of the border, how do you see therelationship between San Diego and Tijuana?

I was surprised at how easy itwas getting into Mexico, a matter of catching a trolley for 20 minutes and walkingthrough two turnstiles and although it was easy to access Mexico I wasdisappointed at how little border crossing was promoted to tourists visitingSan Diego, and how locals in San Diego gave me the impression that Tijuana wasa dangerous and violent place and was advised to not go there.

For someone who's neither Mexican norAmerican, what immediately felt different after crossing the border? And whatfelt the same?

Compared to past experiencesof crossing borders in Europe, I felt a gradual merging of cultures. Forexample, the border of Italy and Switzerland. The locals on each side can speakthe same language, there is a merge of foods and you don’t really feel like you’rein another country. Whereas when I wentthrough the turnstiles into Mexico I got overwhelming sense of, “Wow, I’m in Mexico."From riding a quiet trolley for half an hour to crazy traffic, hustle and bustle,horns honking, smells coming from the food carts, colorful stores everywhere, my sensesfelt like they were on overdrive.

Your favorite three specific momentsof the day?

1. Eating cactusflowers laced with salt, chilli and lime. I never even knew cactus grewflowers? Also, mixing sweet with savoury normally makes me cringe, but thissurprisingly tasted really good.

2. Trying pozole forthe first time in an authentic Mexican restaurant. Next time I’ll think twiceabout ordering my usual two chicken tacos and soda.

3. Eating freshchurros from a street vendor. These things were $13 for two pieces inAustralia, so I was really stoked and took no time in wolfing them down.

One of the goals of Turista Libreis to give outsiders a chance to feel like a local for a few hours. How didyour experience compare to that?

Going to the swapmeetwhere the locals didn’t speak any English made me think, "Oh, I’mgonna get ripped off," when in fact the day turned out to be the completeopposite. The best part was gettingthere on the rickety, old bus, sitting amongst the locals. Nobody looked at uslike we were a bunch of Americans on a tour.

Vaca y Pollito vs. Cow and Chicken

2011-09-21T13:47:00.000-07:00

Tijuana Imagen Latente

2011-09-20T10:41:00.000-07:00

So Freelance, the gallery-media boutique upstairs at Pasaje Rodriguez, is planning on projecting a few of Turista Libre's photos, along with the work of seven other emerging local photographers, around Tijuana. No word yet on exactly when or where, but maybe that'll come tomorrow night at the show's opening, a more traditional tangible presentation of all 12 images. 8:30 pm Wednesday, downtown between Third and Fourth streets and Constitucion and Revolucion avenues. Complimentary peanuts, pistachios and TJ platica for all. ¡Viva Fotoseptiembre!

"La fotografía sobre Tijuana revela un escenario vibrante, diverso y contrastante. Aparte del registro iconográfico, esta galería de imágenes tiene una interpretación múltiple y estimulante de la ciudad. La idea asimismo es confrontar las visiones fotográficas en gran formato con la realidad urbana que las sirve de contexto. Las fotografías se ubicarán en diversos puntos de la geografía urbana de Tijuana.

"Tijuana-inspired photography reveals scenes that are vibrant, diverse and contrasting. Aside from their iconographic registry, this gallery of images carries a multifarious and stimulating interpretation of the city. The idea is to confront these photographic visions in large-scale format with the urban reality that gives them context. The photos will be located in various urban geographic points around Tijuana."

All My Friends Music Fest '11

2011-09-19T16:04:00.000-07:00

Three stages, 35 local bands, a 2,500-capacity mansion overlooking downtown Tijuana complete with pool: bordertown indie bombs away for the second annual All My Friends Music Fest.

Held at a private residence known as the Millionaire's House, the place belongs to a business tycoon who earned his bling by supplying much of northern Mexico with the polyethylene that grocery stores here run through with little regard to its 1,000-year lifespan. (Seriously, they often toss even the toothpaste in its own sack.) He now lives in Italy and left the keys with his son, who proudly (smugly?) described his dad as a plastic bag baron. Junior now shares the eight-bedroom norteño nouveau-riche palace with just one friend and banks extra cash by renting out the yard for the occasional rave or music festival like AMF.

We knew we were in for an all-day ordeal from the get-go. Doors opened at 1 p.m. and even though the last act wasn't scheduled to play until 3:30 a.m. our people showed up at 2 in time to catch the first band, which wound up not going on until 5 or so.

So the group splintered. Some lounged by the pool in the sun; those with swimsuits toyed with actually getting in. And even though coorganizer Martha Preciado promised free beer to any gringo who did, no one made it past posing for photos on the high dive. Others killed time by roaming around the outskirts of downtown Tijuana or strolling through whatever happened to be going on in nearby Teniente Guerrero Park, a block of urban greenery that's usually the site of live impromptu homages to Selena and ongoing checkers tournaments.

The rest compensated for the lagging beer vendors by going on OXXO runs for mini bottles of Corralejo, while I found myself observing the various realms of Tijuana hipsterdom (did someone say mipsters?) as they slowly but surely strutted in. Their shoes, mostly, apparently, randomly. And the girl with cardboard sign tied to her backpack advertising she had single cigarettes for sale.

By sundown, the grounds had filled with some 1,400 bodies, according to the organizers' estimates, and the spirit of the fest finally presented itself. This was a giant house party, orchestrated by the fiesta-fiend spawn of parents who were off sailboating in St. Tropez or martiniing in Monaco or something.

Not too far from the truth, AMF fell together in 2010 when founder Argenis Garcia, a 26-year-old writer and photographer, returned from Coachella with his sister, broke and in need of money to send her back to school in Barcelona.

"I decided that the only way I could raise funds to help my sister was to bring all my friends together and throw a house party," he said.

They held it at their own place, which they were in the process of moving out of. The lack of furniture made room for three stages, one in the living room, one in the kitchen and a DJ setup in one of the bedrooms.

"We had more than 500 attendees, with bands like VisViva, El Hijo de la Diabla, a really special set by Ibi Ego in the kitchen, Jay Liquid, Machino and Al-B where there too. The party ended at 7 in the morning (when) the sun came up."

The deeper motivation for AMF was that Argenis was seeing a new generation of local bands not receiving the exposure he felt they deserved and wanted to do something about it. He describes it as a community-built festival that's not only about the acts but the family and friends who helped organize the festival from the get-go, hence the name. Even his mom was there last year selling tacos to the security guards and the bands. This year, his sis dropped in unannounced from New York, the Kanye West T-shirt he's wearing here alongside Martha in tow.

Aside from nearly tripling its turnout, AMF 2011 had caught attention from press and bloggers in Spain, Mexico City and the U.S. Not bad for its second installment. And perhaps it's a complete coincidence, what with the Tijuana haute cuisine scene apparently being the flavor of the season among New York media circles, but MTV spent a decent chunk of its summer in Tijuana recording a video series on the homegrown ruidoson movement that starred Maria y Jose and Los Macuanos, as well as spots with Nortec Collective's Bostich + Fussible, pyschojazz act Madame Ur y Sus Hombres and Sonidero Travesura (none of whom were part of the AMF lineup, by the way).

The DJ sets and smaller, intimate acts like Pek Pek and Elephant Woman happened on the balcony alongside the pool, while the more hardcore bands Hijo de la Diabla, Mae Machino and San Pedro el Cortez played in a semi-subterranean concrete bunker at the back of the property. Upstairs, on what looked to be a rooftop tennis court enclosed by barbwire-crowned chainlink (tres TJ), were shoegaze acts Loopdrop and Shantelle and headliners Bam Bam and Juan Cirerol. The bands were staggered between the two latter locales, but thanks to the lack of any sort of set list posted anywhere no one really knew who was playing when and where.

