#bus gringo

[anitaencinales]

Sims school bus.

[gringoslur]

gringos: french people are THE revolution agaisnt the goverment!!! its crazy what they do!!!

any calm day somewhere in latam with a minister of security:

[fredwkong]

Do you do any trips to Guatemala? My dad was born there and I would like to go back there again since I only went there when I was a baby.

Thanks for your booking with FWK Vacations! Your Guatemalan vacation is about to begin.

You wake up with the rooster’s crow. You blink owlishly at the predawn gloom for a moment before you feel a burst of energy. That’s right, you need to go handle the chores. Just like every morning.

By the time the sun rises, you’re dripping with sweat, rivulets dripping from under your short black hair down your bare back. Lots of your peers have moved to Guatemala City, but you can’t imagine living in such a crowded, dirty place. You prefer a little village like this on the side of the mountain, taking care of the farm like your father, and his father, and his father, probably back before the Spanish arrived here.

The first tour bus of the day drives past on the dirt road, and you grin as the gringos take in your lithe young body through the dirty windows. There are perks to being a tight-bodied farmboy, too. You just have to pretend you’ve never been with a man, and they put fat stacks of quetzals in your pocket. They love to get the experience of getting fucked by a genuine Guatemalan farmhand.

Enjoy your vacation!

Want to go on vacation? Drop me an ask!

[r0entgen]

Writing to you in English so it reaches more audience.

As a venezuelan still in Venezuela, I appreciate a lot what you're trying to do in this space of the internet. If I could I would. I would post the facts, the statistics, the studies, the books, the evidence of how our country is. I'd even talk about my own experiences. But I can't. I am deeply scared of the government. Half my family is still in the country and I can't talk freely out of fear. I've had friends almost being kidnapped by the military, but fortunately were let free. I've had friends being called to their own personal phone numbers by the government as a threat to stop posting memes and general posts anti government in their public Facebook accounts. I've had people I know tell me in fear in hushed tones how in their recent travel from Oriente to Occidente the bus they were in was researched by military and all the people in the bus had to give their phones unlocked so the military could search up anything, anything anti government, or else they couldn't continue traveling.

I am a venezuelan history enthusiast. The people that claim that our country is going through something planned by foreign governments is laughable. They ignore our history, they silence our voices, they speak over us and impose what we can or not think or believe. And it's sick. How little disregard there is to our own rich history.

Guess what , gringos? The government was deemed since the 80s to fall into an economic crisis!

These are people that weren't even born during the Caracazo (as I am, as are all the people in my life whose lives and futures were ruined), they don't even know what El Viernes Negro was and how it was an omen of how much we were screwing up ourselves. They don't even care to know, they are actively erasing our history. Former president Gallegos well said: el petróleo nos trajo una lluvia de riqueza, si bien fue un chubasco pasajero.

We were one of the first modern world countries to give FREE & EQUAL EDUCATION during Guzman Blanco back in the 1880s and it has remained that way even during the far right dictatorships of Gómez and MPJ. And now? Our public universities, once the best ones in the continent, don't even have professors nor students because most of the venezuelan youth has to decide between either studying and not eating or eating but not studying or neither eating nor studying because they had to flee.

I can't speak my mind, just having Twitter downloaded on my phone can be enough of a reason to be detained.

All the pro government people don't know, and I wish they'd never know what it is like to live this misery.

Thank you, thank you for speaking up, for doing what a lot of us would like to do- write our own history.

Be safe.

I appreciate you reaching out. Also replying in English for continuity.

Trust me when I say - I get you. I get you so much it is almost painful. As a Venezuelan also living in Venezuela, I am a little too familiar with the fear.

But we've had enough of the regime rewriting Venezuelan history, and enough of people comprándoles la labia. Someone who hasn't had to live a day in our shoes will not speak louder. Someone who has actively participated in erasing our history will not speak louder. Someone who can't even locate Venezuela on a map will not speak louder. We will speak up and we will not stop. Ya no tenemos miedo.

Please stay safe and feel free to reach out again if you need someone to talk to. Entre nosotros nos apoyamos.

Te mando un abrazo fuerte. Vamos a estar bien.

[elbiotipo]

Afroargentina here to say those people are deranged fr, there is race issues in argentina but it's none of their business to judge? why won't they simply let afroargs speak for ourselves??? USamericans are oppressors, and benefit from US imperialism, yes, even POC, enough to oppress people in third world countries, specially other POC. Black usamericans moving to africa and latin america and gentrifying local communites bc of their access to us dollars is just one of many examples of that. (1/2)

Let's not even mention how they are so quick to appropriate anything latine, music, food, religion, customs, language, but then turn around and isolate us or throw us under the bus at every chance possible. You simply made a joke calling out white authors for their bs. Isn't that exactly what we always ask white allies to do?? to call out other white people's racism?? you're doing just fine, biotipo. Gringos stfu in latine discussions challenge. (2/2)

I don't think they care about Afro-Argentines and other afro-latinos, if they even know about them. While I'm sure many Usamericans do learn about racial issues in their own country and others, most of the time I find out that when they talk to people from other countries they make absolutely no effort to learn about them. They just want to know your race to see how they can insult you and in what box you fit. Which is… an extremely fucked up worldview, but there they go.

