In Southern Mexico

OAXACA – PART 1

 

People generally say just Oaxaca when really what is meant is Oaxaca, Oaxaca – the capital of the state of the same name.  (You can go to Wikipedia or numerous other sites to find basic information.)  We stayed a full week and visited most of the requisite tourist sights, several of which are classified as heritage sites by Mexico and the U.N.  Due to its historical importance, especially as the birthplace of Benito Juarez and the home of many of Mexico's indigenous peoples, Oaxaca is a tourist locale for Mexicans as much as it is for non-Mexicans.  But we were your basic tourists and took many pictures, a whole lot easier to do with a digital camera.  (However, we generally avoid taking too many pictures which professionals have already made into postcards.)   The 'Third Age' card, basically a discount card for folks over 60, that Rebecca obtained (after a bit of adventure), provided us free or reduced entry to several locations.  There are too many items to report about in a single issue of our newsletter, but Mrs.T covers several highlights below.  (She said she was about 'writ out' and hopes to finish up later.)

 

 

 

Well after the travel agent fiasco Dan began making our travel arrangements to Oaxaca.  He found a nice little bed and breakfast and booked our airline tickets.

 

Dan and I are both nervous travelers.  I don't like being around a lot of strangers and Dan does not like not being in control.  (Well, I like things to be organized –dt) We had previously experienced a near miss in the Mexico City airport when they kept changing our departure gate.  So as soon as we arrived Dan wanted me to find the gate.  I refused until after using the facilities.  We had two hours - plenty of time.  The flight was not listed on the board so I inquired at a gate and they told me to check back in 15 or 20 minutes.  Plenty of time to grab a sandwich, I thought.  Dan was not hungry and was pretty sure we would be fed on the plane. (!)(I just said it was a possibility. -dt) I ignored him and went and bought two club sandwiches.  Although Dan was not hungry he wolfed his right down.  Eventually the gate was on the board.  We got to the gate an hour early.  It was a small plane and they did give us a little bag of peanuts.

 

As we approached Oaxaca I asked Dan if that could be the airport.  He was unsure.  It was, one runway, and one terminal, but after all that was all we needed.  A collectivo (a little van taxi) took us to our B&B.  Oaxaca is a pretty big city which sprawls across a valley between the Sierra Norte and the Sierra Sur mountains. (Population close to 300000 –dt) There are no skyscrapers in the old downtown area, and it has the feeling of time past if you can ignore the ubiquitous cell phones.

 

Casa Ollin (http://www.oaxacabedandbreakfast.com/ ) was charming, the project of a slightly bemused ex-pat lawyer from California, John, and a competent Mexican tour guide, Judith.  We unpacked and traipsed down the hill in search of the zocalo (the main plaza).  Before we had gone more than a couple of blocks we ran into a peregrination (a Mexican parade, you may recall).  It was preceded by a boomer letting off Roman candles.  Then came Los Altos (this translates literally as the talls); they were dancing to the music of the children's band which followed them.  Talls are huge cloth figures of people that are about 10 feet tall and are maneuvered by one person inside.  I quite liked the talls!  After the band came a bunch of uniformed school children laughing and chanting who were escorted by a few resigned looking mothers and teachers.  There was a short space and the sequence repeated itself:  talls, band, kids.  After about six or eight schools the parade was over.  I inquired of another spectator and was told the parade was in honor of their schools.  (Then we went another block and saw a completely different set of schools.  –dt)

 

When we arrived at the zocalo a band was playing Cuban music and a lot of people, most of them older, were dancing on the square.  We soaked up the atmosphere while eating at one of the small open air restaurants.  People were hawking every sort of thing.  There were some very cute woven straw piggies.  The guy selling them had a noise maker that made pig noises.  I thought I probably needed one, but Dan did not think I did.  Families were strolling together.  Touristas were gawking and taking pictures.  On one side of the square was the cathedral and on the other was the old governor's palace (now government offices and a museum.  In front of it there were a couple of half hearted demonstrations going on.  One was about rights for indigenous people and one about women's rights.  Although I tend to be a bleeding heart liberal, it was hard for me to be too concerned when the demonstrators were calmly knitting, crocheting, and weaving baskets as they sat under their signs.  Around the square were trees, flowers, benches, and of course the loveliest of all were the Jacarandas trees which were covered with purple blooms. 

