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Denman and I noticed this ride hanging out in the back of El Puente (a cafe run by the folks at Casa del Pan; where we often do breakfast), then ran into the guy responsible for it this morning. 

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Our dear friend Kristin, is momentarily battling a fierce case of intestinal parasites and doing some of the most badass English-language coverage of anti-authoritarian struggle here in Mexico.  You should check it out.  We go way back, and I got into all sorts of shit being the one guy naive enough to think taking up on the margins with her in a particular collective would be a painless process.  In appreciattion, when her cable company gave her free passes to a water park, I got to tag along.  When Stateside, she also helps manage the Rebel Imports Collective , which you should also hit up.  I swear by the Zapatista medium-roast, in case you were wondering.

Sadly, her condition is not improving as quickly as she'd anticipated, and will not be joining us when we skip San Cris in a few days.  Coupled with her recommendations about adjusting our personal aesthetics so as not to draw the curiousity of the pigs (which would require Denman to purchase clothing that is not black; a shift that I'm certain would cause clocks to run backward), we may be adjusting our plans a bit.

I know.  That title means nothing to any of you.  It will.  Be patient.

Denman and I arrived back in San Cristobal a few hours ago, checked into our room, and promptly set about stuffing our faces.  We'll be here a few days, while we figure out what we're doing next.  Our time in Oventic has come to an early end, as it turned out to be really mentally/emotionally taxing for Denman to constantly feel as though he couldn't adequately communicate.  I totally empathize, and as I spent the last three days passing every meal I ate within an hour of eating it, getting out of the mountains isn't the worst of all possible worlds, right now.

I've got another videoblog coming, so keep it in your pants.  I'll try to knock as much as I can out this weekend, and get it up on here by Monday.  In the meantime, some new photos have gone up.  Check'em out.

Self-explanatory, kids.

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Oh, what a life we give,
towards obsessions and curled toes.
And the death-line that's running through our friends,
as well as foes.
- Kind of Like Spitting

I awoke this morning, my final proper morning here in San Cristobal before heading back up the mountain to Oventic for the week, with the desire to race out the door of our room here at a local hostel and threaten to drag a certain inebriated jackass out of the compound and push him in front of a moving truck. I looked over to see Denman had arrived at a better idea; face down as he was with his pillow over his head.