I also love that they assume that we are not aware about the history of racism and genocide in Argentina, as if it isn't taught in schools and as if isn't a major ongoing discussion, as if afro-argentines, indigenous argentines, and other groups aren't organized and pushing for their recognition; these past few years have brought those issues to the national spotlight and I think the discussions so far have changed a lot of peole's minds. But again, yanquis just don't care. It's up to us to learn, care and change our own societies, they don't have anything to offer but meaningless discourse.

I will not comment that much on gentrification and cultural appropiation because it's such a huge topic, but I will say that while it's not as criminal as naked imperialism, it shows that no matter your ethnicity, you can assimilate imperial ideologies and mindsets and try to impose them in other people, and those people will call you out for it.

Thanks for the ask!

[piro-piroooooo]

so, Claudia Sheinbaum has just become Mexico's first female president. I'm watching it on tv right now. The way I see things, very little is going to change. She dedicated part of her speech to make her feminist stance very clear. She uses a lot of vocabulary and ideas from social and feminist causes to make herself look progressive and cool. She might or might not personally adhere to these beliefs, it doesn't really matter.

I don't think her term will be significantly different to previous terms. Some things will get worse, lots of people will die of preventable causes, some things will get privatized, the country will still be owned by private companies and controlled by organized crime. And maybe some things will get a bit better. She's as terrible as her predecessors and as good as them. I don't see any point in either supporting or hating on her.

Something I am going to say is that I'm extremely annoyed by two things:

1. International sources and media unconditionally supporting this woman because she is a self proclaimed feminist jewish woman. Sure, she might be, but she's also a politician who will throw under the bus those causes the moment it's convenient. In short: shut up gringo, this is not a Mexico win, just another president.

2. Mexican conservative groups thinking Claudia and her party are turning Mexico into an anti-catholic communist dystopia. And saying we will "become just like Venezuela", on top of that. As if they understood or cared about Venezuela. "OHHHH it'S nOt heR wHo's in cHarGe, it's the pReviOus prEsidEnt and the ParTY and nARcOs aND cOmpANiEs", yes idiot, just like all previous presidents, that's how the country works, congratulations on realizing that. And I'm already seeing anti-semitism on their narratives.

All I want to say is please be normal about Mexico. Please. And shut up if you don't know what you are talking about.

[littleseasalt]

ok, i worked out fueled by grief over qforever, had breakfast and took a shower so now im more recomposed to be sappy about forever like kia did on her profile despite the fact that i did not sleep at all this night. full text under the cut to not clog the tag and YES I AM GONNA TAG THIS TEXT BECAUSE WE DROVE THE FOREVER BUS I FEEL LIKE WE'RE ALLOWED TO DO THIS IF WE WANT TO 🗣️🗣️

The qsmp is my first direct experience with mcrp and this kind of smp. Previously, my only contact with stuff like this had been dealing with Dream stans on twitter so uh. Not a good light. Before the qsmp i really had a negative view on mcyt and its fans in general (specially when it comes to shipping because i didnt really understood at the time). Then, suddenly on my twitter I saw a commotion about brazilians joining a gringo minecraft series, and that kinda make me go "? interesting", but I didn't really thought much. Then, my uruguayan friend send me the brazilians announcement when it happened, asking me if I knew those streamers.

Now! Fun fact! Unlike 95% of the brazilians in this fandom, these people were, in fact, not my childhood. I knew who Cellbit, Felps and Tazercraft were, of course, they were/are famous as hell. But, at the time they were at the peak of brazilian mcyt, my side of mcyt was the opposite of theirs (I was a rezendeevil fan. long story one day we need to put all the gringos up to brazilian mcyt lore), and previously I had only watched the old guard of brazilian mcyt (venom extreme kind of stuff). FUN FACT! I HAD NO FUCKING IDEA WHO FOREVER WAS! I had literally never heard of that man before and it just seemed so random to me, a random ass guy put along Cellbit, Felps and Tazercraft FEKWGFOIKWRRE

Now, due to them not being my childhood, I didn't really care about the qsmp. Like, oh, cool, brazilians are joining. But that was it to me, I had no interest in watching it at all. Then, the brazilians first day happened while I was sleeping, and my tl was FLOODING with videos about it. I saw fun clips of Cellbit, Felps and Tazercraft and found them funny, but that was it. After that I was just gonna ignore whenever it showed up on my timeline, block tags if necessary.

...And then I started seeing clips of Forever and Philza. And it was the most HILARIOUS stuff I had seen through the week. It was their interactions that made me be ok with the qsmp constantly showing up on my timeline, and it was their interactions that made me be somewhat more okay with mcrp.

So, fast foward a month. By then, I was used to qsmp clips showing up to me and some tweets about it, and then regret arc and guapoduo happened. This made me actually get interested in actively keeping up with the qsmp instead of just waiting for stuff to show up at my timeline. After a few days, I decided I'd hope on a qsmp stream just to see how things are.

