sunday update

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iOS 3 years ago
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"00.01 Admin/Calendars/2022-04-01.md" "00.01 Admin/Calendars/2022-04-01.md"
] ]
} }

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[[Hungarian Mushroom Soup]] for dinner
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FrontHeadBar: 5 FrontHeadBar: 5
EarHeadBar: 45 EarHeadBar: 45
BackHeadBar: 35 BackHeadBar: 35
Water: 2 Water: 2.25
Coffee: 3 Coffee: 3
Steps: Steps: 11340
Ski: Ski:
Riding: Riding:
Racket: Racket:

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Date: 2022-04-03
DocType: Note
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Sleep: 8
Happiness: 90
Gratefulness: 90
Stress: 35
FrontHeadBar: 5
EarHeadBar: 40
BackHeadBar: 30
Water: 1.05
Coffee: 3
Steps:
Ski:
Riding:
Racket:
Football:
title: "Daily Note"
allDay: true
date: 2022-04-03
---
%% Parent:: [[@Life Admin]] %%
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# 2022-04-03
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```ad-abstract
title: Summary
collapse: open
Note Description
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---
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### Memos
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#### Memos
This section does serve for quick memos.
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- 14:48 [[Lamb n Lentil Curry]] for lunch
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### Notes
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Loret ipsum
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---
dg-publish: true
Alias: [""]
Tag: ["Society", "ClimateChange"]
Date: 2022-04-03
DocType: "WebClipping"
Hierarchy:
TimeStamp: 2022-04-03
Link: https://www.gq.com/story/eight-places-to-save-climate-change
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```button
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# 8 Endangered Places We Can Still Save From Climate Change
**Julia Baum**, a marine biologist at the University of Victoria, in British Columbia, has been researching climate-threatened coral reefs for years. But recently she decided to make a change. “Ive realized the best way I can help to save coral reefs is not to work on coral reefs,” she says. “Its to work on the energy transition.” Thats because climate change is caused chiefly by the burning of fossil fuels, which now accounts for 86 percent of carbon dioxide emissions. And unless we rapidly transition to clean energy, all other efforts to save corals—or our warming planet—wont matter.
This reality is one that all of the earths inhabitants are now grappling with: If we want to preserve the places we love, we have to focus on moving away from fossil fuels immediately. The latest United Nations climate report, released in February, made it clear that irreversible destruction can no longer be avoided. The question is no longer “How can we fix climate change?” Its “How much irreversible planetary damage are we willing to accept in order to continue extracting and burning fossil fuels?”
Since the late 19th century, when, in the aftermath of the Industrial Revolution, humans started burning fossil fuels on a scale greater than ever before, the global average temperature has increased by about 1.1 degrees Celsius. Today, the desperate hope of climate scientists is that we prevent that number from rising to 1.5 degrees. Of course, some say that task is now impossible and that the best we can wish for is to limit warming to 2 degrees above pre-industrial levels. Those two thresholds have come to define the discourse around climate change, and either would represent a stunning reversal of current trends.
When delegates met to confront the issue at last years climate summit in Glasgow, Scotland, representatives convened from the worlds biggest polluting nations. Each had already agreed to curb emissions in pursuit of two objectives set out by the 2015 Paris Agreement: limiting warming to “well below” 2 degrees and “pursuing efforts” to reach 1.5 degrees. But some have argued that the Paris Agreement is flawed: Even though countries are required to submit plans to reduce emissions, there is no way of enforcing those pledges, and six years after Paris, we remain on a disastrous course. One recent study projected that, under current policies, the world is on track to warm by 2.7 degrees by 2100—a catastrophic scenario.
So, without the will to wean ourselves off fossil fuels, what comes next? Around the world, profound transformations are already under way. Ski slopes are bare. Storms are worsening. Regions are becoming inhospitable for human life. In one future, the world warms by 2 degrees or more and these trends continue to their catastrophic ends. In another, we pull the hand brake now and limit warming to 1.5 degrees. “People dont realize that every tenth of a degree matters,” Baum explains. Here are some places where they matter the most.
---
## Jacobabad, Pakistan
*One of the world's hottest cities simply can't stand to get any hotter.*
The hottest temperature ever recorded on the planet, 56.7 degrees Celsius (134 degrees Fahrenheit), was in Californias Death Valley. But Jacobabad, in Pakistans Sindh province, might be the world's hottest—and perhaps the most unlivable—city. Summer temperatures routinely exceed 50 degrees Celsius (122 degrees Fahrenheit); according to a recent study, Jacobabad—which has a population of 190,000 and a surrounding district of 1 million—is one of two cities on earth where temperatures and humidity levels have reached a point at which the human body can no longer cool itself, and has done so on four separate occasions.
“My friends and family have died of heatstroke,” says Muhammad Jan Odhano, 43, who works for a Jacobabad-based community organization dedicated to improving access to health care and education. “This is normal for us. Its part of our routine.”
Odhano says that many of the city's residents relocate in the summer, but the nature of his work demands that he and his family remain in the Jacobabad, working at night or in the early morning and resting from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. “Every year we feel its hotter than the last,” Odhano says. “Its unfair. We are not contributing many greenhouse gasses in Pakistan. We see nothing specific to reduce the climate effects.
“We need a political movement against this evil,” he continues. “But there is a problem of illiteracy. Many people cannot read, so they dont know about climate change. They dont know about the importance of forestry and renewable electricity. We need to educate the people who are most affected. I have lived in Jacobabad for 30 years. This is my native place. I call on people to come and see.” 
Indeed, if current trends continue, people might not have a choice. One study projects that with 1.5 degrees of warming, 13.8 percent of the world would regularly be exposed to severe heat waves—a figure that would nearly triple, to 36.9 percent, with 2 degrees of warming. It seems that much more of the world might soon see what a Jacobabad summer feels like. —*Emily Atkin*
---
![Image may contain Water Sea Outdoors Nature Ocean Animal Reef Sea Life Coral Reef Invertebrate and Sponge Animal](https://media.gq.com/photos/623a360f27a0ff6ede9f6b49/master/w_1600%2Cc_limit/GQ0422_Climate_02.jpg)
Line Islands: Brian Skerry.
Photo by Brian Skerry
## Line Islands
*Off the coast of this Pacific paradise, a coral reef teems with wildlife—but teeters on the brink of destruction.*
Coral reefs are vital to both human societies and the oceans ecosystem—they protect shorelines from storm surges and erosion, and serve as nurseries for marine life. Theyre also frighteningly imperiled by warming waters, which produce conditions that turn them a ghostly white and expose them to a blanket of algae. Thats what Kim Cobb saw one day in 2016 when she swam up to the reef in the central Pacifics Line Island chain that shed been studying for 18 years. A heat wave had killed or bleached 95 percent of the corals.
“It was carnage,” the Georgia Tech climate scientist recalls. Disturbances like pollution and fishing are relatively limited in the vicinity of the research site, so Cobb felt rising ocean temperatures were the likely culprit. The impact has already been devastating, she says, adding, “I cant even imagine what it would look like at 2 degrees Celsius.”
If warming can be limited, however, there might be hope for the corals that remain. Scientists like Hollie Putnam are engineering so-called super corals with the ability to withstand higher ocean temperatures and acidity levels. Putnam, a marine biologist at the University of Rhode Island, places coral species under climate change stressors and breeds those that survive best, creating hyper-resilient organisms. “Theyre really exciting and really hopeful,” Putnam says, noting that super corals could help maintain the biodiversity and genetic diversity of already struggling reefs, like the ones in the Line Island Chain.
But super corals are more likely to survive if warming doesnt get much worse. “If we push the climate system to 2 degrees Celsius, were talking about 1 percent of reefs surviving,” Cobb says. “That makes it less likely that coral-resilience engineering efforts will succeed.” She says its essential to limit warming to 1.5 degrees, a scenario in which up to 30 percent of reefs could survive on their own. If that happens, one of the worlds wildest reefs could be strengthened. If it doesnt, even the savviest engineering intervention wont be enough. —*E.A.*
---
![Image may contain Nature Outdoors Countryside Plant and Rural](https://media.gq.com/photos/623a360d209a72ad59888377/master/w_1600%2Cc_limit/GQ0422_Climate_03.jpg)
Napa Valley, California: Samuel Corum/AFP/Getty Images.
Photo by Samuel Corum
## Napa Valley, California
*Wildfires and droughts are devastating vineyards, tainting vintages, and poisoning the future of the great American wine region.*
Last July, Julie Johnson walked around her vineyard in the Napa Valley town of St. Helena. The grapevines looked exhausted, and the nearby land was scarred by wildfires. But it was hardly shocking: The western U.S. is in the midst of a mega-drought, the worst in over a millennium. Californias 2020 wildfire season burned 42 percent of the land in Napa County. And now warmer temperatures are changing the soil, and the wine itself.
Grapes are defined by their terroir, so even small shifts in the soil matter. According to Johnson, the drier earth in Northern California doesnt absorb water with the same sponge-like quality as it once did. Winemakers also encounter another challenge brought on by wildfires: Smoke can taint grapes, giving wine an ashy aroma.
“The taste of wine is changing,” says Kimberly Nicholas, a sustainability scientist at Lund University, in Sweden, who hails from a family of winemakers in Sonoma. Some local vintners have conceded that certain long-favored grapes like Pinot Noir simply dont flourish in the heat and have replaced them with varietals like heat-loving Grenache. Johnson is adapting, too, making her vineyards more resilient by improving the health of the soil. But even her organic vineyard, which is well-equipped to handle dry conditions, saw a 20 percent reduction in crop yield last year. And Napa Valley wine industry groups estimated that the fall 2020 Glass Fire alone cost the region $1 billion.
Those losses might only be a taste of whats to come. One study predicts that in a world with 1.5 degrees of warming, the global mean wildfire season would increase by 6.2 days; with 2 degrees of warming, it would increase by 9.5 days. Nicholas casts that difference in starkly simple terms. “The difference between 1.5 degrees Celsius and 2 degrees Celsius is the difference between life and death for many people and places around the world,” she says. “Wine producers are smart and adaptable, but there are limits to adaptation. I worry that the landscapes and wine industry I grew up with will not exist in a 2-degree Celsius world.” —*Caitlin Looby*
---
![Image may contain Human Person Clothing Apparel Urban Hood and Building](https://media.gq.com/photos/623a360e32b88720ca867622/master/w_1600%2Cc_limit/GQ0422_Climate_04.jpg)
Qikiqtarjuaq, Nunavut, Canada: Jonas Bendiksen/Magnum Photos.
Photo by Jonas Bendiksen
## Qikiqtarjuaq, Nunavut, Canada
*Sea ice is vanishing near this Arctic island, imperiling an Inuit community's cherished tradition.*
The roughly 15,000 Inuit who inhabit Qikiqtaaluk—also known as the Baffin Region, an area mostly composed of Arctic islands between Greenland and the Canadian mainland—are known for their resilience. In 2019, the Canadian government formally apologized for years of traumatic colonial practices, including forced relocation and the separation of parents and children. But now the Qikiqtani are facing a different threat. They depend on sea ice for hunting seals—a tradition that serves important economic and cultural functions. That ice is now deteriorating across Baffin Bay, including the area around Qikiqtarjuaq, an island home to just under 600 people. Locals acknowledge that reduced and less stable sea ice has made hunting more difficult.
As an island, Qikiqtarjuaq is also vulnerable to the seas lapping waves. “Melting sea ice creates more open water, and more storms occur when there is open water,” says John Walsh, a climate scientist at the University of Alaska, Fairbanks who studies the Arctic. “The storms then kick up waves that flood the coast and cause erosion.”
According to Walsh, the islands sea ice can still be preserved, but only by swiftly limiting warming. “The 1.5 degrees Celsius warming scenario is the only one where the sea ice cover stabilizes in the Arctic,” Walsh says. “Thats coming through in the climate model simulations loud and clear.” The climate models, however, have made another thing clear: “Once you get to 2 degrees Celsius to 3 degrees Celsius, the ice goes away in the long term.” —*E.A.*
---
![Image may contain Plant Tree Fir Abies Conifer Nature Mountain and Outdoors](https://media.gq.com/photos/623a360c32b88720ca867620/master/w_1600%2Cc_limit/GQ0422_Climate_05.jpg)
The Italian Alps: Tomaso Clavarino.
