Tuesday, 15 July 2008
I sit here writing, about 15 miles from the Mexican border. My host assures me that, contrary to my pleading, I really, really, don’t want to go to see Tijuana, which lies just on the other side of the border, in Baja California (the Mexican bit). He says that I could get shot, kidnapped, or even overcharged. But the brothers were moved by my distress and frustration, and sent David, a brother, and himself Hispanic, south on a mission. I had joked about wanting to do the tourist thing, eat chilli and buy a sombrero—I have horrific memories of standing a the airport waiting for visitors to emerge from Arrivals, and seeing hordes of sunburnt British holidaymakers emerging from their flight from the Spanish costas wearing only shorts and ridiculous sombreros. So it was a joke, guys, all right? Only the problem is that the brothers seem to have taken it seriously, and after the Exercises on Sunday, I was presented with a perfectly enormous black and silver sombrero, which David had gone all the way to Tijuana to get for me. It is quite gloriously camp and over the top, so I thought I ought to pose in one or two stereotyped Mexican poses just so you can appreciate it. Getting it home gave me some thought. There is no way I want to emerge from Arrivals at Heathrow wearing that. So John, ever the thoughtful host, said I could leave it here and he would post it. Bless him.
Posted by Pastor in Valle Emeritus at 00:49