This is the fun part: I was meant to be a Cellbit main, considering how it was regret and guapoduo what motivated me to watch a qsmp stream. But when I decided to hop on, Cellbit wasn't streaming but Forever was, and I was like "oh its the philza guy right? yeah im okay watching him" and decided to hop on. I think the first stream of his I watched was the one where he set up the Jaiden stasis chamber at the ordo.

And honestly, at first I tried really hard to keep up with Cellbits pov whenever Cellbit was streaming at the same time as Forever, but it just got harder. I don't know exactly what called me into Forever's pov at the time- maybe it was his relationship with Richas, maybe it was the way Forever was handling rp at the time, which had (and when he's not 100% loreing, still has) a thin layer of meta that just aligned with my current views on mcrp at the time. But Forever ended up being the pov I grew most attached and used to. I'd watch tazercraft during afternoons, sure, and I love them! But the moment Forever would open stream I'd come over running to him. I'd watch Cellbit when Forever wasn't on, but between the two, I'd always pick Forever.

And honestly, as a main Forever pov with a private twitter account and a tumblr lurker at the time BOY it was hard. my man was getting hate for some stupid shit and elections arc is a whole can of worms im not gonna open right now. But I'd never expected to grew so attached to a minecraft pov and to actually keep up with a streamer before- after 2016 I kinda just fell out of keeping up with youtubers/streamers.

And then we have the happy pills arc. This arc CHANGED my brain chemistry. But the pre happy pills arc stream, the one with the clock, I think that's the marking point for me. Because I cried when he wrote the letter to Richas, and let me tell you something, I don't cry easily watching media. The only times I had previously cried were:

Opening up KH3 and hearing dearly beloved for the first time (I had spent MY WHOLE LIFE SINCE 2013 waiting for KH3)

"Unsaid Emily" from Julie and the Phantoms (I have issues with my mom.)

Super Sonic in Sonic 2 movie ( Im a big sonic fan lmao)

So the fact that I cried with that letter SHOCKED ME. Never in a million years I'd have thought I would be crying over minecraft rp. And then in the next day he pulls the rug from underneath out of his viewers feets with the happy pills arc, surprising EVERYONE. The happy pills arc is still my favorite qsmp arc of them all and I hold it very close to my heart.

I think it's kinda funny that I kinda had the same evolution towards rp as Forever did- at the beginning the thought rp was cringe and said he'd only play normal minecraft in the qsmp, and now he delivered us two AMAZING arcs full of rp (I'm never getting over him smiling and crying to richarlystone and the black make up with the bleached hair, what the fuck)

I think I just fried my no sleep brain after writing all this cause Idk what else to write LOL. I appreciate cc!forever a lot for all he has brought to the table in the qsmp, for how he started as "haha funny brazilian man with his antics screaming and being funny obsessed over philza" and ended with one of the most tragic qsmp characters ever. I appreciate cc!forever for changing my view towards mcrp.

And also thank quackity for inviting forever to the qsmp and thank philza for having a urahara skin LMAO things would have gone very different for me if it wasnt for them.

I'll be keeping up with stonkscraft 3, but whenever forever comes back to the qsmp I'll be ready with my arms open to embrace what this man brings to the qsmp <3

also I WAS NOT KIDDING WHEN I SAID MY GRIEF OVER QFOREVER SERVED AS A FUEL FOR MY WORK OUT. i never progressed so much weight before (my leg press is insane wtf) and never did such a well done cardio on a >leg day< before what the actual shit

[envolvenuances]

as the masculine woman who wasn't allowed to use the girl's bathroom in school and to this day have straight women prefer to stand than sit next to me at the bus or question if it's "appropriate" to have me in school staff teaching teenagers. the only "gaslighting" in this is the pretense that it is either a new phenomena or increasing because of The Trans Question being divisive in current gringo politics. when it's classic lesbophobia that always existed and honestly if you ask me things have been improving. but then I do feel like transphobia itself is a restriction of homo/lesbophobia against the mostly visibly gender non conforming of us.

[irenadel]

Due to the Dead

A Pygmalion Story

Set in the Pygmalion verse but no clear timeline because it doesn’t fit with the show dates. Whatever. I do what I want. No proofing we die like Aztec warriors. I’ll come fix it later. I just wanted it done today.

This is for @theonlymanintheskyisme because sometimes you just wanna spend these moments with the people you love. Wherever they are.

“No, that’s fine. If you can handle the tissue paper flowers I got some real ones in Little Oaxaca,” you panted tiredly into your phone, regretting the choice to walk instead of waiting for the bus. “Chocolate skulls too. Pretty good. Pan de muerto is still a no go but I got the candles. Yeah. Yeah. I’ll see you at home. Got papel picado too.”

“Should you really be eating all that Halloween candy, young lady?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, phone still tightly clutched in your hand, but bags spilling out onto the questionable pavement of Park Avenue. Or at least they would have, if the man who had so cruelly and with malice aforethought startled you, hadn’t also been possessed of superspeed. And the uncanny ability to detect when whatever he was pulling off would have been Going Too Far. He caught everything in the nick of time (you had to admire the showmanship) and even deposited the last potted marigold right into your unbelieving hands.