Photo by Tomaso Clavarino
## Italian Alps
*Snowless slopes and shuttering resorts could mean the collapse of this classic European ski destination.*
*One of the ski regions most affected by climate change is the Italian Alps, where some 200 resorts have already shuttered. And that trend could soon get worse: One study forecasts that with 1.5 degrees of warming, Italy would see about 750,000 fewer overnight stays each winter, and about 1.25 million fewer stays in a 2-degree scenario. Marcello Cominetti, an extreme skier in northeastern Italy, reveals the impact that warming temperatures have had on his native mountains:*
I live in a village in the Dolomites, in a 350-year-old wood cabin. When I stay in my bed, from my window I see the Marmolada Glacier, our largest glacier. I remember what it looked like years ago. Ive lived in my house for 40 years. When I look at it now, I understand how melted its become. I can see it with my eyes. I understand.
My job is a mountain guide, but its also my passion. During the winter I ski every day. I ski mostly using skins, and without lifts. Today I climbed a mountain very close to my home and made a wonderful descent. For these climbs, I dress lighter than I did before. Years ago, it seemed to me that we would see temperatures of minus 20 degrees Celsius for many days in winter. Now it seems like just two to three days.
This makes a big difference in the snow for skiers—especially for the free riders and ski tourers like me. Its less of a problem at the resorts, because the pistes are prepared with artificial snow. Skiers on the pistes dont understand the snow. They see white and they are happy. But Ive noticed that when they try something more in nature, like ski touring or ice climbing, at the end of the day they are more happy. The light they have in their eyes is different.
I dont know for how many seasons it will be possible to continue. Artificial snow is expensive. And there are many valleys here where the only economy is skiing. I have a lot of friends who make a living in the mountains. I live in a wonderful place. But I am worried. —*As told to E.A.*
---
![Image may contain Nature Outdoors Mountain Plateau Scenery Light and Flare](https://media.gq.com/photos/623a3608816197e93d937708/master/w_1600%2Cc_limit/GQ0422_Climate_09.jpg)
Yakutia, Russia: Katie Orlinsky.
Photo by Katie Orlinsky
## Yakutia, Russia
*In one of the coldest regions on earth, a thaw of the permafrost is releasing massive levels of methane—and maybe something worse.*
With temperatures that regularly reach minus 40 degrees Celsius, Yakutsk, in eastern Siberia, is known as the coldest city in the world. Like much of the surrounding Yakutia region, the city sits atop the permafrost, a layer of soil that traditionally remains frozen year-round. But the permafrost here has begun to thaw, setting in motion a potentially catastrophic sinking. “The difference between 1.5 degrees Celsius and 2 degrees Celsius, for this kind of permafrost, is the difference between life and death,” says Vladimir Romanovsky, a geophysicist at the University of Alaska, Fairbanks, who has studied the Yakutian permafrost. Particularly concerning, Romanovsky says, is the type of permafrost found in Yakutia, which contains abnormally large amounts of ice. “If its a huge amount of ice, then all this foundation will turn into a lake,” he says. “Imagine if its on a slope.”
The effects of this thawing appear even more dramatic outside of Yakutsk, in the region of Yakutia, where gullies have opened up in the collapsing earth. Those include the Batagaika Crater, pictured here, about one kilometer across and 50 meters deep. These open wounds in the earths surface are releasing other dangers, including high levels of methane, further contributing to climate change, and long-frozen bacteria and viruses. “Thats potentially very dangerous,” Romanovsky says, noting that fragments of genetic material from smallpox can survive in permafrost for hundreds of years.
No matter what, Romanovsky says, Yakutia will need help. “Even 1.5 degrees Celsius of warming could destabilize the permafrost,” he notes. The difference is that, with a 1.5-degree Celsius warming, engineering solutions to refreeze the ground are more likely to succeed. In a 2-degree Celsius scenario, he says, those solutions become “more expensive and probably not practical.” 
—*E.A.*
---
![Image may contain Animal Wildlife Zebra Mammal and Giraffe](https://media.gq.com/photos/623a360a8c72bca0682d0cf7/master/w_1600%2Cc_limit/GQ0422_Climate_07.jpg)
Miombo Woodlands, Southern Africa: Martin Lindsay/Alamy Stock Photo.
Photo by Martin Lindsay / Alamy Stock Photo
## Miombo Woodlands, Southern Africa
*In this cradle of biodiversity, climate change could upend the ecosystem—and spell disaster for a host of endangered species.*
Stretching across southern Africa, the Miombo Woodlands—named after the umbrella-shaped miombo trees—are home to elephants, lions, leopards, spotted hyenas, buffalo, antelope, and giraffes. But its becoming a less hospitable habitat: Rainfall is now more sporadic and intense, while the shifting climate threatens to increase wildfires and imperil a number of the regions charismatic megafauna, like the critically endangered black rhinoceros, already long threatened by poaching.
According to Jeff Price, a climate scientist at the University of East Anglia who has studied the region, even a 1.5-degree Celsius warming scenario would be unsuitable for up to half of all species in most of the region, and at 2 degrees Celsius most of the Miombo Woodlands would be unfit for up to three-quarters of its species. Of additional concern to Price are the insects underpinning the entire ecosystem. If pollinators die out, the regions food supply would be undermined; limiting warming to 1.5 degree Celsius could prove critical for insects, which appear to be more sensitive to warming than plants and animals.
The impending diminution of the woodlands biodiversity is playing out against another shift: The countries of the Miombo are experiencing rapid population growth, contributing to loss of the woodlands, which have shrunk by an estimated 30 percent since the 1980s. According to Natasha Ribeiro, a scientist from Mozambique who has studied the region for decades, the woodlands distinctive biodiversity supports 80 percent of the regions people—a population thats increasingly placing a strain on natural resources. As Ribeiro puts it, “Climate change is bringing us one more challenge.” —*C.L.*
---
![Image may contain Landscape Outdoors Nature Scenery Neighborhood Urban Building Suburb Road and Aerial View](https://media.gq.com/photos/623a360932b88720ca86761e/master/w_1600%2Cc_limit/GQ0422_Climate_08.jpg)
Antigua and Barbuda: Jose Jimenez Tirado/Getty Images.
Photo by Jose Jimenez
## Antigua and Barbuda
*The island nation rocked by hurricanes is fighting back—and lawyering up—against the industrialized superpowers that pollute the most.*
The worlds islands are, of course, under threat from rising sea levels, but many of those same places face another peril exacerbated by climate change: hurricanes. That danger was made shockingly clear in 2017, when a pair of hurricanes tore through Antigua and Barbuda days apart; Irma damaged 81 percent of Barbudas buildings. “Our region was decimated by Irma and Maria,” Gaston Browne, the countrys prime minister, tells *GQ.*
So in October, the country joined with the Pacific island nation of Tuvalu to create a new commission that will seek to assign legal responsibility to higher-polluting nations for the adverse effects of climate change. “The basic principle of international law is that the polluter pays,” says Payam Akhavan, the legal counsel to the commission. “You pollute, you pay. You cannot use your territory in a way that harms other states.”
Akhavan contends that nations like Antigua and Barbuda have no other choice. The Paris Agreement includes no mechanism to enforce signatories pledges to curb their domestic emissions. “Industrialized countries believe that assisting us to adapt and mitigate the effects of climate change is an act of charity,” says Browne. “It ought to be a legal compensation.”
Palau has since joined the commission, and Akhavan says that other small island states are in the process of joining; together they will develop a legal strategy. But Akhavan hopes to bring his clients more than financial justice. “They are telling people that whats happening to the small island states today is going to happen to all of us tomorrow,” he says. “By listening to them, I think we can avert this collective catastrophe for the rest of humanity.” —*E.A.*
*\* A note on this story's methodology: To select these eight locations, we consulted the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Changes* [*special report*](https://www.ipcc.ch/sr15/) *on the projected impacts of 1.5 and 2 degrees of warming above pre-industrial levels. After identifying the regions likely to be the most afflicted in those scenarios, we spoke to climate scientists who study the most high-risk places within those areas. To determine whether a location would be “saved” at 1.5 degrees and “irredeemably lost” at 2 degrees, we asked whether it would become functionally unrecognizable to its current inhabitants. “Saved” and “lost” are subjective terms; they have no scientific definition here. Furthermore, this list is admittedly incomplete. It represents only a small sampling of places and people whose futures depend on whether we undertake a worldwide, herculean effort to rein in our use of fossil fuels. It is, however, (to our knowledge) the first list of its kind. We hope it is not the last.*
*A version of this story originally appeared in the April 2022 issue with the title "The Razor's Edge of A Warming World."*
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Tag: ["Society", "PolynesieFrancaise", "OnlineShopping"]
Date: 2022-04-03
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Link: https://restofworld.org/2022/online-shopping-in-the-middle-of-the-ocean/
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# E-commerce giants couldnt deliver. So these islanders built their own online shopping ecosystem
After a morning spearfishing in the lagoon, 20-year-old fisherman Turoa Faura rode home on his red tricycle, carrying his young nephew in the rusty basket affixed to the back. On the patio of his aunts house, he shared photos on his phone of his fishing exploits: bright blue parrotfish, yellow-lip emperors, silvery trevallies, and a cooler full of tiny, rose-colored *eina****a* — a seasonal delicacy.
Faura is tall and well-built, with bleached blond highlights in his black hair. When *Rest of World* met him in December 2021, he wore a white T-shirt featuring a large black Adidas logo, which he had recently purchased online using his smartphone. 
Shopping online and getting the T-shirt delivered to the island where he lives was a new experience for Faura. “I began ordering online this year,” he told *Rest of World*. “At the start of the year, I still didnt know that I could order online myself.” Hes also used online shopping to buy fishing gear and sports equipment.
Faura lives in Manihi, a remote coral atoll in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. It is one of 118 atolls and islands that make up French Polynesia, an overseas collectivity of France that has its own government and is considered semi-autonomous. The islands are scattered over more than 3,500 square kilometers of ocean — an area [five times as large](https://www.britannica.com/place/French-Polynesia) as the French mainland. 
From the air, Manihi looks ephemeral: a tiny ring of sand that might be washed away at any moment, surrounded by endless shades of blue. The atoll, itself made up of many small islands arranged around a lagoon, is just 27 kilometers long and 8 kilometers wide, with its highest point 9 meters above sea level. It has a population of less than 1,000, with most inhabitants, including Faura, living in the main village of Turipaoa. Life here can be difficult. Well-paying jobs are few and far between, and residents are reliant on cargo ships from Tahiti, French Polynesias largest island, to bring necessities.  
The luxury of online shopping and home delivery, considered indispensable by many in the West, has long been out of reach for remote islanders like Faura. Theres no Amazon same-day delivery or Alibaba shipping to Manihi, and Turipaoa has only three small shops, which mostly sell food and essentials. There are no restaurants, hardware stores, or clothing shops that sell sought-after brands like Adidas.
Until recently, huge distances, a scattered population, and lack of internet access have made e-commerce unviable in French Polynesia. In the last few years, however, a nascent courier scene has taken off, making it possible for islanders to access an ocean of e-commerce products that were previously unavailable. As the global online shopping market continues to grow — a trend that has been augmented by the Covid-19 pandemic — local services are closing the last gaps for those living in some of the worlds most remote places.
![](https://149346090.v2.pressablecdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/E-COMMERCE20220326_0057-40x27.jpg)
20-year-old fisherman Turoa Faura lives in Manihi, a remote coral atoll in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
![](https://149346090.v2.pressablecdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/E-COMMERCE20220326_0042-1-40x27.jpg)
He recently began shopping online, as local couriers started making e-commerce accessible to French Polynesias islands over the last few years.
![](https://149346090.v2.pressablecdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/E-COMMERCE20220326_0045-40x27.jpg)
“I began ordering online this year,” Faura told Rest of World. “At the start of the year, I still didnt know that I could order online myself.”
---
**In 2017, Moanatea** Henriou was 26 years old and in his sixth year of working as a riot policeman in France. The pay was great, and life was comfortable, but there was something missing. He yearned to be with his children and his family. He craved the warm climes and jagged mountain peaks of his *fenua*, his island home — Tahiti.  
