Archive | Uncategorized RSS feed for this section

A Story Too Good Not To Tell Acapulco Part 7

17 Mar

Our beach vacation to Acapulco in 1973 was a step into a very different world from today. Heck, it was a different world from the rest of Mexico in 1973. The family we stumbled upon was operating a kitchen to feed a group of men who slept by day and fished by night. Maria, the chief cook was unfazed by a few more mouths to feed, hospitality at its best.

Our days began with breakfast which included fish in all its variations. The men were fishing in small boats by gas lantern and our meal had been caught the night before.

The child to the left retrieved water from God knows where with buckets balanced on poles across her shoulders.

The tortillas that were part of every meal were hand formed and cooked on a flat iron griddle called a comal. The comal was balanced on bricks over a hot wood fire. Maria delivered the tortillas to the table and we could barely retrieve them from the traditional woven basket in the center. Her hands were smooth leather and the piping hot corn disks tasted like no tortillas I had ever eaten then or since.

Staying in such a remote location we had to question where everything we consumed came from. There was no quick trip down the street to a little tortillaría or person who showed up on a scooter to deliver a kilo or two. Today, every restaurant in Bacalar has a delivery scooter on speed dial.

Tortillas are still a staple of Mexican diet.

One day a man showed up in camp leading a donkey with two burlap bags of corn cobs slung over its back. Maria and grandma shucked the corn and put the kernels to soak in a tub of water with lime powder. The process is called nixtamalization and causes the kernels to break down. Most tortillas in Mexico today are made from highly processed corn flour and taste like cardboard. The softened corn is then fed into a hand grinder and made into masa and the best tortillas in the world.

Non-GMO corn is quite tough.
The stock photo setup that is far more sophisticated than Maria had.

Few Mexicans today have ever tasted real tortillas. You can buy masa to press and grill your own, but the dough is made from highly processed corn flour.

A simple tortilla press can be found in most homes. Today you can buy ones that press and cook the tortillas right at the table, similar to a waffle iron.

The family we stayed with worked hard. But after the stunning Pacific sunset, a gas lantern provided the only light, and intense games of dominos ensued. One of my companions brought his guitar which was a big hit. Thinking back, all I can say is, “what an experience “.

DOS TORTAS

Amen.

Tags: , , ,

The 1973 Acapulco Adventure Part 6

10 Mar

Having made our sketchy drug purchase upon immediate arrival to Acapulco, the boys and I were quickly off to our next adventure destination. My memory gets a bit faulty, but as I remember we followed the highway out of town and made inquiries along the way as to the illusive Roberto. Finally when a group of vendors all pointed in the same direction when we asked, “dónde vive Roberto?” we turned off the highway onto a sandy trail toward the ocean.

Highway market.

The narrow beach road proved to be a nightmare. We managed to damage the underside of the van crossing a dip or possibly a dry creek bed. The van limped along, but it was clear that we weren’t going anywhere for awhile, certainly not back to Cholula to start classes. Oh shit.

Parking the VW van in the shade until parts for repair could be brought from Acapulco.

We pulled/pushed into a clearing with the pacific not fifty meters (160 feet) away. The family who lived here looked at us as if we had dropped in from another planet. It took us days to figure out that the two room, dirt floor house and assorted shelters we had found were actually a fishing base camp. And btw, Roberto who lived further down the ‘road’ was out of town.

The language barrier was monumental, far beyond my one year of high school Spanish. The other worldly environment that we stumbled into took us days to make sense of. Our brains exploded with each piece of the puzzle we assembled. The bottom line was that a young couple with their three children and grandma lived in a two room mud and stick house with pounded dirt floor. The woman cooked meals for a group of men who slept on the ground during the heat of the day and fished by night. I watched intently the daily routine which did not include electricity or running water.

The kitchen entrance and three children.

We added interest to their lives, and they in turn went out of their way to entertain us. I have to break the story down because there were so many layers which included:

*Eating turtle eggs (it took me years to figure out what we had eaten). *Horseback riding *turning ears of corn into tortillas *cheese making *drying coconuts, going for a bath, and cold rum and coke.