That did make you drop your phone.

“Well,” he said, smiling so smugly it was a wonder no one threatened to slap it away, super powers or not. “That one is entirely on you, and it better not be the phone I got you, missy.”

And you were, suddenly, irresistibly, unsurprisingly delighted to see him. Because you always were and because in the strange dance of your friendship, you’ve come to realize, holidays aren’t really a thing in Homelander’s world.

It’s one of those things you resentfully blame on Vought.

“It’s not Halloween candy,” you answered, your own smile echoing his, making it lose some of that sardonic tilt to it. “It’s for my ofrenda.”

He offered you his arm, using the other to carry the shopping bags you had been struggling with moments ago. You took it, not bothering to hide the renewed joy in your face at his visit. The street was dark and empty as it usually was whenever he came looking for you, respecting always your desire to avoid the spotlight. There was an extra pep in his step and you wanted to believe (but never trusted) that it meant he was happy to see you too.

“Is this more of your unamerican crap?” He teased you, delighted when you took the bait. He liked hearing you get outraged.

“That’s right it is!” You beamed at him. “They’re for my dead! Day of the Dead baby! Time to invite the fam back for dinner!”

He blinked. Twice.

“Come again?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “I celebrate Halloween and the Mexican holiday Day of the Dead.”

“Like in that Coco movie?” The one that had (briefly) knocked that year’s Seven movie out of the top spot at the box office.

“That’s right! We light candles to guide the dead home and we set the table for them. Anything they liked to eat or drink when they were alive. Next day, you eat it, and it’s like you share a meal with your dead loved ones again.”

He made a mock grimace at you and you elbowed him companionably right back. You’d never admit it, under threat of torture, but this was the best part of your day. When he would show up out of nowhere and be yours for however long he could spare. So, you took it in stride when he clicked his tongue at you, playful smile so pleased it had a hint of fangs to it. “That’s a little morbid even for you, don’t you think?”

“That’s just your gringo sensibilities,” you quipped back, your turn to look smug. “I got my Halloween candy from Costco ages ago. The chocolate skulls are for my dead. They’re meant to represent each person the ofrenda is for. So my grandparents. My aunt. My cousin who committed suicide in 2011–“

“It’s a family thing.”

Homelander didn’t ask it, not exactly, but you got the lilt right at the end. The little inflection that signaled interest and deep hurt. Even now you were still surprised by the whiplash of his moods. The way his whole face tensed in that moment and how he looking straight at his own reflection in an empty storefront window. His arm firmly wrapped around yours but somehow still a thousand miles away. You’ve learned he will do this when he’s deeply considering something. You thought it vanity at first, him staring at himself, now it just makes your heart ache for him.

“No,” and you rested your head on his shoulder, navigating his ridiculous pauldron, because you understood. This was important. “My ‘aunt’ was my mom’s best friend when she was studying abroad. She used to visit us when I was a kid. No blood relationship. I just loved her a whole lot.”

He said nothing, and neither did you. But you tucked the potted marigold under your arm and brought your hand to cover his. He didn’t quite recover his smile, but you saw the set of his shoulders relax.

“We’re putting the ofrenda up tomorrow and receiving trick or treaters all night if you wanna—“

It was the wrong thing to say and you knew it the moment he cut you off.

“There’s a Halloween party at Vought,” he said, letting go of your arm. A simple but effective gesture. No more fondness in his tone, just exasperation. As if you should have known better than to ask. Because ultimately, his tone said, he was too important to deal with you more than he already did.

“Yeah?” You tried for cheerful teasing but found yourself putting a little more bitterness in it than you had bargained for. “What’re you going as? Homelander?”

A dignified sniff. “Of course!”

“Why am I surprised at this point!” And this time you did try. You caught up to him, hooked up your own arm to his and found yourself relieved at how mollified he looked by the gesture. “You’re such a nerd.”

“What are you going to be for Halloween, smartypants?”

You turned crimson and avoided looking at him.

“Work and ofrenda prep have fucked up my time. I’ve been up and down all Madison and Park Avenue and no one sells pan de muerto anymore. And if they do, they’ve run out by now. I’m probably just gonna be a sheet ghost or something.”

Homelander rolled his eyes dramatically and sighed, this time his exasperation so clearly an act, that you almost cried with relief. You really did hate hurting his feelings.

Hands on his hips like he’s posing for a poster, he looked you up and down critically, and you knew exactly what to expect. He did this whenever you complained about not having time. Or when he wanted to knock you down a peg or two. It never worked, because you enjoyed it too much.

Over his shoulder you went, bags of candy, marigolds and all, effortlessly, like you weigh nothing at all. It always took your breath away.

“Who’s the lame one now?”

You screamed back YOUUUUU as he lifted off and your answer was lost in the rush of wind and your delighted laughter.

——-

It had been such a simple thing, he’d been surprised you’d managed to fuck it up.