 

We wandered back looking at the grand stone churches along the way.  Lots of areas were enclosed in high stone walls.  This was the old section of town and by old I mean some of it was five centuries old.  The walls were entered through tall wooden doors.  When the doors were open, you could see they were made of heavy wooden planks 3 or 4 inches thick.  The doors had great iron spikes with roundels around them.  The outer walls varied from six inches to six feet thick.  These guys were ready for a siege!  Just before we arrived at the B&B we came upon a small park where lots of young people were spooning, as it were. I christened it the kissing park.

 

The next day we headed out to look at the museum of contemporary art.  This was in an old convent with beautiful arches, atriums, columns and so on.  The main exhibit was a disturbing concept piece about the impermanence of life.  It was interesting but not exactly cheerful.  We came to another exhibit which had something to do with a lot of naked people.  I did not get to try and figure it out because I was too busy beating Dan about the head and shoulders for making inappropriate comments.  (Just commenting on the wonderful art. –dt) There were also some really excellent photos here.

 

We went on a Tour of the Ethnobotanical Garden.   This was hidden behind one

stone wall.  It was in the compound of the old monastery of Santo Domingo.  This garden was only twelve years old but they had transplanted many mature plants and trees that were native to the state of Oaxaca.  We had an English speaking guide who explained both the traditional and the modern uses of many of these plants.   She also told us a lot of plant lore.  I highly recommend it for plant lovers. 

 

One Zapotec legend goes something like this:

 

At first there were only plants.  One day there was a big storm.  Lightning struck the top of the Kapok tree.  This made a big hole in the top of the tree.  Out of this hole, one by one climbed all of the animals, one male and one female of each.  Last of all out climbed the first man and the first woman.  This is why the Kapok tree is scared to our people.  It is because we remember that it is the Mother Tree, the Tree of Life.

 

In Mexico you often see folk crafts which feature the 'Tree of Life' motif.  I was aware that these trees always seemed to have horizontal branches.  As I stared at the Kapok trees in the garden I recognized the form.

 

The White Mountain, Monte Alban, was a main reason I wanted to visit Oaxaca.

This is an ancient Indian site.  It was first settled by the Olmecs, then later the

            site was appropriated by the Zapotecs.  After the Zapotecs left, the Mextecs used it as a ceremonial site.  I am fascinated by these ancient sites.  The Olmec was one of the earliest Mexican Civilizations.  They had writing and a calendar some 2500 years ago.  We knew Monte Alban would be exhausting.  (One of the French Canadian couples from the previous episode visited before us and filled us in a bit.  –dt)

 

            Monte Alban is a very large site about 7500ft (roughly 2300m) above sea level.  (Oaxaca itself is at altitude of about 5000ft (abut 1500m) –dt) So we determined to leave early and take it slow.  The van bus let us off at the parking area and we climbed up to the entrance.  Several guides were standing there evaluating the prospects.  One of them pasted a friendly smile on his face, murmured a claim on us to his cohorts and came to us to offer his services.  Our guide introduced himself by his Indian name which he told us translated as hungry coyote (hereafter known as Mr. C.).(I think it was laughing coyote –dt)  He told us he would give us a nice tour, very slow, not too many steps to climb.  Sounded good to me!

 

Climbing up we got a good look out over the valley below. I wondered why the Olmec would build their city so high.  Mr. C explained that at one time the valley had been a lake.  The ancient city had covered a wide area.  About 300,000 Olmec could attend ceremonial events at one time.  Mr. C who was descended from the Olmec was quick to point out that these never included human sacrifices. 

 

The time and energy it must have taken to create the intricately patterned sandstone buildings and carvings tells us something of the organization and dedication of this society.  Sandstone is easier to cut than, say, granite but it takes incredible control and patience.  For example, the Maya using a harder stone for their carved designs.  The Olmec formed multiple stone pieces and fit them together, dry!  As the Olmec script has not been deciphered there is a lot about this people we do not know.