Memorable moments vary depending on whom you ask. For Argenis, it was a tie between Mae Machino's reunion after a six-year hiatus and Juan Cirerol's acapella version of "Crema Dulce," thanks in part to the lack of a sound system because the curfew for the generator had come and gone but Juan decided to keep playing.

For San Diego CityBeat editor Peter Holslin, it was Dani Shivers' "lo-fi goth pop."

"Wearing black eye shadow and a thin white shawl, she looked mysterious as she laid out warm synth chords and crude dance beats and cooed into the microphone. At once sinister and childlike, her performance was downright mesmerizing."

San Diego Reader's Chad Deal said Celofan made him "feel like a quixotic high school freshman at the Epicenter again. Reminded of Sunny Day Real Estate, Cold Weather Rescue, and 'Daydream Nation'-era Sonic Youth, I had the sudden compulsion to write fumbled love notes on Myspace to a shy brunette in heavy-handed eyeliner who smokes Kamel Reds and always wears the same beat pair of black Converse low-tops."

Personally, the evening climaxed with San Pedro el Cortez's hecho-en-Mexico melange of garage and surf rock. Not only was one of the guitarists wearing a sequined cocktail dress that resembled that which I wore behind the bars of a Tijuana jail a couple years ago, the band had taped fireworks to their guitar necks which they of course ignited and sprayed at the audience during their last song. Someone actually got it on video. A mosh pit ensued, instigated by one of Turista Libre's own, Max. ¡Ahuevo, Max!

Also among the crowd was Winston Rivas, a reporter for Austin Vida and the Latin American music corespondent for Red River Noise. He's also involved in the organization of a very significant American music festival which he asked remain unnamed. His fave of the evening was Shantelle, "a gorgeous set of shoegaze, everything from the razor sharp keyboards/synths, the funky bass line to Julio Palido's tender voice. The whole set I felt was being dipped into a glossy fantasy filled with shimmering lights and '90s romance and I never wanted to leave. This guys are Mexico's biggest hidden gem."

His favorite set, however, was Bam Bam: "A psychedelic furry of screeching synths, pounding drums and galloping guitar riffs. I knew Bam Bam was good but after seeing them live I was reassured what I already knew. They are Mexico's rock band for the next decade."

Summing up the fest in general, aside from a few organizational flaws and the somewhat awkward venue (a park would have been better), Winston felt the AMF people should be happy with how far they've come in just a year. Very few cities in Mexico can claim they have 20-30 solid indie bands, he said, and that's not even including the one's who didn't even play the festival (Maria y Jose, Los Macuanos). So this was a reaffirmation for the people of Tijuana that an indie scene does exist, and for the outsider it was a moment to take notice.

There are hundreds of festivals every year but very few capture an accurate portrait of their scene, he said.

"Does Coachella really represent Indio? Does ACL really showcase the real Austin? No. This may not have been the biggest festival but I can't recall where I've had a better time. This was a Tijuana festival made by Tijuana people for Tijuana people.

"Plus, where else can you get a big-ass cup of Jack and Coke for 35 pesos?"

Bien dicho, Winston. Bien, bien dicho.

Before the fest, the turistas fueled up on chicken drenched with Mexico's quintessential chile-chocolate sauce that's made up of no fewer than 20 ingredients, mole. Perched on the edge of a roundabout on Paseo de los Heroes in Zona Rio, La Casa Del Mole looks like a Oaxacan spin on "Swiss Family Robinson," an atrium with huge skylights, green anythings and everythings everywhere, be it paint or actual foliage, a live piano on the weekends and an actual waterfall that makes it easy to forget you're not only indoors but only a mile or so from the ol' U.S. of A.

Lineup: Juan Cirerol y Martin Del Prado, Mae Machino, Mentira Mentira, Loopdrop, Shantelle, Deck B, Vis Viva, Celofan, San Pedro el Cortez, Electric Healing Sound, Dani Shivers, La Diabla, Late Nite Howl, Perros Cobardes, El Hijo de la Diabla, Inkjet, Dasein, Krylon, Machino, Sweet Lullaby Toyland, Siete Catorce, Al-B, Elephant Woman, Santos Balcones Durango, KPTN, Pek Pek, The Kunt Set Duo.

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OMG! AMFMF!

2011-09-12T09:16:00.000-07:00

ALL MY FRIENDS 2011 (teaser) from ALL MY FRIENDS on Vimeo.

Thirty local bands, three stages, a 2,500-capacity mansion hanging off a cliff above downtown Tijuana, complete with pool: bordertown indie bombs away. Turista Libre heads to the second annual All My Friends Music Fest, happening Saturday, Sept. 17. Tickets here.

Return to the Tijuana Fair

2011-09-11T12:21:00.000-07:00

Sandwiching Mexico's independence day on September 16 is the annual month-long run of the Tijuana Fair, parked in between Parque Morelos and El Trompo interactive science and technology museum among the border city's ever-growing eastern skyline. The most recent addition of significance to sprout up out of the dust just off the Via Rapida freeway is the eight-story Tijuana World Trade Center, which opened in July.

Más que nada, the Tijuana Fair is a complete sensory overload of flashing neon, strobe lights, faux freaks of nature, bleeps, bloops, blings, dings, gongs and bongs, a buffet of postmodern folklore that's threaded together by a rising and falling yet ever-present adrenaline rush that fuels you through the body farm. Traits common to most fairs around the world, for sure. But amplified in typical Tijuana style, it's louder, brighter, bigger, faster, a never-ending Erick Rincon track and so, sobre todo, beautifully, precariously, arousingly, creepily bizarre.

3Ball MTY FT. EL Bebeto y America Sierra - Intentalo by Erick Rincon

Chapter one: the games. Lining the outer layers of the thoroughfare is the typical trickery in which every setup is looks as though it could be the entrance to a Hayao Miyazaki film. For the win are plush prizes of all incarnations, including Marlboro cigarettes, cellphones, customized key chains, 500-peso bills and shoes. Thrown into the mix are firing ranges outfitted with dancing Barbie dolls, stands selling makeup and jewelry and museums rigged out of trailers where 10 pesos scores you a peek at spider crabs, guitar fish, the world's smallest baby, Atila the Eagle Girl and other man-made DNA mishaps like the star-nused mule, whatever the hell that is. A rooster with what looked like a few extra limbs sewn or glued onto its breast sort of waved at me from afar as I passed all this by, thinking best to save my pesos for the main attraction. The rides.

Filling the core of the fairgrounds are no fewer than 20 or 30 attractions that, judging by the general consensus of the group, sent us plummeting back to all the best parts of adolescence. Two drop towers, a biggie and accompanying mini-me. A full-size rollercoaster known as the Wild Mouse. A terror train rigged out of tractor trailers known as the Dark Ride. The Kamikaze, a contraption that looks like a pair of trolley cars bolted onto a giant pair of scissors that loops. The Extreme Loop, a giant spinning pendulum. Various tilt-a-whirls that erase the line between severe bruising and fear of internal bleeding at various speeds. And, of course, the usual bumper cars, swings, merry-go-round and Ferris wheel.

Tickets for each ride run between 20 and 30 pesos and must be purchased separately at the booth outside each setup, which translates to waiting in two lines. One for the taquilla, another for the actual ride. But the double queuing only winds up building suspense. And it presents you, dear tourist, with the priceless opportunity to meet whomever's sitting in the booth. Characters for whom John Waters would squeal. Especially when he notices she's got a stroller parked in the corner.

