You can run, but you can't hide


Honestly, this one's almost funny.

So I'm in Mexico, right? And I made a big deal of coming down here because I wasn't sure that I'd be able to deal with having another season like my last. What with the ending up in the psych ward and all that, it wasn't really a year that I felt like repeating. I figured that if I could plant myself somewhere warm and sunny, then the SAD might be a bit less overwhelming. What I didn't realize is that some things are just going to happen anyways.

See, it's not like I'm depressed for no good reason. I'm depressed because no matter where I go, there is oppression. Either homeless people, minority groups, or locals living in a world of tourism... someone out there is getting the short end of the stick. Wherever I go, I get to make the same decision: either I choose to care about systematic oppression in the world around me, or I choose to be complicit in it. Being a relatively gifted and blessed individual, choosing the latter option generally means that I forfeit my right to complain about basically anything ever. It's not like I'm going to exercise that right all the time, but it is nice to be able to look at injustice and know that I'm at least doing my best to do something about it.

Coming down here, I set my sights on launching the Greenspots project. I had grand ambitions about being able to get here, snap my fingers, and fix pollution. Maybe I could even surf a wave back up the Pacific and land back in Canada when I finished. Unfortunately, ambition needs to be backed up by a certain amount of wisdom and worldly understanding in order to be effective. In this case, the wisdom that I lacked is this: you end up working for whoever pays your rent.

So all in all, the amount of effort that I've put towards Greenspots in the past month has paled in comparison to the amount of work that I put into El Refugio - the latter being work that has actually afforded me a place to stay and food to eat. This work included web development, tech support, content creation, and more. Perhaps the most ironic part of this whole endeavour was being shoehorned in to the role of 'coffee guy'. For all my efforts to avoid having a year like last, I managed to land myself in a remarkably similar position - working at the coffee bar, aiming towards management, and trying to leverage my position to promote my hobby work as a web developer. Like I said, it's almost funny.

I think it would be more funny if it didn't make me concerned about what might happen next. Thankfully, I'm at least a bit older and wiser than my previous trip around the sun. This time, I'm smart enough to know that I might as well go back to being depressed in my own home.

Greenspots? Oh, it's still happening. Part of the reason for me bailing out after a month is that I've realized that this project is way bigger than I thought it was. It's not going to be a slapdash hackathon program, it's an entire non-profit corporation. To pretend that I can get the ball rolling by tacking on an extra month to my stay would be a disservice to its potential. I've met no shortage of people who are aligned and supportive of the project, and most of what I've learned from them is that doing it right is going to involve a lot of groundwork. This isn't the kind of work that pays rent, but it needs to be done if this project is going to be all it can be.

I'll be back to Mexico soon enough, and I'll be ready next time. Until then: I'm going to enjoy the rest of my time here, tie up a couple loose ends, and get back to being depressed from the comfort of my parents house.

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