Saturday, 2 April 2011

Lost in Chihuahua

A year ago exactly, was travelling around the Copper Canyon. Remember waiting around in the sun in the middle of nowhere, trying to hitch a ride.... Out of the blue this pick up truck pulled over, they pulled the window down to reveal a white man and a native. His strong irish accent gave him away immediatley, his name was Mark and he'd been living in the copper canyon for thirty years helping and supporting local tarahumara communities. He gave me a lift and offered to put me up for a night or two in a tarahumara settlement, I took up the offer. The dirt track (if that) to Huisuchi was appalling and rather dangerous,and all the way his insecent chit chat about his horror stories in the canyons was most entertaining. I had no idea the place he was leading me to was a drug plantation, but I trusted him, his only advice was that I don't speak my mind to the locals as it would cost me my life and possibly his. After him introducing me to his local friends, it felt a bit tense being around people who had actually murdered and killed, though after a while I relaxed a bit as they turned out to be fairly pleasant folk who adviced me on what routes to take and where to go, I just wouldnt want to piss them off, thats all.

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