And so, in January 2018, Henriou moved back to Tahiti, ready to start his life again from scratch. When his brother suggested he start a small business delivering goods to people on the islands, he went for it. He borrowed some money to buy a cheap motorized scooter, started a Facebook business page, and called his company [HM Coursier Express](https://www.facebook.com/hmcoursier/)  “HM” for his initials, and “coursier” meaning “courier” in French.   
On the HM Coursier Express Facebook page, customers can access a list of services and prices, receive updates on special offers, and leave reviews. Facebook was a natural choice for Henriou to reach his market: it is the leading social network in French Polynesia, with 74% of the population [on the platform](https://www.service-public.pf/dgen/wp-content/uploads/sites/3/2020/11/2020-09-26-DGEN-USAGES-MENAGES-LOW.pdf) and half of those using it daily for more than an hour. 
To place an order, customers send a request through Facebook Messenger. HM Coursier Express offers to source and deliver anything a customer might want — from fresh fruit and vegetables to clothing or even a car. The companys couriers shop for the products, package them, and then ship them by air or cargo ship. HM Coursier Express also handles online order deliveries for many local businesses. 
When Henriou set up his Facebook page, there were only a couple of other couriers operating in French Polynesia. 
“In the beginning, everyone made fun of me, especially my old friends from Paea \[the Tahitian commune Henriou is from\] because I had a good situation before that,” Henriou told *Rest of World*. “When they saw that I was back, they felt sorry for me because I was a delivery man.”
Delivery in French Polynesia poses a particular logistical challenge. But homegrown courier services exist in other hard-to-reach places, particularly in countries where e-commerce giants like Amazon and Alibaba dont hold much sway. In Fiji, for instance, a Pacific country with over 300 islands, local courier service [All Freight Logistics Fiji](https://www.facebook.com/allfreightlogisticfiji/) offers online door-to-door delivery and other transportation services.
Even within the U.S., delivery to remote areas, such as some parts of Hawai****i, isnt clear-cut. Amazon does not offer priority shipping to P.O. boxes in Hawai****i and has restrictions on package sizes; some addresses in the Hawai****ian islands are not eligible to receive shipments from Amazon at all. In Alaska, meanwhile, a local courier service called [Eagle Raven Global](https://eagleravenglobal.com/services#f611744a-4194-43f8-8c52-37aa702cd9c9) goes to some of the places the e-commerce giants dont, using a network of maritime cargo ships to deliver goods to communities in the southeast of the state, such as Hoonah and Gustavus.  
> “The courier business exploded, thanks to Covid, because the people didnt want to leave their houses.”
Henrious first client was a small dress business in Tahiti; he delivered dresses and small packages to its customers. Other clients soon began to discover his services through Facebook and word of mouth. Local businesses wanted a middleman to deliver their goods, while families on the islands messaged Henriou with their grocery shopping lists: 1 bottle of ketchup, 4 packets of rice, a carton of frozen chicken. Hed jump on his scooter, buy or collect the goods from the store, then package and take them to the airport or a cargo ship to be delivered to their final destination.
In the early days, Henriou and his girlfriend worked from sunup to late in the night every day — building contacts, promoting their services, and purchasing and delivering goods. “There was no paid leave, no rest, nothing like that,” said Henriou. “I still remember my first months pay. It was 20,000 Central Pacific francs, or $200. Thats nothing, nothing at all.”
HM Coursier Express initially delivered anywhere: within Tahiti, to other islands, and also abroad. In the first year, Henriou built up a client base of Tahitians in France, including many serving in the military. They wanted products from home: Arnotts Sao crackers, canned corned beef, and clothing from Tahitian brands like Hinano and Enjoy Life. Henriou soon realized, however, that sending abroad wasnt sustainable; the shipping often cost much more than the products themselves, and the fee that HM Coursier Express charged barely covered his overheads.
At first, the business used an honor system for payments. HM Coursier Express would pay for a customers order and shipping up front, and the customer would pay it back when their package arrived safely. But after a while, more people started taking advantage: once they had received their package, theyd disappear, and Henriou would be left with a deficit. Now, the company asks for a deposit when customers place their order. 
By August 2018, Henriou had scraped together enough money to buy a small pickup truck, and, in December that year, he took out a loan to buy a used van. With an increase in customers, HM Coursier Express was able to hire its first employee, Vatea Fare Bredin, now director of operations.  
Then, throughout 2020, the Covid-19 pandemic led to a boom in the demand for e-commerce delivery services. Compared to 2017, the number of internet users in French Polynesia making purchases online at least once a week doubled from 5% to 10%, according to a [2019 report](https://www.service-public.pf/dgen/wp-content/uploads/sites/3/2020/11/2020-09-26-DGEN-USAGES-MENAGES-LOW.pdf) by the Digital Economy Directorate in French Polynesia. In the outer islands, that number rose from 1% to 9%. Henriou expanded HM Coursier Express again and hired several new employees. 
“The courier business exploded, thanks to Covid, because the people didnt want to leave their houses,” Henriou told *Rest of World*. “Everyone stayed at home; they were scared.” Every day, Henriou would work to deliver orders both within Tahiti and to the other islands. “Everyone was scared of catching the virus; but us, we could move; we could deliver, and we were already doing it,” he said. Thanks to a boom in trade, he was able to hire three new team members, who still work for the company.
![](https://149346090.v2.pressablecdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/E-COMMERCE20220223_0002-40x27.jpg)
Moanatea Henriou started the delivery business HM Coursier Express in 2018.
![](https://149346090.v2.pressablecdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/E-COMMERCE20220324_0011-40x27.jpg)
Customers place orders through HM Coursier Expresss Facebook page, where they also list services, prices, and product updates.
![](https://149346090.v2.pressablecdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/E-COMMERCE20220324_0014-40x27.jpg)
The company offers to source and deliver anything a customer might want — from fresh fruit and vegetables to clothing or even a car.
---
**In February 2022,** Henriou invited *Rest of World* to join him on a scooter run for HM Coursier Express. Before he left, he met the rest of the team at its base in the backstreets of Faaā, a busy urban district adjacent to Papeete, French Polynesias capital. Two vans and multiple scooters were parked in its concrete lot, alongside a storage area holding some packing materials and a few surplus supplies, like crates of Hinano beer.  
Once customers have sent HM Coursier Express a list using Facebook Messenger of items they want and the stores they want them from, HM Coursier offers a quote for the order and asks them to pay a deposit, usually by bank transfer. Payments have posed a barrier to e-commerce in French Polynesia: many physical banks are inaccessible, especially to those living in the outer islands. Even banks that can be reached often charge fees to hold an account. Owning a visa card is expensive and limited to those with comfortable salaries. Instead, many islanders open bank accounts through the post offices, which offer free accounts and are the only banks to have a physical presence on most of the outer islands. HM Coursier Express has a post bank account that allows people to transfer money online from other post accounts. 
Once the deposit is received, orders are organized according to destination and passed on to each driver via the iPhone Notes app, which is synced across the teams devices. One driver usually takes a scooter and specializes in small deliveries, such as paperwork and documents. The other two or three drivers travel from store to store. Customers pay a flat rate of 1,500 francs ($14) per order, which includes a trip to one store; each additional store added incurs an extra fee.  
*Rest of World*s visit in February coincided with the off-season and a slower day than usual for the couriers, so Henriou had only a few small packages to pick up. Heading off on his scooter, he zipped through a traffic jam into town.
The first stop was a womens clothing store that sold brightly colored outfits covered in tropical flowers. It was located in an area next to the central market, notorious for a lack of parking and one-way streets. Henriou deftly parked his scooter and headed into the store. He then ran on foot to a nearby art gallery to pick up another package and stopped at the Nike store to buy some shoes. It seemed like he knew everyone; at one store, the owner mentioned that a rival courier had come into her shop earlier offering their services at a reduced price.  
The shopping done, it was back on the scooter. Henriou made another quick stop at the base in Faaā to pack the goods in white plastic and mark them with customers names. Then, he went straight to the air freight terminal at Faaā International Airport.
Light orders, such as clothing or perishable items, including fresh fruit and even McDonalds meals, are sent by plane. HM Coursier Express offers its customers a 30% reduction on the price of air freight, a discount it earned from Air Tahiti, thanks to the volume it delivers. In December, during the holiday period, the business delivers on average 3 metric tons of merchandise by air. 
Heavy goods, such as cars, building supplies, and canned food, are sent by cargo ships, which service all the archipelagos. These cargo ships are the lifeblood of French Polynesia, providing remote islanders with essentials, including food, petrol, and building materials. In the last few years, theyve also been transporting steadily increasing numbers of online orders made through courier services like HM Coursier.  
At the docks in Papeete, Viriamu Fougerouse, 26-year-old director of exportation, walks around checking over telescopic forklifts. His team services one cargo ship, the Mareva Nui, which brings supplies to 17 atolls in the Western Tuamotu archipelago (including Manihi). 
During the Covid-19 lockdown from late March until August 2020, when international flights and many interisland flights stopped, the cargo ships became even more crucial, Fougerouse told *Rest of World.* “There were no more planes, but the boats never stopped. The boats always kept going,” he said. “If we didnt have these boats here, the people would die of hunger. At that time \[2020\], we saw that the planes — they might stop, but the boats never will.” 
![](https://149346090.v2.pressablecdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/E-COMMERCE20220224_0026-40x27.jpg)
Cargo ships are the lifeblood of French Polynesia, transporting essentials such as food, petrol, and building materials.
![](https://149346090.v2.pressablecdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/E-COMMERCE20220326_0039-40x27.jpg)
In the last few years, theyve also been transporting increasing numbers of online orders for companies like HM Coursier.
![](https://149346090.v2.pressablecdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/E-COMMERCE20220324_0017-40x27.jpg)
Heavy orders, such as cars, building supplies, and canned food, are sent between the island by those cargo ships.
![](https://149346090.v2.pressablecdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/E-COMMERCE20220325_0034-40x27.jpg)
Light items, such as clothing or perishables, are sent between the islands by plane.
---
**Today, HM Coursier** Express has evolved to meet the unique needs of the local market: its part personal shopping assistant, part Uber Eats, and part FedEx. The business has four full-time employees and three vans. It usually has a minimum of 30 client orders per day, a number that rises to over 100 in the lead-up to Christmas and the New Year.
But building a sustainable business has proved difficult. In 2021, Henriou took a job as an immigrations officer at Faaā International Airport, a respected position that offered a stable income and regular hours. He still works on HM Coursier when he can but has left much of the business of running the company to Fare Bredin and is hoping to sell the company to a family member. The business had an annual turnover of 5 million francs ($46,000) in 2020. 
“At the beginning, I made a lot of money because it was just for me and my girlfriend,” Henriou told *Rest of World*. “Now we employ people … and theres insurance to pay, telephone bills, and many, many other expenses, in fact. But were a company now that promotes local employment. Thats great. At least Im feeding families.”
John Tehuritaua, head of the international arm of French Polynesias Chamber of Commerce, Industry, Services and Trades, said that making e-commerce work on the islands is a challenge, owing to the lack of transportation options, which leads to high costs and delays. “People in other countries wait less than 24 hours to have their goods in front of them,” he told *Rest of World*. “If you send goods to and from Tahiti, it can take two to three weeks. … You cant confirm to your customer the day theyll receive the goods.”
> “People in other countries wait less than 24 hours to have their goods in front of them. If you send goods to and from Tahiti, it can take two to three weeks.”
One peculiarity of delivering e-commerce to Polynesias islands is market size: while more than two-thirds of French Polynesias population live on Tahiti, the rest — fewer than 100,000 people — are spread between the remaining 65 inhabited islands. For most e-commerce companies, delivering to outer islands in French Polynesia just isnt worth the cost.  
But while that kind of geographic distribution may be unworkable for e-commerce giants like Amazon, JD.com, and Alibaba, the lack of mainstream options has allowed small, local e-commerce couriers to fill the void. Across French Polynesia, HM Coursier Express has spawned copycats, and a wider ecosystem of courier businesses has developed. In 2022, there are close to 40 similar courier services, although many pop up and then disappear.  One of the attractions of starting a courier business is the low barrier to entry: all you need is a vehicle, an internet connection, and a willingness to put in the hard work. Most couriers function over Facebook or WhatsApp, but many are also exploring other online platforms, such as Telegram and TikTok, to promote their businesses and interact directly with their client base.
