Brecha

A common term used for a road that is not a road. It's more of a path but to call it one would be an exaggeration. A flat (sort of) rocky piece of sinewy way meant for mules but used by cars - the sort of road where you wouldn't be surprised if you had to drive past a creek or two to get to your final destination.

The views are inevitably beautiful and precarious as your soccer mom van teeter totters over a 50 foot cliff with little more than a sand bank between you and that beautiful weightless feeling that led us to explore the skies. People say it's part of tradition, that it's part of a Mexico that's fading into nothingness and that the youth will sorely miss 10 years from now.

The youth 10 years from now will wake into a world where internet has always existed, where we pop a morning pill to protect us from the penetrating UV rays because the ozone hole is now just the hole. Where communication could travel at faster than light speed and everyone has flying cars and last names like Jetson. And yes, robots work for us and follow Asimov's laws except that in this movie they don't go psycho on us.

We even put a stopper on death for a while.

Saramago has detailed a thesis on just this topic and the results are not pretty. As much as we would like to extend our brief instance on this earth nature (like England) prevails.

And as always I digress down a brecha myself only to get to my point (insert a sardonic remark here).

The brecha is the last bastion of true Mexican expression; ignoring of course all of the artisan work that the indigenous populations hock in flea markets around Mexico as well as the family run businesses selling everything from hand-made corn tortillas to spicy chillied candy of unclear origin.

A piece of road that washes away two or three times a year during raining season - a road that would be better of if it were only cobblestoned or paved. It's always a quick fix and a hopeful prayer that leads to the reconstruction and people like. Curves so tight and lanes so narrow so as to only let a car pass at a time - and the local farmers will never cease to park on the banks as well as host entire fiestas completely unaware of how horribly they disturb Mexico.

I love it here.