this city where i first discovered my mother, my grandfather; discovered alone. i have missed the mountains, the sea, but everything is just a bit dirtier this time around. there is more garbage; i forgot at first to love the sea. i have not forgotten the mountains. i am more obsessed than ever with the mountains. the hot rocks. here, i lay on the stones and sweat just to sweat, the sea a constant at my feet. there are many pulses in this small town. everything seems fake and americanized: roasted corn, thin hamburgers, greasy meat, carnival rides. everything is louder. but this time my sister is with me and so now i discover her. now she sees the mountains as i see them and it is a wonderful thing to hold her hand while we walk barefoot across the too-hot asphalt. ‘look at the mountains’, she says, and i am, i am looking with her already.
i love being back here with the salt and the winds are coming now. this will make the sea wild and it is the wildness i love. today the waves crashed relentlessly and i lay there just to hear the sound, for once silence between the three of us – my sister, cousin, and i. it’s the elements i can understand here, if nothing else.