Thomas Tihopu, a 26-year-old delivery driver, started rival courier business Caddy Xpress Coursier with a friend, after they both lost their jobs at a car rental company, due to the pandemic lockdown and subsequent tourist ban in 2020.  
![](https://149346090.v2.pressablecdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/E-COMMERCE20220224_0027-40x26.jpg)
Tihopu is often busy handling customer service, packing goods, and filling out freight papers. All the while, hes also on his smartphone taking pictures of purchases and sending them to customers: a picture at the store, a picture of the receipt, a picture at the docks, packed and ready to go — proof that the merchandise is in mint condition.  
By providing constant updates using instant messaging platforms such as Telegram and WhatsApp, as well as offering same-day air deliveries, Tihopu hopes Caddy Xpress will stand out from bigger couriers like HM Coursier Express. “Were trying to be on top of it by just being more responsive,” he told *Rest of World.* “And trying to do everything live with the customer to make him feel like hes actually in the shop, doing his own shopping.”
For Tihopu, hes found work that he really enjoys: “This \[Caddy Xpress\] was the first time we actually worked for ourselves. And its a great feeling actually, its something that makes me want to keep on doing it. Ill probably never stop.”
In some of the more remote archipelagos, hyperlocal courier services are emerging to cater to specific islands and their needs. For example, some of the flights that stopped when the pandemic hit still havent recommenced. One of the islands affected is Ua Pou, in the Marquesas Islands — some of the most isolated islands in the world, around 1,400 kilometers from Tahiti. Known for their rugged, mountainous landscapes and distinct culture, the islands are serviced by two cargo ships.
Sisters Arlenda and Laina Valentin, who live in Ua Pou, both use courier services regularly. Arlenda, a schoolteacher and mother of two, tends to order school supplies and household goods. Laina, a secretary who recently had her first child, orders baby supplies. Both prefer to order via Facebook Messenger.
The planes that service the Marquesas stop at the main island of Nuku Hiva — not in Ua Pou. In the past, Ua Pou residents would have to travel by boat or helicopter to collect air deliveries, but, in 2020, a courier service called Nuku Transports launched: it operates solely in the Marquesas archipelago, mainly picking up freight from Nuku Hiva and transporting it by boat to the other islands.   
The Valentin sisters both agree that courier services have become indispensable. “Yes, they \[couriers\] are so important! Especially for us in the islands. And particularly for us because theres no more flights coming here,” said Laina.
Arlenda said that she liked using the couriers so that she didnt have to rely on other people: “Its important in the sense that I dont want to disturb my family or friends … that bothers me. Thats why I call the courier.”
> “\[Were\] trying to do everything live with the customer to make him feel like hes actually in the shop, doing his own shopping.”
---
**Back in Manihi,** at midday, a cargo ship called Dory arrived at the pass. Word quickly spread through the village. People began cruising in on tricycles and on foot to watch the ship drop anchor and begin unloading their wares. Locals sat under a tree, munching on long baguette sandwiches and gossiping. Workers unloaded shipping containers marked “frozen” and “refrigerated”: they held gas cylinders, bottles of water, and even an entire boat. Waiting to be packed back onto the ship were sacks of copra (dried coconut flesh), frozen fish, empty gas canisters, and pearl oyster shells. It was a frenzy of activity, but it worked like a finely oiled machine: the ships crew had clearly done this many times before.
A few hours after arrival, the ships captain set up a temporary office in an old shipping container in front of the Dory, and people formed a queue to give their names and documents and sign for their packages. They then headed to nearby open shipping containers to wait for their stuff. The most popular container was full of food. A couple of crew members pulled out cartons of Coke, cardboard boxes full of mangoes, and cartons of Hinano beer. They yelled out the names written on them, and a family member, often sent to pick up the groceries, picked up the orders and packed them into their tricycle to finally deliver home.
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# How did people sleep in the Middle Ages? - Medievalists.net
***It seems normal that people go to sleep for seven to nine hours (or at least we hope we can sleep that long), straight from evening to morning, but was that always the case? A recent book on the history of sleeping shows that during the Middle Ages people typically slept in two periods during the night.***
Roger Ekirchs book, [***At Days Close: Night in Times Past***](https://amzn.to/1R9AV2j), reveals that until modern times, when artificial lighting allowed us to stay awake longer, most people would go to bed around sunset. The actual time spent sleeping was split into two phases known as first sleep and second sleep.
Ekrich writes:
*Both phases of sleep lasted roughly the same length of time, with individuals waking sometime after midnight before returning to rest. Not everyone, of course, slept according to the same timetable. The later at night that persons went to bed, the later they stirred after their initial sleep; or, if they retired past midnight, they might not awaken at all until dawn. Thus, it The Squires Tale in The Canterbury Tales, Canacee slept “soon after evening fell” and subsequently awakened in the early morning following “her first sleep”; in turn, her companions, staying up much later, “lay asleep till it was fully prime” (daylight).*
In between the first and second sleep the person would be awake about an hour enough to say prayers during Matins, which would typically fall between 2 am and 3 am, study or even have sex. The French physician Laurent Joubert (1529-1581) even advised that couples have intercourse during this period, because “they have more enjoyment” and “do it better.”
![](https://ir-na.amazon-adsystem.com/e/ir?t=medievalistsn-20&l=as2&o=1&a=0393329011)Ekrich adds:
*Although in some descriptions a neighbors quarrel or a barking dog woke people prematurely from their initial sleep, the vast weight of surviving evidence indicates that awakening naturally was routine not the consequence of disturbed or fitful slumber. Medical books, in fact, from the fifteenth to the eighteenth centuries frequently advised sleepers, for better digestion and more tranquil repose, to lie on their right side during “the fyrste slepe” and “after the fyrste slepe turne on the lefte side.” And even though the French historian Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie investigated no further, his study of fourteenth-century Montaillou notes that “the hour of first sleep” was a customary division of night, as was the hour halfway through the first sleep.” Indeed, though not used as frequently as expressions like “candle-lighting,” the “dead of night”, or cock-crow,” the term “first sleep” remained a common temporal division until the late eighteenth-century. As described in La Demonolatrie (1595) by Nicholas Remy, “Comes dusk, followed by nightfall, dark night, then the moment of the first sleep and finally dead of night.”*
Not everyone slept in two periods Ekrich cites some people from the pre-modern period who note that they would sleep throughout the night. But does seem to have been common practice for people, dating back to ancient times. In this interview on *The Agenda*, the author reveals more about the practice.
![](https://ir-na.amazon-adsystem.com/e/ir?t=medievalistsn-20&l=as2&o=1&a=026803656X)Meanwhile, Jean Verdon, author of [***Night in the Middle Ages***](https://amzn.to/1R9B6L2), notes that some medieval people had different sleeping patterns. Children, for instance, were advised to sleep the entire night, for nine or ten consecutive hours. However, for the very young, this task might be tricky. The fifteenth-century story *La Farce du Cuvier*, offers this verse on the troubles of getting ones child to sleep something that every parent nowadays can relate too:
*At night, if the child awakes*
*As they do in many places,*
*You must take the trouble*
*To get up to rock him,*
*To walk, carry, and feed him*
*In the bedroom, even at midnight.* 
[![Support Medievalists on Patreon](https://www.medievalists.net/wp-content/plugins/gumlet/assets/images/pixel.png)](https://www.patreon.com/medievalists "Support Medievalists on Patreon")
Medieval monks were also required to sleep differently according to the Rule of St.Benedict, they would go to bed about 7:00 pm, and then wake up for Matins around 2:00 in the morning. While other monastic rules allowed for a second sleep, the Benedictine monks would continue to stay awake (they might be allowed to have a nap during the day). Some monks were tempted not to get out of bed Raoul Glaber, who lived during the 11th century, wrote that he was plagued by a demon, who whispered to him:
*I wonder why you are so eager to jump so quickly out of bed, as soon as youve heard the signal, and to interrupt the sweet rest of sleep, while you could give yourself up to rest until the third signal.*
[![Devil tempting a sleeping monk - from British Library Royal 10 E IV f. 221](https://www.medievalists.net/wp-content/plugins/gumlet/assets/images/pixel.png)](https://www.medievalists.net/2016/01/03/how-did-people-sleep-in-the-middle-ages/sleeping-monk/)
Devil tempting a sleeping monk from British Library Royal 10 E IV f. 221
![](https://ir-na.amazon-adsystem.com/e/ir?t=medievalistsn-20&l=am2&o=1&a=026803656X)[![](https://ws-na.amazon-adsystem.com/widgets/q?_encoding=UTF8&MarketPlace=US&ASIN=0393329011&ServiceVersion=20070822&ID=AsinImage&WS=1&Format=_SL250_&tag=medievalistsn-20)](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0393329011/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0393329011&linkCode=as2&tag=medievalistsn-20&linkId=80913cab1b00bee71eb8cb6883ee5bc7)![](https://ir-na.amazon-adsystem.com/e/ir?t=medievalistsn-20&l=am2&o=1&a=0393329011)![](https://ir-na.amazon-adsystem.com/e/ir?t=medievalistsn-20&l=am2&o=1&a=1456492543)Verdon adds that medieval people could have the same problems related to sleeping that we do, including insomnia, sleeping too much, and even sleep-walking. The chronicler Jean Froissart heard the story of a noble named Pierre de Béarn who had a traumatic experience when he killed an exceptionally large bear in hand-to-hand combat. Afterwards, during his sleep he would rise, grab a sword and swing it around at the air. If he could not find his weapon, Pierre “created such noise and clamor that it seemed like all the demons of hell were there with him.” Eventually, his wife and children would leave him over the problem.
See also [**Sleepwalking and Murder in the Middle Ages**](https://www.medievalists.net/2014/09/08/sleepwalking-murder-middle-ages/)
See also: [**The Medieval Sleeping Beauty**](https://www.medievalists.net/2015/06/18/the-medieval-sleeping-beauty/)
[![](https://www.medievalists.net/wp-content/plugins/gumlet/assets/images/pixel.png)](https://www.karwansaraypublishers.com/combo-subs/medievalists-special.html)
[Click here to get two great magazines Medieval Warfare and Ancient History](https://www.karwansaraypublishers.com/combo-subs/medievalists-special.html)
*Top Image: A sleeping man in a medieval manuscript from British Library Royal 19 D III f. 458*
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# One Last Trip
## After his death, I traveled with my brothers remains, searching for the life hed always wanted. It was closer than I thought.
Photo: Courtesy of Monica Corcoran Harel
![](https://pyxis.nymag.com/v1/imgs/ae6/e37/2ad4eb9e5ea704340294bed6b37c3667fe-HighSchoolRobert.rsquare.w700.jpg)
Photo: Courtesy of Monica Corcoran Harel
![](https://pyxis.nymag.com/v1/imgs/ae6/e37/2ad4eb9e5ea704340294bed6b37c3667fe-HighSchoolRobert.rsquare.w700.jpg)
Photo: Courtesy of Monica Corcoran Harel
Family [vacations](https://www.thecut.com/2022/03/mother-daughter-vacation.html) are never easy. On a trip with my older brother, Robert, a few years ago, I wondered if we even *needed* to see the world together. Were we really making up for lost time at Delta lounges? That my brother was actually a fistful of cremated remains in my fanny pack perhaps didnt help.
There are a few things you should know about Robert: He never left the country during his life — in fact, I doubt he visited more than a dozen U.S. states total. Thats not to say he didnt hint at wanderlust. “I should see Ireland,” he would say to me with a smile. Neither of us mentioned that Robert would have seen Ireland if he had showed up at our 2012 family reunion in Glengarriff, a village of fewer than 150 people in County Cork. My dad — whose grandmother grew up there and was one of 17 siblings — even bought him a plane ticket. At the reunion, my cousins and aunts and uncles all asked, “Wheres Robert?” with an involuntary wince.