 

The different tribal peoples of Mexico and their descendents can be identified by their physical characteristics as shown in their carvings.  Mr. C was a broad shouldered Olmec with a big nose.  Dan was named a possible Olmec because he shared these attributes.  My mere schmere nose proved I probably did not belong anywhere in pre-Columbian Mexico. (sigh!)  The differences in ruins show cultural differences too.  The Mayan ball courts were very large to accommodate a team sport which used a rubber ball.  The Olmex court had a lot of seating but the court itself was small.  Theirs was an individual contest with a pelo pelota, literally a hairball.  Such was the life with the jaguar people (Ha Ha!).

 

Of all the things we saw and did in Oaxaca my favorite was seeing the Tree of Tule.  This Monterey Cypress is the biggest tree in the world.  That is what they said anyway, and I believed it.  It is in no way the tallest tree or the oldest tree, although they do think it is over 2000 years old.  But having been overwhelmed by the sequoias, I assure you that two or three of their trunks could fit in the trunk of the Tree of Tule.  The other thing is with redwoods and sequoias the treetops are so high they seem remote.  With the Tree of Tule you could reach up and touch the branches hanging down.  There are, of course, signs telling you not to do this but, when I thought no one was looking, I held up one fingertip and for a moment the tree and I were connected.  I love the Tree of Tule.  (Check out http://www.sue-feathersandflowers.blogspot.com/ for 25 March 2011. –dt  (Happy B-day J))

 

 

Photos of this part of the trip are at:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/9151458@N07/sets/72157626351197450/

 

A note about last issue's photos:  You saw a couple of photos of some ceramic pieces.   These were some of the pieces made by Nick when he visited in December and left for us to glaze.  They came out quite nicely and we greatly appreciate them.

 

The season is about over and we will be back in the holler in a couple of weeks.  We will be seeing many of you in April.

 

Dan and Rebecca

http://www.casa-de-terrible.blogspot.com/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Getting There is Half the Fun

GOING TO OAXACA – Part I or

How do you get to Oaxaca?

 

 

Although our newsletter comes out irregularly, we average about one per month.  A few folks made inquiries about the lack of an epistle in February.  Well, we were originally scheduled to take a vacation to Oaxaca, Oaxaca, in southern Mexico in February.  As you will read below, there were some 'complications' with those arrangements and the newsletter muse was more than a little consternated.  In any case, we did manage to go to Oaxaca during the first week of March.  (After Mrs.T used a better travel agent.-dt)  For those of you who were hereabouts at the time, much of this will be old information.  But then you were able to enjoy (?) the events, frustrations, and discontent in real time.

 

 

 

I like to travel around Mexico.  I told Dan I thought we should go to Oaxaca this year.  Dan on the other hand likes to sit under the palapa reading a book. (I do some other things also.  And I do enjoy travelling. -dt)   I told him he could stay and I would go alone, but no he would go.  However this was my project and I had to make the arrangements.  This was a trick.  If anything went wrong (and there is always something, isn't there?), he planned on glaring at me and mumbling rude things under his breath.  Already he was planning to enjoy the trip at least a bit.  I must admit Dan does not discriminate.  If something goes wrong with plans he makes, he mumbles rude things to himself.  But I found a local travel agent in early February.  How wonderful!  This way there could be no mistakes because of my imperfect Spanish.  What a great idea - at least that is what I thought at the time.  Alas no!

 

It started out very well.  They called up pictures of hotels on their computer.  They also accessed the airline schedules.  The first hitch came with how I was going to pay for it.  I had been warned not to let out my credit card number in Mexico so I decided to pay cash.  I got a printed Itinerary and a receipt.  They would bring the tickets for the flights and the hotel reservations in a couple of days.   When they did not show up a couple of days later I called and they said they were having problems with the computer.  I could understand that.  The next time I called there were problems with the reorganization of the main office in Guadalajara. Then the airlines were reorganizing their files.  As the time of our scheduled departure approached I became more and more nervous.  Dan had begun to mumble.  (I had already been prompting her to call the agent. –dt)  Saturday two days before our scheduled Monday departure, I called and the boss was not there but the boy in the office said the boss would be coming in on Sunday to make sure things were in order and would bring the travel documents to our condo. Dan had checked the airline site and they did not show a reservation for us.  After several calls on Sunday before our scheduled departure the travel agent said he had to reschedule our departure for Wednesday.  But he assured us our reservations were made and we were all set for Wednesday.