I did not know that we were being offered turtle eggs. This was 1973.

I could not swim as the undertow was so strong and the pot was not very good so there was no getting stoned and yet somehow the days flew by. We slept on woven-mat cots which I now suspect belonged to the family. They gave us their beds! To be continued…

DOS TORTAS

Tags: , , ,

While In Acapulco Let’s Buy Some Pot (5)

1 Mar

To catch up with this story, you might want to read parts 1-4.

When the van pulled into a parking lot with the beach and Pacific Ocean in front of us, we naturally exited to gaze at the water and stretch our legs after a long drive. My companions walked off and returned with a random guy they encountered who offered to help them buy marijuana. It’s amazing what you can communicate with almost no Spanish skills. I’ve watched enough cop shows to know how the woman gets mindlessly swept along when a crime is committed. It’s so easy to judge but that probably would have been me in 1973.

Stock photo Acapulco.

Following Random Guy’s directions we climbed back into the van and drove into the hills above Acapulco. The only thing there were shacks and poverty, no high rise hotels or ocean view.

No electricity, water or sewage. Acapulco’s dirty secret.

The first attempt to buy drugs was unsuccessful and we headed back out and up the highway we had originally arrived on. The road was lined with jungle and nothing else, or so it seemed. Random guy directed us to make a U-turn and park on the side of the highway. This time I was not staying behind, no way. Underneath the foliage was a path, invisible to passers by, including us.

We walked single file along the trail to a field and grass hut. Our “friend”translated and the three guys went inside the shack to dicker on a price for our purchase. I sat on a rickety bench and looked around and waited. I noticed at my feet what looked like small marijuana plants. OMG, reality set in. The field around us was ready to be planted and home to quite a large growing operation.

The guys reappeared having struck a deal to purchase a kilo of pot. They seemed pleased with themselves and eager to be out of there. We did not find out until later that the growers pulled a switcheroo as old as time. As soon as the two took their eyes off the prize, the sellers substituted the agreed upon purchase for a far inferior grass, mostly sticks and seeds. But in a hurry to be on our way, we didn’t discover it until many miles down the road.

We continued on our way towards our final destination, dropping our guide off on the side of the road. What I didn’t know at the time was that the upcoming week would be one of the most amazing and memorable of my life. Without AirBnB or GPS or anything more than my high school Spanish, we found people who welcomed us with open arms and fed three strangers who arrived out of nowhere on their “doorstep” for a week. I even have photos to prove it!

The VW van parked with Jerry playing guitar in its doorway.

DOS TORTAS

Tags: , ,

Road Trip To Acapulco (4) 1973

23 Feb

After three weeks of studying Mexican culture at the University in Cholula, Mexico, two students and myself were ready to do some exploring on our own. The guys, one from California and the other from Connecticut had a VW van. In those days, Acapulco was the Cancun of today, made famous by movie stars and visited by the Prince of Wales. While drinking in a local bar and looking for a cheap destination, one of my companions was told to take the highway through Acapulco, turn left and travel to a roadside fruit stand and ask for Roberto.

Can you imagine heading out on a eight hour road trip with such flimsy directions? Well, without GPS or even a map, we did just that, and the funny thing is we found him! But I am getting ahead of myself.

The trip from Cholula to Acapulco today.

The van had been modified, with the passenger seats removed and a “bed” built in the back. We stored a case of beer underneath the bed and carried very little else. I remember being stretched out on the mattress passing the time when the van suddenly lurched to the side of the road. Unthinking and half asleep, I slid open the side door to see what was the issue, only to find a rifle pointed at my face. Guys in fatigues searched the vehicle and let us go. We either didn’t have what they were looking for or weren’t worth the effort. I don’t recall being particularly shaken by the experience. Such is youth and privilege. Today we might not have been so lucky.

This was the part of Acapulco that the tourists didn’t see. There was no electricity or running water.

After many hours of driving, we crested a hill and the ocean filled the horizon in front of us. I had never seen the Pacific before and was quite in awe of the lovely sight of crystal blue water. It was quite a contrast to the poverty we later found further north.

Women getting water from a pipe jutting out of the hillside.