No sense in denying it, this whiplash back to before our collective loss of innocence wouldn't have played out as smoothly as it did without 50-peso Tecate and Tecate Light caguamas (the only beer options, by the way #gograndeorgohome), rimmed with chamoy and chile powder, and cocktails in footlong plastic palm trees. Eyes consequentially became squintier and squintier and faces redder and redder with each passing hour. Our husband-wife bus driver team did indeed pass off the keys to their bus-driving son before following suit and joining the gringos in kicking up dust to the live norteño corridos of El Coyote on the main stage, all the while careful not to deal a heel to the surrounding Virgen de Guadalupe and Hello Kitty ceramic statues won by our fellow fairgoers.

Then we shared a couple bags of cotton candy the size of body pillows, 30 pesos a pop, whose plenitude made for impromptu HFCS mustaches.

And made our way back to the border on the muy red fun bus by midnight, everyone in one piece.

Lushes in search of lost childhood south of the border, call us if you will. But we're foodies, too.

Before the fair we padded our stomachs with a hefty layer of mariscos at kitschy-cool La Corriente Cevicheria Nais downtown at Sixth and Madero. The place looks like an homage to Acapulco according to some drag queen who just won the lottery (and I mean that as a definite pageant-winning attribute), with an airbrushesque sunset-palm mural, draping seashell lanterns, mermaid logo, a palapa ceiling and Señor Coconut's cumbia-merengue-salsa ode to Kraftwerk in the air. The menu actually rivals the decor: tacos filled with marlin stuffed into bacon-wrapped shrimp and California chiles, tortillas soaked in soy sauce, red snapper tostadas. And topping the menu are the range of 10 or so mezcal cocktails, namely the Slimer-green hierba buena "De La Verde."

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Proximamente | Coming soon

2011-08-26T14:18:00.000-07:00

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Proximamente | Coming soon

2011-08-24T16:54:00.000-07:00

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Proximamente | Coming soon

2011-08-22T15:29:00.000-07:00

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New York Post, Turista Libre, "The New Tijuana Cool"

2011-08-15T13:16:00.000-07:00

From the Aug. 14, 2011, New York Post piece "The New Tijuana Cool":

"Not sure about navigating Tijuana on your own? No problem. Sign up for one of the unique tours offered by Turista Libre, the creation of Ohio native Derrik Chinn, who adopted Tijuana as his home just over three years ago. From beer tastings to gallery crawls to water park visits to guided trips to lucha libre matches, he's done it all; the company is expanding to offer even more regular weekend happenings. Whatever you sign up for, you meet right at the gate into Tijuana, where someone will be waiting with a big sign. It doesn't get much easier than that (turistalibre.com)."

Los Master Plus: Guadalajara cumbiatech in Tijuana

2011-08-13T14:30:00.000-07:00

Guadalajara’s hypothetical love bastards of Malverde and Peaches, Los Master Plus swooned Turista Libre’s mangueritos with their cumbiatech covers of Daft Punk, Kings of Leon, No Doubt, Radiohead and the Bee Gees at their first performance in Tijuana.

But first things first: What's a manguerito? It comes from "manguera," which literally translates to your average garden hose. But in this sense it refers to Mexican narco bottom-feeders whose form of dress generally teeters between two realms. Realm 1: knockoff Abercrombie, Hollister and Aeropostale T-shirts that are three sizes too small, topped off with Ed Hardy hats on their heads and rosaries around their necks. Realm 2: cowboy glam. Tonight, taking cue from Larry Mon and El Comanche, whose combined vibes create Los Master Plus, the look was all about the latter.

San Diegans made up the majority of the 35 or so concertgoers, but also along were a pair Italians, an Argentine, a Spaniard, a strong fort of Mexicans, two half-Bolivians and a recent Kentucky transplant who had never been to Tijuana before. Turista Libre claims great pride in having saved her from the typical first-timer's lushy stumble down Revolución.

After meeting up at the usual spot just south of the pedestrian border crossing in Colonia Federal, the group deadheaded west aboard Turista Libre's red-lit fun bus, piloted as usual by husband-and-wife chauffeurs Benjamin and Pilar. From there we headed to two blocks from the beach for a pre-show bite at Playas de Tijuana staple taqueria Tacos El Frances. Located on Paseo Playas de Tijuana, the place always seems to draw a crowd and is cool with brown-bagged beers smuggled in from the Modelorama across the street but has nothing to do with French food, as the name might suggest.

Then, just a block north, came another round of pre-show beers at staple dive La Tapatia, hidden behind the restaurant of the same name. Black lights and neon posters bathe the bar, also equipped with a small dance floor and a big sound system, and two lone cerveza options reflect the low-frills clientele: Tecate or Tecate Light. Perched at the bar, the turistas nursed tequilitas alongside the few grizzled regulars who were surprised by but no doubt welcoming of the fact that their otherwise quiet Friday nightcap at their local watering hole had been commandeered by unexpected gabacho company.

Back on the bus and finally en route to the show at Ibero, a university situated in the hills surrounding Playas, it was time for Turista Libre's regular prerequisitory dosage of fun and games. Candy rings, Hotwheels sunglasses, packets of Tang and other supermercado delicacies were unloaded to those turistas flaunting cowboy boots and cowboy hats or who actually knew the words to LMP's version of Daft Punk's "One More Time" (Una vez mas, vamos a celebrar, ooo si, muy bien, no pares de bailar).

We pulled in to the venue to catch opener Point Loma, the solo project of Ramon Amuezca (aka Nortec Collective's Bostich), finishing his set with the city's musical ambassador of 2009, "Tijuana Sound Machine." Then Los Master Plus assumed their positions behind their keyboards, slid into their Foakleys, flipped a few switches and turned us into dancing gringo islands in a sea of Tijuana college kids. Among the set list: the Bee Gee's "Stayin' Alive (Quiero Bailar)," King of Leon's "Sex on Fire (Sexo en Fuego)," No Doubt's "Don't Speak (Mami)," Radiohead's "Creep" and, of course, Daft Punk's "One More Time (Una Vez Mas)."

Most critics would probably blah off even any semi-cover band (LMP totes a few original tracks, too) as a big cliche. But the fact that they’re mimicking stuff like Daft Punk a la cumbia makes them a sort of transgenre wonder, if even a cheesy one. Cheesiness is entirely subjective anyway.

More important than the transgenre aspect, however, is the duo as a transborder pop culture phenomenon. Regionalized covers of First World Top 40s are anything but mere covers. These guys are nothing short of Mexico's post-NAFTA reaction to iTunes imperialism, accented with the occasional "que suena, que suena, que sueeeeenaaaaa!" The trade off for an American audience would be seeing a Mexican band in Mexico and not feeling completely marginalized. Music brings the people together, or so she said.

LED belt buckles, gold crucifixes and Foakleys aside, who’s to say whether they’re intentionally ironic or if it’s all a sincerely unknowing display of tacky pride. The video for “Mamarazzi” was filmed mostly in the back of a pimped-out pickup outfitted with a Rolls Royce hood ornament. So who knows.

Honestly, it’s too fun to care. The music brought at least one of us to his knees. Who would have ever thought a Daft Punk song could pull off cowbells?

Proximamente | Coming soon

2011-08-05T17:55:00.000-07:00

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Turista Libre on Telemundo

2011-08-03T17:22:00.000-07:00

Proximamente | Coming soon

2011-07-19T22:52:00.000-07:00

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One good passport deserves another

2011-07-15T13:28:00.000-07:00

Everyone should have a passport, and soon enough, judging by the growing international popularity of governmental dramatics like the Western Hemisphere Travel Initiative, it seems as though everyone will. Or they'll just stay home.

That said, we'll say it again: Everyone should have a passport.

Inspired by the U.S.'s recent move to make passports mandatory to enter the country regardless of citizenship, as well as a growing collective of Turista Libre regulars (self-declared citizens of a nomadic nation of south-of-the-border, stigma-defying fun), we present the Turista Libre pasaporte.

