Interlude in Mérida

There´s a wildlife guide here living just up the street from our hostel. He talks like Scarface and struts like Jagger. His name is Anthony Fernandez. He´s had 45 days sober but today came crushing down. We´re all out drinking. Anthony is torned between angst and anger. His family life is a mess. He selfmedicates with weed.

He says “I am a good man”, it´s a battlecry, almost like an excorcism. We rid the demons with Cuba Libres and the soft mist is descending around the parc, shrouding the glow from lampposts and carlights. Everything dizzy, foggy, mysterious.

Anthony cries “I am a good man! My kids come to me for money I say here, take it, whatever you need, I give you.”

I´m chainsmoking like I´m trying to compete with the mist. I order two more beers. I wish I could help him in some other way but I recognize the state his in. There´s a swedish song, roughly translated, “tonight I´m no good for myself”, and when your in that state you´re dead-set on whatever selfdestruction that may come your way.

“I am a good man!”

Well, I think you are Anthony, and I wish you the best of luck.


2 Responses to “Interlude in Mérida”

  1. so complicated, we humans seem to make life sometimes. I hope the best for him too.

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