Living here sometimes makes me feel like I am watching a movie. Tonight I sat at my kitchen table for an hour and watched cows dig through the trash, picking up whole cardboard boxes and tossing them aside. (I know… exciting right?) They are locals at our trash site and I named them “Filet” and “Mignon”. The dogs woke up and joined the cows shortly after; the same dogs who sleep all day and bark all night.
Every now and then, I take a hiatus from the movie, like the night when we had an earthquake and my 3rd floor apartment shook me back to reality. Or the morning I woke up to an apartment full of gas due to a gas leak. This place is a trip.
Tonight a friend came over and explained that kids get a few days off school each year to uproot the marijuana from their school campus, pile it into trucks, drive it up the hill, and burn it. He also told me that because you can’t kill a cow here you push it off a cliff instead. Hearing stories like this remind me to try and be open minded. I guess I shouldn’t act that shocked, seeing as though up until 2005 you would get thrown into a police truck and sent to jail if you were seen in town out of national dress.