 

At this point we were very suspicious.   The next day, Monday (the original scheduled departure day), Dan got on the computer and contacted the airline again.  We still had no reservations.  "What do you plan to do about this?!"  Dan asked me.  I told him I planned to walk downtown and talk to the travel agent in person.  When I got down there, the agent was not there.  There was only the young man who worked there.  He was very apologetic.  He called the agent who said he would bring us the tickets at 5 that afternoon.  I told him that was not OK.  Another phone call ensued and the agent said he would be there at 2pm.  About this time four VERY ANGRY French Canadians appeared.  They had booked tickets the month before but when they got to the airport the airlines would not honor their voucher because the agent had never actually paid for the tickets. (AARGH!!)  The young man confided that he had not been paid for a month either.  Things were not looking good.

 

The French Canadians - hereafter referred to as FCs - did not speak any Spanish but one of them spoke English.  After we conferred they went out and called the police.  The first policeman (There are very few female police officers. –dt) who came knew little English and no French and I was trying to translate.  Pretty soon an English-speaking cop appeared.  At this time after another phone call the agent came.  He promised to bring our money at 3 the next afternoon, even if he had to sell his truck.  One of the FCs remarked unsympathetically that she didn't care if he sold his house as long as they got their money back.  I felt the same.

 

Still unsatisfied but slightly more hopeful we went home to see what the morrow would bring.  The FCs picked me up and we all arrived at 3 but there was no agent.  The young man from the previous day was there and another agent who was trying to sell tickets to a bunch of Canadians.  I told them on no account should they give these guys any money.  So they left.  The lady agent was really angry but when I gave her my grumpy look she backed off.  The FCs went out and returned shortly with a different set of police.  One of them spoke English and we repeated our sad tale including the fact that the agent had promised to be there this day with the money.  At this point the lady agent started talking very fast in Spanish so I would not understand.

 

"What did she say?" I asked.  She had told the police that the agent never promised to bring us back our money.  As she had not been there the previous day she could not know this.  I told the police to ask the other employee and he confirmed that the agent had promised to bring our money back at three.  He also told them that the lady had not been there.  The police then turned on the lady and asked her why she was lying.  She immediately admitted she had not been there and knew nothing about it. (A small victory!)

 

The police called in another set of police (They travel in pairs in silver and red striped relatively new SUVs.) and we had to go through the whole thing again.  These police decided to call in a Fiscal which is something like a prosecuting attorney.  After much debate she seemed to agree that they could arrest the head travel agent for fraud.  It must have been a slow crime day in Bucerias because two more police vehicles showed up and were hanging out.  I felt that 8 policeman with huge guns were more that enough to subdue one travel agent. About this time the agent showed up and promised that he would pay us the next day without fail and then bolted out the door.  The FCs and I returned to our homes dissatisfied.  I think it was at this time Dan stopped mumbling and said right out loud that we probably would never see that money again and if I didn't get the money back we were not going to Oaxaca this year.  So in addition to being angry with the agent I was annoyed with Dan.

 

Dan was staying home leaving all of this for me to deal with aside from benefitting from his extensive advice of course.  This was probably for the best because he gets angrier and I would not have enjoyed visiting him in a Mexican jail.  At 10 the next morning the FCs met me at the Fiscal office. There was no agent with our money.  But equally irritating was the fact that the prosecuting attorney refused to file our complaint. Her idea was that we did not want to file a complaint because there would be a lot of paperwork involved and the case would not be solved for a long time.  (Probably true on both counts –dt)  She thought we should wait a few days and maybe the agent would pay us.  Except for the police, some of whom seemed very interested in arresting the agent, the Mexican legal system seemed to be based on the idea slow and sure wins the race.  (This is the same in the USA and it is very frustrating there too.)  The prosecutor did not have the travel agent's telephone number but perhaps there was a good reason the agent did not come with our money.  The FCs and I agreed there was a good reason, HE DID NOT WANT TO GIVE OUR MONEY BACK!!!  "But this is your lucky day!" I told the prosecutor, "Because I DO have his phone number."  The prosecutor, grumpy at having to do something useful swished away to call the travel agent.  He promised (no surprise here) to bring all our money that very evening at 7.  The prosecutor told us we must give him one more chance leaving the FCs and I very grumpy and the police unhappy also; they were in an arresting mood.