Which brings me to the next thing: He [drank](https://www.thecut.com/2022/03/essay-how-do-i-talk-about-my-mother-now-that-shes-gone.html). Not one too many glasses of Chianti or a fleet of bracing gin-and-tonics. Mixers and garnishes didnt interest him. He drank fast and furiously. I really dont ever remember seeing my brother tipsy after he started seriously [drinking](https://www.thecut.com/2022/01/sober-questioning-cut-column-sobriety.html) around the age of 16. In his mind, alcohol was rocket fuel. Why hover a few feet off the ground when you can ricochet around the solar system? Thats a long way to fall.
Eventually, he fell hard. Robert, just three years older than me, was sweet and sensitive as a kid. If you asked for a bite of his Kit Kat, he would roll his eyes but pass it. When he hit high school, girls started calling the house — and hanging up nervously when I answered the landline. Robert was approachably handsome, with sea-glass-green eyes and a cleft in his chin. In college, he met his future wife, Cathy, who didnt break up with him even when he got ejected for failing every single class one semester. (At that point, he was drinking during the day.) My brother married Cathy after she graduated. They had a daughter, Bridget, and bought a cute single-family house in Connecticut a few years later. On paper, Robert was winning at life.
Photo: Courtesy of Monica Corcoran Harel
On January 3, 2016, my brother died of a diabetic coma brought on by alcoholism. He was 49 and homeless at the time, found behind a Winn-Dixie supermarket in Cocoa Beach, Florida. His blood sugar plummeted around midnight, we think, and according to the typical symptoms, he probably felt shaky and nauseous at first. Then his head started to buzz. If he tried to call out for help, his plea was garbled. He would have sounded drunk, though there was no alcohol in his system. During the precipitous drop in glucose, he was likely alive but couldnt wake up or respond to sights or sounds. The police found him the next morning sprawled next to his Schwinn bicycle. The coroner surmised he died at around 3 a.m.
I suppose it could have been so much worse. My mom and I sometimes talk about how he might have been beaten to death on the streets or struck by a car. When I close my eyes, I see my brother in his final breaths, inert but intact. Thankfully, there is no blood on the pavement. The wheel of his bikes back tire spins, as it did when he dropped it haphazardly on the front lawn when we were kids. Still, Robert was all alone in the end. “Dying” and “alone” are two words that dont flatter each other.
Our idealized image of the end — one that many, many families were robbed of throughout these last pandemic years — is that final squeeze of a frail hand.  The huddling around as if were launching a skiff out to sea. When I hesitantly told friends how Robert died tragically and singularly, they shuddered and shook their heads: “You didnt get closure.”
In her new book, *The Myth of Closure: Ambiguous Loss in a Time of Pandemic and Change*, psychologist and family therapist Pauline Boss challenges our collective assumption that clarity is the key to getting over loss. She writes: “To all of you who are grieving someone or something you loved and lost during this pandemic, may I say this? It is not closure you need but certainty that your loved one is gone, that they understood why you could not be there to comfort them, that they loved you and forgave you in their last moments of life.”
That certainty is usually punctuated by rituals around death: funerals, memorial services, sitting shiva. We gather to show support, swap memories, and say “good-bye.” [Studies](https://dash.harvard.edu/bitstream/handle/1/10683152/norton%20gino_rituals-and-grief.pdf) [have](https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7887294/) even shown that people who experience loss and participate in some form of mourning ritual feel less grief and more control.
We did commemorate Robert with a memorial luncheon. Hearing everyone, including his ex-wife, speak about his kindness, loyalty, and penchant for quoting Bill Murray movies helped me focus on his qualities that werent quashed by his addiction. Still, I wanted my brother, who lived so itinerantly — bouncing from apartments to shelters to the streets — to have some say in where he finally rested.
His only request was to be cremated. My mom passed on the remains to me in a ziplock baggie. Apparently we are not urn folks.
By the way, “ashes” is not accurate. Whats left after a cremation is more like coarse cement-colored sand. It has heft and tiny slivers of bone, but no scent. Poke your fingers inside a pile of cremated remains and youre left with a ghostly residue — almost as though you just clapped elementary-school chalkboard erasers. Most people display their ashes on a mantle or a bookshelf. At first, I put the baggie of my brother in my spice cabinet, behind a bottle of dried homegrown oregano. Robert loved to cook, sure — but I knew my brothers remains deserved better.
Photo: Courtesy of Monica Corcoran Harel
For almost $4,000, I could have Robert baked into a bespoke 12-inch vinyl record with a few of his favorite tracks. (His playlist would include REM and Aimee Mann.) All I could imagine was the onus to listen to Roberts record lest it collect dust like my other vinyl.
For about the same financial outlay, I could have carbon extracted from my brothers ashes and transformed into a quarter-carat heirloom diamond. (A full carat will cost you $20,000.) That seemed too intimate. More appropriate for a romantic partner.
A commemorative tattoo, which uses traditional ink mixed with cremated ashes, didnt feel right either.
Neither did shooting my brother into deep space for $12,500.
Creating 250 rounds of shotgun ammo out of a pound of Roberts remains in exchange for $850: hard pass.
Eventually, I decided we would get lost together. Robert, who commandeered maps on our family vacations and loved to spin a globe as a boy, would finally travel. Even better, he could become an expat of sorts — I planned to leave a little bit of Robert behind in every metaphorical port. My husband, Gadi, and I labeled the plan “Planes, Trains and Remains.”
“Do you mind if we bring Robert with us to Rome?” I asked Gadi one night about six months after my brother died. (We were heading there from Los Angeles for four nights to celebrate our wedding anniversary.) Gadi, who loved Robert, thought it was a great idea.
Thing is, you cant just hurl a handful of your deceased brother into the Trevi Fountain after a few glasses of Barolo. If you do, a pair of young, armed polizia could aggressively approach you and your husband. If your Italian is limited to *mi scusami* (excuse me) and *stracciatella* (chocolate chip gelato), you will gesticulate madly that the powdery substance in your hand is the remains of your brother Robert and not anthrax or some other biological weapon. My husband and I quickly learned — only after a sympathetic and amused Italian bystander came to our aid that night and whispered, “Fratello morto” — that you need a $250 permit from the local city hall to scatter remains in Rome. Gadi and I promised the guards that we would pay for the permit on the following day. We didnt. Instead, I dropped pinches of Robert along dark, desolate cobblestone streets on our last couple of nights. At a particularly charming outdoor café in the Monti neighborhood, I slyly sprinkled a bit of my brother under a table, much as you might secretly feed a stray cat.
Photo: Courtesy of Monica Corcoran Harel
Rome is particularly restrictive when it comes to scattering remains. The European laws around the ritual vary from country to country: Finland is quite chill about scattering a deceased loved one — you can bury or release ashes in an open area as long as you get written permission from the landowner. In Germany, only two regions allow remains to be dispersed outside of an official cemetery. Venice constructed a special dock off the San Michele cemetery in 2010 for a final farewell. Here in the U.S., its more of a free-for-all, but you have to ask permission before you scatter remains on private property, which makes sense — and ashes can only be sprinkled in the ocean three or more nautical miles from land.
Our next stop was more of an existential fiasco than a logistical nightmare: the Yucatan Peninsula in Mexico over the holidays in 2018. I had packed just a few tablespoons of him in a perfume bottle and was prepared to say “hermano muerto” with a sad face if the airport authorities took me aside this time. My 8-year-old daughter, Tess, knew to cry if she saw me frown. No one stopped us. But when Gadi, Tess, and I arrived at our suite in a ritzy resort with a personal heated plunge pool, I felt like an entitled jerk. In the final few months of my brothers life, his possessions could easily be crammed into a backpack. He didnt have a bed or a shower. All I could think was, “My sister went to Mexico and all I got was this lousy T-shirt.” Tess saw my frown and started to cry on cue.
With that glaring disparity in mind, I took Robert to Joshua Tree National Park in March 2019. This time, I wanted to pseudo-experience his stripped-down life by sleeping on the hardscrabble ground and eating gas-station snacks. I plopped the ziplock-baggie urn on the front seat of my Mini Cooper for the 125-mile drive east from L.A. We listened to *his* favorite bands from back when we were kids: I happily belted out Super Tramp (“Ill give a little bit of my life for you!”) and reluctantly sang along to Rush (“What you say about his company is what you say about society.”) That felt good. My brother always loved nature, the quiet calm. When he visited me in the East Village when we were both in our 20s, city sounds like a human screech or an engine backfire made him flinch. “Its too loud here. Its too fast,” he once muttered as we walked down St. Marks Place.
As I hiked desert trails around the park that afternoon, I could appreciate the simplicity of how he lived, with just a crappy bike, Jansport knapsack, change of clothes, water bottle, and some snacks to his name. The everyday angst that comes with a conventional life — struggling to meet a monthly mortgage, striving in a career, fighting over who folded the laundry last — seemed so petty in this majestic setting. But when the sun sunk below the mountain range in Joshua Tree that evening, the temperature dipped to the 40s. I had no resilience. We slept in the car. Also, for the record: while I did not purchase a $120 permit to scatter my brothers ashes in the park, I *did* discreetly shake out a bit of him around the ten-foot tall “Heart Rock” the next morning.
In the end, I brought my brother back to New York last summer and left a bit of him in Central Park near Strawberry Fields, where Yoko Ono reportedly scattered John Lennons ashes. There are a few teaspoons of Robert in Montauk and in Montana, too. But ultimately, it dawned on me that I was carting around Roberts remains like some sort of grief-stricken pixie with a bag of magic fairy dust — all to assuage the pangs of guilt I feel for not being there for him when he died. Or even when he lived.
Over a span of 20 or so years, my brother lost absolutely everything that mattered to him: his wife, his daughter, his house, his health. If Robert were granted one wish, would he ask for it all back or would he choose a weekend in Cabo? I finally realized that I could give my brother what he sacrificed and struggled to regain: stability, a family, a home. And selfishly, I could get what I always wanted, which is to know that my brother, who went missing so many times during his lifetime, is safe and near me. Last year, we planted a leafy ficus tree in the backyard, and on Roberts birthday in September, we fertilized it with the very last of him.
One Last Trip
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# Tortilla de Harina: A Moon of Mystery
[![](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3d39ba07-f6c2-43eb-860d-ef367e16453c_4482x2982.jpeg)](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3d39ba07-f6c2-43eb-860d-ef367e16453c_4482x2982.jpeg)
###### Photo from [prexels.](https://www.pexels.com/search/full%20moon/)
*Writers note: Thank you for being here! February was a wash, but Im back with a dispatch for the month of March. The newsletter is free, though if you wish to support my workif youre able and if it calls to youshoot me a tip via Venmo at @andreaaliseda. Otherwise, relax, enjoy, share with a friend! This ones a long one, so settle in and get comfortable. Un abrazo!*
\-
Chewy, translucent, buttery, and soft, the tortilla de harina rises on the comal like a sand-colored moon with charcoal etched craters. And with it, rise 500 years of history and culture that ride along the edges of northern Mexico and its borderlands. 
To Norteños, like my partner Marcel, who is from Mexicali, Baja California, tortillas de harina are a religion. So much so that even tacos, like cabeza, tripas, carne asada or al pastor, are famously served on their soft and chewy surface. Yes, tacos, not burritos. As a Tijuanense, in my home, tortillas de harina and maíz both had their place, and were both fervidly enjoyed. But for norteños and desert descendants like Marcel, where wheat easily thrives in its dry arid heat, and maíz does nottortillas de harina reign above all. 
Javier Cabrals 2021 piece, [A Flour Tortilla Map of Los Angeles from Sonoran to Mexicali-Styles](https://www.lataco.com/best-flour-tortillas-los-angeles-taco/) supports this pointed distinction. “Ask anyone in Sonora what the proper tortilla for carne asada is, and they will vehemently respond with de harina, a huevo. But ask that same question to a Tijuanense and they will be much laxer in their answer,” he writes. 
This response alone reveals how regional borderlands are, by agriculture, climate, and the culture that emerged around it.
And if Mexicali is known for its tacos with tortilla de harina, then Sonorawhich is its neighboring stateis famous for their sobaquera, the pinnacle of the tortilla de harina. Sobaquera translates to “armpitted” as Gustavo Arellano explains in his [Splendid Table](https://www.splendidtable.org/story/2018/04/19/in-defense-of-flour-tortillas-an-origin-story-with-gustavo-arellano) interview with Francis Lam. Sobaco is slang for armpit, and sobaquera describes a tortilla which is so large and thin that in stretching it, its length reaches the sobaco.
