By down under you may think I mean Australia. That would be a logical assumption as most of our great country has come to associate down under with cute kangaroos and overly mediocre steaks accompanied by deep fried onions with a high brow price tag.  Ahh, but my down under is something a bit less glamorous; Mexico. And I don’t mean seven miles of white sandy beaches and scantily clad 20 something’s celebrating the rite of passage that is spring break. Oh no, I write to you today sitting atop a rather familiar albeit unwelcome… throne.  Yes, it seems as though I’ve played the Montezuma Russian Roulette game one too many times and stumbled upon the one bullet in the chamber of six.  As I sit here waiting for the next wave of severe intestinal cramping followed by the most thunderous volcanic explosion I just hope upon hope that I am able to hold off the violent vomiting until the bowl has completely cleared itself for the alternative is, well… unthinkable. I’d be lying if I denied knowing why it is unthinkable as I’ve lost the race with the thrown and shared said bowl with…..yeah, some things are left unsaid.

You play the game enough times and you’re bound to lose. I accept that. It’s a price I pay for a job that has provided a better than hoped for standard of living for me and my family.  What I DO have a problem with is the fact that seemingly simple amenities we have come to accept as basic human rights in the twenty first century have seemed to slide by the Mexicans. I mean, in times like these is it too much to ask for toilet paper that doesn’t still have the woodpecker beak marks on it? How hard can it be to process the bark that Jesus spent 6 hours separating from a dwindling rainforest for the grand reward of $1.25 into something that doesn’t require tweezers after ½ a roll? 

Not to mention all the while having to endure the sweet smell of sewer gas as the concept of basic plumbing has also skipped by them like a migrant farm worker through a Southern Texas border station. And if they’re going to continue to put up luxurious hotels fully equipped with 50” flat screen TVs and huge opulent swimming pools, but ignore the seemingly obvious need for drinkable water, then they could at LEAST throw a sign up in the bathroom for all of the gringos stating that should they arise at 4:00 AM still dazed from a bout with Jose Cuervo to NOT DRINK THE WATER!!  If they had the common courtesy to undertake such an enormous act of humanity maybe I wouldn’t be sitting here writing this scathing review of our Southern neighbors!!! But they didn’t, so I am!

Sure, Mexico has its good points. Where else in the world can you grab a Fresca (located conveniently next to the Tab) and a street taco for the grand sum of 98 cents? And, besides some obscure Asian countries, where else can you feel like a giant at 5’10”? You can in Mexico. So the next time you’re feeling like America is going down the toilet come on down to my neck-o-the-world and you’ll have a 1 in 6 chance to get up close and personal with what life is like in a third world country!