Hasta la Vista, Nancy and Steve

Nancy, my friend and upstairs neighbour: even though her eyes are closed, her beautiful smile shines through. Nancy was the person who brought me to Casa Dharma, and it has been a complete joy having her and Stephen for neighbours. They are heading home to New York on Friday morning, and I will miss them.

Tonight we had a going away dinner, and we were silly and put on funny hats. Patricia and Shayne have an entire collection, so there was lots to choose from. In the group picture, left to right are, Shayne, Stephen, Patricia, myself, and Nanacy.

The meal was muy muy muy delicioso. Shayne made a beautiful salad and an enchelada verde cassarole with chicken, and some wonderful iced tea and juice mixed together. I couldn't stop eating or drinking any of it. I had brought a flan from the bakery just past the Instituto, and it was probably the best flan I've ever had- creamy and rich and not too sweet. I eventually had to take myself downstairs to keep from appearing to be a complete little piggie.

Jamie's blog for photos

To see more pictures of Sana Miguel and other parts of Mexico, check out mexican botany.blogspot.com. There are beautiful photos of Jamie's travels in Oaxaca and at the beach. I'm trying to add a link to her blog, but not sure how successful I am. It's pretty complicated, involving things like code. They don't have just simple button that says "add link". Noooo...that would be far too easy. Anyways, enjoy. She takes great pictures.

Jacarandas

Here are those pictures of the Jacaranda trees in bloom. These photos don't really do them justice; I'll try to get some better ones up. There are even more trees in bloom now than when I took these a few days ago.

Movies at the Jacaranda

I just tried to upload some pictures of the Jacaranda trees, which are in blossom now all over the city, but Blogger won't do it for me. I'll try again another time. So instead, I'll tell you about my evening at the Jacaranda Hotel.

Tonight I went to see a movie at The Jacaranda, which is a hotel nearby. From here, you walk down to the beginning of the Privada, turn right onto Aguacates, then left at the Chorro, where the women, and sometimes men, do their laundry in the public tubs in the little, shady park. Turn right at the top of the Parque Benito Jaurez, and follow the street along the edge of the park. Tonight there was a folk dance group, dancing happily on a stage where the basketball courts are, dancing, of all things, to that great Mexican folk tune, Turkey in the Straw.

Go past Sollano, turn right onto Aldama, and the Jacaranda is just a half block up on the left hand side.

I met my friend Jean there, in the upstairs ball room. They show movies here most nights, on a projector screen T.V. It costs 70 pesos, and that includes your first drink, and popcorn. No cartoons though.

It's a large, long room, with a huge crystal chandelier, which I refuse to sit under, because I'm just not sure how securely it's attached to the ceiling. From what I have seen, I do not believe Mexico has much going in the way of building codes.

Nicholas Cage: The Weatherman. Good movie about fatherhood: NC ( the weatherman if of the title)'s relationship with his father, and with his kids. Very well done. NC is so good at those underdog, loser guys who somehow get it all together in the end. I like happy endings.

Walking home, back along the edge of the park, with the sounds of basketball, and the clip- clip-clip of a couple of horses of the mounted police. (They dress in old-fashioned blue uniforms, and are extremely handsome. There are about six or eight of them that patrol the city all day. They sometimes water their horses at the public laundry. You have to watch out for the piles, but I love the smell of horse poop. In moderation, of course.)

I stopped to pat Lucio, the golden retriever who lives down the street, on the head. He always waits patiently at his gate and is grateful for all kind attentions.

Allie and Vato were here to greet me when I passed through our gate. My room-mate Mark is going to the States for a couple of weeks or so, and I'm going to look after his dog, Max, until Sunday, when Mark's girlfriend will take him for the duration. Max is a cute little West Highland Terrior. I'll try to get a photo for you.

The evenings are warm. I had taken a light shawl, but I found I didn't need it. I hear the frogs chirping and singing, and all else is quiet, but for the hum of my laptop fan.