Standard passport size, 3 1/2" by 5", they feature the official Turista Libre logo and calafia seal screenprinted in silver on neon-orange cardstock, bound with neon-green stitching. Todo hecho a mano. Handmade goods, folks.

They're free with your ticket and good for a complimentary beer at all future Turista Libre tours (i.e. not this time, but next time). Two complimentary beers if it's your birthday month.

Upon your arrival at the official Turista Libre meeting spot just south of the San Ysidro pedestrian border crossing, our ever-friendly customs agents stamp it with a visa whose design pertains to the daytrip's theme. Waterpark, waves. Lucha libre, lucha libre mask. So not only is it a cerveza coupon, it functions as a pocket-size diary for Turista Libre recuerdos.

Want one? Send us your name, birthday, birthplace, nationality and a headshot (the more nontraditional, the more appropriate) at least a week before your scheduled romp around Tijuana with Turista Libre.

This is something we should have done long ago. Pero mejor ahora que nunca.

Turista Libre Tijuana Waterpark | ¡El Vergel!

2011-06-28T17:13:00.000-07:00

Waterslides that should probably require helmets. Wandering tambora bands. Ribs on the grill. 44 oz. beers rimmed with chile and chamoy. A Tarzan rope. Chacalones. Cholos. Chulas. Nacas. Doñas calientes. Lifeguards smoking poolside. Everyone says Disney World is the happiest place on Earth. But they’re wrong. Meet El Vergel, Baja California’s largest waterpark.

My life in Tijuana hit the three-year mark before I even knew the city was home to something as monumental as Baja California's largest waterpark. And I completely understand why. It's nearly impossible to find, hidden at the end of what appears to be the last dirt road down which you'll ever travel. Old tires and piles of sun-bleached trash scatter the path leading up to the park's entrance, parallel to the murky aguas negras of the Tijuana River. Even if you consider yourself the world's most worldly gringo, you can't help but wonder what you're getting yourself into.

Had you asked around town before heading down that dirt path, chances are you wouldn't have even made it this far. Though it's been in operation since 1964, El Vergel doesn't exactly boast a hygienic reputation among the majority of Tijuanenses. Horror stories of dirty diapers and tiburones (sharks, a more decent way of referring to turds) bobbing in the lazy river are common, and even the most pro-Tijuana locals consider a trip to El Vergel on par with snorkeling in the sewer. The mere mention of its name usually results in upturned noses and a communal "ew." That said, most would-be haters haven't been since they were 10.

Once upon a time the place was apparently disgusting, and who knows, maybe even deserved to be compared to sewer snorkeling. And that more than obviously explains why most people haven't been since they were 10. But at some point in the late '90s, the owners apparently took the hint: swim or sink. They cleaned up the place and nearly doubled its size, making way for some 10 slides, a wave pool and a separate children's area, and scattered the grounds with grills and picnic tables for BYO barbecues.

Nevertheless, raunchy raps die hard, making El Vergel -- now soaked in chlorine and tiburon-free -- an underground sanctuary for waterpark aficionados from both sides of the border.

Chastised by Tijuana's upper and middle classes, over the years El Vergel grew into a haven of fun for new arrivals from southern Mexico, and the park's scenery mirrors this. Carts selling churros, tacos and corn on the cob line the pavement. Tambora music from multiple mobile acts usually pierces the air on weekends, making for an echoing mess of clarinets and brass. Heavily tattooed cholos bounce in the wave pool with their wives and kids. Middle-aged women in leopard-print neon swimsuits and matching cowgirl hats lounge invitingly beneath palapas. The average shade of skin leans toward the moreno end of the mestizo spectrum, and the intensity of Mexico's obedience to its self-imposed regime of classism is more than obvious. If it weren't for the occasional pocho parent screaming something like "No corras tan fast, mijo! Te vas a fall down!" you'd think you were in some far corner of Sinaloa or Michoacan. El Vergel is La Estrella, at the pool.

White, black, brown, gringo, paisa, fresa, naco, Benz, Buick, whatever. At El Vergel, none of this seems to matter. Everyone's too high on pure adrenaline, and maybe taken aback at how something as simple as a waterslide can blast open the serotonin dam, to even think twice about a sight as out of place as a horde of some 30 Vergel virgins (us), most from north of the border.

Once through the gates and past the Our Lady of Guadalupe boulder, lockers were rented, temporary tattoos applied, beers bought and anticipation was no longer aguantable, it was on to the slides. At El Vergel, they come as a vital lesson to the average foreign visitor to Mexico. One's safety, even in environments such as waterparks where the gringo custom of million-dollar lawsuits usually ensures that an establishment keeps everything up to code, is never to be assumed. Faded plastic monstrosities with chipped paint jobs, most look as though they were purchased secondhand after having been retired for whatever reason from parks somewhere north of the border.

"Ride at your own risk" is the unspoken law at El Vergel, but the tradeoff of the heightened chance of peril is the added freedom to do so in ways never conceivable in the U.S., namely headfirst either on your back or stomach.

The trick to enjoying and more important surviving El Vergel is to first watch and learn from the regulars. You take faith in the notion of "When in Rome," acting all the while upon the following golden rule of thumb: Could I, under any circumstances outside those whose possibility could only be caused by an extreme but unlikely act of God, plummet to my death?

A quick immersion in this concept comes on the Medusa, a nine-lane, double-slope slide that's common to any state fair. At the fair, however, it usually involves burlap sacks, not swimsuits. Only 30 feet tall, the Medusa looks innocent enough. But after clearing the first hill, first-timers often launch into the air, land hard on their backs (and in the same lane only if they're lucky) and spend the rest of the ride spread-eagle with their asses pointed at the sky. Seasoned riders know to stick to the center lanes, sit up and slightly grasp the edges; doing so usually makes for a safe landing.

Coiling around the Medusa are four tube slides (although only two are in use), and while gaining enough speed that you curve so far onto the side that you actually flip over and exit on your stomach is very much a possibility, you ride assured knowing that falling out of the slide is not. Because it's close to the entrance the Medusa is usually the first slide of the day, and even though it's probably the only attraction at El Vergel that could possibly send you to the hospital, it sets the tone for proceeding with caution.

Next up was the Twister, a giant yellow funnel that the turistas collectively dubbed "The Toilet Bowl." Here the idea is to throw yourself down the tube as hard as you can, because again, falling out of a giant funnel is not possible. Headfirst, down you go.

Two flights up from the Twister is the Kamikaze. At 62 feet, it's El Vergel's tallest. It switches from full- to half-pipe just after the drop, which looks to be closer to 90 degrees than 45. The force lifts you a few inches off the slide, and depending on your weight it's a second or two until gravity pulls you back to the fiberglass. Feetfirst, for sure. The drag burns. Back down by the Toilet Bowl are the Kamikaze's mini-me doppelgangers, twin slides of the same design but smaller. Feetfirst or headfirst, either is fun.

Next door is the Avalanche, a wide, rolling 40-foot slide that requires renting an innertube for 50 pesos, but it's yours to use for the day in the wave pool and lazy river. The lifeguard launches you with a complimentary spin, whether you ask for it or not.

Last but not least on the tobogan roll call is El Latigo (The Whip), a 30-foot figure-eight tube slide that, according to the park's website, was the first to be built at El Vergel. Note: built, not reassembled.

For the most part El Vergel may require you to at least entertain the idea of an inner daredevil, but it does include a few options that don't require huevotes. Like the Rodillo Loco (The Crazy Roller), a padded 20-foot rolling tube hoisted seven feet above a pool in between two towers. The idea is to lurch your way from one end to the other or shake off whoever's on the other end a la American Gladiator.

