DAM. LEGENDS.

Because Mexico has never educated its people about environmental protection, piles of garbage can often be found in cities, towns, and—quite sadly— forests. The most common method of getting rid of garbage is to throw it over the edge of a cliff, and that tends to affect the water supply in the following way: Dams are constructed in valleys to trap water running down the aforementioned cliffs, and it is this water that eventually comes out of the taps in your house. So if you throw trash over a cliff, it pollutes everyone else's water. Like so:

(Translation of above sign: “CAUTION: Throwing trash in this place contaminates the water that we use in our houses. Use the trash receptacles. Avoid being sanctioned.” Below is a dam, and the water it collects.)

After that cheery note, here are more pictures of the city. Please note that everything that looks like a private walkway really functions as a public street. The last picture—the one of the crazy-ass house, known as "The House of the Witches"—is my school. Be sure to read the legend of the building, which I’ll include below.

So the above is where I live and go to school (for now—but more on that later). The house was owned around 1903 by this German guy who turned out to be crazy. When he was sent to an asylum, his two sisters and lovely teenage daughter were left to live there alone. The daughter liked to go around town and be social, and her aunts didn’t like that—so they locked her in the basement. The aunts happened to be crazy too, and forgot to, you know, give her food and water. So she died. Eventually her body was discovered and the aunts were sent away. The house remained unoccupied for a long time until a businessman bought it and moved there with his eight children—all boys. Once the older boys were fighting, and one pulled out a pistol and shot two of his brothers, killing them both.

In case you weren't keeping track, that ups the death toll to three.

The locals say that when there is a quarter moon you can see a pretty young girl sitting in the upstairs window, beckoning to men to come inside. Apparently if you do, you’ll have some wine and such and then wake up trapped in a coffin, where you’ll eventually die.

Again, this is where I live. This is where I come back to every night after dark. I am the only person staying here right now.

And shit—what the hell was that noise?