When I visited Mexico recently, it was always good to fall back to the old activities that we enjoyed as kids. Fishing and hiking, or just swimming in the never ending rivers the small towns were known for. This particular day we were hunting for any game animal that we could encounter, and well, many people were accustomed to tag along with the recently arrived in the towns, since everybody knew everybody there, they always wanted to know who the new guy is. It was a long hike up in huge hills and empty trenches that used to get water only in the rainy days when August came around. The sun was scorching, usually 100 degrees and up in Guerrero a known hot part of Mexico. My brother always used to stop in these known water deposits that rain happens to leave behind after it's at its mere end, so he told me a tale on the way up a canal, which delivers water to all the farmings that were along its trail. He said that this one time he and his usual hunting friends were drinking water from this canal, and that they couldn't quite stomach the water, due to its unusual taste, he said that he had a suspicion of a dead animal rotting flesh, or something of that sort. Sure enough he said just a few yards up the canal, a floating decomposing body of a man in his 40's was just left there, he had a rope still tied to his neck, and a single gun shot to his forehead. After a minute of silence and few more yards ahead he then said "That's why we depend on these water deposits or water bottles, that way we know what's in our water." After a while of picturing a dead body on that canal I wondered who it was? or why that abrupt violent way of dying? Up to this day I still think about that hike and that long stretched canal.