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By Austin Dalley. By Contributor. By Steven Knollmeyer. And that is how the adventure began. Like asian, you can throw a stone from San Diego and it might random land in Tijuana — ask Jo, she went too. Since I have studied Spanish practically my whole life, constantly surround myself with Latin American culture and am a devout follower of the religion that is Mexican cuisine sex How could I ever resist crossing the border? InTijuana was named as the 5th most dangerous city in the world by Business Insider.
Even asian this violence rarely affects travelers and usually tends to stay between cartels, the negative press was enough to terrify my family. Like any good son, I decided to strike a compromise so my parents could live at peace with my decision. I called up a Mexican-American amigo who was living in San Diego and he agreed to introduce me to the city.
Before I knew it, my folks gave me the green light, and my pal Eduardo and I set off to the border. Reggaeton blasting at full volume, Eduardo and I pull into our beach villa in Rosarito. This lively seaside village, historically part of the municipio de Tijuanaacts as a relaxing refuge from the metropolitan chaos of the city. Most of our time in Rosarito, as you can imagine, revolved around the beach.
At the same time, a mariachi band played some local tunes at the table next to us. My parents were somehow convinced I would Tijuana up dead on this crazy adventure to Mexico, but I never felt more alive. Eduardo and I eventually sat down at two isolated stools on the sidewalk, far away from all of the action. Ohhh yes abuela, I was dying of hambre. In sex evening, we grabbed some Dos Equis from a random Oxxo and Tijuana on the beach while the sun set below the horizon.
Aside from the drunk girl who almost fell off her horse right in front of us, everything just seemed… blissful. However, our Uber driver disagreed. Come on…. He still dropped us off at the red light district, claiming we would thank him later. Not sure where he got that impression. Anyways, thanks to the guidance of my main chica, Mexican Siri, we scurried down some side streets and eventually reached this beauty. The Millennium Arch, constructed inrepresents the gateway to Latin America.
However, it was clear that we did not need this arch to tell us we were in Latin America.
The sensory overload took me over, but in the best way possible. The chaos, sounds, and smells of central Tijuana made me fall in love all over again. Waves crash along the shore as I come face-to-face with a massive wall. This is what separates the United States from Mexico. From where I stood, I could easily grasp the contrast between both sides. On the Mexican side, locals leaped into the shore break, food stands weaved in and out of crowds, and boom boxes sent waves of Daddy Yankee and Ozuna into the air. Meanwhile, the other side of the wall remained barren and empty. There was not a soul in sight.
The wall was a spectacle in itself. The Mexicans turned such an ugly reminder of division between fellow human beings into something beautiful. One local told me that back in the day, there was no secondary wall along the border, only the bars.
In fact, they could hug their relatives through the bars who made it to the States, have lunch together, and talk about their lives face-to-face. Nowadays, the mesh prevents any physical contact — although loved ones can still technically see each other for a few hours every weekend under the intense supervision of border patrol. Walking away from the border brings you to a packed boardwalk adorned with taco stands, restaurants, and shops. This area is called Playas de Tijuana. The daughter of the owner encouraged us to climb the raggedy staircase behind her to watch the sunset as she followed us with our comida and some coronas.
Witnessing local families enjoying quality time together on the beach, the unforgettable smell of freshly-cooked tacos, and just the pure joy in the faces of everyone around us — we realized that maybe the Mexicans knew a secret about how to live life that is still foreign to us on the other side of the border wall. One shot became two, became three, became four.
Tequila was on the menu tonight, we were in Mexico after all. Eduardo and I found a fiesta at Club Fusion and it was time to see what the nightlife in Tijuana was really about. If they can do it, heck, we can too. Now, you may know that I talk the talk about alcohol and getting messy, but what I always forget about is how terrible EVERY hangover is By Danielle Conlon.
And I think we can all agree that a lot has happened since, the By Sathya Migdal.
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The Third Time Waves crash along the shore as I come face-to-face with a massive wall. The Fourth Time One shot became two, became three, became four. Sunset in Playas de Tijuana. We climbed the staircase and claimed our free margarita at the bar.
A drag show was just finishing up and the stage was cleared for the public. Finally, I could let out all of my emotions on the dance floor.
Anyone who knows me can attest to my love for Latin music, and I can honestly say I never wanted the night to end. Luckily, a cart of fresh quesadillas greeted us on the sidewalk as soon as we left — and of course, I devoured not one but TWO of them. How was your experience? Written by Mike Antonio. Write a comment.
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