Homelander was supposed to swoop in, tell you about the costume gala and the exclusive one of a kind ticket he’d gotten for you (so you could meet some of the publishing execs, of course… of course). You would have been awed and grateful and there. At the masquerade. Available whenever he needed a break from everyone’s bullshit. You’d have laughed and been nervous and he’d be able to tease you and hear you make catty, and yet somehow impossibly naive and optimistic, comments about Vought…

It would have been so good.

But you had to get all sentimental on him. Show him your silly little art project, with your silly little tissue paper in different colors, and your stupid food for people who weren’t really going to come to dinner. Their pictures, which you set up fondly (people who weren’t him), taking your time and space and thoughts.

He didn’t get it. It all seemed so typically stupid of you. Insufferably sappy.

(So far removed from him. In that strange realm you inhabited where there were childhoods and parents and dead loved ones.)

In Homelander’s world, there were masquerades with professionally tailored costumes. A beautiful woman in a very tight Morticia Adams gown who had tried to chat him up. Her Halloween themed cocktail bubbling and smoking into his eyes.

(You’d said a friend of yours would lend you a bat onesie which he’d laughed at. You’d proudly presented him with a Frankestein green colored flavor powder for milk that you just had to get for the occasion.)

There was also WORK to be done! It wasn’t just fashion models in witchy corsets and perfectly arranged hats. There were senators and congressmen and investors to woo. There was Maeve, already on her third tequila sunrise with eyeballs at the bottom, to keep under careful watch. There was Starlight to control, make sure she didn’t say anything stupid.

(You’d been singing this is Halloween, this is Halloween, while handing him the tail end of the brightly colored banners he’d offered to hang from your ceiling. Loud and off-key, like some bad attempt at a Halloween carol and when he’d complained that didn’t sound very Mexican, you’d reminded him since he was here, this was officially a Mexican-American celebration now.)

Starlight was the only one who had insisted the Seven should’ve worn different costumes. You’d have liked her, he thought with a smile. Equally stupid, the both of you.

“Nice seeing you enjoying yourself for once, Homelander.”

Some nameless politician he barely recognized. No one important. But he’d seen the brief elusive twist of his mouth. He almost lasered him then and there for the intrusion. But damn it, he was trying to work. You had no right to interrupt him like this when he was at work.

He listened to the man drone on about oil imports and the need to protect global human rights, while he thought about the pumpkins you’d bought. Too little to carve, scattered around your ofrenda thingamajing. Water and salt, candles to light the way home for your dead, and to represent fire. Incense too. The paper crafts (jeez you were such a child) were meant to be the air (papel picado) and the pumpkins stood for the earth. It was supposed to be in tiers, because of the various underworlds in the afterlife.

You can add someone if you want, you’d told him and he’d felt like you had knocked the air out of him. Or at least how he imagined that would feel. It’s really a multiple day holiday. The 31st is for dead babies and then November 1st is for children. So you can come over anytime up until the night of the 2nd and we can add whoever you want.

Your roommate had been so cheerful she’d even managed to look like she didn’t hate him quite so much. (You just ran with people with terrible taste). Yeah! Get your contacts at Vought to hook us up with some pan de muerto and you can add anyone you want to the ofrenda.

You’d had to explain what that was. Sweet pastry with orange blossom water and sugar sprinkled on top. Good for dunking in milk, you’d teased him. The dead liked it. But he didn’t have to bring any, just a picture of his dead if he wanted. He’d scoffed. Had told you he wasn’t like you (sentimental, prone to losing, weak). You hadn’t pressed the issue.

(He’d never even asked her what food she liked. He didn’t have a picture… did he?)

It took no more than a second to decide.

“Excuse me, senator Brown.” He clapped the old man’s back, making him let out a small umphhh of protest. Homelander smiled wider. He could already feel his mood improving. “I’ve an important meeting to attend. No, no, sir. Thank you for your time tonight.”

He didn’t even bother to respond to Maeve’s frown of surprise or Starlight’s questioning looks. Let them deal with his absence for now. He owed them no explanations or concerns. He called Ashley not to give her any warning but to put in an order. They should know a good bakery, right? Anything for Homelander, right? And if that wasn’t right, then he’d be making it wrong for everyone else.

He just needed to pick up a couple of things from his suite.

——-

“Is this it?” He’d asked climbing through your room’s window because the living room one was papered over in papel picado. He hated the worried edge to his voice but felt his ruffled feathers soothed both by your look of surprise and then your arms thrown around his neck.

“You made it! Thank you! You didn’t have to but, boy, am I glad to see you!”

He basked in it. One arm holding up the tray, the other snaking around your waist, feeling glad, feeling strange, feeling welcome. You didn’t look so bad in your bat onesie.

“Brought a costume too. See?”

Bared his teeth at you, exposing the fake fangs he’d gotten last minute. You’d assured him his own were more than enough to give vampire if he just let you get him a Bela Lugosi cape. He already had the widow’s peak.

“Let’s go decorate and spread rabies together,” you’d said, taking his hand leading him to the living room. Your roommate had been delighted at the pan de muerto and he’d felt so unwarrantedly pleased with himself that you’d laughed.

He’d missed that.