[![](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F39bf0ee1-8283-42f1-97f5-7ac3bac5915b_640x479.jpeg)](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F39bf0ee1-8283-42f1-97f5-7ac3bac5915b_640x479.jpeg)
The tortilla de harina has a history that spans over five centuries in the northern borderlands of Mexico, with regional varietals that range in texture and method from the Baja California, Sonora, Sinaloa, Chihuahua, Nuevo Leon regions, where around [45% of Mexicos wheat production is grown](https://www.foodnavigator-latam.com/Article/2019/09/16/Mexico-s-wheat-production-on-the-rise-as-farmers-benefit-from-incentives-program).
So why then, are they still one of the most misunderstood foods in Mexican cuisine?
I suppose, our answer lies in what is perceived by the United States, where whats most accessible are bleached-looking mass-produced rounds we see in chain grocery stores and fast-food restaurants.
In the Splendid Table interview, Arellano says what Im thinking when the interviewer echos the USian consumers relation of tortillas de harina to Taco Bell and to its many commodified versions. “\[People who think this\] have never had a good flour tortilla in their life,” Arellano exclaims. Y punto. “I would say most people who know flour tortillas now know the Chipotle model, which is mass-produced,” he explains. But this model, dear reader, is not the flour tortillas I know, nor the ones my partner was shaped with, nor the ones Sonora is revered for. Not the ones you can dab a pat of butter on a freshly warmed round and roll it up as a midday snack. No, señor. These are bastardized reproductions made to sit on shelves far longer than any tortilla should. These soap-tasting disks are merely capitalism at playnot an accurate representation of our culture as northern and borderland peoples. 
[![](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6bb14701-17a8-4ea3-9a3b-3a3f8d135a32_504x385.jpeg)](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6bb14701-17a8-4ea3-9a3b-3a3f8d135a32_504x385.jpeg)
A flour tortilla is an experience. A chewy and buttery delight, and it is so intrinsic to our northern palates that chef Eric See of Ursula, as I reported for [Bklyner](https://bklyner.com/come-for-burritos-stay-for-the-scones-conversation-with-eric-see-of-awkward-scone/) in 2020 when he was still under the moniker The Awkward Scone, had his mom help him ship the thick chewy New Mexican tortillas for his famous breakfast burritos from New Mexico to Brooklyn, NY. 
However, there is a larger part of this conversation, an elephant that needs be addressed. So often this deeply interwoven food of our border culture is characterized and boiled down to its seed of origin: a product of colonization. 
Wheat.
Its complex.
Soleil Ho touches on this bruise in our culture in their piece, [These artisanal flour tortillas are nothing like what you get at a grocery store. Heres how to find them](https://www.sfchronicle.com/food/restaurants/article/flour-tortillas-bay-area-xulo-semilla-mamacuca-17001425.php), when explaining why there exists hesitation in the US. They write, “Artisanal flour tortilla hasnt taken off in national popularity quite the way that masa has. Tension still exists around its history: Mexicos wheat came from 17-century Spanish missionaries who enslaved Indigenous people to cultivate wheat fields in a land that theyd stolen.”
This is where it gets tricky. What they say is true, and also, its not all there is to the storythe part where it becomes Mexican gastronomy matters too. In Mexico and Mexican history, one soon comes to find that both things exist, and both things are true. The good and the bad hang together in a constant balance.
Gan Chin Lin touches on fraught colonial relationships with wheat eloquently in her recent piece for [Wordloaf](https://wordloaf.substack.com/p/in-pursuit-of-vegan-milk-bread?s=r) on bread, specifically, vegan milk bread, and it resonated with me in this context. She writes, “our heritage is the story of how we came to know wheat in the first place, and the exciting dynamic after, of what we did with it.”  
Herein is that story of flour tortillas. What my ancestors did with it.
[![](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F68544263-93c8-4a6d-9d14-dcd6edc5bb29_1024x700.jpeg)](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F68544263-93c8-4a6d-9d14-dcd6edc5bb29_1024x700.jpeg)
During Hernan Cortés crusades, which we all know violently aimed to eradicate the thriving Indigenous culture that pre-existed his arrivals to impose upon a new society that heralded Eurocentric ideals, one of the many ingredients he brought forth was wheat. This had not only a purpose in palate and flavor, but played a religious role as well. In Spanish culture, bread was sacred; the body of Christ. This is much like maíz was sacred to the Indigenous people; source of human life and its physical form.  
Voices of Mexico, an UNAM (Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México) publication, writes in their piece titled, [The Arrival of Wheat in Mexico](http://www.revistascisan.unam.mx/Voices/pdfs/2919.pdf), “it is quite possible that the first crops of wheat came from the shipments of grain found by Cortés.” However, along with Cortés in this excursion was a free African man, born in West Africa, he is said to have gone to Lisbon enslaved and freed as he joined the expedition to the New World in Sevilla, and is known by the name of [Juan Garrido](https://aaregistry.org/story/juan-garrido-early-black-explorer-born/). Garrido is the true shepherd of wheat in Mexico. Legend says that while he cleaned rice for the Mexican army, he found three grains of wheat. Garrido planted them on his plot of land, and only one germinated. But it was from the *one* that *180* grains sprouted, “from which the cereal was propagated throughout Mexican territory.” The magazine writes that by 1524 wheat was in “significant” production.  
The propagation was done with stolen labor, as Ho notes.
Arellano gives further context to these times; during the 1500s-1600s the north, where land took easily to growing wheat, was full of “undesirables.” He says this included Jewish, Muslim, and Moorish peoples. 
“The reality is no one knows how flour tortillas got started in Mexico,” Arrellano says, “except that it was done in Northern Mexico.” 
[![](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fbf730f30-e789-4518-8f11-3d785d6299ba_600x337.png)](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fbf730f30-e789-4518-8f11-3d785d6299ba_600x337.png)
###### Image of Northern Mexico regions and states from [timeanddate.com](https://www.timeanddate.com/news/time/north-mexico-dst-change.html).
[Quiminet.com](https://www.quiminet.com/articulos/400-anos-de-historia-de-la-tortilla-de-harina-17530.htm) writes that the timeline for tortillas de harina began in 1542 in Sonora, where a mixture of “broken” wheat and water is turned into something that came to be known as “zaruki.” Zaruki is also a village in Iran. But could it be a possible clue to the inhabitants of the north and originators of the flour tortilla?
According to Rocio Carvajal, historian, food writer, and host of [Pass The Chipotle](http://www.passthechipotle.com/)a food-centered historical podcast which untangles the history of Mexico through cuisinethere is. “Spaniards had been colonised by Islam and the 700 years of cultural domination left a deep cultural footprint including food traditions,” she writes via email. “A flatbread from the Zaruki region (present-day Iran) was known to them and presumably many Spanish settlers were very familiar with it and reproduced a similar bread using the newly introduced wheat in the Americas.”
Here, the pieces of the puzzle begin to come together, a shape starts to form, and we begin to see a road to our modern flour tortillas. 
Theres the Iranian influence that Carvajal notes. I think on taftoon bread, round, flat and full of air pockets. I also think of lavashwhich Arellano too sees the similarities in flour tortillasthin, chewy, and slightly bubbly, usually served or sold in long rectangular pieces and baked in a tandoor oven.
[![](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F263d9418-7a14-4483-b382-1edd8556b155_600x450.jpeg)](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F263d9418-7a14-4483-b382-1edd8556b155_600x450.jpeg)
###### Iranian Taftoon bread, usually made with whole wheat flour, milk, eggs, and yogurt. Photo from [Taste Atlas](https://www.tasteatlas.com/nan-e-taftoon).
Then theres the [Arabic influence that is deeply felt in Mexico](https://theculturetrip.com/north-america/mexico/articles/mexicos-hidden-arabic-heritage/) due to the Spanish conquest. Their imprint is so deep that its [easily spotted in everyday language](https://www.babbel.com/en/magazine/arabic-influence-on-spanish). Think: algodón, limón, alcachofa, even, Guadalajara (meaning valley of the stone). Food follows. The Arabic flatbread, known as pita, khubz or kuboos, is also a distinctly clear relative. Linguist and writer David Bowles makes this connection in his Medium piece, [Mexican X-plainer: Al-Andalus & the Flour Tortilla](https://davidbowles.medium.com/mexican-x-plainer-al-andalus-and-the-flour-tortil-5a7d10346b8f)**,** where he compares a raghīf al-khobz and tortilla de harina ballooning on a comal in identical fashion. Tortillas de harina are Arabic, Bowles writes, like much of our Mexican culture.
[![](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fdc513739-982a-4b9d-86c7-5c3fe92b6fd8_720x480.webp)](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fdc513739-982a-4b9d-86c7-5c3fe92b6fd8_720x480.webp)
###### This kuboos recipe from [Yummy Tummy Aarthi](https://www.yummytummyaarthi.com/kuboos-arabic-pita-bread-recipe/) includes flour, sugar, yeast, salt, olive oil, warm water.
When Marcel and I havent had access to well-made tortillas de harinathey are resourceful. He will often come back from the store with lavash for quesadillas or burritos, or to be served as sides to dishes. Yet, aside from the textural difference, lavash sometimes differs from flour tortilla in its recipe, calling for sugar, yeast, egg, or yogurtdepending on the recipes region of origin. Hes also stocked the fridge with pita, though we dont always use it as an exact substitute like we have with lavash. But it satisfies their ingrained Mexicali longing for flatbread.
Then theres roti, what wed get when living in New York. Wed visit [Duals Natural](https://dualsnatural.com/) in the East Village and Marcel would grab packs of it to take homenoting how similar roti was to flour tortillas. They were similar in shape, texture, and size to what we were accustomed to in our respective border homelands. 
[![](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3d699ade-0609-4ef6-9294-a6827cbd51ef_800x550.jpeg)](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3d699ade-0609-4ef6-9294-a6827cbd51ef_800x550.jpeg)
Bowles also touches on the theory of a Jewish influence. “\[They\] would eat this thin flatbread during ritual times like Passover (when only unleavened bread made of wheat, spelt, barley, rye, or oat is allowed).” he writes. “It IS very similar to unleavened soft matzah (basically kosher tortillas), so I wouldnt be surprised!”
And just when you think weve exhausted all options, and opened every door, I believe there are still stones left unturned. Another possible theory to the tortilla de harinas origin.
In Marcels hometown of Mexicali, there is a big Chinese population and it is known that the [Chinese food in Mexicali is king](https://www.vice.com/en/article/d75yax/the-innovative-chinese-food-coming-out-of-a-mexican-border-town). Though, the truth is, its been a very enshrouded history.
Chinese people first came to Mexico in 1564 in whats considered as the Manila galleons (“ships from China”), according to [The](https://www.jstor.org/stable/40542720?seq=1) *[Chinos](https://www.jstor.org/stable/40542720?seq=1)* [in New Spain: A Corrective Lens for a Distorted Image](https://www.jstor.org/stable/40542720?seq=1) by Edward R. Slack Jr.. “Chino” was the category given to any person of East and South Asian descent, and it created blatant racism and erasure of the peoples who would be brought to Mexico in bondage, who the Spanish depended on for [food and other services](https://digitalcommons.bard.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1306&context=senproj_s2018). Unlike the name suggested, the Chinese were not the only people being brought to Acapulcos ports in the Manila galleons; Filipino, Japanese and Indian people were also included. The author writes that the Asian “impact on New Spain has been sorely neglected in the histography of colonial Mexico.” Which makes it incredibly difficult to trace which cultures and from what regions of a massive continent, made which contributions in what regions in what came to be the country of Mexico. What we do know, according to the text, is after being freed, Asian peoples of Mexico lived all across the country, some to the states of Baja California in cities like Loreto, and later in [Sonora](https://www.jstor.org/stable/481468). Which makes me think: if this history is unclear, then dates and places may all be uncertain, and that might mean theres a possibility for my guess to be as good as any. Even so, 500 years is a long time for the flour tortilla of mysterious origins. I imagine many hands have passed through it, tweaking the recipe and techniques throughout centuries. It could very well be possible for East and South Asian influence to exist in the width of the flour tortilla. 
All of this, of course, is just theory.
But, indulge me.
