La Tormenta

(I just found the time to write something here...so I´ll start at the beginning: our arrival in the Little Salty Place on October 10)
LA TORMENTA--
We bumped and splashed down the twisty hilly dirt road to our village after four days on the road... and stopped every three or four houses to get out and hug dear friends, and then drive a bit more. All the while, the kids velcroed to our car, laughing and babbling in excitement. Finally, I just joined the little cloud of enthusiasm and together we made our way to the far end of the village, and to the gate below our humble casita...
...and there we stopped.

We could go no further.

The rainy season had caused the jungle to completely obscure our property.. you could barely see the roof of our little casita at the top of the little hill. You could open the gate, but you couldn´t walk in... far too thick and high and tangled for that.

But aha!! Comes the Man With a Machete! The Mayor, and our dear friend!

As though he were the Pied Piper, we filed in close behind him as he powerfully slashed a twisting, winding route up the hill to our porch. From the porch, we looked out on..... jungle. Jungle with ZINNIAS peeking out here and there. Did I ever plant zinnias? I don´t remember.

I opened up our three rooms -- all was fine and safe, sequestered in neat rows and stacks of plastic boxes to keep out the animals and insects. Robert sauntered in, grabbed HIS machete, and together he and the mayor cleared our driveway and brought the car up.

By then, the kids had settled in on the porch floor as if we had never left (which we HAD-- last May!). They know where all the toys and drawing implements are, and set themselves up for a lovely afternoon with us...

Then came La Tormenta!
¿Isn´t that a great name for the swirling tail of a hurricane?

Solid rainfall pounding all around and I swear there were fish swimming out there... But no wind, so no one got wet. It fell straight down, and we were safe under our porch roof. The pounding torment of hard rain on our tin roof was deafening and we yelled over it to be heard. Other than that, no one seemed to notice. It is just la tormenta. No es nada.

When the rain let up, the kids wandered home for dinner. They had about 30 minutes to do that before it started up again... and that was the pattern for our first few days. The breaks were just long enough to get stuff done before it all started again.

What sweetened our arrival even more was the next morning... our first morning back. There was a brief break in la tormenta, and in that break the Mayor and his wife walked down from their house bearing a big bowl of chicken soup Mexicana, and fresh home-made tortillas.

AND NOW...
We are expecting a huge swell, growing ever higher all this week. Not many surfers around, so that is a good thing, too. The surf has been quite small for our first days here, and thus we got a lot done around the casita and yard. Muchmore to do, as always. And there is village gossip, of course. And kids have matured, friendships deepened. No sharks. I have gotten into crayon drawings again....

HEY
You can continue to write to us at my email address == you do not have to go through this blogspot. And if you DO write, then I will have YOUR email address and can respond. I did not bring down a list of emails, nor did we remember to bring our bedding, nor did we bring brown rice, nor did we bring our favorite spices for food, not even brewer,s yeast or soy sauce... we are coping with salsa and chile peppers of course. Gosh, the food is great here, and the fruit abundant. And Jojo,s gift of a box of Colorado apples is veryvery popular, too.

Clearing of the air...again

I should stick to storytelling of course, but recently there have been two art exhibitions with a Call to Artists that elicited images in my mind...  and so I put them to paper.  I include them here, so I can move on...

"Nizhoni No More" -- Nizhoni means beautiful in Navajo...  

This is the image I saw in my mind as I read the call for art which protests the proposed construction of yet another (and the largest) coal-fired power plant here in the Four Corners.  I chose to depict a Navajo rug from the Beautiful Way, being obliterated by the pollution from the operation of the plant.  Thus the ancient wisdom traditions are also obliterated by greed.

"Welcome In"

I had already painted this, and when I read of an upcoming "Sacred Arts Festival," I decided to submit it.  The image I was trying to express was that of coming abundance -- the ephemeral approaching camels taking solid form as they pass through the shimmering yantra of abundance.  A friend pointed out that the imagery is also Christian -- the Three Kings passing through the Star of David and taking solid form.  This downloaded photo barely shows the Star of David which is at the center of the yantra.

