¡¡Hi, homeys!!

So, we were walking down our winding dirt road through our little village one dark evening, and as we passed by a gathering of the older kids (teens and 20s), one of them said quietly to us, and in a friendly way, "¡Hi, homeys!"

Say what?

So, L.A. is arriving in our Little Salty Place ( the name of our village, translated into English)... For those of you who know our friends here, it was another one of Omar´s many uncles... a guy who JUST got back from a number of years in L.A. There has been a bit of a rush on returns here, lately. Each of them smiles, and says they came back because they like it better here.

That sweet little surprise was one of the cherries on the end of one helluva great (WORK) day. It´s a day to be remembered for the uncommon amount of activity...

It began at dawn. We had barely crawled out from under our mosquito netting when Ramon ambled up our hill for a friendly cup of coffee on our porch... It was a cool morning, so after coffee, I grabbed a machete and a stick and headed out to our front yard to begin the great clearing of the jungly overgrowth (we were absent from here for 10 months this time, so our property is buried in such growth).

My clumsy slashing was too much for Ramon. He grabbed a machete and a stick and came out there with me. His help was much appreciated, but alas he cut down two (2!) of our baby lemon trees as well as the humongous weed trees. Anyway, Robert also got inspired, grabbed his machete and stick and took off down the hill to clear where we will build a tower for our electricity pole (yahoo!), and along came Guillermo (dear friend and incidentally the mayor and father of our little shadow, Ariana), with HIS machete and stick. There´s much more clearing to do, but this particular morning made a great dent in it...

....Ches and Kevin, your tent will be there in the newly cleared yard. Anyway, when the sun climbed a bit higher, that was enough of that.

Along ambled Omar up our little hill, with a big bandage on his toe. There I was with a big bandage on my thumb. Both of us, it seems, had cut off the ends of our respective digits. Neither of us could go in the water -- so! We grabbed the wheelbarrow and a shovel and some bags and headed down to the river and dug up rich black earth, brought it back up our hill and created a beautiful vegetable garden, complete with high wooden walls and chicken wire over the top (keeping out the pigs, cows, chickens, whatever). Robert and Omar planted rows of spinach and mesclun (mixed greens), and the little plantlings popped up the VERY next day in long rows!

High noon. Folks disappeared to cool shady places, and I worked on my next children´s book about the ants...

Same day, a bit later, Robert tormented the little kitten with de-flea-ing and de-mite-ing it which was not a quick operation... The kitty got so tired of objecting that by the end, he actually fell asleep while the process went on.

Next! All right!! WATER! We never know when water will begin flowing through our hoses but there it was. Immediately, we filled up both of our brand'new water tanks (gosh, ease in bathing with buckets, ease in washing clothes and dishes.... WATER!).... and there was such a quantity pouring in that all the kids -- who had by then returned to watch the gringos and of course to play Jenga, and play with whatever other toys I always bring down for them -- well, they all decided to wash our brown car and find out what color it really is. It´s a greenish-blue. Who knew?

Time for a break. Break out the watermelon. Great feasting.

Gringo soup (hecho por Roverto, who is a GREAT soup'maker) was shared by all. The kids actually really like Robert´s cooking very much.... But then they go off for the tortillas and whatever else their moms are making -- and off they went.

In the cool dark of early evening (if 9pm is early---well, in the village it IS early, though to Robert and me, it is legal to go to bed) -- anyway, in the cool dark, we decided to spend the next 2-3 hours visiting with Jesus (hay-SUS) Pompa and Francisco...

These two men gather every single evening to sing all the old corridas -- long story'songs of the Mexican tradition -- in the style of "Out in the west Texas town of El Paso, I fell in love with a Mexican maid..." -- really beautiful heart-tugging songs. Jesus is a tiny and old, bent man with a cane for whom walking is a painful necessity. He plays a beat-up old guitar, his bent'up old fingers running all over the keyboard, and he sings the sweet high harmonies. Francisco is much younger, probably a good many years younger than me, and formerly a scuba diver for fish, all along the west coast of Mexico, now happily retired in the village. He has a beautiful, haunting deep voice that gets so very tender at times it can bring tears to your eyes.

It was on this short sweet walk in the dark from our house to that of Jesus, that we were greeted by the young folk: "!!Hi, homeys!!"

By the way, the waves have been really really big and great even for boogie'boarders.

Is something retrograde somewhere?

