I've been sort of working all weekend, but it hasn't felt like work. In fact, I've been working a lot lately, but that doesn't feel like work either. Is that wrong?  I mean, I guess I have this weird notion in my head that if you're doing "work" then you should be looking forward to quitting time, looking forward to getting home and away from the craziness of it all. But I don't.
 I've been going to the border and actually seeing what goes on down there. Not by myself, mind you, actually, with another reporter. His name is Michael Marizco and he's one of the Star's border reporters who knows what he's doing. I respect him a lot because he's the type of journalist who can talk to someone and call their bluff. He doesn't mess around and he knows his beat. I wish all reporters were like that and I hope to be like that someday. In some ways I'm just too trusting of people. I want to believe that a person is being honest with me. In the same respect, I'm not naive and I for the most part can tell if a person is trying to pull the wool over my eyes, but I'm still learning and growing. I have a lot of that to do still and that's something I need to continually remind myself of. I'm still growing.
  So we've been going down to the border in the evenings after work and interviewing everyone from the chief of police in Nogales, MX to deportees who have just been shuffled back over the border. And by "shuffled" I mean tossed back over the border only to go right back over a few hours later. It's like this ridiculous game of hide and seek along with some elements of capture the flag.
  Off topic, but I have to say right now that I'm looking at the most amazing sunset. I can barely see it through my 2nd story window because of a bunch of palm trees blocking my view, but the bit I can see is amazing. The sky is dark and thick with clouds, but touches the horizon just enough to leave space for some color. The lowest part of the sky is this blazing color of orange with some reds and purples jumbled together. It's even peaceful over the sounds of college kids playing volleyball in the yard just outside of my building.
  Okay, so back to Mexico. Gosh I wish I could just be there 24/7.  I don't know why, but it's just a very appealing place to me. It's so fascinating to me. So different and yet so beautiful and unique. I've felt pretty safe with the border reporter because he just knows his stuff. He knows the area, knows what places are good and bad, who to trust and where to go. It's great! Even better, I've been practicing my Spanish with him and though I forget numerous vocabulary words, he's very polite and willing to help me here and there. I finally feel like I'm here doing what I had wanted to do. But things around the paper have been insane because of all the political shake ups going on so it's been difficult to get a clear cut answer on anything.

Stolen Heart  7/25/2004--j.g

Her eyes are blinded by smoke and dirt
By profits and poverty
By hope and coke.
Yet, like a child she wanders
Searching for the answers
Learning by trial and error.
How I wish my hands could help
How I wish my lips could run more smoothly, easily
To comfort her
To guide her.
She's everything and has my heart
Stolen by large doe eyes,
Broken by feeble hungry hands
Enlightened by simplicity.
She reminds me of all that I want to be
That person who cares more deeply for another
That person who puts all other things aside
She makes me want to live
To breathe
To move
Just to be.
When I leave her
My heart calls back for its return
To feel whole and alive
Awake and wired.
Just to learn of her graces and trials
To understand why she weeps
Why everyone wants to leave her
Use her
Scorn her
Yet, die for her.
What has she to give to me?
Nothing.
Everything.
My love,
My foreign 
Mexico.