And the Tarzan rope. Up a flight of stairs on the edge of a 7-foot pool, the name says it all, the goal being to swing out as far and as high as possible before letting go. This allows for maximum airtime to at least attempt to look like a twirling badass before bellyflopping like a total jackass. It's perhaps the most essential perk of El Vergel, insomuch that the place is undeniably waterpark in body but a swimming hole in spirit.

And so that's how it went down, lap after lap for hours, stopping for nothing but more beer and a quick bacon-wrapped hotdog or torta especial (lomo, ham, cheese, beans and a fried egg on a huge roll) until we could go no more and one by one wound up on the lone patch of sun-soaked concrete, staring at each other in a waterlogged daze until there was only one thing left to do. Ice cream. Tepoznieves. Some 120 flavors including cheese, tequila, lettuce and jamaica, Mexico's "ice cream of the gods."

Nalga riot

2011-06-26T21:18:00.000-07:00

Proximamente | Coming soon

2011-06-20T20:18:00.000-07:00

Como nos encantan gimmicks.

Coming soon, really soon: official Turista Libre passports. For frequent Turista Libre goers. They're free to all newcomers, and more important, good for a free beer at future Turista Libre tours. Aja, así es. Bring 'em with you whenever adventuring in Tijuana with Turista Libre and they'll earn you a free beer, plus some sort of stamp to commemorate the romp del día.

The first batch of pasaportes goes out Saturday to the 20 confirmed souls headed to El Vergel, Tijuana's waterpark.

Sunday picnic

2011-06-19T20:07:00.000-07:00

'Young, Broke & Beautiful'

2011-06-18T18:05:00.000-07:00

Back in January a producer from Independent Film Channel (the newish network of "Portlandia" fame) emailed Turista Libre about a new series that "highlights off-beat, weird, and wonderful aspects of perpetually overlooked cities," and to say they would be filming an episode in San Diego. And that they wanted to include Tijuana. With Turista Libre. Orale.

The original plan was to take a guy who calls himself Broke-Ass Stuart, a poorman's travel guru of sorts and the show's host, on a locals-only, anti-Revolucion run around Tijuana. But the cost of the insurance policy to cover the crew south of the border, a nonnegotiable must, wound up rivaling their entire budget altogether.

Plan B: Recreate a Turista Libre trek in San Diego, hoping to highlight as much of its Tijuananess as possible. A visit to where the border fence trails into the Pacific. A beer at some Mexican dive. Tacos at El Gordo, edible Tijuana icons, in Chula Vista. A stop at a market for raspados or something. Even Otay Ranch Town Center has a kiosk that sells tostilocos, Tijuana's very own nacho-fruit-nut-lard salad. This should be easy, I thought.

I was wrong.

Tacos were a no-go; Broke-Ass Stuart already had burritos covered. Same went for Chicano Park and Barrio Logan. A lonely little piñata shop in City Heights randomly happened to serve tostilocos, but all the paper Elmos and Tecate cans made for a copyright lawsuit minefield. So no piñatas. And the owner of El Uno Bar on University at the 805, the most Tijuana bar outside of Tijuana in both body and spirit, is such a stereotypical Tijuanense that he was impossible to track down and didn't return until my calls until two weeks after the shoot.

So we headed to Border Field State Park, where a border patrol agent almost ran us down in his Surburban for trying to buy some chicharrones off a guy on the other side of the fence, and to El Take It Easy in North Park, where nacho-fruit-nut-lard salad is one of several Mexican street food items on the menu.

The episode includes the Ocean Beach skatepark, Pokez, Technomania's freak circus show and Heavy Hawaii at Tower Bar.

Check out it out on Hulu before the video expires on Thursday. Or save it for the screening party at, naturally, El Take It Easy 10 p.m. Friday.

Jesus the jock

2011-06-12T19:44:00.000-07:00

Turista Libre Tijuana Craft Beer Tour

2011-06-06T22:22:00.000-07:00

To understand beer culture in Mexico, you first have to understand its lack thereof.

Mexico bows beneath the weight of a historical beer duopoly. Two companies, Grupo Modelo in Mexico City and Monterrey-based Grupo Cuauhtemoc-Moctezuma, dominate the market with a cast that anyone who's ever eaten at Chevy's or On The Border surely already knows, namely Corona, Tecate, Pacifico and Dos Equis. Thanks to these brands, the general international consensus regarding Mexican beer is that it is meant to be consumed in large quantities, preferably in the sun alongside emerald waves or a sand volleyball court, and always requires shoving a lime wedge down the bottle to enhance its taste.

What's more, in Mexico commercial liquor licenses aren't purchased directly from the government but rather secondhand from Modelo or Cuauhtemoc-Moctezuma, which then forbids bars and restaurants to sell anything but their family of brands. It's usually easy to tell who sold out to whom, as more than half of an establishment's sign is usually either a Tecate (Cuauhtemoc) or Corona (Modelo) advertisement, as is quite often the entire side of the building, too. So whether at the grocery store or out on the town, you'll always find an ample supply but minimal variety.

But just across the border, San Diego is home to some of the world's favorite craft beers, including Stone Brewing, Ballast Point, Green Flash and Karl Strauss. The list goes on and on, so much that in 2009 Men's Journal named the city the beer capital of the U.S.

It was only a matter of time before that growing objection to the mass-produced likes of Budweiser, Coors and friends, arguably concentrated in San Diego, would begin to seep its way under the wall and into Baja.

Looking to remove the lime from the beer aficionado's mindset, so to speak, Turista Libre teamed up with San Diego Beer Blog last Saturday for a visit to the headquarters of TJ's namesake brew, Cerveza Tijuana, and two local independent newcomers that are on the rise, Insurgente and Zesde. Also on the itinerary: a visit to The Beer Box, an artisan beer boutique in Zona Rio. And a taco stop at Los Perrones, a taquería that bears a striking resemblance to Turista Libre’s trusty cheese wagon.

Stop numero uno: Cervecería Tijuana on Boulevard Fundadores just south of downtown. Makers of the town's staple grog, it's commonly referred to as TJ Beer. Built in the 1990s, the brewery compound includes a cozy tavern-restaurant with another smaller bar upstairs where I remember witnessing an extremely earsplitting jam session by Tijuana rock legend Javier Batiz on my first visit some four years ago.

Tours are free by request if you come before 1:30 p.m., so the herd arrived in time for one of the brewers to lead us around the floor and explain the brewing process in -- surprise, Virginia! -- English. If you've ever toured a brewery, the setup will look pretty familiar. Aside from the prerequisite homage to the Virgin of Guadalupe hanging near the entrance, that is.

TJ's roster includes six brews, all of which take cue from German and Czech lagers: Morena Dark Lager, Guera Pilsner, Bronca Pilsner, Brava Dark Lager, Bufadora Bock, TJ Light Lager.

SD Beer Blog verdict: "All were good examples of their style, perfect for warm days and long drinking sessions, but maybe a little light for the palates of those used to American craft beer. No one seemed to have complaints though, and Bufadora and Brava seemed to be the most favored among those I talked to."

A quick run to the gift shop for I Heart TJ Beer shirts and we were back on the bus.

Turista Libre's preferred mode of transportation has always been a rented calafia, which is Baja Californian your basic public bus. The chariot of the people, it's the most authentic way to transverse the city. Any American will immediately notice that in Tijuana, as in many Mexican cities, they're actually retired school buses that have been exported from the U.S. But they've undergone paint jobs leaving them usually anything but yellow and extreme detailing that includes a booming soundsystem, no fewer than four or five grotesquely suggestive decals, a small plush army hanging from the front mirrors and colored neon mood lighting for after dark.