My companions were hell bent on buying some marijuana to take with us on our vacation. I was not much of a pot smoker but mostly along for the ride so what the heck. Our search took us from a parking lot along the ocean to the slums overlooking Acapulco, and later to a field with tiny cannabis plants growing around my feet.

None of us had ever seen such poverty. The guys left me to watch the van while they tried to score some dope.

To find out how we got ripped off and eventually found our way to Roberto, check back next week for the continuing saga. I couldn’t have made this up, believe me.

While waiting in the van, this man stopped to ask if I wanted to buy marijuana. I snapped his picture as he walked away with his child in tow.

DOS TORTAS

Tags: , , ,

Palapas – Thatched Huts Of Mexico

19 Feb

When planning our escape from the United States in 2013, I spent hours researching house construction for tropical living. When all else fails, look to the indigenous population for a cooling, inexpensive, and sustainable construction. Palapas, i.e. thatched huts can be found in the fanciest hotels in Cancun or the simplest villages deep in the interior jungle. They are beautiful, functional, traditional and synonyms with the Mexican Caribbean and Pacific.

Acapulco
Rancho Encantado Bacalar

We have used palapas as overhangs to keep rain and sun out. Our dock is covered with a palapa to provide shade while viewing the laguna or reading in the hammock.

The front of our house.

Only this week did I have the opportunity to view up close and personal the construction of a palapa porch for our new guest room. They really are a work of art and their builder a true artisan.

Grass fronds delivered.
A porch to provide shade,
Original laundry room transformed.

There are many details that only the artist knows. The angles must be specific, the grasses woven correctly and the netting applied to keep the whole thing from flying away. Of course a tropical storm or hurricane can do the job, but we’ve been lucky.

Inside is a welcoming space.
Our dock.

DOS TORTAS

Tags: , ,

It’s A Small Small World

12 Feb

This week I made an unplanned trip to Texas to say my goodbyes to an elderly family member who passed. I was at a local eatery today when I got a big surprise.

Into Central Market walked a friend that I haven’t seen in more than ten years. The clincher is, she lives in Mexico! Dee was in Austin to sell her car. She lives in Northern Mexico and we’ve been in touch and follow each other on social media. I knew she was in town but did not expect to run into her. Austin really is a small, big city.

DOS TORTAS

Tags: , , , ,

Part Tres (3) Mexico 1973

3 Feb

In order to introduce a group of US students to Mexican culture, a three weeks intensive was set aside by the University of the Americas in Cholula, Puebla. I was one of those students.

Week 1) Prehispanic Mexico included trips to ancient pyramids, modern museums and studies of conquest by foreign invaders.

Museum of Anthropology, Mexico City
(replica of the pyramids of Ek Balam 100 BC)
Catholic Church built on top of one of the largest pyramids in the world. Cholula, Puebla
View from the top of the Cholula pyramid 1973 and 2017. The city population has exploded.

Week 2) Colonial Mexico which included visits to cathedrals, studies of French, Spanish and US revolutions and land grabs, and the decimation of native populations.

Mexico City 1973. The main cathedral built on the Zocalo (main square).

Week 3) Modern Mexico included government function, political factions and the election process.

The Center of Three Cultures. In 1964 while preparing for the Summer Olympics, student protesters were herded into a dead end street and shot at from the high rise apartments seen in the photo. One of my teachers was a survivor of this stain on Mexican history.

I was enchanted by the good, the bad and the ugly of Mexican history. I had lived in a neighboring country and knew none of what I was studying. By comparison the United States had no culture. At least in my mind. There was so much to absorb. Today I have come to appreciate Mexican pride, food, artists, music, devotion to family, dance, literature, language and spirituality. It is a lovely country to visit and live in.

DOS TORTAS

Tradicional Dance.

Tags: , , , ,

I Could Have Gone Viral!

28 Jan

This week one of our workers came to the door to inform me that a man at the hotel next door was yelling at him over the fence. He failed to tell me that the man was naked. Puzzled at what the problem could be, I walked outside to investigate. Why didn’t I think to grab my phone and record the less than neighborly interaction? I could have gone viral! A YouTube sensation.