Back at the Fiscal office that evening we were not surprised to find no agent.  The prosecutor once again refused to file charges against him.  The agent had promised her to bring our money the next morning at ten.  Another lawyer approached the FCs and me and said, "I don't think this prosecutor is handling this very well.  If you would like, my friend and I can go and talk to the travel agent and explain he has to give your money back or go to jail. Would you like that?"  We all thought this was a great idea.  What we didn't understand was that this lawyer was not another prosecutor.  We had just hired a Mexican lawyer.

 

The next morning was very exciting.  About 8:30 the police came looking for me.  It turned out to be one of the English-speaking officers who wanted to encourage me to file a complaint and offered to help with both the reluctant prosecutor and the larcenous travel agent.  About 9 I got a call from the travel agent asking the exact amount he owed us and assuring me I would be paid that morning.  I assumed that he had been found by the police and the fear of God put into to him.  Well I was half right.

 

The FCs and I arrived at the Fiscal office shortly before ten.  The Two Mexican lawyers were there (I neglected to mention that one of them strongly resembled an OSU linebacker.) and they had collected all of our money.  "We did have to lean on him a little," one of them told me. I did not inquire further.  (I suspect they were 'leaning' on him at the moment he called and wanted to know the exact amount he owed. –dt) We signed a receipt and they gave us the money.  The thing we were not expecting was that the Mexican lawyers wanted a collection fee.  That is when we learned they were not part of the judicial system but independent attorneys.  (Ambulance chasers perhaps. –dt) They asked for15% I offered 5% and we settled on 10%.  Civil law is odd; you start out wanting justice and what is right but after a while it seems as if you will be satisfied to get almost whatever it is you want.  Judging by these standards, although perhaps a bit more basic, the Mexican legal system worked a lot better for me than my unfortunate experiences with the US legal system.

 

Also our new Mexican lawyer left me his name and phone number and told me if I ever had any other problems of any kind he would be glad to help me sort them out.  After I recovered the money Dan said he would make the arrangements for our trip to Oaxaca; that will be in Part II.  Here are a few teaser photos:

 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/9151458@N07/sets/72157626273013156/

 

(As a postscript:  We should note that we do not know if the travel agent was trying to take our money, if there were really problems at the office in Guadalajara, or if he was just incompetent.  The one thing in his favor is that he never tried to actually skip town. –dt)

 

 

Some announcements are in order.  First, many of you switched to daylight savings time already; here we will switch the first weekend in April so we may be more or fewer hours different from you.  Second, we have another vacation in the works for June; we will be travelling to Seattle for the Glass Art Society Conference and from there to Canada for a couple of weeks.  Those of you in that cold country up north will shortly be receiving an email explaining our itinerary.

 

Finally, our thoughts and prayers go out to the people of Japan.  We are very thankful our wonderful good friend KK is okay and safe.

 

Best wishes to all.  And may your spring begin soon.

 

Dan and Rebecca

www.casa-de-terrible.blogspot.com

Onward Christian Soldiers!

PILGRAMAGE

 

Those of you who read the last newsletter recall that Mrs.T participated in one of the Christmas posadas.  As you will read below she could not pass up an opportunity to participate in another traditional event, deciding to join in one of the peregrinations of our annual fiesta (about which we have written before); probably a one-time adventure. I may get her into the RCIA program yet.

 

Last year Bucerias also initiated an annual Chalk Walk/Street Fair held in another part of town for three days of the fiesta.  This year the event had more artists and food vendors and appeared to be a great success in raising funds for several of our local charities.  You will see some pictures from the event at our Flickr site.

 

Rebecca also managed a trip to the zoo with Ms. D.K. and Ms. S.S. from Casa Gardenia.   And she and the other ladies of Condos Jacarandas made an en masse shopping adventure to Vallarta; the city may never be the same.  Pictures of the events are also at the site.

