how i accidentally became xalapa’s most confused indie film scout
i didn’t set out to document my life in xalapa like some dramatic journal entry but here we are, staring at a map of 16.7833,-92.2833 like it’s a rorschach test. the thing is, xalapa never asked me to come here. i just followed a google maps link from a trippadvisor review that said ‘best coffee in oaxaca’ and somehow ended up in a place where the weather is 10.22 and the air tastes like someone forgot to water their plants.
i took two photos to capture the vibe. one is a close-up of a sign that says ‘enchufa de jerga’ in bold letters because i swear that’s the name of a neighborhood or a cult. the other? a wide shot of the street where i’m sitting, which looks like it was painted by a toddler with a stick. both images are from unsplash because i couldn’t find a better way to ruin my phone’s battery.
< img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1590308272905-e1a8b1555915?crop=entropy&cs=tinysrgb&fit=max&fm=jpg&w=1080&q=80" alt="a street corner with weird graffiti" width="100%">
< img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1680152410571-941ee9af62eb?crop=entropy&cs=tinysrgb&fit=max&fm=jpg&w=1080&q=80" alt="a close up of a sign on a wall" width="100%">
< img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1613238567518-4d9c3d51f3ed?crop=entropy&cs=tinysrgb&fit=max&fm=jpg&w=1080&q=80" alt="a rainy day in a foreign city" width="100%">
the weather here is a joke. i just checked and it’s that brrrr kind of cool, like the kind of weather where you question your life choices every time you open the door. someone told me it’s the ‘xalapa chill’ but i’m not sure if that’s a thing or if they’re just being polite. the humidity is 91%, which means everything is either sweaty or magical. i’m leaning magical.
neighbors? they’re a mystery. i heard that if you get bored, oaxaca’s not too far, but i also heard a rumor that the locals whisper in spanish and imaginary languages. maybe that’s why the street food here is so good it’s like it’s whispering to you. or maybe i’m just hungry.
reviews? i didn’t ask for them. i just opened a yelp tab and saw a review about a place called ‘el hotel de los fantasmas’ that said ‘the ambiance is like being stuck in a dream you didn’t sign up for.’ i’m not sure if that’s a compliment. i’m leaning no. i also saw a tripadvisor review where someone complained about the ‘overpriced avocado toast’ but then ate it anyway. classic xalapa energy.
i’m an indie film scout by accident. i shot a 30-second clip of a guy playing a guitar behind a market stall and posted it to a flickr account i haven’t checked in years. the comments were all ‘great! send us more paranoid_local_vibes.’ i didn’t ask for this. i just wanted to find a location with a ghost story or a hidden mural. instead, i found a guy selling tamales shaped like little animals and a woman who thinks her grandmother is a ghost. maybe that’s the film. maybe i’m the film.
links? i didn’t want to. but i linked to a local xalapa food blog on tripadvisor because the description said ‘must-try: chalky street taco fillings.’ i didn’t need to be told. i also linked to a yelp page for a café that serves coffee so strong it tastes like regret. the guy behind the counter said it was a ‘ritual.’ i drank it. it was good.
someone warned me that xalapa has a reputation for ‘weird hours’ but i think that’s just code for ‘the sun sets at 6 pm and then everything closes.’ i asked a drunk tourist what time it was and he said ‘time is a social construct buddy’ and then tried to sell me a bottle of his ‘vegan tequila.’ i didn’t buy it. i bought a tamale instead.
in conclusion, xalapa is a place where the weather is adequate, the neighbors are enigmatic, and the only thing you can count on is that someone will tell you something weird about the cinema. i’m still here. the map hasn’t changed. but my brain? it’s 40% coffee and 60% questions. if you’re coming, check the unsplash images. they’re better than the place itself.
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