Apparently SOMETHING is retrograde. Our friend Matilde can recount a similar list of, um, mishaps. I'll make it quick and in order:

* I got swimmer's ear my first and only day in the water, which to the uninitiated, feels like you have some severe infection in your brain that is tunneling in deeper and deeper. Easily cured once you get the proper, easily available drops. We have them now. It is cured.

* The next day I cut off the tip of my thumb while cutting down strangling vines from one of our mango trees. It is healing nicely, no infection, but the tip-flap is pure white so it will be interesting to see what I get when it is all finished. Keeps me out of the sea, though.

* Our playful little boy-kitty gets confused as to just where he's supposed to go to the bathroom so he needs watching just now...

* By the way, the worst news is that cappuchinos now cost MORE for LESS than you get in Durango. Nothing wrong with drinking instant Nescafe with instant milk, I always say.

* The dramas in Gringolandia/Beachside are too much like a soap opera with an ever-changing cast of characters.  Not worth the pixels.

Enough!!  I hear the waves are great.  Lots of people on 'em.  Time to head back to the beach.  I can at least wade, and cool down, til my thumb heals.

Cha-ne-ke/Latin Soul/Anthropology

(1) CHANEKE (pronounced "cha-NEHkeh")

Okay, it just happened, okay? We didn't ask for this.

Our second night here, we were sitting in the gentle twilight on our porch and little Ariana (our perennial shadow) slipped in through the gentling darkness and slowly lowered something into my arms.... something warm and fuzzy.

So now we have a new kitten. This little guy looks almost exactly like our lost Corazon (see posts "The Very Heart of Christmas" and "Alas, Corazon) and is in fact, a descendent -- a nephew of Corazon., the son of Corazon's littermate.  Tiny little loving creature, he even has a heart on the same side that Corazon had a furry patterned heart!  And, he has an unmistakable heart in the coloration of his nose, too.  He fit right into our lives, discovered all the same safe hiding places around our house that Corazon used to use, loves the same toys (knotted plastic bags, wood chips, a suspended string with a knot). And we plan to bring him back, of course.

We named him Cha-ne'-ke (cha-NAYkay) -- a delightful name that makes all the locals laugh with delight. The Chaneke are little Leprechaun-like creatures that live along the waterways of Mexico. Some people are afraid of them, but from the laughter, I think most folks get a kick out of the idea of them. Our Chaneke was born on the beach.

(2) LATIN SOUL
As for Latin Soul! Love it. There I was, surrounded by kids on our porch all involved in the various projects I've collected for kids (drawing, Jenga, building blocks, 3-D projects...) and two young girls were with me wanting to sing.

I reminded them of the French cathedrals round from last visit and we did a few rounds of that and I noticed the words were changing from "Orleans" on to "Vendome" and becoming: "Tenedor, Cuchara, Cuchillo para cortar, Un Vaso, Un Vaso" --(fork, spoon, knife for cutting, a glass, a glass) --and by then, they'd had ENOUGH of this "pinche gringo" music --

.....and burst into a rousing round (complete with body dancing while still suspended in hammocks) of "La Cucaracha" only again, the words were changed:
"Roberto loco, Roberto loco, no se puede a nadar, porque no tiene, porque le falta, tabla para surfiar!" (Crazy Robert, crazy, Robert, cannot go to swim, because he doesn't have, because he's missing, a surfboard for surfing)

(3) ANTHROPOLOGY
I'm glad I'm not still bound by the tenets of first'year anthropology where you visit a foreign culture and do not interfere but simply coolly observe... but I'm working out how to, um, intervene a bit. One morning a crew came over, and one mom along with her 18-month old son, Damian. Damian has been here without her, in the arms of older siblings, and all has been calm... But THIS visit really took us both by surprise....

There was a minor altercation between Damian and our Shadow, Ariana . The MOTHER picked up Damian,carried him over to Ariana and told him to HIT her and to BITE her! Numerous times she instructed him, and he obeyed. She was laughing all the while and Robert and I watched in hidden horror....

I thought of saying something, but don' want to undermine a mother.... so my solution is simple. In fact, I'e already set up the mood for it.... I keep a conscious awareness of the energy among the kids, and maintain a sort of Buddhist calmness in the air. This works.

One catch-phrase that spontaneously came out of my mouth to intercept a snooty interchange between the boys and the girls was "Cuida su corazon..." -- "Watch your heart...."

Oh... and the waves were GREAT for the first few days. We're in a bit of a lull just now, so today is a town trip. Adios, amigos....

Del Rio, TX > La casita...