Good night, gentle readers, buenas noches.

Dias en Mexico

It's another beautiful day in San Miguel. Today is a national holiday, celebrating the birth of Benito Jaurez, the first “real” president Mexico. I think that means he was the first president after the revolution in the 1900's, and he is a national hero, but I'm not sure exactly why. I can hear the military band playing in the park (Parque Benito Jaurez) below the casa.

This morning, I woke up at my usual time, around 8:30. I was a bit grumpy, so I took myself up to the roof and did some yoga, and wrote my morning pages. I finished the notebook I began just before leaving Nanaimo; tomorrow morning I start a new one. Inevitably I feel happier and more positive after yoga, meditation and writing.

Patricia, who owns this casa, and her boygfriend Shayne, have gone away for a few days, and to save Leon, the gardener, the trouble of coming all the way into town, on the holdiay, just for this, I offered to feed the animals and give Vato his medication.

I then had a nice brunchy breakfast: coffee, toasted ham and cheese sandwich on sunflower bread, and a banana., followed by playing with the dogs for a bit. Allie has this baseball, which she has chewed to the perfect state of play: she has loosened a flap of leather, and this makes a great handle for shaking and such. It is much harder to get the ball from her to throw it, so it is mostly tug of war. It's sweet to see when Vato gets into the act, as he is so ancient, but he still loves to play. Vato is a bit of a flirt, too. He is somewhat lame, and limps around, but always with a happy expression on his face and a great interest in life, especially at meal times!

I've been thinking of having a shower, but I'm not committed yet.

Yesterday I went to the Mexican market, just down the hill from the Plaza Civica (the one with the huge statue of General Allende on horseback). This is an indoor market, with fruit and vegetable, flowers, and meat counters, and some clothing and accessories as well as food booths. I bought some groceries for the week, including: a pinapple, a jicama, some carrots, tomatoes, radishes, new potatoes, and a shopping bag to carry everything home in. I stopped in at the Buena Vida Bakery for bread, and then carried on down to the deli, for cheese and ham. I also got a few slices of bacon-yum!. Some mustard, mayo and bananas completed my shopping. I took a cab home, because my load was heavy. It is 20 pesos to take a cab anywhere in the city. And there are cabs, green and white, everywhere.

When I got home, I disinfected the produce, and made a funny potato salad, with bacon, sauteed red onion, radishes and jicama. With boiled eggs, it's a bit breakfasty, but as Raquel, our maid, said, “muy rico”. Very rich. Cultural differences are relative. I would not consider this dish rich by Canadian standards Sadly, the Pina was overripe, and I couldn't eat it.

In the evenings I often get together with a friend and hang out for a bit, but late I mostly end up in front of the computer, blog surfing, or in bed reading a good mystery story. Sometimes go out for a bite to eat, or sit in the Jardin and watch the action and talk with friends.

Most days I try to write a bit, and I usually go out to do this. And I'm learning some Spanish from a great book called Madrigal's Magic Key to Spanish by Margarita Madrigal. This is a great book for learning the language, as she makes it really easy, and you can learn a lot in a very short period of time.

This is how the days pass. I'm trying not to schedule anything too demanding this week. Nancy upstairs asked me if I wanted to go to the Tuesday market this morning, but it's just too exhausting, to be out in the heat and the noise and the bustle. There are many, many distractions in this city, so I am trying to keep my time for the important things.

I am happy that I am here. It is a huge gift to be able to have a complete break from working. It's deeply restful. But I have brought myself with me, and so, many of my activities are similar to what they would be at home. There is simply a lot more ease.

This is how my days pass, in general. I've been posting mostly pictures for a while, and now here are some words. I'm here in San Miguel for another month and a half or so, maybe a bit longer, but plan to start heading North around the beginning of May. There are a couple things happening in Austin in mid-May ( a writing workshop and Charles' friend's church's men's group's brisket bar-be-cue), and then, back to the Island, briefly, before heading out to Ontario for the summer.