Lisa and I share a wall with a neighbor who owns a small hotel. We had to cut some bamboo to allow space for the overhang to the guest room we are building. The bamboo has provided a visual barrier between us and the numerous guests who pass in and out of the hotelito. The naked Canadian who is currently staying next door came up to the shared wall yelling at me, insisting that I had to put back up a visual barrier where we had cut the bamboo. He didn’t want to look into our property. I attempted to explain to him that he was welcome to add a barrier on his side, as we were not required to do so. The bamboo is ours to do what we like.

Carlos our worker and the bamboo we had to removed to create an overhang on the end of the casita.

This particular gentleman has spent weeks during past Canadian winters staying in Bacalar in exchange for working at the hotel. This is not my first experience of watching him run around naked next door. He begins his day smoking pot and drinking. By the time he spoke to me, nothing he was saying made sense. His ranting continued along with him waving his penis at me in protest. Such a photo op missed.

Here is where we cut bamboo and got an eyeful across the fence. We definitely will be replacing the bamboo with a fence.

Mr Naked then proceeded to place a small speaker on the roof between us and blast very loud, uh, nothing I’d call music in our direction. I left it alone, composed myself and went outside again to try and talk to him, He then came up to the wall, inches from me and grabbed the wire part of the fence and stated, “this (fence) belongs to Teresa (hotel owner)?” He repeated his question several times, perhaps letting his own stupidity sink in. Finally he looked me in the eye and apologized. I wasn’t expecting that! He took down the speaker and I watched his nalgas walk away.

Windows being installed. I’m already in love with the space.

The workers shook their heads in disbelief. On one thing we all agreed, it was a good thing Lisa wasn’t there. Having her grab a machete and jump the fence would not have ended well for anyone. Lol. Why didn’t I think to grab my phone. Sigh. We could have gone viral.

DOS TORTAS

Tags: , , , ,

Part Dos (2) Mexico 1973

22 Jan

The University transport chugged along through the mountains from Mexico City to Puebla. We were high enough that my ears popped 2,240 meters (7,350 ft). I never had altitude sickness thank God, but some of the students did.

Arriving in Puebla, I shared a room in a boarding house with a fellow traveler, Lela from Colorado. She was blond where I was dark. We both had four siblings and were raised Catholic. We even unpacked the same perfume. As a Spanish major, her Spanish was much better than mine. We became fast friends. The room included meals which were an introduction to Mexican cuisine. I’d never eaten tortillas in my life. Their fragrance was nothing I’d ever experienced. I found it strange at first but later it meant Mexico and home to me.

The wonderful corn tortillas of central Mexico.

The university was closed for summer break. In order to receive credit for a full semester we had a three-week class called Introduction to Mexico. It was an amazing three weeks. Week ONE covered pre-Hispanic Mexico. We learned about the Aztec, Olmec and Mayan civilizations. We traveled in the little green bus to Teotihuacan outside of Mexico City. We dined on traditional mole (MO-lay, like guacamole) Poblano, a bitter spicy chocolate sauce poured over chicken or vegetable filled tortillas. The recipe has more than 20 ingredients and is kept secret, handed down for generations.

I LOVE mole, but Lisa not so much.
Gotta love the grunge look and long hair of the 70’s.
Teotihuacan, (Aztec) on top of the pyramid of the moon with the pyramid of the sun in the background.
Replicating the places I visited in 1973, 44 years later.
The Temple of the Feathered Serpent is the third largest pyramid at Teotihuacan, a pre-Columbian site in central Mexico. This structure is notable partly due to the discovery in the 1980s of more than a hundred possibly sacrificial victims found buried beneath the structure. Wikipedia
Olmec carved basalt boulders dating 900 BC near Vera Cruz.

Our Week TWO of Mexican Culture covered Colonial Mexico, Spanish influence, cathedrals, indigenous rights and revolutions. Stay tuned next week for more adventures part three.

