Friday, April 8, 2011

The Story that Changed Commerce (Part II)

To read the first portion of this story, click here.

So where was I? Oh yes, the story of the dead guys hit the press.

Mazatlan isn’t necessarily any more dangerous than it was before, but because people heard the rumors, the bubbling arguments, and the debates, lots decided to vacation elsewhere, because on the surface, it appears that the city of Mazatlan isn't safe. (FYI, I'm not saying it is safe either, just that I didn't feel any more nervous than I would in New York or LA or Dallas or...oh yes, Houston, where we accidentally spent a night.)

Many of the people we met have been visiting Mazatlan for years, and either own time shares or private condos (which they rent out to people like me and my friends). Or they have favorite hotels. Whatever.

Point is, these people know the area and the culture well. They have friends, they feel a kinship with the locals, and they understand that members of a drug cartel or criminals of other types are not what defines the area or the people living there. They KNOW better. They understand that terrible things happen all over the world, and that's unavoidable. But my friends and I were told time and time again (by fellow Americans) that the place we were visiting was safe, and beautiful, and as good as it has always been. The only thing that has really changed is how the public sees it.

Why am I telling you this? I think sometimes we, as humans, see something on the surface and allow that vision to change our view, even when we know deep down that there's way more to it than what meets the eye.

This experience made me ask myself if I am the kind of person who will allow others to define my thoughts, or if I will make my own judgments based on what I know. It made me wonder if I am quick to conjecture, or if I am capable of taking a moment to find the information I need to make an informed choice.

I can't say I'm one way or another, because I don't believe there's anything in the world that's ever black and white. Rather, there are at least a thousand different shades of gray in between. I don't know the answer. But after spending a week there, if given another opportunity, I'd go back to Mazatlan in a heartbeat.

But you know. That’s just me. What do you think?

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