 

We welcome several new readers from way up north to our distribution list.  We hope you enjoy these musings.  And for all of you, please let us know if you have another email or wish to be dropped from our list.  And of course feel free to comment to us or share this with others.  On to Mrs.T's story:

 

 

Every year for nine days in Bucerias in January is the fiesta to celebrate our patron saint, Our Lady of Peace.  Every morning and every evening there are peregrinations.  These are little pilgrimages or parades that start each day at a different colonia and wander through the town and end up at the church for mass.  I had always wanted to be in a peregrination.  This, I decided, was the year.  This was not from an excess of religious fervor, I was more like one of Chaucer's pilgrims - along for the ride.

 

There were two choices for our colonia - Colonia Dorado (and barrio San Francisco –dt); the morning peregrination which started at five in the morning - Have I mentioned that I am NOT a morning person? (Rarely sees sunrises –dt) - but started conveniently right behind our home, and the evening one which started at six in the evening but about a mile away. (Not that far, but a ways down the street. –dt) It was a hard choice.

 

After much thought, I decided to go with the early option.  Dan was quite willing to drag me out of bed at 4:30 and follow along taking my picture.  It was already a religious experience judging by my comment when he awoke me.  Have I mentioned that Dan is a morning person?  It is disgusting, I know, but he freely admits it. (Proudly –dt)  

 

When I arrived right on time there was no one there but two night watch men drinking beer.  After some questioning, which was a little confused considering my limited Spanish and somnambulant state, we concluded that they thought the peregrination was to start there soon.  The next person to arrive was a thin dark guy in a cowboy hat who was the official fireworks guy; we'll call him Boomer.  Boomer walks ahead of every peregrination setting off Roman candles every few minutes.  These are the fireworks that make a large BOOM but very little light.

 

The mariachi band appeared next, a few at a time.  These were young men, average age twenty-something, with matching shirts.  They stood around making warming up blats on their various instruments and smoking.  About this time Boomer let off a preparatory boom to get our attention.  This seemed to work because shortly thereafter a few more peregrinators appeared along with the rest of the band.

 

The leader seemed to be a thin lady in a white poncho.  She went over and spoke to Boomer and the band.  Boomer let off another blast and headed out.

"Vamanos!" called the leader and we were off at quite a good clip.  This was a good thing because the band started blaring out music and charged along behind.

 

These mariachis were perfect for a marching band: loud, fast, and rhythmic.  As far as tunefulness and sensitive expression, perhaps a little was lacking.  But you had to be impressed with their enthusiasm. As the peregrination continued I began to see the point of Boomer.  At each corner he let one off, and people would poke their heads out to wave, clap, make the sign of the cross, or what ever seemed appropriate to them.  And at each corner a couple more people joined us so that by the time we arrived at the church the original 8 or 10 had swelled to 40 or 50.

 

Father Chema was waiting to bless us as we processed into the church.  Our church is a small white adobe building.  The windows are open arches only partially covered by stained glass crosses.  The doves who nest in the rafters stuck their heads out to see what all the excitement was about and retreated to their nests (some above the altar –dt) with their heads under their wings.

 

Just in time too, because the mariachis had gotten themselves organized to the right side of the altar and began blasting out some many-versed religious song.

A few brave souls were singing along but most of us were too shaken to participate.  Fortunately before too long the song came to an end and it was time for mass.  The little church that had been about 1/3 full when we entered was now full.

 

The fortunate thing about Catholic masses is that if you are familiar with them it is pretty easy to follow along even in another language.  The unfortunate thing was that taking advantage of the relative quiet, I began to fall asleep.  Dan, who was now sitting beside me would poke me periodically (whether to draw my attention to the mass or simply to annoy me; I  am not sure) and one time he poked me too hard and I started to topple over onto the lady sitting next to me.  She politely righted me and I assured her I was okay. (Humph.  R fell of her own accord due to her state of sleepiness; I only poked her when she started to snore. –dt)

 