Let us now sing the praises of a border town!
Who knew, when we were stopped at the Mexican customs for missing papers for our CAR, that we would enjoy what has always looked to be a hellacious strip-town of malls and cheap tourist shops . We had at least a day/overnight waiting for FedEx'd papers (which did come promptly, thank you SO much Terry and Char).

The name TELLS us that the town has something to offer -- (by the river) -- and thanks to their Chamber of Commerce we spent a most mellow, cool day sleeping on picnic tables under vast spreading branches of cool trees, birds calling gently overhead, and then wading in pure cool water only some yards from where it pours forth from the earth.

There are, in fact, TWO pure fresh-water springs bubbling forth a short distance apart, so there are TWO little rivers flowing side by side... one is great for wading, and the other is where the brave teen'aged boys leap and dive from rather high bridges. It is a community park, all locals relaxing and laughing and picnicking -- and us.

Of the museums we did not bother to visit, one stands out for its uniqueness... A museum to one bodacious quack doctor who said he could perform a simple operation that would totally restore the virility of men -- and performed it often... If I recall correctly, he did indeed insert the gonads of goats into the gonads of men. The leaflet that advertised the museum continued with all the other quackery performed by this wealthy fake -- but never mentioned whether or not the potency of his patients was improved --nor did it mention whether or not they even survived...I would have thought that such would be of prime interest to readers.

Sing praises also to the iPod -- our latest concession to the digital age. Still no cell'phone but we really love how tiny the iPod is and how much music and how many books'on'iPod it can hold and still be only a quarter full. NO huge container of CDs at my feet anymore.

And sing praises to our vecinos en nuestro pueblo... our village neighbors who DID water our bugambilias (Spanish for the French bougainevilleas), and the Copa de Oro flowering plants --and planted MORE flowering plants around the porch. We were greeted with so much color...

...and ten months of dust and dead flower petals blown into our casita. THings are in order, just need unpacking and cleaning up. Whew.

Only one small biting ant nest, easily stamped. One small nest of our favorite spiders --terrifying to look at-- but devourers of cucarachas. For those who haven't seen our photos of the Madre Alacran, these spiders are, with legs normally positioned at least 8" across. Her body is also big AND she sports huge arms like those of a Praying Mantis, spikes and all!! (Mother of Scorpions is what her name means) Both her mouth and her armtips contain poison when they close on you.

We have never even felt threatened by them. They hide under things, on walls, wherever, and are ferocious hunters. Robert has entertained himself from time to time by wounding a cockroach and putting it, on the tip of a spear, where the Madre Alacran's (12") feelers can find it. What an incredible drama ensues. The moment she feels/senses food she goes into a crouch and very stealthily makes her way in a circular pattern towards her prey -- one feeler always pinpointing its location. Once within striking distance --WHAM-- the prey is grabbed by the claws, stung, and pulled to her mouth, stung again and immediately devoured.

We were in the ocean by late afternoon and the wave were perfect. And spent the evening among friends in the village. Simpatico...

One thing to comment on is that the recession is here in Mexico, too. The father of our favorite family is the mayor of the town as well -- and he said that for the past four months, there have been NO FISH in the sea. Our village is a village of fishermen. They are all hurting, seriously. And there's not much building going on, so no alternate income. The mayor pulled the pockets of his shorts inside out -- no dinero/no money. And it was obvious that everyone is having a hard time. On the road to our shopping town, too, we see empty lumber yards and other businesses nearly empty, too.... We can help a little, hiring local friends to help build our outdoor kitchen etc...

And there is just a lot of camaraderie built from years of friendship among us. Glad to be here.

love to you all, Sarita y Roverto

Mexico Preview (pix!)...

¡BIENVENIDOS, AMIGOS!

Thanks for dropping by.

We're just about to drive off to our digs in Mexico -- and since I don't know how to post pix on the blog while we're down there, here are a few from visits past, to give you a sense of it all...

For instance, here's a photo from the early days when we camped in the (ripe) mango grove.  A mix of villagers and Durangotans pose (Robert on the left).  The surfin' waves are in the background, but first we have to cross the river wherein this crocodile was found!  He swam too close to the salty water mixed in with river water and so died.  We always cross where the salty water mixes heavily with the river water....