...mere sketches

Since I was unable to capture the true profusion of color with a camera, I tried to do so with colored pencils. Pretty poor sketching skills, but this does give a bit more of a feel for how lush the flowers were this year.... along the side of our humble little casita in the Little Salty Place. We planted three colors of bugambilia at the base of a "retorño" tree.  This creates a great trompe-l'oeil -- telling the eye that this tree has three colors of blossoms (white, red and purple). The yellow blooms in the big pots are "Copa de Oro" and will be transplanted to the base of our upcoming carport support posts... copious yellow blooms on a climbing plant. In the foreground -- margaritas! And over by the water tank is a mango tree dripping with yet-to ripen mangos.

A quick sketch, celebrating the hibiscus...

MexPix / Village life - Spring 2008

BRIEF SHARK UPDATE:  They've posted warning signs on our beach and there's a lifeguard by the break with a two-way radio.  A helicopter cruises the coastline and reports sightings (two great whites and a bunch of bull sharks).  Apparently the sharks cruised off somewhere, though, because according to an email from Matilde, everyone was right back in the water for a 5-day huge swell, her husband included.  No attacks.

But here, a small selection -- almost random -- of our village life.  Peter has promised to share his pix, too.  He has a great photographer's eye.  In a future post:  a couple of drawings, pix of the beach-life, and hopefully I can finally succeed in uploading a video of Jesus & Francisco singing an old corrida...

Our humble home as it looks in April, 2008.  The ferns, fruit trees, and flowers will continue to grow more prolific and luxuriant as the years go by.  This home was built by the brother of a village friend of ours (see photo below this one).  

Here is the family who built our casita.  They lived in it, unfinished and unplastered, for a number of years and then crossed the border (early '80s).  They are legal US citizens now.   Their son (at the top) is said to be the Police Chief or Sheriff of Fresno.  Maybe so.  The two boys in their laps are actually neighbor kids.

Our very first guava trees are flowering!!  When the fruit is ready to eat, it will be our village friends who will be the lucky ones to pluck them.  What makes this guava, and the lemon and the mandarin trees as well, so delightful is that we did NOT plant them.  We sat on the porch the very first season we were here and spit the seeds over the side.  They just growed.

This is the first photo taken of little Chaneke, the nephew of Corazon.  As did Corazon, little Chaneke has a heart on his side....   but Chaneke is clearly his own self, feisty little trickster that he is.

Ahhh, but not all of Chaneke's days were on his own terms.  So teeny was this flea-bitten furbag that on flea-be-gone days, this is how Robert did it.  Stuffed him in a large coke bottle with the soap.  No claws, no cries.  Just dumb submission.  Fluffy clean kitty afterwards.

We are very proud of our private showering facilities, under a fruiting mango tree.  At last, we can shower naked.  "No es correcto" to be seen without clothes, you know -- huh, Jojo?

Here, Robert is conferring with the mayor of our Little Salty Place about construction plans for our new outdoor kitchen.  Guillermo is sitting at his own home's construction site, where he is adding several bedrooms of brick and cement to his previous wattle-and-daub construction.

And here is a series of photos of the village kids we've been watching and loving as they grow.

Drawing is always popular, so I keep crayons, pencils, glue, scissors and paper (and other amusements) handy.  The kids know where I stash them, and are welcome anytime to just start in. (Luis, standing. Angelica, Ariana, Anomiszul, Daisy;  Robert by the car)

Anomiszul is studying how the world is put together....

The mood is so loving, warm and light.  Jenga is also so popular... Anomiszul, Robert, Omar, Sandra and Lalo here.

Some of the teenagers!  We've known these good-looking youths since they were little kids (oh, and Peter on the right, showing them his digital pix).

"¡¡¡O Solo Mio!!!" sings Damiancito....

Ariana (our little shadow) and her cousin Damiancito, in front of Ariana's wattle-and-daub home -- built by her dad, the mayor of our Little Salty Place.

Sandra (Ariana's older sister) on her 13th birthday.

Just one of countless work photos, this one showing that wild ladder which Robert made -- 90 pounds of heavy coconut wood, held in the air by one single pole.  That's Peter helping him with the pouring of a new cement post.

And here...  at the home of dearly loved Jesus Pompa (seated with guitar, father of 11 kids spanning from 70 years to 14) and his second wife (mother of some of them), Julie.  Jesus sings the high harmonies and Francisco, in the foreground, sings the haunting melodies.  All the old corridas.  Francisco bicycles here every night on a dark bumpy dirt road from another village -- every night! -- in order to sing with Jesus.  For us, it is a short walk from our casita, and we are transported.  In a separate entry on this blogspot,  I hope to post one of our short videos of these two singing one of their corridas.  Watch the fingerwork of Jesus! In this photo below, pictured with them are David Carey, Peter Carey, Robert and myself. 