Beyond that is still a mystery. Stay tuned!

Spring Parade

Balloon arches


Snow White



Ladybugs!


Lions and Tigers and Bluebirds


Butterfly friends



Hawwaiins

Each year, on the Friday before March 20, all the children in the area participate in the annual Spring Parade. There are about three of four hundred children, all dressed in costumes of animals, insects, flowers, Hawaiian, cowboys, ranch animals, and story book characters. The entire Mexican community lines the streets around the Jardin, and all the Americans in town show up too. It's a big production, and the kids all look so cute! I don't think they enjoyed it as much as we spectators did.

Roadwork on Recreo

About a week ago, a crew of about 10 labourers showed up and started digging up Recreo. All work is done by hand with picks, shovels and strong backs. I can't take pictures of the workers, because they would take that as an invitation, and this is my main route into town. Even when being completely ignored, usually at least one of them will address me disrespectfully, with a suggestive Hola, or worse, Hi. "American" women are generally thought to be loose. So I waited until Sunday to take my photos. I'm not sure what is the function of the channel they have built down the middle of the road is, whether for drainage or support. If you look in the shade at the top of the picture, you will see the narrow sidewalk. There is an entire protocol for meeting and passing others on the sidewalk, that involves gender, class, age, and groupings such as families or friends.

Looking down Recreo towards home. The sidewalk on this side is a bit wider, but not much. Recreo is a one way street, heading home, so it's not as busy as some of the other steets. The detour around this construction, if you're driving, is a lot of fun; I call it the roller coaster.

Al Campo

Yesterday Dee and I took a bus to a gallery opening in Cienaguita, about six kilometers outside of San Miguel. We caught the bus at the bottom of Canal Street, and it was a good thing we were early because we got a seat. A hard, narrow seat, but a seat all the same. While waiting to depart, we had three different salesmen trying to sell us their wares. Talk about taking advantage of a captive audience. Dee bought a small jar of menthol balm, for her mild headache, for twenty pesos. We declined the ice cream and the other guy, who we had no idea what he was selling. Finally we departed, and headed out into the Campo, the country.

We were on a local bus, and it was full of middle school kids in uniform, going home, and mainly women and children who live in the Campo. We left the main road, and headed off on the dirt track that runs through the country. It is very dusty and dry. These are people who have very little. We passed small brick homes and compounds with dirt yards, and the occaisional wealthier home with gardens and cars out front.

We were a bit anxious, because we weren't exactly sure where to get off. We had directions to get off at the church in Cienaguita, and walk up behind it, but we weren't sure where the chuch was, and we couldn't see out the windows to see what was ahead. We asked the driver where the church was, and he said it was a little ways ahead. Unfortunately we couldn't see, so we missed the stop, and carried on with the driver to the end of the line, which is where we took these pictures. After a ten minute break, we drove back into town, and the driver let us off at the church. Total travel time: seventy-five dry, dusty, gritty minutes.

The gallery was fun and interesting, and we got a ride home with some people we met there. Travel time home by car: fifteen comfortable, air-conditioned minutes.

How to Change a Tire in Mexico

Tonight I got together with some friends to hear a Mexican man we know tell the story of his life, so far. It was an inspirational tale, from family poverty through alcoholism, addiction and jail, and his journey of overcoming all this to become a happy and productive person. Afterward, a few of us were hanging out at the coffee shop across the street, when one of us discovered her Suburban had an extremely flat tire.

“What should we do?”
“I can change that tire in five minutes.”

Six of us wandered up the street to help and offer support.

After about fifteen minutes, a couple of us went and got another car for more light, as the flat was on a fairly dark stretch of the road.

After another half an hour, someone had the brilliant idea to call roadside assisstance. They said they were sending someone out and he'd be here in fifty minutes to an hour. We decided to go get a bite to eat, and meet the mechanic back at the car.