The year after the crocodile surprise, we bought our little village casita and melted right in with the folks who live in the village -- and of course, particularly the kids.  Every spring is kite season, and the kids often gather on our porch to make their own unique kite creations out of sticks and old plastic bags.  And these kites FLYYYYYyyyyyy!!A rare view of our porch, with nothing on it.  We had just newly plastered and painted it.  It will fill up with hammocks, a hand-made (beautiful) table and bench made by Robert, and whatever projects we might be onto at the time.  It's a busy place, this porch.  The rooms serve mostly as storage -- but they too are finished and painted cheerful colors.  It's just so nice to be outside on the porch!
This photo, oh THIS photo---this photo reminds us of all the work awaiting us.  Hopefully the yellow flowering vine ("copa de oro") that we planted last spring will have climbed up that wall...  But we have to install that big water tank you see there on the back of our trusty-dusty car--which means we also have to get electricity wired over to us, too.  And our back porch (we extended that roof over it earlier) needs to have its floor cemented (by us).  You can see the pile of rubble/rocks that will go at the bottom as we hand-mix and pour the cement into the mold we'll have to build.  Our visit ain't all surfin'!  But it's livin', and we do love it.  To the right of the casita is one of the four (4!) mango trees on our property that will be dropping big ripe mangos every day while we're there this time.

So....  the next post will be from our digs in Mexico (well, the nearest rent-a-computer place).  In between the hard work, we'll be melting in with our friends in the village, playing with the kids,  sharing meals with friends, and singing with the traditional guitarist down the road at night...  Oh, and surfing (Robert),  and boogie-boarding (that would be me).    Our experience here is not a vacation...  It's a slice of life that we treasure.  Peace!  Sara y Roverto

Whimsy! A Slovak Menu Decoded

A friend of mine is now living in Slovakia with her husband.  She is busily studying Slovakian -- but apparently even being a native speaker of English does not help her navigate the restaurant menu situation.  She recently sent out a list of actual menu items -- which were in ENGLISH! --  and challenged us to figure out what the hey!  HER words are in blue.  MY responses are in black.

The person with the most creative translations  wins a prize, viz:  a trip to Trnava, Slovakia at your expense!

Feel free to outguess me in a return email!!  Maybe YOU will be the one to go to Trnava!

======THE  MENU  QUIZ======================

Make an educated guess what you think these menu items are: 

1. Hen tea ---- HERB TEA!

2. Fried zander steak --- (a euphemism for food made from political invaders, fried.  The term "zander" is referring to Alexander the Great, none too popular in history)

3. Fritted Inkpot --- (black coffee, and I mean with the grounds still in it, and I mean you can EAT it with a spoon!)

4. Grilled slices of pork maiden slopped with Gipsy sauce --- (Every year on the Pisces New Moon, the gypsies kidnap, grill, and serve a comely, rounded (porky) maid, all done up with the finest herbs and flavors poured liberally over slices of ...her!)

5. Wild boar on hip wine sauce --- (Boar is misspelled;  it's wild BORE,  and this is someone like a deadly dull professor, or politician who, like the portly (pork) maiden above, has been kidnapped and well-cooked,.  The wild bore is then  laid out on a grand, deep tray where he soaks in the finest of home-made wines;  very hip these days)

6. Baked smoked knee for two persons --   (who KNEW that Slovaks were such cannibals!  Yet ANOTHER meal made of human parts!  These are the tenderized knees of religious renunciates whose knees have been knelt on for what to US would be a lifetime -- the bone swells and the cartilege fills with juicy tender bone tendrils which have a great crunch to them once baked.  Smoking the knees gives them a nice wild flavor, like a renunciate who lived alone on some mountaintop (a delicacy).  It's for TWO persons because there are actually two knees per renunciate. )

7. Pickled Rams Horns --- (just what it says it is -- but they are hell on your teeth!)

8. Home tray of chef for two persons ---  (this keeps the various chefs in line, for there IS  a constant turnover of chefs owing to complaints from diners;  in actuality, there is no chef diced and soaked in a secret home-made wine sauce;  this is a tray of soaked wild mushrooms.  Go figure)

9. American potatoes ---  (just what it says it is, only raw, unsliced  and unwashed...  simply placed upon a plate, from which they might roll off if the waiter is clumsy.) 

10. Fried champions --- (alas, another euphemism -- this is obviously what becomes of the LOSERS in the Slovak Olympics;  boiled, actually, in oil)

11. Fried ermine in beer batter --- (on a stick!  honest to God, I've had one!  crispy little ermine, feet and all, with the tail still furry, with white fur, for effect)

12. Cup of ice with cream (this isn't as obvious as it looks) --- (nothing like it says here,  it's merely ice cubes with clotted cream poured over it;  costs more if you add creme de menthe.)