Take for example, this [pecking duck pancake recipe](https://redhousespice.com/easy-chinese-tortilla/), chun bing 春饼 (meaning, spring pancake), from the blog, [Red House Spice](https://redhousespice.com/). The ingredients call for what was once known as “zaruki”: flour and water. The pancakes are translucent and soft. And these [Chinese Mandarin pancakes](https://www.chinasichuanfood.com/chinese-mandarin-pancake/) from the blog, [China Sichuan Food](https://www.chinasichuanfood.com/), which Id say look nearly identical to the pride of norteño food, boasting the beloved oily sheen and translucent, doughy body. This recipe calls for flour and water as well, with the addition of fatin this case sesame or vegetable oil. They are had as an accompaniment to stews, dried tofu, [moo shu pork](https://www.chinasichuanfood.com/moo-shu-pork/) and pecking duck, among other things. Much like in Mexican food, they accompany beans, carne asada, seafood, soups, and more. Chinese pancakes have origins in 3rd century Shandong Province and were cooked across [copper made griddles](https://www.chilihousesf.com/blog/getting-to-know-chinese-pancakes/) to feed soldiers. In the family shared blog, [The Woks of Life](https://thewoksoflife.com/), Judy writes in the preface of their [mandarin pancake recipe](https://thewoksoflife.com/how-to-make-mandarin-pancakes-dumpling-wrappers/), “mandarin pancakes are like the Chinese version of a flour tortilla.” Though I am left wondering; if they predate flour tortillas by roughly 13 centuries, then our flatbreads may actually be the Mexican version of mandarin pancakes.
[![](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fe7417ba0-c6ea-4b63-9374-d259d330b3c1_827x796.jpeg)](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fe7417ba0-c6ea-4b63-9374-d259d330b3c1_827x796.jpeg)
In its neighboring state, Sonora, mother of the sobaqueras, I question what could be another Asian connection in flour tortillas. Indian influence is felt most notably through Mira or Meera, who was originally said to be from the kingdom of Gran Mogol (Mughal), who would come to be [Catarina de San Juan](https://www.saada.org/tides/article/mughal-princess-of-mexico)inspiring much of what we now consider traditional Mexican textiles and garments. But I dont think it ends there. Look closely at a roti, its recipe also calls for flour, water, and fat, in their case, ghee in lieu of pork fat. But look closer. The rumali roti is paper thin, as Arellano describes for the sobaqueras, stretched out and giant. I found a YouTube video of a [man making rumali](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XCcwVEyihW4) roti in India, and [a woman making sobaqueras](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GpqxieZ5bI4) in Sonora. Play them side by sidethe similarities are striking. Firstly, they both use a rounded comal griddle that sticks out like the belly of the sun. The dough gets rolled with a pin, then using their forearms both the cooks flap it around artfully, in a practiced and memorized quick spinning motion that stretches their doughall the way to the sobaco. As if rehearsed, they follow the same steps almost to a tee. 
[![](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc2d3dac0-d75a-4c73-8b50-d7bf8c42495f_502x496.png)](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc2d3dac0-d75a-4c73-8b50-d7bf8c42495f_502x496.png)
###### [Sobaquera](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GpqxieZ5bI4)
Rumali, or roomali, comes from “roomal” a Hindi word which means handkerchief, according to [Times of India](https://recipes.timesofindia.com/us/articles/features/beginners-guide-the-story-behind-roomali-roti-and-how-to-make-it-perfectly/articleshow/82220315.cms). Its history reveals the name is due to its thinness and likeness to a handkerchief, used to sop up oils and cradle meats. It originated in the Mughal era, which started in the 1520s, and is said to have been popular in Punjab, where it is called Lamboo roti, and in its neighboring country, Pakistan as wellwhere preparation methods are also starkly similar, sans round comal. 
If we continue to pull the thread, we see the origins of roti take us back to the origins of flatbread. [First Law Comic](https://firstlawcomic.com/who-made-the-first-flat-bread/) writes of a Persian origin, “In 500 B.C., records exist that indicate that Persian soldiers baked a flatbread on their shields which they then covered with cheese and dates.” This takes my mind back to “zaruki,” a Persian word which thanks to a friends investigation (thanks, Sep and Seps dad!), we find it has several translations in Farsi: including yelling in pain from a bee sting or snake bite. “And in some part of Kerman, the province Zaruki is in,” writes Sep (whose dad is fluent in Farsi) via text, “it is a name of a type of bee.” Bee stings cause hot swollen bumps, much like the hot air bubbles that form in a tortilla. Could there be a correlation?
The truth is, I dont have an answer, Mexican history has many gaping holes and with it, many origins. And even in seeking answers, I too am probably leaving behind holes for someone else to uncover. I just hold burning questions and jagged theories to fit together like puzzle pieces without a grander picture to draw from. A picture that many before me have worked to put together. I hold its many threads that pull and pull, leading me into different directions, and spirals that sometimes spin me right back to the very beginning. Back to zaruki. Back to roti, mandarin pancakes, and pitawhose flatbreads belong to a people with history in Mexico, whose stories are roots that have been cast aside and buried, leaving tremendous gaps that span centuries. Ones that deserve to see the light of day and be revered, repaired, and remembered. Ones that we hold in the floured moons of our Mexican cuisine; a shred of light to a dark night of many stars we are now left to connect.
[![](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F99dfdbf7-8f63-4060-a134-6c748ef6526f_480x459.jpeg)](https://cdn.substack.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fbucketeer-e05bbc84-baa3-437e-9518-adb32be77984.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F99dfdbf7-8f63-4060-a134-6c748ef6526f_480x459.jpeg)
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Tag: ["Crime", "Sport", "US"]
Date: 2022-04-03
DocType: "WebClipping"
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TimeStamp: 2022-04-03
Link: https://www.si.com/nfl/2022/03/29/henry-ruggs-iii-tony-rodriguez-crash-daily-cover
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# This Whole Thing Has F---ed Me Up
The man walks into a Las Vegas Starbucks and his hands speak first. They are small and rough and soiled, with used-sandpaper skin and nails nubbed down by an uneasy life. You can read so much from a persons hands, and Tony Rodriguezs hands tell the story of a troubled journey.
Or, put differently: There is no joy to the 47-year-old sitting here. Not as a medium black coffee is placed before him, not as he talks about shared geography and athletic glory days. Some folks walk the earth with a pep in their step. Others come to believe they are cursed.
Tony Rodriguez does not use that word, cursed. But there are certainly times when he wonders how, exactly, it all came to this: his past life dealing drugs along the Vegas Strip, his three years and counting addicted to heroin and meth, his long nights sleeping inside tunnels and on park benches, his hunger, his anxiousness, his waywardness.
![dCOVhenryruggscrash_V](https://www.si.com/.image/t_share/MTg4MzkxMzMxNjIwOTg4NDM1/dcovhenryruggscrash_v.jpg)
Eric Jamison/AP
Rodriguez says he makes money today largely by sneaking onto construction sites, stealing copper wiring, stripping it down and then selling it. Some of the earnings go toward food and rent. Much goes to the heroin that he and his girlfriend, Brittany, shoot into their arms at least once every day. He is not proud of any of this. “I dont like that I steal,” he says. “I would never hurt anyone. I just… .”
Rodriguez wraps the stubby fingers of his right hand around his coffee cup. He takes dainty sips through a bushy salt-and-pepper goatee. It is a frigid February morning, and the Starbucks door swings open with every cold gust of wind. The chill bothers most customers; they shiver and tug extra tightly at sweatshirts and jackets. But not Rodriguez. He is numb to the discomforts that disturb most of us. “To me,” he says, “they dont exist.”
Last fall, though, something happened that would haunt even Tony Rodriguez.
You can still see the burn marks.
Theyre not as obvious now as they were a few months back; certainly not as pronounced as in the early morning hours of Nov. 2, 2021, when flames exploded from a Toyota RAV4 and onto the surface of South Rainbow Boulevard, a few miles off the Strip. But if you look closely, youll spot the discolored indentation, the blending of blacks and grays and charcoals onto the otherwise smooth pavement.
Youll see where two lives forever changed.
When Henry Ruggs III, a 22-year-old wide receiver for the Raiders, allegedly drank too many mai tais and then raced his Corvette Stingray at an estimated 156 mph, his actions did not occur within a vacuum. In the passenger seat sat Kiara Kilgo-Washington, his longtime girlfriend and the mother of his one-year-old daughter. And on the road before them, driving within the speed limit, was 23-year-old Tina Tintor, with her golden retriever, Max, in the passenger seat.
Ruggs had been a first-round pick only a year earlier, a national champion at Alabama who used his athletic gifts to rise from a modest upbringing in Montgomery, Ala., to a $16 million contract.
Tintor, by contrast, lived with her brother and parents, first-generation Croatian immigrants, in a small white home five miles off the Strip. Before leaving to pursue a career in computer programming shed worked as a clerk at Target.
[![daily cover promo New 11 4 2021](https://www.si.com/.image/t_share/MTg1MDQ4ODg3Njc1ODU2NDk0/daily-cover-promo-new-11-4-2021.jpg)](https://www.si.com/tag/daily-cover)
In the early morning hours before Ruggs drove home drunk, Tintor was at a park with Max and a friend. She left to head home around 3:35, right around the time that Ruggs—whose blood was later measured at twice the legal alcohol limit—pressed hard on the accelerator. According to police, Ruggss Corvette was soaring down the middle of a three-lane street when it swerved into the far right lane. According to a statement from Kilgo-Washington, Ruggs looked up, saw the rear of Tintors slow-moving SUV and screamed, “What is this guy doing?!”
It was too late. Ruggs slammed on the brakes, but the front of his car collided with Tintors at 127 mph, the impact turning the Corvette into a crumpled tin can as it spun around and around for some 500 feet before coming to a rest near a stone wall. The Raiders receiver, not wearing a safety belt, was halfway ejected, his body left dangling from the vehicle.
Scroll to Continue
## SI Recommends
The RAV4, meanwhile, rocketed nearly 600 feet down the northbound lanes of Rainbow Boulevard before bursting into flames.
Tony Rodriguez has seen death before.
He wants to make this clear. Just so theres no confusion. “Im not new to it,” he says. “Wish I were. But Im not.”
Rodriguez grew up in a small home in East Los Angeles, one of five children raised by Erlinda Vega, a social worker and single mother. The family was poor, and Tony was always in and out of trouble—fights, skipping school, some gang activity. “He was a super hyper kid,” says one older sister, Francine Telles.
For a brief period, young Tony found salvation in sports. He played on the JV football team at Mark Keppel High and as a sophomore caught on as a backup catcher with the varsity baseball squad. The Aztecs had a star pitcher-shortstop named Keith Walters, and Tony thought that scouts coming to see Walters might notice him, too. But “that was probably unrealistic,” says Walters (who never played college sports and recently wrapped a lengthy military career). “Tony had a strong arm but horrible footwork. He was a raw hitter, completely fundamentally unsound. But, boy, he could hit the ball a long way.”
Ultimately, Rodriguez was kicked off the baseball team because of his grades and attendance, and as a junior he dropped out of school. He worked for a short period at Disneyland, but the L.A.-to-Anaheim commute ate up his time and gas money. That led him, at 18, to Metro First Call, a service used by morgues and mortuaries to retrieve dead bodies.
Rodriguez would get his assignments, fire up his Ford Aerostar and head off to collect the deceased. “Ill never forget my first one: Harold Miner, from Arkansas,” he says. “He was tall, maybe 6' 7". And his feet hung over the gurney.”
Every day Rodriguez looked death straight in the eye. From stillborns (“Id always put a sheet over them”) to seniors, he drove hundreds of hours alongside the lifeless, the hum of a car radio providing the lone connection to humanity. “Hed always wanna tell me all the things he saw,” says Francine. “I was always like, Tony, please. I dont need to hear about the dead bodies.’”
![Rodriguez dropped out before he finished at Mark Keppel High, in East L.A.](https://www.si.com/.image/t_share/MTg4Mzg3OTM0NTY5NzY4NDY3/img_2822.jpg)
Rodriguez dropped out before he finished at Mark Keppel High, in East L.A.
