Swarms and flocks and gaggles of tourists are, well, swarming and flocking and gaggling to ts and taking all the parking spaces (will it ever end!) to see the art festival, which is very nice, yes, 3rd-10th, but might not be quite what they expected. How we love to startle tourists... The town is a very nice town, don't get me wrong, but some (no naming names. No blaming blames. The world isn't a perfect place though.) come here, sometimes from the Cabos, and they're like, "what!" because it's not every now and then a mexican, you see it's every now and then a us person and not just mexicans in white coats serving them, real mexicans, real people, and then you realize it's not a game and it wasn't built up just for you and swept clean just for you and if you try to make a difference we'll laugh behind our hands at the silly, silly doogooder gringo and life will just continue on the way it always was, there will just be one more thing for all the people with cell phones to gossip about, because they were here before you heard of them, of us, and we're staying, but you probably aren't, you aren't Todos Santos material.
But we are, or we were stuck here because we were brought down as minors, or we're in the school system and gossiping behind our wide-eyed stares at the newest gringo trying to explain to the teachers that in the US... In the US! How we've grown accustomed to hating those words, we "ex-pats" and the children that tagged along with them and were grudgingly accepted - it means that not in a million years will you be Todos Santos material, because you won't let go. You have to abandon your news or you're stuck crying like a fallen baby bird, "home, home!" only you're saying "in the US, in the US...". And none of us are listening.
I'm off to the art festival now.
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