EPISODE with JASON "SWINGO" JONAS
October, 2009
Near SAN JUAN CHAMULA, MEXICO
It is evening, and Jason Jonas and his three colleagues sit at a table against a wall in a makeshift cafe, a two-car garage with a patio converted into an entertainment space with tables and chairs. A woman does the preparation in the open kitchen a half-level above it. Young women who appear to be her daughters serve.
On the Americans' table are the remains of a classic Mexican layout. The ominous-looking man with coal-black hair and beard swishes a bit of burrito through the last of some guacamole, pops it into his chops, sits back, and chases it with a sip of tequila. The glass looks tiny against his furry forearm.
"That's pretty good," says the big blond man beside him. "What I want to know is, who are those two guys making guac?"
The dark man and the light share a laugh together. Jason Jonas looks weary. "You guys are very easily amused, you know," he says.