Courtesy of Jeff Pearlman
One day in the mid-1990s, a mortuary director asked Rodriguez to go fetch the body of someone who shared the same last name: Larry Rodriguez. “Your brother,” the director joked. *Haha.*
As tended to be the case, the director shared with Rodriguez a little background information: This person, a felony arsonist, had died by suicide while serving time at Solano State Prison, a good six hours up the coast.
“And it really freaked me out,” Rodriguez recalls, “because it actually *was* my brother.”
He says his boss at Metro First urged him not to take the assignment, but he felt the pull of family. Rodriguez drove the six hours to Solano County, stared at his lifeless sibling, shed some tears, then loaded the corpse into his vehicle and ferried it away.
“I wanted to bring Larry back home,” Rodriguez says, decades later. “It needed to be me. He was family.”
The burden of that job outweighed any financial benefits, and over the next two decades Rodriguez bounced from gig to gig and city to city—some more time in Los Angeles, several years running gas stations in St. Louis, and finally, 15 or so years ago, a permanent move to Vegas, near Francine. Tony liked the city and he spent a number of years rigging for stage shows around town. Ultimately, though, he found there was far better money to be made bouncing from casino to casino, peddling crystal meth. “Eight hours a day, all I did was sell drugs,” he says. “We would start at Mandalay Bay, drive all the way down the boulevard and stop at every casino, making deals.”
It was all going smoothly—as smoothly as possible, considering the circumstances—until Rodriguez started using meth himself. “Its the worst mistake Ive ever made,” he says. “Sometimes youd be up for, like, five days. And after three days you start seeing these shadows.”
The fall was quick. Rodriguez went from living in an apartment to living under bridges. From using occasionally to using habitually. Meth morphed into heroin—and heroin, for Tony, is the devil. “It f---s up everything,” he says. “I want to find the other side of life again. I want to be the person I should be. But its so damn hard.”
On the morning of Nov. 2, under a black Las Vegas sky, the air crisp and cool, Rodriguez and a friend named Johnny Ellis departed early from the rented garage that both men (and a handful of other recently homeless people) use for lodging. They were driving south on Rainbow Boulevard in Tonys rusted, unregistered white GMC truck, en route to gather metal, when they encountered two demolished cars. One was aflame.
Rodriguez says he parked his truck in the middle of the street, got out and heard a woman screaming. Kilgo-Washington was standing outside of Ruggss Corvette, pleading for help. As Rodriguez sprinted toward her, he says he saw a young-looking Black man in a black sweatshirt, his lower body still planted inside the car but his torso dangling on the road. “I was about to tell her not to move him, but it was too late—she grabbed him and pulled him fully out,” Rodriguez says. “I have no idea who he is. I dont care about football. Never heard of Henry Ruggs. But I didnt see no life in his body. I thought he was dead.”
Rodriguez and Ellis ran next for Tintors RAV4, which by then was engulfed in flames. All four windows were closed and the doors were locked. Ellis dashed back to the truck and returned with a hammer. He smashed in the passenger-side window, and when he found no one inside he flipped the tool to Rodriguez, who was kneeling by the driver.
Rodriguez hammered open the drivers window, reached in and gripped an arm. “Johnny!” he screamed, finding Tintor and her dog. “Theyre here! Theyre here!”
By now, smoke was oozing out of the SUVs front windows; it was nearly impossible to see or breathe near the car. Still, Rodriguez punctured a discharged airbag with the hammer and yelled “Come on!” to Tintor inside. “You have to help me! You *have* to!” He could hear breathing, but a seatbelt was wrapped tight around the drivers body. He yanked, tugged, pulled—to no avail. “I was trying to cut it out, trying to figure out a way,” he says. “Nothing was working. I started on the door, fighting to open it. To get this person out somehow.”
![Tintor, 23, was driving with her golden retriever, Max, in the passenger seat.](https://www.si.com/.image/t_share/MTg4MzkwMjY3MDA1NDQ1NjUx/gettyimages-1351400142.jpg)
Tintor, 23, was driving with her golden retriever, Max, in the passenger seat.
Ethan Miller/Getty Images
A security guard from a nearby residential complex tried to assist, then bailed when the smoke became too thick. Rodriguez remembers that someone else showed up with a small fire extinguisher, but with the car coated in flames it was useless. “One more guy came and tried to help, then jumped away,” Rodriguez remembers. “Then Johnny jumped away. And it was really me by myself. I dont know why God put me in that position. I couldnt do anything.”
The heat became insufferable. Rodriguez knew it was time to leave. But something kept him there. Dropping out of school. Picking up dead bodies. Living on heroin and meth. Stealing scrap metal. He is the father to four children, none of whom he raised. Life has been one screw-up after another. He hated himself. Hated what hed done.
But here was another human, needing him. Needing Tony Rodriguezs hands.
It felt like hours—the smoke and the heat, waiting for the emergency workers to arrive. In reality, it all lasted no more than 10 minutes. But now hope was gone. The car was barely visible. Rodriguez didnt know who was inside, only that they had to be dead.
“Tony!” Ellis yelled out. “Theres nothing we can do!”
As the two friends retreated to the truck, Rodriguez (whose recollections are backed by police reports and witness retellings) remembers staring down at his palms, coated with Tina Tintors blood. He opened his truck door, turned the key and drove up Rainbow Boulevard, “the orange of fire filling the rearview mirror,” he says. “You could hear the tires popping from the heat.”
A mile or so down the road, Rodriguez says he pulled into the parking lot of Spring Valley Hospital. “Johnny,” he said, “I have to get this blood off of me. And I have to pray.”
They entered the building and found a sink. Rodriguez can still picture the water turning red as it pooled in the drain. He can still hear his prayers echoing off the tile. Rodriguez is not a religious man. He cannot remember the last time he entered a church. But it all came out.
“Please, God, get me through this. Please, God…”
Back in Starbucks, Rodriguez is holding the warm cup in a cold room that he cant feel.
“Im gonna be honest,” he says. “God hasnt gotten me through it.”
Tina Tintor was buried as she lived. Quietly. Humbly. Her resting place in the rear of Palm Memorial Park is easy to miss. No stone has yet been placed, merely a white wooden cross with TINA TINTOR running horizontally in black and gold decals, bisecting the years of her birth (1998) and death (2021). A small ornament with Maxs picture on it dangles from a red ribbon. Miles away, outside her home, a small piece of paper with a picture of Tina, protected from the elements by plastic, reads: *Under the tremendous pain and saddens \[sic\] we announce passing of our beloved.*
When police finally arrived on the scene of that passing, Tintors car was a ball of fire, and Ruggs and his girlfriend were sitting on the sidewalk in a state of shocked disbelief. The Raiders receiver refused a field sobriety test, but later, at a hospital, blood was drawn and his BAC was found to be 0.16%. According to the police report, Ruggs was placed in trauma bed No.1, where investigators tried unsuccessfully to conduct an interview.
Less than 24 hours after the accident, the Raiders issued a one-sentence statement, cutting the receiver. That afternoon he was released from the hospital and booked at the Clark County Detention Center, where he was [charged with reckless driving and DUI resulting in death. (He was also hit with misdemeanor gun possession after police reported finding a loaded handgun in his wrecked vehicle.)](https://www.si.com/nfl/2021/11/06/henry-ruggs-faces-two-more-felony-charges-misdemeanor-in-deadly-crash) Ruggs was released the next day on $150,000 bail.
![Ruggs remains on house arrest pending a preliminary hearing on May 19.](https://www.si.com/.image/t_share/MTg4Mzg4MDg0MDg4OTA3Mjgz/gettyimages-1236322040.jpg)
Ruggs remains on house arrest pending a preliminary hearing on May 19.
Steve Marcus/Pool/Getty Images
When, in the shadow of the accident, Raiders quarterback [Derek Carr addressed the media about his teammate, he spoke of a broken heart. “He needs people to love him right now,” Carr said of Ruggs. “Hes probably feeling a certain way about himself right now. And he needs to be loved.”](https://www.si.com/nfl/2021/11/03/derek-carr-henry-ruggs-iii-text-dui-car-accident-raiders)
As you read this, Ruggs is a fly trapped in amber—a prisoner in a decadent home that once symbolized all of his success. He remains on house arrest pending a preliminary hearing on May 19. If he is found guilty on all charges, he faces upwards of 50 years in prison.
“Were human,” says Mac Hereford, who lined up at receiver alongside Ruggs at Alabama. “And people make horrible mistakes.”
“This whole thing has f---ed me up.”
Tony Rodriguez is still here, in Starbucks, but hes not entirely here. His eyes are glassy. Hes staring off into the distance. He assures me he has not yet taken his daily heroin hit today. “Later,” he says.
I watch him, curious whats running through the mind of a man who has seen too much. Then he snaps out of it.
“This whole experience, its done something to me,” he says. “Ive withdrawn from my girlfriend, from my friends. I thought I was going to be able to live with this. But … I dunno. Its something I need to deal with.”
To Rodriguez, this pain can feel misplaced. He lived. Tina Tintor died. “Im not the victim,” he says. “That poor woman is.” The garage that he calls home is near the accident site, and he passes it seven, eight, maybe 10 times per day. He set up a small vigil nearby with some flowers and candles, and one recent morning he woke beside it. “I fell asleep there,” he says, “just thinking about it all.”
Some of the candles disappeared recently. The flowers are dead. Rodriquez still visits. “I have to,” he says.
On the darkest of days, Rodriguez replays the entire tragedy. Did he do enough? Could he have saved Tintor? There was another tool in his truck, alongside the hammer—a pipe bar, used for digging. “I bet I could have jammed open the door with it,” he says. “Why didnt I?” Sitting in a coffee shop, he can still see the flames and feel the heat. He hears the tires popping. His hand is touching Tina Tintors arm. He is back there. Always back there.
![“This whole experience,” says Rodriguez, “its done something to me.”](https://www.si.com/.image/t_share/MTg4Mzg4MTI5NDUzOTA5MjEx/img_2781.jpg)
“This whole experience,” says Rodriguez, “its done something to me.”
Courtesy of Jeff Pearlman
“People have told me Im a hero,” he says. “Im not a hero. Im not even close to a hero. A hero saves that woman. I didnt.”
A pause.
“To be honest, I kind of wish Id crashed instead of her,” he says. “She had her whole life ahead of her. Everything waiting for her.
“What do I have?”
There is nothing to say. The cup of coffee is nearly empty. Tony Rodriguez is nearly empty, too. I ask if I can buy him another drink, and he tells me Brittany loves caramel. I purchase a large iced beverage, pass it toward him.
“Thanks, man,” he says. “Its kind of you.”
We shake hands and rise to leave. Rodriguezs truck—“too many miles to count”—sits in the parking lot, a sore thumb amidst all the Vegas vanity. Tony will deliver the drink to his girlfriend. Then they will shoot their heroin.
“You asked me about the drugs,” Rodriguez says before opening the door to his truck. “You asked me why I do em. Heroin, it makes me forget about things. About all the things Ive seen.”
He pauses.
“The problem,” he says about what he witnessed four months ago on Rainbow Boulevard, “is its always there. No matter what I do, it always comes back.”
**[Read more of SIs Daily Cover stories here](https://www.si.com/tag/daily-cover):**
**• [Their Countries Are on Opposite Sides of a War, but They Stand United](https://www.si.com/college/2022/03/16/university-of-san-francisco-basketball-ukraine-belarus-daily-cover)
****•** [**Inside Tito Ortizs Tumultuous Term Governing His Hometown**](https://www.si.com/mma/2022/03/04/tito-ortiz-huntington-beach-daily-cover)
**•** [**I Am Lia: The Trans Swimmer Dividing America Tells Her Story**](https://www.si.com/college/2022/03/03/lia-thomas-penn-swimmer-transgender-woman-daily-cover)\_
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&emsp;
---
`$= dv.el('center', 'Source: ' + dv.current().Link + ', ' + dv.current().Date.toLocaleString("fr-FR"))`

@ -85,3 +85,7 @@
2022/03/27 Restaurants 2022/03/27 Restaurants
expenses:Restaurant:CHF CHF101.00 expenses:Restaurant:CHF CHF101.00
assets:Cash:CHF assets:Cash:CHF
2022/04/03 Papa a ZH
expenses:Curren expenses:CHF CHF311.55
assets:Cash:CHF
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