Homelander was, of course, placed on treat giving duty and only got a little upset when an snotty eight year old told him point blank his Homelander costume was lame. You’d made him promise not to laser anyone.

“I could slice the bread with my lasers. Nice and toasted,” he’d suggested with a shit eating grin, the moment you handed him a glass of Frankenstein green milk.

“We don’t eat it tonight! It’s until the 3rd of November. So you’re just gonna have to stay over and watch scary movies with me in the meantime.”

He couldn’t help smiling. Not even when your roommate put on Nightmare Before Christmas and he complained this was clearly disloyalty to Vought. Betrayal for Disney. He even smiled through your rendition of oh somewhere deep inside of these bones, an emptiness began to grow and felt it (not at all, never, would not have admitted it if you asked) like a lump in his chest when you looked directly at him and mock gestured through the rest of the song.

It was good. It was good and warm and safe here. And he thought it nothing to hand you the picture, the one he’d picked up from his suite, from a too painful, forgotten place underneath his bed.

Stormfront in her wedding gown.

You said nothing for a moment. Couldn’t begin to explain to him what he was asking of you. The deep roots of this holiday and the pools of blood it had waded through to get to you. Through a dead people and countless enslaved others. That it hadn’t started with the Nazis but there they were, clear as day, the far point where every nation that conquered another could arrive.

But you could almost hear yourself telling him. For your dead. So you know your loved ones are still with you. My cousin who killed herself, she liked chocolate and that’s why we use these kinds of skulls.

You had no heart to deny him his dead. And he could see it in your face, a shame shared between the both of you perhaps, that you would have considered saying no. That he knew you could have because in spite of his bluster and confident security in your feelings for him… still he knew that he was asking a lot.

You took the picture from his hands and because the sigh he heaved was as much hurt as relief, you took him in your arms too. You held him because the dead were meant to bring joy and comfort and it was a hard lesson to learn. You held him because his dead could not.

“If she ends up scorching the place and scaring off the fam it’s on you!” You heard your roommate shout from the kitchen, having caught a glimpse of the ofrenda’s new resident. You laughed together, and if his laughter had the hidden hint of a sob, well, it was only natural.

Tonight was for mourning and celebrating and being together. And that��s what you would do.

[televisionenjoyer]

my gringo friends who've taken the bus twice in their whole life getting in the tagada vs me a frequent user of the argentinian Bondi™

[osidius-el-enfatico]

something I've noticed working these past few weeks in one of the richest part of the city is that everything here is gringo as fuck. vast swatches of land with nothing on it separating the neighborhoods from the actual city. the churches are just cement boxes with a cross on it, absolutely no stores if you need something last minute near any of the houses, there's only one bus that comes around every half an hour. I guess the houses are actually made of construction materials and not cardboard like mcmansions so they got that going for them but it feels so lifeless around here.

I bet no one in this block fucks their spouse in these houses

[chaletnz]

Ecuador: Destination Baños de Agua Santa

I woke up earlier than I needed, and lucky I did because I spent half an hour on a chat with ‘Abdul’ from my cell network trying to make him refund and cancel the roaming package I bought as it wasn’t working on my phone. I ordered my Uber to the bus station and then headed outside the hostel to wait, the driver took a different route to where it suggested and told me to wait but luckily he saw me, the gringo, waiting and flagged me down across the intersection. He showed me a laminated card once I sat down but it was a lot of words that I didn’t necessarily grasp the meaning of. However, with the lack of music and talking and then him intently lip-reading when we navigated the drop off, I figured out that he must have been deaf. There were a couple moments when he was close to nodding off at the lights but he got me there with just a short walk inside to the bus terminal. There was a bus leaving in 10 minutes so I quickly bought my $5 ticket, hurried to store my bag under the bus, and go to the bathroom before we left. I was hoping for a nice quiet journey but there was a guy from Spain who was intent in talking to a girl from Florida sitting opposite him. She didn’t speak a lick of Spanish and he wasn’t very proficient in English but he was slimy enough that they ended up making out for the entire bus ride. The distraction was enough for one of the opportunistic peddlers who grabbed Spanish guy’s backpack from up above him and dumped his sack of peanuts on the empty seat beside me. We drove for another few minutes before I told the peddler to take his sack of peanuts from beside me which alerted the Spanish guy that something was up. He jumped up and realised his backpack was gone and immediately found the peddler rummaging through it. There was an argument then and the thief’s pockets were emptied out before the driver pulled over to get him off the bus. $5 for the public bus and a show - should’ve done it this way all along! The bus arrived in Baños around 2pm which was perfect and the hostel was just a 2 minute walk from the station in my boot. The receptionist was quite odd with long shaggy hair and was trying to convince me to use the public bus to see the waterfalls instead of booking a tour. I don’t think he understood that the difference between $2 for the public bus versus $12 for a tour was not a huge deal for me so I let him finish his piece and then I booked the tour in my room for the next day. The room was basic but fine, I had a little rest and changed into some shorts for a walk around before dark. I wandered down the Ambarto street which was where it was happening. I stopped in at Blah Blah cafe to get a coffee and cheese toastie and then looking around the supermarket. It was quite cheap so I picked up some drinks and snacks and continued walking down towards the basilica and a well placed Baños sign in front of it for some photos. I sat in this little park to people watch and drink one of my premixed cocktails that I bought and by then my phone was almost dead and it was starting to drizzle. The rain got heavier and heavier as the night wore on so I stayed in to watch Netflix in bed with my snacks - my favourite pastime…

[carretera-de-mis-suenos]

Valparaíso, ciudad de las colores

Ce week-end nous sommes donc partis pour Valparaíso, la ville aux milles couleurs. Les démarches pour la voiture avançant bien, nous nous sommes permis cette petite escapade dépaysante au milieu des collines aux maisons sur pilotis.