But what happens to a retired American school bus after it completes its calafia duty and re-retires in Tijuana? If it's lucky, it becomes a taquería like Tacos Los Perrones, where we headed for lunch after Cervecería TJ.

Housed in a beached bus that's anchored in a vacant lot on the edge of downtown at Revolucion and 10th Street, it's one of several Perrones locations, including the original in Rosarito. They're famous for their hefty carne asada tacos, heavy with beef that's been cooked in its juice and wrapped in an oversized flour tortilla with cheese, beans, tomato, onion and guacamole. A single dose usually fills you up.

With a spacious lot and awnings, it's ideal for a sunny afternoon with 40 or so of your closest friends. Music coming from a TV -- available for purchase for 750 pesos, according to the handwritten price tag -- filled the air while the turistas cleared their palates with a clandestine round of Tecate (oh, the hypocrisy) from the Calimax across the street and patiently held out for their food. Forty tacos take time. Gracias a chef Luis and kin for hauling out the spare tables and chairs.

Next up was Cervecería Insurgente in the food court at swanky Via Corporativo, the first LEED-certified structure in northwestern Mexico.

Run by brothers Damian and Ivan Morales, the upstart home brewery's mission statement is more of a manifesto that celebrates the spirit of revolutionaries, vowing to liberate the people from the tyranny of bland, mass-produced beer (that means you, Tecate, Corona, Sol, Dos Equis, Modelo, Pacifico and so on).

New brewers they may be, but their IPA, brown and stout recently won first, second and third place at the Baja Beer Fest in Ensenada. They're for sale in Tijuana at Tasca Bar downtown on Sixth Street between Revolucion and Constitucion and Tasca Boutique on Boulevard Agua Caliente just west of the old bullring.

On the menu today: Tiniebla witbier, Insurgente Brown and La Lupulosa, or "The Hoppy One."

SD Beer Blog verdict: "Tiniebla, their Belgian-style wit was well spiced with coriander and orange peel, making for nice citrusy and creamy beer. Insurgente Brown, a 5 percent ABV Brown ale was a bit flat and didn’t stand out as much to me, but many people liked it and purchased bottles to take home that the brewers assured us were properly carbonated. Insurgente’s third offering, an IPA called La Lupulosa meaning 'The Hoppy One' made up for any complaints about the previous beer. Brewed with five hops (Cascade, Centennial, Nelson, Warrior and Amarillo) La Lupulosa had a great aroma and flavor with a bitter punch to the taste buds. This is the kind of beer that those used to drinking Mexican lagers will need to work their way up to, but it easily pleased many of us used to hoppy West Coast style IPA's."

After the tasting the group headed to the rooftop terrace to take in some fresh air and the views of the surrounding urban sprawl. In a city with a limited number of skyrises and even more limited access to their roofs, seeing Tijuana from above is no doubt a rare spectacle.

Down the road at The Beer Box, also in Zona Rio, owner Edgar Martinez was waiting to give us the rundown on Tijuana's first artisan beer boutique. The small shop, located in a plaza at Sanchez Taboada and Boulevard Abelardo Rodriguez, cornered the local craft beer market after opening some two years ago, followed by competitors such as Beer City in Villa Las Lomas and Tasca Boutique in La Cacho. Bookcases stocked with room-temperature bottles for sale fill the walls, and Martinez usually has some sort of regional brew on tap in the back. But encouraged by the sip-while-you-shop policy, most of the turistas deadheaded for the coolers for bottles of Baja Brewing Co., Guadalajara-brewed Minerva and Mexicali's Cucapa. Outside on the sidewalk some regular in a straw fedora was grilling tuna steaks, and in accordance to Mexican custom, happily shared.

Last on the day's lineup was Cervezería Zesde, which sells its beer at La Chupiteria, one of downtown's many staple hipster watering holes that line Sixth Street. The name is appropriate; "zesde" is Dutch for sixth.

A trio comprised of Alan Castorena, Juan Pablo Muro and Enrique Seamanduras, the oldest of the three is only 20 years old, which ironically makes the makers of Cerveza Zesde too young to even step foot into most bars north of the border.

Inspired after a beer pilgrimage around Europe, they took a crash course in home brewing and later joined the Craft Brewers Association of Baja California, a government-backed effort to compete against the Cuauhtemoc-Modelo beer duopoly. They've been brewing for only six months but their roster touts seven beers, three of which were on the menu today: Das Falco IPA, Vanilla Sky Stout and Strawberry Fields Ale.

The place already looked and sounded like a late-night afterparty when we rolled up at 8. Alan muted the DJ as he introduced each beer, but the tasting quickly, inevitably revved its way into a full-blown dance party.

SD Beer Blog verdict: "Das Falco IPA had plenty of bitterness, but not much flavor to balance things out. Their next two beers, Vanilla Sky Stout and Strawberry Fields Ale, were better. The stout had plenty of chocolate and vanilla sweetness with roasted malt to balance things out while the strawberry ale had a strawberry sweetness that wasn’t overpowering (although it did get a bit too sweet for me as it warmed up)."

An hour later, Turista Libre was back on the bus, now bathed in red neon and headed for the border, bringing "Get That Lime Outta My Beer" Day to an end with an impromptu Paulina Rubio-Los Tigres del Norte singalong in our loudest, most coherent Spanish possible.

¡Salud!

More photos. More photos. More photos. More photos. More photos. More photos. More photos. More photos. More photos. More photos. More photos. More photos. More photos.

Proximamente | Coming soon

2011-05-18T12:58:00.000-07:00

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Tickets:

¡Junio! | June!

2011-05-09T12:25:00.000-07:00

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Turista Libre Tijuana Basketball Game

2011-05-03T22:30:00.000-07:00

Mexican basketball? Sort of.

Once upon a time, through the '80s and into the '90s I'm told, the popular athletics of this nation's northern reserves directly reflected those of the picket-fenced Jones on the other side of la linea. Baseball. Basketball. Fútbol americano. The townsfolk pledged allegiance to the major league outfits just across the border -- the Padres, Chargers, Raiders and Dodgers -- as if they were their own, even if their only opportunity of seeing any game for lack of a visa to enter the U.S. was on TV. They also entertained, albeit notably less enthusiastically, a notion of pride for their hometown counterparts. Los Potros. Los Galgos. Los Cosmos. Los Dragones.

With the ongoing migrant influx sending in a constant surge of transplants from other parts of Mexico, where a fútbol is always and unquestionably black, white and round, that eventually changed. The sport went from inspiring colloquial slurs you'd spit at some chilango to becoming Tijuana's unofficial international saving grace via its pro soccer club, Club Tijuana Xoloitzcuintles de Caliente.

The love for deportes gabachos still carries on. Plaza Rio Mall includes an entire store dedicated to Padres paraphernalia (something you'd never see for the Potros; gracias, Malinche), and Chargers bolts stretching across the backs of SUVs are just as common here as they are in San Diego. But for the rocky existence of most of Tijuana's past sports teams, building and maintaining a fan base isn't necessarily an easy win.

Meet the Tijuana Zonkeys, the town’s stake in the Circuito de Baloncesto de la Costa del Pacífico. Billed as the “most important basketball league in northwest Mexico,” Most of the 10 teams hail from Sinaloa and Sonora; the rest come from Baja California and Nayarit. Per the league's rules, each team includes three international players, many of whom have played professionally in Europe and Japan. They're also required to have at least one Mexican-American and two or three locals, one of which must be under the age of 21.

