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.
In order to introduce a group of US students to Mexican culture, a three weeks intensive was set aside by the Universityof 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.
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.
Our family has been whittled down to four siblings, myself and three brothers. We are spread about and with the added delight of Covid, haven’t seen each other in six years. We will gather in a weeks time in Florida to reminisce, eat, swim, share, hangout and pass our family lore on to the next generation. I’m looking forward to it.
1981, my youngest brother Michael’s wedding. He died in 2000.
There is something about siblings. We have fought, resented, silenced, made up and reconnected as adults. I think we’ve finally made our peace and there should be no food fights.
2016 Nieces and nephews, spouses and my son at the far end. One brother missing.
So we’ll be packing up and making the trek to the US. House sitters arrive on Wednesday. Wish us safe travels.
As a child, we always had dogs. However, I was never given the responsibility to walk, water or feed them. As an adult, when we expanded our family to include (Princess) Luna, I was puzzled by her barking, anxiety and difficulty sleeping. A quick toodle on YouTube and I found trainer Zak George and his helpful suggestions of taking dogs for daily walks, duh!
You may or may not know that once you do anything a few times with a dog, it quickly goes from a one off, to a habit, to a demand. Their internal clock tells you when it’s time to eat, walk and snack. Once a dog is allowed on the furniture, it takes a LOT of persistence, aka an act of God to break the habit. Our dogs have nothing better to do but wait us out. And they have far more patience.
Royalty
This week on Thursday we had an an arms’ long list of errands to run in preparation for Lisa’s trip to the US. By evening I was so tired that I fell asleep on the couch at 6pm. Of course Stela jumped on me at 7 for her final potty and snack. That dog will kill for food.
Stela the trouble maker.
Come Friday I declared a day of rest. No gym, no swimming, no leaving my hammock ALL DAY. It was a wonderful idea, until around 8am when I felt two pairs of eyes on me. It was time for the morning walk. I was loathe to get to my feet, change into mosquito-proof clothing and pull on my shoes. It’s a good thing I love these dogs, that’s all I have to say. And besides they’re awfully cute.
A lazy quiet week is not a bad thing, even when that still small voice in my head tells me that I should be accomplishing something. Sigh.
This morning there was a smack down between the brown jays and the grackles. No, they’re not soccer/football teams, but the birds of our yard. Lisa and I were meditating when the screeching started.
View of the zapote tree from our porch.
We have a large wild zapote tree on the Laguna, out our back window. It attracts black squirrels the size of small monkeys, birds and our dogs who also love the small, brown fruit it produces. Zapotes, also known as sapodillas are unusual tasting, sort of like a cross between a pear and a kiwi in texture. Our tree is quite prolific and huge.
Our zapote is wild and the fruit doesn’t grow as large as cultivated zapote.
Lisa and I meditate every morning. The birds began making a racket this morning like I have never heard before. If I’d known I was going to write a blog on it, I would have recorded them. It went on for almost twenty minutes.
When I got up to investigate, I saw the large zapote tree full of irate brown jays chasing the grackles out of “their” tree. It was hilarious. Brown jays are bigger than grackles and very, very loud.
I finally put on headphones. This is life in the jungle, peaceful but certainly not always quiet.
With family responsibilities, children, transportation and husband handled, my daughter and I slipped away for a two day, one night adventure to San Francisco. We stumbled into so much fun!
I had wanted to visit a museum and the Legion of Honor Fine Arts Museum was chosen. Except we didn’t expect the extraordinary Haute Couture exhibit by Chinese designer Guo Pei. There was so much glitz and glamor that I was seeing double. Words cannot describe this amazing collection. I was as close to the Met Gala as I’ll ever get.
Dresses were covered in beads, crystals, shells, mink and intricate stitching. I walked around with my eyes wide and my mouth open. One gown was more dazzling than the next.
Stay tuned next week for our continuing story which includes Harry Potter, Louis Vuitton, amazing food and a trip to Napa!
A brief hola from the land north of the Mexican border (NOB). I am engaged with grandchildren and for the next few weeks will be taking a blog break.
Many birds of paradise.
Lisa is holding down the fort and Stella is driving her crazy. So enjoy a few pics from the California coast where I’m hanging out for a few days on a short family vaca. On Monday it’s back to Northern California. Until next week….
Walking to the gym is its own workout.Playing in the chilly Pacific.
Watching the US Supreme Court nomination hearings this week of Judge Katanji Brown Jackson has been both inspirational and emotional. She gives hope to all women, young people, and anyone who has dreams for a better more egalitarian world.
Reading today that Ginni Thomas, wife of sitting Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas tried in December 2020 to influence the overthrow of US elections made me sick to my stomach. What the heck!
Every day is a new beginning.
My personal takeaway this week is what an anonymous passerby whispered to Katanji Brown as a young, confused Harvard student, “persevere.” I’m so glad Judge Brown did.
When we retired to southern Mexico seven years ago, the village of Bacalar was quiet and peaceful. Three cars slowing down was a traffic jam. We used to listen to the stories of dirt roads and no gas stationsfrom the expats who have been here twenty years. You would have thought we’d have seen the writing on the wall.
All roads lead from Bacalar.
In the last two years, as growth has exploded, some good things have happened. Well, at least some pot holes are filled. Slowly roads were paved and with the improvements I noticed something that I found unusual. Roads around town became one-way streets. The odd thing is that rather than pointing out which way TO go, the street signs direct traffic which way NOT to go. It messes with my brain, but this week I think I found out why. There are anomalies in Spanish, not found in English, that may explain.
Don’t turn left.
Menos mal, literally “less bad”. means a good thing in Spanish.
Menos mal que, means “it’s a good thing that.”
So something that is good is described by the degree of badness that it has.
Echar (to throw) de menos, less or badly means to miss
Te echo de menos means “I miss you”.
Also, telling time is stated by subtracting quarters of the hour. For example,
Son las cinco, it is five o’clock, menos cuarto, less fifteen minutes or 4:45. In English we would say that it’s fifteen minutes TO five.
Perhaps other languages use subtraction rather than addition to life in general, ie which way NOT to go or the degree of negative a thing is to determine it’s benefit. If anyone can shed light on this observation, I would love to hear it.
Rather than looking at the negative, behind, or ahead, left or right, we work on staying present. “Right here, right now.” Mexicans are also pretty good about living in the moment, when they’re NOT, not turning left. I’m not sure any of this makes sense, but have a good week.
the adventures of dos tortas 
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