Après une énorme galère avec notre bus qui n’est jamais arrivé à cause d’un problème de climatisation, nous avons pu enfin partir vendredi soir avec 2h de retard sur ce que nous avions prévus. L’avantage de nos mésaventures est que nous nous sommes bien entendus avec tous les membres de la compagnie du bus qui essayaient tant bien que mal de nous faire grimper dans un de leurs véhicules pleins à craquer. De plus, nous avons rencontré un garçon de notre âge qui, ayant de la peine pour nos complications, nous a gentiment donné un petit plan de dingue ultra secret et inconnu des touristes pour quand nous arriverons à Puerto Varas. Je ne vous en dis pas plus 🤫, nous irons voir si cela vaut le coup.

L’arrivée à Valparaíso nous a tout de suite mis dans l’ambiance. Rien à voir avec Santiago. Les rues y sont plus délabrées, l’ambiance y est plus chaude (malgré les 15°C de moins), la sensation d’être vraiment au cœur du Chili y est bien présente. Le tout est sublime. Les collines colorées et emplies de maison qui surplombent la basse ville quadrillée donnent envie de s’y perdre pendant des heures.

Tous les quartiers ne sont pas fréquentables pour les touristes, mais nous les regardions de loin avec des étoiles plein les yeux.

Le samedi matin nous nous sommes donc levés tôt pour partir voir les 3 cerros accessibles aux gringos : Cerro Alegre, Concepción y Bellavista. Le moins que l’on puisse dire c’est que nous avons mangé une énorme claque. C’était magnifique.

Les collines de Bellavista nous ont fait rêver entre deux essoufflements (ça grimpe !). Et le funiculaire et les rues d’Alegre et Concepción nous ont donné l’envie de s’installer là et d’y rester pour toujours.

Nous nous sommes aussi fait un copain chien (celui sur les photos), car la ville regorge de chiens errants quémandant un peu de douceur. Nous l'avons vu comme un gentil gardien poilu qui nous protégeait dans Bellavista.

Je ne peux pas vous poster toutes mes photos ici à cause de la limite que Tumblr impose mais je peux vous garantir que ma pellicule est pleine de souvenirs.

Le seul point noir à tout cela est l’hôtel que j’ai choisi qui est très mal situé (quartier un peu plus tendu où on n’ose pas trop sortir le soir) et qui se trouve dans une tour assez moche. Mais ça ne fait rien, nous y retournerons à coup sûr vers la fin du voyage et, cette fois, je sais parfaitement où nous devons dormir.

En tous cas si vous passez en Amérique Latine, Valparaíso est un détour incontournable.

Besitos

Luna

[alexisgeorge24]

24 octobre :

Arrivé à la capitale Inka à 14h30, je suis heureux de retrouver Pachacutec sur la plaza Mayor, il n'a pas bougé en 6 ans. C'est le principe d'une statue. Je me ballade dans la ville et me rappel pourquoi c'est ma ville préférée d'Amérique latine.

25 octobre :

Journée dédiée à la visite de la ville, j'ouvre le routard et fais (presque) tout ce qui y est indiqué:

Palacio Arzobispal, Museo de Santa Catalina, Museo del Convento de la Merced, Museo del Convento de San Francisco, Convento de Santo Domingo de Guzmán, Iglesia de la Compañía de Jesús.

Tout est d'une architecture espagnole mais construit sur les fondations inka qu'on aperçoit toujours. Les cloîtres des couvent sont sublimes. Même si la ville n'a pas été anéantie comme Mexico par Cortez, la Cuzco actuelle témoigne des horreurs de la conquista.

Je ne (re)-visite pas la Cathédrale qui coûte désormais 10€ (!!).

Le soir je me ballade vers San Blas et j'ai un flash back de l'endroit exact où j'avais dîner il y a 6 ans. Je n'avais pas manger de madeleines avec Proust mais l'effet est le même. Petit moment de nostalgie et prise de conscience du temps qui passe et de ce qu'on en fait.

26 octobre :

Excursion journalière vers Pisac et ses ruines Inca. Collectivo jusqu'au très charmant village puis 1h de monté vers les ruines. Avant d'y accéder il faut acheter un billet des ruines uniquement combiné avec d'autres sites touristiques qui ne m'intéressent pas (déjà fait en 2017), évidement il me coûte chère (17€) et je fais bien savoir au vendeur que je ne suis pas content de me faire (encore) voler mon argent. Ça a vraiment changé ce pays en 6 ans. Ils ont des dollars à la places des yeux.