Now in their second season, the Zonkeys came to be after their baloncesto predecessor the Galgos underwent an image overhaul and changed their name to the Cosmos in 2005, which soon later went the way of the dodo, followed by the Dragones, an ABA team that folded in 2008. Their inaugural run left them in last place, at 7-32. This year's sizing up to be more of a promising go at the bordertown basketball rodeo, however. They're currently at 8-9.

Named after the donkeys done up to look like zebras on Revolucion -- timeless Tijuana icons for better or worse -- they’re headed by Tony Tee, the notorious and often suspendered TJ party promoter who serves as the team’s director of entertainment and Mother Hen whenever on the road for their two weekly away games.

Home games happen in the city's municipal auditorium, an intergalactic homage to 1980s domed architecture that's located east of downtown on Boulevard Agua Caliente where the crowd averages around 1,500 for weekend games and 300 on weeknights. Not necessarily what you'd call sellout figures. Knowing there's little sense in attempting to compete with what he calls the "beer and tits" of pro soccer, being the newbie minor-league basketball team in town, Tee's gone for a different demographic: the family man.

In lieu of pricey Barbie Doll cheerleaders, he's put the half-time show in the hands of a grade school dance troupe known as the Zonkey Babiez, who pull off a pretty impressive rendition of Michael Jackson's "Thriller." Then there's Dr. Z, the team's official medic who wears a zebra tail pinned to his lab coat. He performs handstands with the Zonkey Babiez and doubles as a comic relief during timeouts alongside the El Florido piggy.

And, taking the familiar vibe farther than the court, Tee's spearheaded a "Zonkids" outreach program where the team pays visit to elementary schools in Tijuana's lower-income neighborhoods. The guys bring basketballs, sign autographs and play with the kids. Pretty admirable.

He's even curated his announcer persona -- the speed of a high-balling auctioneer, the swagger of a used luxury car salesman and a voice that could fit the supporting tonto-go-lucky character in many a Disney cartoon -- to excite the kids.

That night the Zonkeys barely axed Sinaloa’s Frayles de Guasave 110-109. All in all, in typical TJ style, going with the flow was necessary for the fans.

The scoreboard was on an indefinite siesta, leaving Tee to narrate the game in his typical Spanglish dialect, spitting out the current score as often as possible along with the occasional "¡Va-mos Zon-keys!"

And for some unknown reason the beer coolers hath unfortunately runneth dry, which usually isn't the case. Coca-Cola 1, Tecate and Turista Libre 0. Oh well. We sucked it up. For the niños pues.

Before the game los turistas tore through cactus and queso tacos at Sonora Mia at Sanchez Taboada and Cuauhtemoc Sur in Zona Rio, which foodie blog Street Gourmet LA calls “the best of all the great Sonoran steak restaurants in Tijuana.”

Musha mashaca para todos los mushashos. Say that five times fast, Hermosillo.

Turista Libre vs. Mexico travel warnings on Tijuanapress.com

2011-05-02T23:21:00.000-07:00

We're at the 4:00 mark.

Proximamente | Coming soon

2011-04-22T08:41:00.000-07:00

More info here.

¡Mañana!

2011-04-21T15:02:00.000-07:00

More info here.

Chiapas bus stop

2011-04-08T10:49:00.000-07:00

Meeting the diplomats

2011-04-05T18:58:00.000-07:00

U.S. Assistant Secretary of State for Western Hemisphere Affairs Arturo Valenzuela and Deputy Assistant Secretary for Public Diplomacy Fabiola Rodriguez-Ciampoli met with 10 local youth NGOs during their visit to Tijuana on Monday.

The meeting, held at the U.S. consulate general's home, was organized by Reacciona Tijuana, which was kind enough to include Turista Libre on the invite list.

Also present were Junior Chamber International, Jovenes Unidos Por La Sociedad, Grupo Ecologista de Tijuana, Rotaract, Pacto Por La Paz, Club De Niños y Niñas, Tijuana Calidad de Vida and Fundacion Que Transforma.

Each of us had a few minutes to tell about our respective orgs and the role they play in working to improve Tijuana.

Here's the release that RT ran on its website:

On April 4, 2011, during U.S. Secretary of State Dr. Arturo Valenzuela's visit to Tijuana, we had the pleasure of coordinating a meeting with youth NGOs. The goal: to present the projects we're working on, explain our perspective on the challenges of living Tijuana today and share strategies that are being implemented. More than 10 organizations were present each exposing its particularity, but all agreeing that we must continue to build the social fabric to achieve a sense of belonging and community.

We all agreed that our work plans, focusing on issues like the environment, protection of vulnerable groups, improving community life through art and sport, are part of an ideal strategy to prevent some of the challenges facing the city as such violence.

No doubt it was an honor to be invited to be part of the Assistant Secretary of State's approach, especially because the last time he was assistant secretary was six years ago and this was the first time a representative of this department has showed interest in meeting with leaders of youth organizations in Tijuana.

We are true believers that civil society must be organized and coordinated with the government to implement effective strategies and projects before the city issues a detached way. The main protagonist is the city and the people who inhabit it.

Tijuana art tour: overlooked afterthought

2011-03-31T12:31:00.000-07:00

Here's an afterthought regarding Saturday's Turista Libre Tijuana art tour, which included a stop at Centro Cultural Tijuana, from local blogger John Pluecker. Pluecker didn't attend, but he brings up a valid point.

"In the last year and a half I've spent in Tijuana, I haven't said very much about the city or about the political situation here. There never seems to be a shortage of people willing to expound at length about the city: its strange cultural mix, its violence and its sharp contradictions of First and Third World clashing in one locale. Inevitably all the clichés come out: from postmodern laboratory to den of vice, from beautiful Baja (the happiest place on Earth) to scary TJ (the most violent place on Earth next to Juárez).

"In the last year though, I've watched Turista Libre and its tours of Tijuana, lead by Tijuana resident gringo Derrick Chinn. By its own definition, it's a "series of atypical international day tours in Tijuana, Mexico, a caravan that trounces around the city in search of the overlooked and underrated." The mission is simple: "To get foreigners into Tijuana but away from Revolucion. To introduce them the side of the city their local counterparts live on a daily basis. To live for a day as a local in a city that was built for tourists." Definitely an interesting project and one worth watching.

"Last weekend, Turista Libre organized a tour of the Centro Cultural de Tijuana (CECUT) and its new exhibition, Obra Negra. I wasn't sure how to respond to this decision prior to the tour, but I've spent some time thinking about it and now I have some ideas.

"I thought I'd share some information for everyone who went on the Turista Libre tour or is thinking of going to check out the CECUT: I think everyone should be aware that many Tijuana artists have observed a boycott of the CECUT for almost the last two years. Leading artists and human rights activists originally called for the boycott for a number of reasons. The current director of the CECUT, Virgilio Muñoz, was previously arrested for accepting bribes from human smugglers when he was the head of the Institute of Migration in Tijuana. As human rights activists have noted, Muñoz was never tried on these charges due to a web of connections that allowed him to escape scot free. When faced with demands to step down as director last year, Muñoz lashed out at his critics, calling them "more students than artists" and insulting them as inhabitants of "small worlds" while saying that he moved in larger worlds. Perhaps most unfortunately, there has been no response to the demands of the people calling for Muñoz's resignation, no dialogue, no open discussion and little media attention to the issue. In other words, no democratic process at all.

"Recently, a number of artists have also criticized the way the Obra Negra exhibition was organized and curated as it does not include the entirety of the artistic communities of Tijuana, since a large number of Tijuana artists are currently boycotting the CECUT. In addition, a number of artists' names have been used to promote the exhibit after having made explicit requests not to be included in the exhibit.

