Bar Intima Bar

A few weekends ago I found myself in a small bar in Mexico. After two weeks of working in the hills of Arizona, I awoke on a weekend morning in Tucson and decided to skip town for a while. I had no plans, just that I wanted to see something other than downtown skylines and freeways. Although I had a pretty good idea that Tombstone, Arizona would be a cheesey tourist trap, I decided to head there anyway. I arrived in Tombstone early in the morning, and sure enough, the cheese was flowing in full scale down Allen Street. I walked the town for an hour or so, hoping to see some genuine sites and get a feel for what the town was like 130 years ago, and jumped back in the car. I looked at the map and noticed that Mexico was only about 45 minutes away, so I decided, "Why not drive into Old Mexico and cruise around for a day?"



daven-7-31-07 tagged map by user - Tagzania

I crossed over in a small border town in the state of Sonora in which the border patrol did not ask for any identification or intentions. All they wanted to know was whether or not I had any guns. I told them no, I had no guns, and they let me continue southward. About a mile outside of the town, near no buildings other than a small makeshift Catholic worship site, a man stepped into the middle of the road. The man was not wearing an official uniform, nor was he bearing anything indicative of being a government or security official. He was wearing blue jeans and a green fleece, and in his right hand he waved a high powered assault rifle as though it were weightless and wasn't able to distribute lethal bullets with an accidental slip of the finger. My immediate thought was, "Ahhhh crap! I'm going to get my car stolen at gunpoint in Mexico! This was a stupid idea!" I rolled up next to the man, and he asked me very quickly in Spanish how I was doing and where I was going. Although I had no plans for the day other than driving around Mexico, I had to give him some answer. Very nervously I told him, "Quiero viajar a Agua Prieta..." (I want to travel to Agua Prieta). He then smiled, dropped the barrel of his gun to the ground, and said, "Agua Prieta? Bueno! Viaja buena!" And let me pass on through.

I spent the following several hours driving around on small backroads in Sonora until I finally decided to head to Agua Prieta. Once I arrived in town, I wandered around the streets for a while. Close to the border in town, I found only taco stands, trinket stands, and discount pharmacies. I walked past these and further into town until I found myself standing in front of a weathered gray building with a sign reading: Bar Intima Bar. Although I was alone and a few miles into the town, I figured, "Well, I better go in and grab a Tecate," and pushed the door open. Considering it was only early in the afternoon, I assumed the bar would be empty. However, immediately after I entered the bar, I was greeted by 15 or 20 pairs of locals' eyes staring at the only gringo in their bar. Hesitantly, I made my way towards the bar to order a beverage, when I heard: "GRINGO! Come sit with me!" I looked in the direction of the voice and noticed a fairly drunk middle aged woman sitting in the middle of a few guys. I ended up sitting down with them (the drunk lady and her boyfriends), and they bought a Tecate for me. I returned the favor, and after two beers and our conversations in broken Spanish and broken English, the entire bar was shouting friendly sayings to me and calling me "David." After another beer, it seemed as though I was one of their pals as they then referred to me as "David, my good friend."

One of the locals I spoke with in the bar was fluently bilingual. I managed to learn from him that only three days prior to my presence in the bar, the sheriff of Agua Prieta was gunned down and murdered near the front steps of Bar Intima Bar. I must have been visibly nervous after I heard this bit of information, because another man immediately slid next to me and assured me that "Agua Prieta really is the safe town." Later in the afternoon I discovered that this man was the chief of police of Agua Prieta... And despite his official legal status in town, the chief of police's drinking friend came to me and in English said, "If you need anything-- weed, cocaine, women, just let me know..."

After a few hours of broken conversation along with the translational help of a few bilingual folks in the bar, I decided to leave. I had had three or four Tecates and was ready to leave when the chief of police demanded that he buy me another beer. I said no thanks, said my goodbyes, and headed for the door. He stood up and said, "David, I will not arrest you if you drive and drink. But I will arrest you if you leave this bar!" Not knowing if he was serious or not, and not wanting to spend any amount of time in a foreign jail, I looked around the bar for some kind of help. A few seconds passed, and then everyone burst into laughter. They let me know that he was joking and wished their good friend David safe travels.

I laughed, said my goodbyes again, pushed the door open, and headed for the nearest taco stand.