There is a part of mass where people can supply their own petitions.  Several of the petitions were for Father Chema.  I didn't quite understand them so I asked the lady next to me if he was sick.  We really like Father Chema and he has had health problems in the past.  He was okay she said, people were simply praying for him because they loved him.  I love him too; I told her that was why I asked.  Waking and mostly sleeping I muddled through the mass. (Father C's homily was even longer than usual; I thought we were in a catechism class –dt)

 

We came to the part where you give the hand of peace to the person next to you. When I turned I saw several ladies holding and hugging my neighbor and weeping.  As the mass continued I heard her sobbing quietly.  I reached over and held her with my arm and she leaned against my shoulder.  The mass was over and we were told to go in peace.  I hope that Our Lady of Peace can lend some measure of peace that passeth understanding to my neighbor.  We went home and I slept (Some more –dt).  Sometimes you find things you never knew you were looking for.

 

 

HAPPY LUNAR/ASIAN NEW YEAR!

 

Dan and Rebecca

www.casa-de-terrible.blogspot.com

 

Find pictures and a short video:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/9151458@N07/sets/72157625808441473/

 

 

 

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

'Tis the Season

 

We are between the holidays, at least US holidays, of Thanksgiving and New Year.  The later part of November and the first part of December were quite quiet here; except for Luis and Joannes we had the entire condo complex to ourselves – very tranquillo.  But we did have a couple of visitors.

 

Our first visitor was Flat Stanley.  Do you know him?  The Flat Stanley Project was begun by Dale Hubert, a 3^rd grade teacher in London, Ontario, Canada.  It is a good way to teach elementary school children about the world and its cultures. (www.flatstanley.com)  Flat Stanley was sent to us by our 2^nd grade friend Kelly of Katy, Texas.  Stanley had several adventures with us including a chili cook-off, boogie boarding, scuba diving, and Luche Libre.  We are not sharing everything here because Stanley is in the mail on his way back to Kelly and we do not want to spoil his return.

 

Our more loved visitor was our son Nicholas.  Nick was able to come down for about 10 days.  He did a lot of work on our laptop for which we are very grateful; it is running quite a bit better.  However, a main reason for his visit was to have some dental work.  He visited the dentist five times including a session on a Sunday that lasted about 9 hours!  Six root canals and crowns later and Nick has a much better mouth. (And a dental bill about half of what it would have been up north.) In between visits to the dentist Nick was able to throw some clay just around the corner at the Casa Morada studio of Bob and Anne Milling.  Nick thinks Dr. Adrian will appreciate the clay tooth once we have it glazed a nice off white before we leave.  (Maybe we should put a little cavity in it.)

 

Mrs. T has some thoughts about Christmas at our southern home:

 

 

The thing I miss most about Christmas in the North is the music. I know the songs on the radio, television, and public places can become annoying but I do miss them - everything from Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer to Silent Night.

 

Yesterday some people renting a neighboring condo were playing a Christmas tape out by the pool and I stopped, entranced.  That is not to say that Christmas in Mexico is without music.  Mexico is never without music.  But I often don't know the words.  I like to sing along, in spite of the people nearby, with whatever words I think are in the song.

 

Last week we had a pasada.  There were several pasadas in Bucerias with various sponsors.  Our neighborhood had one supported and organized by the Gudino family who owns our local minisuper Mary Paz.  The pasada reenacts the journey to Bethlehem.  A group of people (including Mrs. T –dt) with children dressed as Mary and Joseph (note Joseph's beard!)  parades from house to house singing,

 

"We are Mary and Joseph, we need a place to stay; we are very tired; we have come a long way."

 

The people in the house sing back,

"This house is full; we are sorry but there is no room for you."

 

The pasada sings back,

"But Mary's going to have a baby.  What are we to do?  Surely there is room for us."

 

The house people reply,

"We're sorry but there is no room; you must look elsewhere."

 

This continues until at the last house where the people respond,

"This house is very crowded but we will find room somewhere.  Mary and Joseph - come in, come in, it's very cold out there!"

