surreal busride to my birthplace
first, the films. never back down back to back with the visitor. both films in which [in both cases particularly hot] men of color teach a [less-hot] white man how to control his emotions. two diametrically opposite representations of american culture— what wierd curatorial whim led someone to choose such a bizarre double-header??? as one can imagine, the latter film interested me more than the former, mostly for the odd scenes of richard jenkins (the dead dad from 6feet under) playing the djembe drum dressed as an ivy-league economist. lots of drummer cumface, not a lot of sexual payoff, despite Hiam Abbas being as hot as a middle-aged Syrian widow can possibly be. not a very cathartic film overall.
still ruminating this, the bus stops in Ayacucho, a small farming town, and a family unit of 3 gets on behind me. two grandparents, rural working-class, and a grandchild, around four. cardboard cigarbox, in which are two fledgling parrokeets! unbelievably cute, even when squacking and chirping, jiggling like parkinson´s at the smell of food, too young/retarded to use their half-formed beaks yet, cute overload. handing back the box, i notice that grandma is breastfeeding junior! Somewhere in all of this there is an ensayo nacional just screaming to be written.