ISHTAR'S GILGAMESH....

 

Recently, I performed the ancient Mesopotamian story of "Gilgamesh."  The story itself, some 4,500 years old, and carved in cuneiform on clay tablets, describes one man's search for immortality.  It is a timeless story, and it 

speaks to me.  I find that I am deeply moved by this ancient tale.

A timeless, poetic, and powerful story, it rocked me to my bones as the hero struggles against the inevitability of death -- both of those he loves and of his own death.  In the end, after a long and driven journey beyond the boundaries of this world, he finally comes to terms with the nature of life.  You will recognize yourself here.

As I was performing it, I realized that you could say that this story is also a celebration of Ishtar.  She is there at every pivotal moment in the life of Gilgamesh, influencing and dramatically affecting the trajectory of his experiences.  So, from that viewpoint, I briefly recount the major events:

 

In his youth, Gilgamesh is a powerful, self-centered and egotistical ruler determined to make a name for himself through great works -- built by enslaving his own people.  Furthermore, he lays claim to the virginity of every young woman in his city-state of Uruq.  In despair, the people pray to Ishtar for deliverance.  I cannot ascribe to Ishtar a complete manipulation of Gilgamesh.  He has free will, and thus it seems the story can go in a number of directions. However, in the end, Gilgamesh will be transformed.

Because the people have prayed to Ishtar,  she will respond.  She creates a "second Gilgamesh," a Gilgamesh with heart.  She forms him out of a lump of clay and tosses it into the wilderness.   And now the story swings into its own wild imagery.

This new creation, Enkidu as he is called, is a seductive wildman, a charming free spirit.  He captures the hearts of the people of Uruq and he blends his soul with that of Gilgamesh.  But for the heart of Gilgamesh to really open, Gilgamesh must understand how deeply he loves.  The drama carries on.  Enkidu and Gilgamesh join forces and become unstoppable.  What they would do, they CAN do, and like two Titans, they look for great feats to accomplish, for terrifying monsters to slay.

At the end of one great conquest, Ishtar comes to Gilgamesh, seductively, offering her hand in marriage.  Ah, but he rejects her, and does so with an eloquent speech full of insults.  In rage, Ishtar sends down the Bull of Heaven, meant to destroy Gilgamesh...

 ...but instead, it is the Bull of Heaven that is slain -- with the excellently choreographed help of Enkidu.  Gilgamesh has not been humbled.  His heart has not been opened.  The prayers of the people of Uruq have not been answered...

Ishtar wails from the high walls of Uruq, ignored by the triumphant heroes.

Now begins the deep power of the story.  As decreed by the gods, Enkidu is stricken with a slow, debilitating loss of power -- dying without glory, merely ebbing away.  When he dies, Gilgamesh goes mad with grief and rejects all his kingly trappings.  He takes on the rags of the wildman that Enkidu once was, storms out of Uruq, and seeks immortality beyond the very ends of the earth.

And who is waiting there for him, when he actually reaches this remote region?  A barmaid who calls herself Siduri...  a disguised Ishtar.  She is kind and forthright.  He seeks immortality, so she gives him advice on how to reach the one man who can help him.  And she smiles.  Her parting words, before he sets off on this last stretch of his journey, are these, "...if the boatman will not help you cross over the lake, you can always come back to me...."

Gilgamesh sets off in search of the boatman.  When the boatman does not immediately respond to his summons, Gilgamesh displays his typical arrogance and quick anger by destroying the stone images in the boat.  In doing so, he has destroyed the power that carries the boat safely across the death-waters of the lake.

  

With genuine patience, the boatman offers a last alternative -- and so here you see Gilgamesh bringing "twice-sixty" poles to push the boat along.  Each pole can be used only once before it is eaten up by the toxic waters.

The goal of this lake-crossing is to reach the one human who has achieved immortality, a man called Utnapishtim.  What Utnapishtim shares with Gilgamesh is a story within itself -- but in the end, Gilgamesh is still denied the immortality he seeks.  Utnapishtim advises him to return home, and to live out his life.

At the end of this long circular journey, Gilgamesh approaches the great walls of Uruq.  His heart has opened.  No longer arrogantly proud, he recognizes the beauty of the city of Uruq -- the walls, the city within, and the people who dwell there.  And he recognizes it as the home of Ishtar...

 

Using the honorific that indicates her presence, the humbled Gilgamesh has returned to Uruq of the Sheepfold.