Sunday, October 30
Where is El Centro?
El Centro means "The Center." El Centro, California, however, is not the center of anything. It's about as peripheral as you can get and still be in California. It's about 100 miles east of San Diego, 100 miles south of Palm Springs, 60 miles west of Yuma, Arizona, and 10 miles north of Calexico/Mexicali and the US-Mexican border. In other words, it's about 2 hours away from lots of interesting things, but it's really nowhere at all.
But it's a fascinating place all the same. It's in the middle of one of the hottest deserts in the world (average temperature in the summer is well over 110 degrees), yet it's one of the most fertile agriculture areas in the United States (its output reaching into the billions annually). It's a town virtually without anything memorable to its name, yet it is directly along Interstate 8, meaning that it's central to truckers and travellers alike. It is an area where there are more Chinese restaurants than Mexican ones, despite its proximity to Mexico. It's an area where every single employee at stores is required to know English and Spanish. It's an area where local shops cater more to tourists coming over the border from Mexicali than to locals. It's a region devoid of the smog often associated with Southern California, yet it is nevertheless as polluted as any other part of California (for reasons I will explain in future posts). It is the home of the New River, a canal so polluted by human and industrial waste that it actually produces billowing foam from time to time and to swim in it is to invite parasites and even death. It is the home of a brand new mall in the middle of fields of hay and alfalfa. It is the home of thousands of new houses, built because land here is much cheaper and much more plentiful than other parts of California. It is also the home of violent winds, freezing cold winter nights, blisteringly hot summers, and the occasional summer monsoon.
And it is my home--at least for now.
In the coming weeks and months, I'm going to be offering my impressions of this area, from its people to its odd weather patterns to its Simpson-like corruption, scandals, and tragedies to its few notable (though weird) landmarks.
To get started, here are a few hints of topics I'll cover in the future:
Two things make this area well known. First, there's the Salton Sea, which is unbelievably polluted for lots of reasons I'll get to in future posts. It was created by accident, when the canals carrying water from the Colorado River into the Imperial Valley (where El Centro is located) broke and spilled millions of gallons of water into a below-sea-level reservoir. The Salton Sea is on the brink of extinction now, however, due to environmental and natural causes; there are plans to save it, but it'll take billions of dollars and might do more harm than good.
The second thing that makes the Imperial Valley famous is Glamis and the sand dunes, the destination for thousands of off-road enthusiasts each winter. My theory about Southern California and tourism goes like this: hairdressers spend their holidays in Las Vegas; construction workers spend their holidays in Glamis. That's a generalization, but you'd be surprised how often it is true. Those ATV folk just love to pack up their dune buggies and other crap and drive all over those dunes (thus ruining them, of course).
I'll say more about these and other matters in the future. Trust me, this is an area almost unknown in California and around the world--and there's a lot to know (most of it rather odd and frightening). I hope you find it entertaining.
But it's a fascinating place all the same. It's in the middle of one of the hottest deserts in the world (average temperature in the summer is well over 110 degrees), yet it's one of the most fertile agriculture areas in the United States (its output reaching into the billions annually). It's a town virtually without anything memorable to its name, yet it is directly along Interstate 8, meaning that it's central to truckers and travellers alike. It is an area where there are more Chinese restaurants than Mexican ones, despite its proximity to Mexico. It's an area where every single employee at stores is required to know English and Spanish. It's an area where local shops cater more to tourists coming over the border from Mexicali than to locals. It's a region devoid of the smog often associated with Southern California, yet it is nevertheless as polluted as any other part of California (for reasons I will explain in future posts). It is the home of the New River, a canal so polluted by human and industrial waste that it actually produces billowing foam from time to time and to swim in it is to invite parasites and even death. It is the home of a brand new mall in the middle of fields of hay and alfalfa. It is the home of thousands of new houses, built because land here is much cheaper and much more plentiful than other parts of California. It is also the home of violent winds, freezing cold winter nights, blisteringly hot summers, and the occasional summer monsoon.
And it is my home--at least for now.
In the coming weeks and months, I'm going to be offering my impressions of this area, from its people to its odd weather patterns to its Simpson-like corruption, scandals, and tragedies to its few notable (though weird) landmarks.
To get started, here are a few hints of topics I'll cover in the future:
Two things make this area well known. First, there's the Salton Sea, which is unbelievably polluted for lots of reasons I'll get to in future posts. It was created by accident, when the canals carrying water from the Colorado River into the Imperial Valley (where El Centro is located) broke and spilled millions of gallons of water into a below-sea-level reservoir. The Salton Sea is on the brink of extinction now, however, due to environmental and natural causes; there are plans to save it, but it'll take billions of dollars and might do more harm than good.
The second thing that makes the Imperial Valley famous is Glamis and the sand dunes, the destination for thousands of off-road enthusiasts each winter. My theory about Southern California and tourism goes like this: hairdressers spend their holidays in Las Vegas; construction workers spend their holidays in Glamis. That's a generalization, but you'd be surprised how often it is true. Those ATV folk just love to pack up their dune buggies and other crap and drive all over those dunes (thus ruining them, of course).
I'll say more about these and other matters in the future. Trust me, this is an area almost unknown in California and around the world--and there's a lot to know (most of it rather odd and frightening). I hope you find it entertaining.
