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A Place in the World

361 articles

Texturas y colores de Yellowstone

El planeta puede ser un lienzo. Un trozo de tierra en la que se desparraman texturas y colores. Una tela de barro y piedra con olor a azufre, a pino, a agua enloquecida. Un sin sentido de humo, estelas verdes y vientos fríos. Las rocas se recuestan sin pasos en su lomo y en las laderas que partieron en dos a golpes de corriente se agolpan las bestias indecisas. El planeta puede ser un lienzo, sometimes, sólo a veces...
byJavier Brandoli
19 January, 2017

20 años tarde en San Francisco

¿Qué más hacemos? Y se nos ocurrió una idea magnífica que hace siete años que no realizamos (viví cinco años en el sur de África y llevo dos años en México donde eso no existe): nos fuimos al Ikea de Oakland!!! It was brutal, funny, lleno de emociones. Con esa sensación ya sí de euforia tomamos un avión de noche camino de Salt Lake City. Fuck, costó pero al final encontramos el SF irreverente que habíamos imaginado.
byJavier Brandoli
8 December, 2016

On the path of Big Sur

From Los Angeles to San Francisco there should only be one way: the Big Sur. Its name evokes a pending route or crossed out route.. There are always some trails in every country that have something legendary about them., this is one of them. By the sea, at the edge of a cliff, The Pacific is on one side and the mountain on the other..
byJavier Brandoli
15 November, 2016

The rare route from San Diego to Palm Springs

The first one I guess is Thor or an Icelandic firefighter, the second is another comic character called Green Lantern despite the fact that he seemed more like Peter Pan millennial version. They left quietly talking down the street. “Vaya, San Diego is going to be weird ”, thought. This is how our route through California and other parts of the United States began.
byJavier Brandoli
19 September, 2016

El Salvador: San Blas beach and Coatepeque volcano

In the middle of a conflict, still surrounded by violence or criminal groups, what is imposed is the routine of life. Because almost always, except when nameless bombs fall, there are people who live there with a certain normality, children going to school, businesses that open to sell something to eat, stalls where you cook, couples who fall in love and fall out of love and friends chatting around a table.
byJavier Brandoli
18 July, 2016

The suicides of the rarámuri

The wave of suicides of this native town, forgotten like so many in this Mexico in a hurry to get to the present, had a first voice of alarm early in 2012. Then, el Frente Organizado de Campesinos Indígenas denunció que "las mujeres indígenas cuando llevan cuatro o cinco días sin poder darle de comer a sus hijos se ponen tristes; and his sadness is so great that even 10 from December to 2011 fifty men and women, thinking that they don't have to give their children, they threw themselves into the ravine ".
byJavier Brandoli
9 June, 2016

Postcards from Havana

a little further north, where the winds come dry, the people danced in front of a calm and broken sea. His meats were precise and his rhythms, proud of rules, invested without prayers or sex. He smelled of female and shampoo. There we saw an indecent sunset, with a silent and sad family, in which the sun dissolved over six waves.
byJavier Brandoli
22 May, 2016

A Yankee ship in Havana

The afternoon before his arrival there were families looking at the horizon. Do you know if the Yankee ship arrives today?, I asked two couples that I noticed that they did nothing for a few minutes other than watch the coming and going of the waves. "Eso estamos esperando, que llegue", they replied with a half smile. And I looked at his side, for a few minutes, that Havana sea from which Cuban joy hangs in some sadness, on the go and in sinking bodies trying to find some freedom.
byJavier Brandoli
9 May, 2016

Guachochi: foreshortened beauty

In Guachochi the terrain is high plateau. We went out to see a community of Tarahumara Indians and the pine forests followed one another with the threat of some water path that could divide the cruel from the human. In the community we find a hard life, poor and full of cultural nuances of the raramuri, one of those peoples that understands the world from the other side of the mirror.
byJavier Brandoli
25 April, 2016

Monarch butterflies

In a creek, surrounded by pine forests and milkweed, descending a path of dirt and rock. First are shadows, invisible flaps, motion without sound. Then they appear in a group, some, stirring the air. Finally, Where the heat and food abound they appear by the thousands, by tens of thousands to millions. Monarch butterflies, in Sierra Chincua, Michoacán, Mexico. Nature without fences or borders. From Canada to Mexico, alien to the rules of man.
byJavier Brandoli
2 March, 2016

The old book "cemeteries" of Mexico City

When the teenage uncle Nicolas, almost 90 years, started buying used books by Tepito, one of the most marginal neighborhoods in Mexico City, and his mother asked him one morning what he planned to do with so much paper accumulated between the narrow walls of his house, did not imagine that almost 100 años después su familia acumularía millones de obras de segunda mano en "cementerios" alive where manuscripts wait for decades, spilled on the floor or accumulated on huge shelves, someone give them life
byJavier Brandoli
11 February, 2016

The story of Las Vegas (In)

An oriental American fifties was my opponent. Beside me, a fat guy with a cap and two hands with ten fingers six hundred grams each would witness. I changed 100 U.S. dollars. She began to letters. Everything went very fast. The fat guy on my side asked for a beer. I ordered two napkins and water to wipe one coffee stain. He looked at me wistfully, like my coffee disturb his beer. I did. I was ashamed.
byJavier Brandoli
2 Oct., 2015

Tulum turtles

Nobody has explained to them that some ruins should not become a flea market because the politician who must decide to kick them out lives on their votes and the tourist is always a passing bird that perhaps, in the worst case, Make a criticism on your travel blog that your brothers have not confessed that they do not read it either.
byJavier Brandoli
9 September, 2015
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