"Unfortunately, these issues have not been well-reported by the media either in Tijuana or in San Diego. I wonder if any of this was discussed on Turista Libre's tour. I hope someone brought it up and I hope there was some discussion of these issues. In my opinion, if we, as gringos, are going to come to Tijuana and involve ourselves with its communities, we have a responsibility to inform ourselves of the complex situation on the ground here, as difficult or contested as it may be."

I'll honestly admit no official discussion of the Muñoz scandal took place during the day. At least on my part or that of the CECUT representatives who accompanied us or any of the artists whose studios we visited. The group would have no doubt found it relevant, despite the fact that many of the people on the tour were visiting the museum for the first time.

Turista Libre has never been about hiding any of Tijuana's complexities. Those who truly inhabit the city know the only way to do so while maintaining some level of inner-calm is to first accept those complexities for what they are, and later deal with them in whatever way one feels appropriate.

That said, it's nearly impossible to take two steps in Tijuana without crossing paths with a situation like this. Prior to last month's Turista Libre trip to the Xoloitzquintles soccer game, it would have then too been only fair to run through a few of the many shady extracurriculars of the team's owner, former Tijuana mayor Hank Rhon. That didn't happen either. What did happen was a lot of jumping, chanting, singing and laughing on the part of 30 or so gringos who were feeling a lot less gringo than the usual visit to Tijuana usually permits, thanks to the surrounding masses of surprised but welcoming Mexican soccer fans.

Regardless, Pluecker said it best himself:

"If we, as gringos, are going to come to Tijuana and involve ourselves with its communities, we have a responsibility to inform ourselves of the complex situation on the ground here, as difficult or contested as it may be."

Turista Libre: Tijuana art tour

2011-03-31T01:20:00.000-07:00

From local trash making it onto gallery walls to local shorts making it into Cannes, March's "Turista Libre Tijuana Art Tour" was an inside look at the border city's contemporary art scene via a series of visits to the studios of four internationally prominent artists: Shinpei Takeda, Enrique Ciapara, Giancarlo Ruiz and Jaime Ruíz Otis.

Total turista headcount: 35.

The day started with a lap of "Obra Negra," the new three-gallery exhibit chronicling the visual history of Tijuana as a cultural entity in CECUT's 2008, $9 million expansion El Cubo. Leading the pack with a narrated tour was co-curator Carlos Ashida, followed close by Turista Libre official translator del día Fabiola Mercado.

"Obra Negra," or "Black Work," refers to the visual incompleteness of the city, a work in process that in its 120-some years continues in a state of constant, drastic change. Organized by themes rather than in a chronological timeline, the show covers Tijuana art inspired by pop culture, violence, migration, industry, tourism, high society and everyday life. Tying it all together is the role Tijuana's artists have played in suggesting a collective identity to the community over the years, often a novel afterthought in a transitional bordertown where the common goal is to make it to the other side of the fence as soon as possible.

The show includes the work of about 150 artists, so it's a trek that deserves at least two or three hours of your time. Hardcore Anglophones: if you go, bring a dictionary. You'll need it to read the signage, all of which is relevant but strictly in Spanish.

CECUT is free on Sundays, and within walking distance from the San Ysidro border crossing on Paseo de los Heroes and Cuahuatemoc Sur next to Plaza Rio Mall. "Obra Negra" runs through July.

A few blocks down the Via Rapida, lunch was waiting at Cielo Restaurant and Water Bar in Via Corporativo, the first certified green structure in northwest Mexico. Just a week earlier the place had fed Top Chef Masters-winning chef Rick Bayless, who paid a visit while scouting locations around Baja for the next season of his show, Mexico: One Plate at a Time. Bayless apparently approved; the shoot is slotted for April.

On the menu today: chipotle chicken ceviche tostadas and tamarind water.

Then it was off to Playas, to the beachside home of filmmaker Giancarlo Ruiz, whose Tijuana-shot "St. Jacques" screened at the 2010 Cannes Film Festival as part of the Short Film Corner. But on the bill today was his campy "Los Z," a 2009 short about a couple of American hicks who come to Tijuana on a prescription-free pharmaceuticals shopping spree. They wind up stuffing a pair of piñatas full of pills only to realize getting them back across the border will require the help of a family of smugglers known as "Los Z," who turn out to be singing zombies.

Ruiz said he'd never shown it to an American audience and was eager to see how the group would react: slightly confused by the bits that lacked subtitles but amused by the "Tijuana for Dummies" guidebook and the pudgy, loudmouthed wife referring to her taco-fed Montezuma's revenge as "waterfalls of hell."

Afterward Ruiz fielded a few questions -- Why zombies? Why do they sing? Does the "Tijuana for Dummies" really exist? -- and everyone looked a lot less confused when he admitted to being a John Waters fan.

Next up was the downtown workspace of Jaime Ruiz Otis, Tijuana king of dumpster diving. The self-described "trash chooser" bases his work off discarded scraps that he finds outside maquiladoras: UPC labels he arranges into organic patterns on sheets of colored Plexiglas, water fountains he rigs inside towering stacks of plastic storage tubs, floor sculptures he makes out of coiled strings of plastic wheels, bicycle reflectors he arranges into massive wall hangings.

Otis' concept fits Tijuana as well as Tijuana fits him, rescuing the leftovers, the unwanted and the used, "defragmenting the invisible significance of industry" and reassembling it all in a way that makes me think back to Cub Scouts, when we were given brown paper bags full of miscellaneous crap -- a Dixie cup, a light bulb, four Legos, eight paperclips, two straws and a few pipecleaners -- and made to turn it into something significant and worth not throwing away.

When asked about the weirdest thing he's ever found in the garbage, he laughed hesitantly and diverted everyone's attention to his collection of alien-looking computer stereo shells.

In his studio below the giant Mexican flag in Colonia Morelos, Osaka-born, Tijuana-based Shinpei Takeda presented "Alpha Decay," his multimedia documentation of Japanese atomic bomb survivors living in the Americas.

In 2008 Takeda traveled from Vancouver to Tijuana, interviewing victims who relocated from Japan after World War II. The countless hours of editing footage -- hearing the same horrific memories over and over again -- required him to digest the trauma of his subjects, he explained, which caused him to go "a little crazy."

"Whatever goes in must come out," he said. "Whatever we eat, we must shit. Otherwise we get fat."

Needing to emotionally defecate all that he'd swallowed, Takeda extracted the documentary's aesthetic chaos and applied it to geometric form: a giant walk-in box whose shape was inspired by the human intestine, with video and audio outlets from his interviews, images of their sound waves and so many photos piled on top of each other that they looked like angular confetti.

The piece was on display at CECUT through mid-March. Now it serves as his new ceiling.

The day ended with a champagne and Bohemia mixer at Enrique Ciapara's studio, a former roller-skating rink in downtown Tijuana, something Sezio blogger Angella d'Avignon had been anticipating since she wrote this earlier in the week:

"I first saw this painting hanging on the wall at El Take It Easy as part of a solo Enrique Ciapara show. I was in a business meeting shoved in a booth and trying to be professional. I was so taken by the jaunty shapes and raw strokes of this piece that I found myself staring at it for the duration of drinks. The colors are muted and seem municipal -- grass greens, cement greys and backyard fence browns crowd around one long strip of bright blue making a dreamy mirage of a city."

Ciapara kept it really informal. He spoke with people one-on-one as they approached him and let the rest graze his work in progress at will. He did keep scanning the faces for his one wishlist guest, Mark Quint of Quint Contemporary Art in La Jolla, who we invited but never heard back from.

So Mark, if you're reading this, Ciapara would love to have you over at your earliest disposal. It'd be more than worth your while, too. His girlfriend makes a mean Nilla-Wafer-Lechera-lemon casserole.

Proximamente | Coming soon

2011-03-17T11:28:00.000-07:00

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