DOS TORTAS

Tags: , , ,

Mexico 1973

14 Jan

I first came to Mexico in 1973 at the ripe old age of 21. Mexico was a very different country then than it is now. Very few people had cars. Everyone traveled by bus or train, first class if you had the money, and chicken bus for the rest. Chicken buses were not air conditioned and made frequent stops letting people on and off. There were also no rules about how many people could ride. Buses would be crammed with as many people as possible along with the occasional pig or chicken. They would creak down the road overflowing as we held our collective breath. Today it is one person per seat and the trains have gone the way of the dodo bird.

Stock photo but close enough.

Years earlier, in high school, I had read a teenage novel called Junior Year Abroad. “This 1960 book was a mildly fun fictionalized account of a real junior year abroad, perhaps written with an eye to encourage other American college students to try something that was then still a relatively new idea.” (I can’t believe I Googled this title after fifty years and actually found the very book that changed my life all those years ago!) The book influenced me enough that when I passed an office on my college campus etched with “International Studies” on the glass. I tootled on in. My options were France or Mexico. Mexico was cheaper and I had had a year of Spanish in high school. Why not? The decision was easy.

This book was the start of it all. I can’t believe I found it.

At 21 the world was my oyster. My parents weren’t keen on the whole idea of their only daughter traveling to a foreign country but I assured them that all would be well. My mother took me clothes shopping, her contribution to my adventure.

I now live near the blue dot to the far right near Belize.

In September of 1973, I flew from Newark, New Jersey to Mexico City and joined a group of students from all over the US. We were excited to attend the University of the Americas, an international school in Cholula, Puebla. The university transport picked us up at the airport and off we went to Puebla, about two hours away. I distinctly remember stopping at a large roadside stand filled with fresh fruit, some of which I had never seen before. I purchased a large glass of carrot juice. I had never tasted such a wonderful, brilliantly orange drink. It was served in a glass sitting on top of a block of ice. There was virtually NO PLASTIC of any sort at that time and the streets were much cleaner than today.

Our group waiting to board the university bus.

I have sooo many stories from my nine-month stay in Mexico. I travelled from coast to coast, Puerto Vallarta to Veracruz, Oaxaca to the pyramids of Palenque. I hitchhiked more than once and took overnight trains. School was on a trimester basis and we attended classes four days a week. Believe me, I took advantage of those three-day weekends and trimester breaks.

The view from my room in Puebla of two snow topped volcanoes. They no longer have snow due to climate change.
Puebla is known for its locally made tiles.
We students were in awe. Today there are few houses left with such elaborately decorated facades.

My wife has heard many of the crazy things my younger self survived such as buying marijuana in Acapulco, getting charged head-on by a cow while picking magic mushrooms in Palenque and so much more. I’m feeling the need to put finger to iPad before my memory fades any further. What better venue than my blog. So stay tuned. You won’t want to miss a single episode.

DOS TORTAS

Student dormitories to the right. The famous church of Cholula built on top of an ancient pyramid in the center and the volcano Iztaccihuatl in the distance. On a clear day you could see four snow topped volcanoes from the university.

Tags: , , ,

← Older Entries

smcghee333

A fine WordPress.com site

rudeinnewyork

A topnotch WordPress.com site

Emilie Vardaman

travel and random thoughts

midwife87505's Blog

A great WordPress.com site

A Dead Kennedy

: A journal of a very slooow marathon swimmer

The Soulful Word

Intuitive copywriter + content creator: word whispering magic for lightworkers

View From Casita Colibrí

gringa musings from a rooftop terrace in Oaxaca

Your Hand in Mind

Musings of a human factors engineer after her brain was released...

Adventures with LoLo

Our House In...

Living where we are

balancedveganlife.wordpress.com/

Surviving Yucatan

Smoothing out Mexico's rough spots.

A Boy and Her Dog

Traversing the Border between Butch and Transgender

Surviving Mexico

Adventures and Disasters

Just Another Moment in Paradise

Snippets of an Adventure's Life in Cozumel, Mexico

Perking the Pansies

Jack Scott's random ramblings

Mexico Retold

There's more to Mexico than meets the media

WordPress.com News

The latest news on WordPress.com and the WordPress community.

The Amazon Express

From the most distant source to the sea.

Biketrash Holiday

Adventures on Two Wheels!

%d bloggers like this: