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A Party Party
I spent the morning editing and dodging the advances of the aforementioned (not so cute after a time) fellow who brought me the yogurt. Then he and Paul and I went down to the punk market. There were puppies!
The interns were leaving, and someone suggested attending a party, so we ended up at this grotty place in the sketchiest building I'd ever been inside:
This is one of the nicer corners. It's cool 'cause you can see the first floor from the second floor.
It was a strange space because it looked like the worst possible crackhouse but everyone there was a hipster. Then my construction training kicked in. I looked up at the ceiling at some dangerously dangling wires, and realized the wires weren't actually attached to anything inside the ceiling. They were just sort of nailed there. The whole thing was, as some folks there put it, a sub-realist installation piece.
Turns out we were in the "cultural centre" of the Social Democratic Party of Mexico. It was a Party Party! They were playing some decent techno music, and Paul and I chatted with the leader of the local group, who is also the neighbourhood drug dealer. A bunch of folks were excited that we spoke English and a bit of French, and everyone came around and chatted excitedly about politics.
Anyway, Paul and I would have gladly stayed longer, as we thought it was a cool scene, but the interns were still sketched out and decided to go to a salsa place. By then I was starting to feel sick, so a few folks walked me back to the Casa and I went to bed.
Not before taking a few more pictures, though.
Joey (one of the interns) and Paul. I don't know where those glasses came from, but they were certainly getting around.
Left to right: Lise, me, Paul, Joey, Dyani.
We are so hipster it's not even funny.
The interns were leaving, and someone suggested attending a party, so we ended up at this grotty place in the sketchiest building I'd ever been inside:
This is one of the nicer corners. It's cool 'cause you can see the first floor from the second floor.
It was a strange space because it looked like the worst possible crackhouse but everyone there was a hipster. Then my construction training kicked in. I looked up at the ceiling at some dangerously dangling wires, and realized the wires weren't actually attached to anything inside the ceiling. They were just sort of nailed there. The whole thing was, as some folks there put it, a sub-realist installation piece.
Turns out we were in the "cultural centre" of the Social Democratic Party of Mexico. It was a Party Party! They were playing some decent techno music, and Paul and I chatted with the leader of the local group, who is also the neighbourhood drug dealer. A bunch of folks were excited that we spoke English and a bit of French, and everyone came around and chatted excitedly about politics.
Anyway, Paul and I would have gladly stayed longer, as we thought it was a cool scene, but the interns were still sketched out and decided to go to a salsa place. By then I was starting to feel sick, so a few folks walked me back to the Casa and I went to bed.
Not before taking a few more pictures, though.
Joey (one of the interns) and Paul. I don't know where those glasses came from, but they were certainly getting around.
Left to right: Lise, me, Paul, Joey, Dyani.
We are so hipster it's not even funny.
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PUPPIIIIIES
You hipsters all look so charming at your party party.
I am trying to remember my Spanish without looking it up. "Volver" means...to return to a place? I do not remember empezar.
Re: PUPPIIIIIES
Re: PUPPIIIIIES
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