All six of us piled into the light-providing VW beetle, and off we puttered to a Brazillian taco place, and had a mess of fabuloso food, then piled back into the beetle and back to the flat tire.

Soon, (after another phone call) the mechanic arrived, and went to work. He showed one of the guys the trick to getting to spare tire out, and the party started to break up. Three of us stayed to the end. The tire was changed, and off we finally scooted home.

Total time elapsed to change a tire: Four hours, including dinner.

View from the Instituto

The Intituto is the Art Institute, started by Stirling Dickinson, back in the 1930's as an art school for veterans. This is a view of the parrochia and the Church of San Fransico, modified with the special effects on the Kodak software that came with my camera.

A Perfect Day

Today was a wonderful day. For the first time since leaving Nanaimo, I feel like myself again.

I took off up to the rooftop first thing in the morning, with laptop, yoga DVD and mat, journal and pen. I had 20 minutes of yoga with Rodney Yee, and spent extra time in meditation. I wrote out my worries and plans for the day in my morning pages, and then, centred and grounded, headed back downstairs to get ready to go to La Grutta, The Grotto, with Dee. We met in the Jardin, where the Aztek dancers and drummers were so loud and colourful and powerful. It made me want to cry, I was overwhelmed by their beauty, and stamina.

The sound of drums followed us down the narrow, cobbled street to the bottom of the hill where we caught a bus (seven pesos) and rode the five miles out of San Miguel with the campesinos- radio blaring, no air-conditioning- in the direction of Dolores Hidalgo, and the driver let us off at the hot springs. It cost seventy peos to get in, and a fifty peso refundable deposit for a locker.

Then, heaven.

We settled in to a table on the lawn. There were hardly any other people there. After resting a bit we slipped onto the first pool- hot mineral water, in the bright sun. Felt like amniotic fluid. You can swim down a dark, narrow tunnel, into a large cave, the grotto, where a powerful stream of hot water pours down and pounds out anything you need pounded out. When you are done, you swim back down the tunnel and out into the sunshine, reborn. Then you can rest, lying on your lounge chairs and watch the birds bathing in a puddle, and drying their wings so gracefully in the sun.

It was a completely rejuvenating and healing day.

Festival of Frey Miguel

All day and into the night these Aztek ritual dancers dance and pray. The drums beat long and loud, all around the Jardin, for 4 days and nights, but you can hear the drums everywhere in the city. The dancers pray as they perform, in colourful costumes with rattles on their ankles, dancing around a central altar on the cobbled streets, of flowers, ritual objects, and a model of Jesus on the cross. The drums are very powerful, especially when you are right in the Jardin. The dancers train from when they are children. This is one of the many festivals that lead up to Semana Santa, Holy Week. It celebrates Brother Miguel, the Franciscan monk who established the first Christian settlement among the Indian people here.

The Parrochia

The Parroquia is the parish chuch; it is not a cathedral. It sits to the west of the Jardin, the central square where people meet and hang out. It is currently being restored by the local government. During the civil war in the early 1900's, all the property that was owned by the (by then) wealthy and corrupt church was confiscated by the government. Now the Mexican government is restoring many ot these old churches, mainly due to their appeal to tourists. Right now we are gearing up for Easter, Semana Santa, which is THE biggest religious or civic celebration of the year. Every night there is something going on. Kids were out of school on Monday and Tuesday, and at night the Jardin was full of them, all running around cracking confetti-filled eggs over each others heads. Much excitement and fun. Last night the church yards were full of people, out for Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent.


The style of the Parrochia is Victorian Gothic, which makes Architecture lovers want to throw up, but the rest of us find it impressive and astonishing. The architect was a local man, who got his design ideas from postcards of European churches. It was built the old-fashioned way: each day the architect would draw a picture in the sand of what he wanted built, and the craftsmen would build what he drew.