When you walk in Tulum, you become accustomed to seeing bones.

There are full fledged skeletons sitting on park benches, skulls with sunglasses and jaunty caps, shelves full of ceramic heads with smiling teeth and bulging eyes, crosses and saints, religious retablos and long haired corpses. It is February and Halloween has long since been packed away in warehouses.

In Mexico and other warm climates, death is never packed away. It is on display and in your face as you sip coffee, have a pina colada on the beach, drive in a taxi to tantalizing tourist adventures.

I sit next to this fellow and have a conversation about the best beer in town.

He tells me he misses drinking,going fishing, his wife and kids.

He tells me he doesn’t have much advice, but his all time favorite is that ” people hang themselves in their own nooses.”

I ask him what noose caught him?

He says, to me, ” You got an hour? ”


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