Oliver Benjamin
APPENDIX B Mérida
Good God, what does it matter? If life is a tragedy, or a farce,
or a disaster, or anything else, what do I care! Let life be what
it likes. Give me a drink, that is what I want just now.
For my part, life is so many things I dont care what it is.
Its not my affair to sum it up. Just now its a cup of tea. This
morning it was wormwood and gall. Hand me the sugar.
D.H. LAWRENCE,Studies in Classic American Literature
Have you tried the Shakti Tea? Roy overheard a woman saying to
her friend. Shaktimeans power in India. Here, try it.
I like the Tantric Mocha, her companion confessed, Its good
for your sex.
You would!
And they laughed delightedly.
Roy might have experienced a perfect déjà vu just then, if not for
the fact that he was in Mexico and that these two matronly women
were speaking Spanish.
From the outdoor seating area of a brand-new Biddenbrooks
franchise in the Yucatan capital of Mérida he watched as the middle
classes turned out in droves to sample the latest fruits from the
north, wild new tastes of paradise they might never have imagined
would go together so well. Himself, he drank a Kabalatté, the
ingredients of which were kept mysteriously secret. But he was pretty
sure it was just coffee flavored with anise. It was awful and
outrageously overpriced. His stomach clenched around it.
Throwing the cup into a trashcan, he strolled across the
cobblestone square, past the little boys selling enormous cylindrical
balloons, past the ubiquitous gang of Andean musicians and down
the narrow alley that led to his small apartment. Upstairs, he knew,
lay a small bag of good Guatemalan Antigua and a thin, languid
Mexican woman he knew as Lola.
Despite Buntings suggestion, Roy had not opened a coffeehouse.
Rather than lay down roots, he moved from town to town, from
month to month, lover to lover, face to face, ensuring a liberation
from need. If he lived simply and was careful with the cash Bunting
gave him, he would not have to work for a while. He could just relax
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