“Hey amigos. do you want to have sex with my sister?” – at 1pm, tourist district in Tijuana, Mexico.
Maybe I should just leave the post at that. After all, the scariest-sounding 11 words of the English language describe the 3rd-world experience of Tijuana with uncanny precision. Even Sasha Cohen’s Borat could not have phrased it more succinctly. While I haven’t written much about my adventures in San Diego, this is one is different. I need to jot this down.
No San Diego experience can be complete without a day-long trip to Tijuana. The Blue-Line trolley picks you up in downtown, and in an hour you’re standing on the Mexican border. The proximity of the heavenly San Diego and the hellish counterpart is beyond belief. There is a very tall wall separating the two nations. As you walk through loud revolving metal doors (no documentation or security checks needed on the way out) , you step across the boundary of the Western world. Whoever you are in the States, when you enter Tijuana you become a walking dollar-sign.
The first impression, after getting through the initial swarm of begging adults and children, is the number of pharmacies Tijuana has. They are blocks and block of discount drug stores, ready to sell you anything without a prescription. From Cialis to Prozac, to the Human Growth Hormone, they are all available at discount prices. The “pharmacists” dressed up as doctors greet you so eagerly, you may feel you’re being assaulted. Along the same lines, Tijuana is filled with dentistry offices and plastic surgeons. Anything that’s expensive or illegal in the States is available. That’s why Tijuana is the most visited border down on Earth, with 300,000 Americans entering every day. The other reason for Tijuana’s popularity is the sleaziness. I had no idea a place like that could ever exist. The tourists are drinking non-stop. Happy hours at bars start before noon and proceed until 5 in the morning. One dollar a beer seems to be the going rate. Prostitution is legal, and the number of strip clubs and brothels is, hopefully, unsurpassed. Besides the things mentioned above, there is really not a whole lot to do. Not what you would call a family vacation spot. Although one of the signs did say “family fun, unlimited drinks…”.
But back to what actually happened. We proceeded towards Revolution Ave, the touristy area of town. The street is dominated by a St. Louis arch-like contraption. Only this one is made of metal and supported by thick wires. We had lunch and a few Coronas at the Mexican place. While eating, we must have been approached five different times by Mariachi bands and photographers ready to offer their services. After lunch, we continued down Revolution Avenue, just shocked by the sleaziness. More photographers – these had donkeys painted as zebras available for the backdrop. We only found three classy establishments all day, and the first one was a wine-tasting store. It was off to the side, and completely deserted. The Museum of Tijuana was unimpressive, although it was interesting to see their interpretation of the Missions and the U.S-Mexican war. The third classy place was where we had dinner, an awesome Thai-Japaneses restaurant.
Other than that, lots of uneven payments, holes in the ground, chaotic ground transportation with no street lights or stop signs, Mexican Swat Team driving by, men doing lasso tricks. The list goes on and on. At the end of the day, we came back on Revolution Avenue. We wanted to conclude the adventure by have a drink of Tequila, but it was very difficult to find a bar that was not also a strip club. Although we didn’t realize it at first. The first place we walked into, turned out to be just that. We ordered drinks and then immediately were approached by three hookers. It was hard to get rid of them. The one who talked to me introduce herself as “Jizzebel”. Maybe she said Jezebel, I’m not sure. Anyway, we finished the drinks as fast as we could and escaped.
Right after that, we ended up in a middle of a huge political rally. I’m not sure what’s going on with the politics there, but the people seem to be as intense about their political affiliation as they are about soccer. Throughout the day we saw hundreds of cars carrying flags of different parties. Most were honking which made walking down the street unbearable. And then there was this rally for the conservative party. Loud music, and all, we had to make our way out almost as fast as we left the strip club.
They say crossing the border back takes anywhere from 30 minutes to 2 hours. We must have gotten lucky, because the line took no time at all. Few simple questions later, I was back on the U.S. soil. I never appreciated being in the States, or just being a part of the Western World so much. At the same time, you have to wonder. All the sleaziness is just a byproduct of tourists’ expectations and desires. People go to Tijuana to get what they can’t find in the States. The conditions there reflect as much about Americans as they do about Mexicans. And of course, Tijuana is by no means a representative sample of the rest of Mexico. I’m combing back to Mexico. Tijuana and I may never meet again.