UPDATE: for the life of me I cannot get the short video to post.  Can't even email it out. Practically shuts down the computer.  Any advice out there?  The videos are ".mpg" format, from our little digital camera. (Also, couldn't post the photos any larger than this... dang)

I miss everyone already, and we're hardly a week back home.

More shark attacks -- and timing belt woes...

I feel that I´m being a bit indulgent by contining to write of these shark attacks, but they keep COMING! I feel these deaths as though I knew these people.

The very day I wrote the entry before this one, I then learned that two more had died from attacks -- this time on beaches to the northwest of us (the others were to the southeast of us, not that it matters to a shark)....

One attack was just one stinking mile from the beach where Robert, Peter and a couple of young lads from our village were surfing -- they had gotten up early to drive to a more challenging wave further northwest along the shore, and it was not their time.

On our last full day in our Little Salty Place, we drove Pete and his dad to the airport and spent the rest of the day packing up the house, and loving our friends in the village, missing them already....

...while at the very same time, and unknown to us then, at our beach, so very nearby, Lourdes was warning everyone that six (6!) sharks had been spotted in our surf -- compliments of the fishermen who are out their in their big heavy open motorboats. Two of the sharks were humongous, longer than our station wagon. We only heard about it after we were packed up and just sitting quietly on our porch in the cool of our last night. Omar. He told us. He is Hanuman.

The impact of these shark deaths will have a devastating effect on so many of our friends in our village.... and all of the coastal villages. We are stunned and sobered and awakened in a new way... the dreamworld shattered, as such worlds always are.

And now we are on the road north as planned from before any of this began.

But we are not, um, getting anywhere just now.

That funny electrical, burning smell we attributed to a passing truck was actually us. Our timing belt uttlerly shredded and the motor just stopped, and the car gently coasted to a stop by a big shade tree, next to a cool moist glen! Handy for Robert who is there right now working on the car...

We had hardly got the hood up and the problem assessed before a little red car stopped and a very kind soul offered whatever help he could give us. He took Robert to a mechanical shop for parts. Robert has his own tools and expertise, plus our car is intentionally of a style for which parts are commonly available in Mexico.

Then, he came and got me (and little Chaneke) and took me off to a very pleasant hotel with free internet. Ta'da!

I expect we will be back on the road north, through customs and in Texas by, say, early afternoon tomorrow, and heading for Durango.

Mexico, Mexico, Mexico -- a big part of our hearts, now more poignantly than ever.

Shark attacks on the Mexican Riviera

We are leaving tomorrow at dawn for the long drive north... Home maybe late May 30th, inshallah.

When I have time to muse, I want to create a little essay on time'traveling right here in our Little Salty Place, and wax eloquent on the immersion into love that is a specialty of life in this village... To my experience, that is the goal of all our conversations. When we lean back in laughter, our eyes meeting in that vast space of recognition, what more is there to say?

But there is also a sobering awakening in the air. There were back to back shark attacks on nearby beaches -- that means two more since the one I reported earlier in this blog... That makes three in a short time. A young handsome local was killed just a short ways down the road (Pantla) and the very next day, a wiry ex'pat American was attacked at Playa Linda (read: Ixtapa). He managed to grab his board and beat the shark off. He was also on a beach which is a short drive to the US Naval Hospital where he could receive blood transplants... The other two young men were on more remote beaches, and bled to death. Legs and hands, legs and hands...

I´m bringing back newspapers with photos of all the victims. They deliver these newspapers to all the villages -- just drive down the long dusty bumpy roads with a loudspeaker announcing the contents of the newspaper and if you are interested, you run out to the road with your coins in your hot little hand...

So WHY all these attacks when there have never been any before? Here´s what they´re saying at Lourdes' bar on the beach... We have all seen the helicopters and planes droning overhead all along the Mexican Riviera.... Apparently these guys are checking out the situation.

The report we got back is that there is a cold current which runs along the length of the great coast of Mexico. Usually it is quite far out to sea. The fish hang out in the cold current and thus, the sharks cruise along with them, feeding at will. That cold current has moved in towards the shoreline, CLOSE to the shoreline. With it come the fish, and following them are the sharks....

What´s the difference, to a shark, between a big fish and a big human in the water?

