the green is so much better in california.
but the people are much more colorful here.
yesterday i was paired up with a white american guy. he was squat but solid with a round, shaved head, and wore a gray hooded sweatshirt, baggy jeans and a black cap. he reminded me of the guys who were always on bart around oakland.
we started talking and he was kind of a gruff, but as he opened up, he started talking about his life and his passion. he loves growing weed. he’s lived all over the country but he loved being in humboldt and growing. he loves walking into a room full of vibrant plants, and watching them bear fruit. he’s entrenched in the underground of weed growers and he’s very frank about it being a business like any other, though with more shadowy characters and risks.
he’s staying here because he got caught with quite a big load in the trunk in the midwest. the potential sentence is jaw-dropping. you would think he had heroin or guns or a body in the trunk. so he can only stay here for 3 months before he has to move on, and he believes unless obama becomes president, he can never go back to the states.
if i could go back to the states and live anywhere, i would definitely go back to california. i really loved everything about it, he said in a moment when it was just him and i.
i could tell he was a guy who had dealt hand to hand with life enough to make him tough but proud. everything about him reminded me of a bulldog. but in that moment, as he thought about california, i could swear that i felt his heart beating warmer.