Mais bref, le sites est magnifique, avec pas mal de vestiges et longe la montagne sur quelques km, je suis quasi seul loin des foules qui s'accumulent au Machu Picchu. Quelques photos avec des dames qui n'ont pas l'habitude de voir des gringos et retour au village où je mange chifa (chinois) dans un établissement qu'Etchebest aurait refusé de coacher, et dont mes intestins voudront intenter un procès.

Bilan: 8km, 600m d+

27 octobre :

2e excursion journaliere, cette fois pour visiter la "Montaña de 7 colores", ou Vicunca. Arrivé au début du sentier, après 3 heures de route, nous sommes 1000 mini-bus au parking, je sens que je vais étouffer. Je vois un fleuve de monde jusqu'à un col qui doit sûrement être une star sur Instagram. A mi-chemin un sentier devi vers un autre col que personne n'emprunte. C'est pour accéder à la "valle rojo", dont j'avais entendu parlé et que je vois indiqué sur la carte. Étant bien plus rapide que tous le reste du monde je décide d'y aller avant de rejoindre le point Instagram. Arrivé au col, je me fais encore raquetté de 3€ (en plus des 8€ déjà payés à l'entrée du site), mais la vue est incroyable. La roche est rouge avec des teintes blanches, or, vert, gris (expliqué par la présence de divers minéraux) et on se croirait sur Mars. Je repaye 5€ parce que visiblement les drones sont interdits, mais le monsieur "de la communauté" ne veut pas me lacher. Il m'explique que c'est parce qu'il y a des condors (que je ne vois pas), mais après l'avoir payé il me laisse refilmer...

Je rejoins le spot Instagram qui est certes jolie mais beaucoup moins que l'endroit que personne ne visite. Je décide donc de monter vers un autre col qui donne une autre vue sur la vallée rouge avant de redescendre vers le bus.

Retour à Cusco, pendant le trajet je me fais un nouvel ami, il s'appelle Tourista et notre relation sera très fluide.

Bilan: 11km, 600m d+

28 octobre :

Je voulais faire le trek de 3 jours de Salkantay mais je décide de passer la journée avec Tourista qui a l'air de m'apprécier. Je glande un peu au hostel, me ballade dans la ville, monte jusqu'au point de vue du Cristo Blanco, prends une bière et m'occupe de la logistique du trek que je commencerai finalement le lendemain.

Le soir en rentrant vers mon hostel, sur la place principale, c'était la fête. Des gens c'était déguisés (en Incas ?) et portaient des taureaux en cartons sur lesquels étaient accrochés des feux d'artifice. Apres avoir mis le feu à la mèche, ils foncaient aléatoirement sur la foule avec des etincelles projeté dans tous les sens. Je me suis surpris en train de courir pour ma vie car c'était assez flippant. Sympas la corrida vegan.

29 octobre :

05h00 départ pour la laguna Humantay avec un groupe organisé mais que je vais vite abandonner pour continuer de mon côté sur un trek de 3 jours. Je monte toute de même vers ce lac de glacier, j'en aurais vu tellement d'autre que je ne suis malheureusement pas impressionné. Je poursuis vers le col du Salkantay et pose ma tente juste avant, dans une vallée paradisiaque. Je suis, seul, juste en bas du sommet / glacier Salkantay et le ciel est totalement découvert. Au couché du soleil le sommet devient orange. C'est beau.

30 octobre :

Réveil dans de la glace, mais 0 nuage à vue. Je vais au col et me fais un café en admirant les 2 vallées, le Salkantay sous un autre angle, ainsi que d'autres glaciers au loin. Puis j'entame une looonngue descente, la plus longue jamais réalisée en une traite: 28km, 2500m d-. Je passe ainsi de la haute montagne à la jungle montagneuse... et ses moustiques avec. Bivouac sur le jardin d'un hostel du bled où je passe, pas beaucoup d'autres solutions.

Je suis à 2200m, enfin une altitude où je peux m'endormir sans avoir l'impression de respirer comme Dark Vador, et en Sibérie.

31 octobre :

Dernier tronçons jusqu'à Hydroelectrica ou un minibus m'attend. Toujours dans la jungle, mais cette fois ça monte. Je pensais que la Guyane me manquait mais finalement pas tant que ça. J'ai tellement transpiré que la flore a commencé à me demander de l'eau. Sur la descente, pause sur une terasse naturelle juste devant le Machu Picchu (à une certaine distance tout de même mais je devinais les ruines). Plus loin sur le chemin, d'autres points de vue intéressants sur les montagnes bien poilus jusqu'à destination finales.

S'ensuivent 7 heures de minibus. Puis pizza, puis dodo. Dommage que je sois fatigué il y avait une bonne ambiance dans les rues à l'occasion de Halloween.

Bilan Salkantay : 54km, 2100m d+

[selinascatnip]

there's a black toddler with naturally blonde hair sitting beside me at the bus stop

gringos' mind would blow with 5 minutes of Brazil 🤣