The men report that the cold current is rife with sharks, wild with sharks, dark with sharks. Said one of the men in one of those planes, "I sure as hell wouldn´t go into that water now...." Robert quit going out in our last couple of days. We were even testy about boogie'boarding close to shore....

So our only consolation seems to be that we can hope that this cold current (which our local fisherman do not recall having ever moved so close to shore) will drift on back out to the open sea...

Robert has just appeared, done with his errands. Time to go back to the village, finish packing, and drive on back north.... with Chaneke/Senor Bigote/Bandido/cat of many nicknames.

Peace.

Hot Sex in the Breakers... and other musings

Yeah.

I guess they thought no one would notice, or maybe they didn´t notice that there were people watching, or maybe they completely forgot that there were any other people in the world. But for two days in a row, two separate couples got it ON right there in the ocean.

There were people watching of course.

I happened to be in the very same wave sets, a short distance away, both times. An occasional side'glance was irresistable. The first couple melted themselves into each other, right where the waves broke around them. She was in a tight leg'lock around his waist, her arms around his neck. As the waves enveloped and revealed them, their union was made visible to all. I got to thinking what a wonderful blending of worlds that must be, you know.... The swelling of the wave all around them lifting them together into weightlessness, and then exploding all around them, enveloping them in a force bigger than themselves, rolling and turning them, pulling them back out and exploding again, and again, and again..... Hmmm....

The next day, I just happened to out in the waves again -- like I am every day, right in front of our favorite little restaurant run by one of our village neighbors. This couple joined me and then forgot about me. Their blending was more discreet, and the waves a bit calmer. They held their ground just out from the breaking point of the waves. Thus they were simply lifted into weightlessness and gently dropped, and lifted again and gently dropped. You saw only their heads for the most part. But ah, the expressions on her face told all -- absorbed, passionate, reveling in their immersion.... If you happened to glance over their way, that is.

OTHER MUSINGS?
Like how do you top that?
Okay, I´ll behave myself.

THE MOTHERLESS CHILD
Dear little Luis! I have always waved and sent him sweet smiles, reminding him that we are neighbors so he would be accustomed to me. The other day, we were each on our own side of the fence separating our yards. He was playing with sticks and I was slashing away at the strangling vine threatening our mango trees.

When I spoke to him, he came right over and handed me two little sticks! A great gift. I ran and got him a banana. A BANANA! He was all over it. So then, I got him his very own box of crayons and the three pieces of blank paper I have left -- red, green, and yellow construction paper. He became the embodiment of Picasso in the heart of creative passion. He quickly searched out a flat piece of stone and began transforming the green paper into solid yellow with a concentration of body and mind and soul that is the envy of all artists! His entire body was involved and there was only yellow appearing on green in his universe... Or, well, he was the universe.

.... and last night! Robert and I and friends were walking down our little road and there he was with his Great Grandfather. They were standing in the patio of others of our friends. He waved me over to him, beamingly radiant!! Oh my heart. He took my hand and stared into my eyes with such love, with such a pure and huge smile on his face.....

MEANWHILE
...back at the beach: It is full moon so the waves are outrageous and wild right up to the beach so all of us are uttlerly absorbed, and in the end we are all happily exhausted with the riding of them and the tumbling in them.

...back at the house: Peter and Robert and David (Peter´s dad) are busily helping put up more cement posts with that 90 pound home'made ladder and its one pole precariously balanced to hold it in the air. From these new poles will emerge a carport and shade for the house.

And Robert got the electricity hooked up so we just hit a switch and there is Light. Next come the fridge, the juicer, the crockpot, and so on. The villagers always assume the first thing we will purchase is a television. Ummmm, not likely.

Robert gave me three beautiful fragrant rosebushes (now planted around the house) for my birthday, and all the other flowering plants from previous birthdays are in full bloom.

And the rains are beginning. The first rain was last night, getting us all up at 3 am to help Peter and David each get their tents (with no rain fly) under porch roofs (rooves).

And all that signals the fast approaching end of this journey. I will probably have one more Mexico entry before this blogspot reverts back to musings from whereever and whatever comes to me. We have maybe 10 days left... Maybe not even that. Maybe a week.

We are so HERE, so slowed down now, so laid back. It took a long time -- we hit a lot of bumps. But the waves and flowers and villagers kept combing our energies into a peaceful flow. It is a privilege to be here in our little salty place. Love to you all, whoever is out there.