 Frightening fireworks
Rape of Mexico and Mexicans in the name of capitalism
By Hamid Bakhsheshi
July 7, 2003
The Iranian
Couple of weeks ago I was making my daily visit to Iranian.com.
I was at work and was trying to do this fast so I can get back
to work. Came across the little vacation memoirs of a guy and his
wife in Spain [Siamack Salari's "They
knew"]. He went on about how he fell
off of beach chair, some gas escaped and the rest of the story
made
me
laugh
so hard
that I could not explain my teary eyes to my co-workers.
I was in preparation of my short trip to Cabo San
Lucas, Mexico. My wife and I been married for ten years this July
3rd. We didn't
want to spend too much time out of our vacation pool, so we decided
on somewhere close by.
We had been to Mexico on different occasions but
most of them to Tijuana, Mexico, which is right across the border
from Southern
edge of California. For those living in the Los Angeles is it's
a hop skip and a jump to Tijuana.
We drove into Baja, Mexico, a few
years back, which is a bit deeper into Mexican soil. Neither
time were we that impressed. It is nothing like South of France,
Spanish
beaches, or anything close to Southern California beaches.
Mostly dirt, poverty, and dirt.
We had heard a lot about Cabo and I envisioned something great,
like a big resort with fun bars, loud music and just FUN. Boy
I set myself up for this one.
It was dirt, poverty, and more dirt with a little
bit of polish. Many American
hotels, restaurants, and businesses were making loads of money
from using Mexicans and profiting tremendously. It was
amazing.
Most of these nice hotels are on the main streets and a block
behind it are dirt streets and homes made out of tin. The contrast
was
incredible. Not much of gray anywhere. There was black and there
was white.
The depth of sadness in most local faces was unbearable. The
same little kids we had seen in Tijuana were all over the streets,
beaches
and resorts selling the same type of gum, "Chiclets".
I lost count of how much money I gave these kids without buying
a piece of gum. I told all of them, "this money is
for you not for the gum", hoping that they would
put that money away for themselves. Most of these kids were 5,6,
and 7years old.
On our last night there, we went to this restaurant that
served food right on the beach. Really nice, good food and good
music. It was the night of 4th of July and right after dark,
sporadic fireworks were lighting up the skies around us with
some diehard
Americans wearing flaggy shirts cheering and screaming.
After
paying off two or three gum kids and buying some pieces of silver
for
my wife, I noticed this cute little girl with her long hair pulled
back into a ponytail and a beautiful white dress, covering her
mouth and running inbetween the chairs. She came towards us
and ran behind our table into a corner when I realized she was
crying.
I thought someone must have yelled at her or said
something to upset her. I pulled her towards me, and started wiping
her tears
with my napkin. At the same time asking her what was wrong. She
wouldn't say and kept on crying. It took my wife
and me a while to finally realize that she was scared of the
fireworks, apparently she had never seen it or heard it.
Here
we were sitting
in an American restaurant, trying to tell a little local girl
that the fake celebration of some kissass locals are good and
fun and
she shouldn't be scared.
By now my wife is being no help. She was all teary-eyed
seeing my compassion for the little girl, who was clinging
on to me and wouldn't let go. Thoughts of adopting
this little girl or just whisking her away from all of this and
taking her back to USA ran rampant through my head. Not having
any kids, not wanting to have any kids, seeing her in her moment
of need, brought out the fatherhood in me like I had never
experienced.
As we went on in our little vacation, reading this book, "War
and Globalisation" by Michel Chossudovsky, which
I recommend everyone to read yet not on vacation, especially
10th wedding anniversary vacation, I noticed more and more of
America's rape of Mexico and Mexicans. Here they are making millions
using Mexicans and a little girl has to run the beach bare feet
and
cry under the glory of their 4th of July celebration. The oddness
of
the moment was and is heavy on my heart.
The book has answered all of my suspicions of what America has
done in the world in the name of capitalization. It is perhaps
the scariest book I have ever read. It is a constant reminder
of, not only the fact that the White House knew about a September
11-like
attack, they help set it up. All to pave a road to bomb Afghanistan,
to pave passages for pipelines coming through from Kazakhstan,
to predicting a military take over of Iraq towards world domination.
All of a sudden my anniversary, the nice hotel,
all the good food we were consuming with fancy margaritas, and
everything else didn't
matter any more. Disappointment in humanity set in and now, late
Sunday night after my trip I am thinking of the answer I will
give my co-workers tomorrow, when they ask, "So, how was
your trip?"
I hope the little girl is ok and will buy something nice for
herself, maybe shoes.
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Frightening fireworks