 

The pasada enters the house and then THE FIESTA STARTS!  There is food and drink for everyone; clowns, games, songs, and of course piñatas.  What fun!!  The breaking of the piñatas starts with the youngest children.  Each child gets three or four hits before the club is passed to the next person.  (We left the festivities at this stage as it appeared the piñatas would not be broken until midnight. –dt)

 

We enjoy the different customs here.  The nacimiento - nativity (Nacimiento de Navidad -dt) - is an important part of most households.  Often they add more people and animals every year some of them related to the Bible story only loosely if at all.  I asked one of my Mexican friends about the elephant and he explained that when the three wise men came, one rode a horse, one rode a camel, and one rode an elephant.  I am very fond of elephants so I immediately started looking.  So far I have gotten the elephant and the camel but no horse.  Dan was somewhat skeptical of this explanation and thought it was just an excuse to buy another elephant. (I have quite a few)  But I looked at the nacimiento at church and sure enough there was an elephant with a wise man on its back.  (The Baby Jesus is not added until Christmas.  –dt)

 

Many of the Mexicans get their presents from the Wise Men on Twelfth Night but we are going to get ours on Christmas Eve.  I am not totally acculturated and not at all patient.  Perhaps there will be fireworks.  (Usually there are not until New Year's Eve.  –dt)

 

As Tiny Tim said on a long ago Christmas Day, "God Bless Us Every One!"

 

And a Happy New Year!

 

 

Dan and Rebecca

www.casa-de-terrible.blogspot.com

 

Some pictures:  http://www.flickr.com/photos/9151458@N07/sets/72157625530200113/

 

After a couple of weeks

MOVING TO OUR WINTER HOME – THIS AND THAT

 

We have moving our household, either north to south or south to north, down to a fairly good system.  It takes only 2 or 3 days to get things in order and in about a week we are back to being fully in place.  Moving north is a bit easier because we have a stocked freezer and pantry; no freezer here and only a few very well-wrapped pantry and cleaning items to carry over from year to year.  (We learned that bugs really like pasta.)  But there are always a few items and events needing attention.  Our second night we enjoyed strolling the first ArtWalk of the season.  Our refrigerator and computer went on the fritz.  The original refrigerator was a bit smallish and probably used when put in.  It has already been fixed a couple of times and was making a squealing noise like a fan bearing was about to go; R enjoyed hitting it a few times to make it stop.  We replaced it with a bigger, very quiet, more energy efficient make.  The computer is operating rather fragilely at the moment.  Its battery is dead and it needs more memory.  Fortunately Number One Genius Son will be visiting and might be kind enough to bring and install some bits and pieces to make it run up to speed.  Mrs. T reports on few adventures:

 

 

 

Well we arrived in Mexico after enduring the now usual indignations at various airports and began to settle in.  We went to buy supplies and I was looking for some shampoo that Dan would like.  Last year he complained that the brand I bought smelled too floral.  Here I was, unscrewing the tops and sniffing various bottles.  I finally found one I thought would be OK.  Dan remarked that it was a men's brand.   Good, I thought to myself, you can't complain about that.  Well, no.  Dan seemed to have no complaints, a very unusual situation.  (Hmpff. –dt) However, when I took a shower I came out smelling like men's aftershave!  (She was warned when she purchased it. –dt) This was unacceptable.  Dan said he didn't mind but it was clear to me we were going to be a two shampoo family.  Well after another shopping trip I came back with a shampoo with honey and wheat germ conditioner so now if I smell like something I suppose it must be Honey Nut Cheerios.  (My bottle should last a long, long time. –dt)

 

The beach is very clean this year.  The unusually heavy flooding at the end of August made kind of a dip in the beach before you reach the water.  However the new shape is very nice for boogie boarding.  I had an extra dive skin so I decided to try wearing it when I went boogie boarding this year.  A dive skin is a very thin Lycra dive suit; I bought mine from Dive Goddess.  It is a yellow and rainbow print and I have received many comments when I wear it, but I wear it anyway.  (Who knows what the fish think. –dt)  When I was boogie boarding I had a small audience looking on with downright awe to see a fat old lady in what might be perceived as yellow rainbow long johns.  I couldn't hear the comments but I can't help thinking they were approving.  However that may be, I plan to continue wearing the dive skin; I will tell you an important secret:  I got no sand in the usual places.  (You ladies should know where I mean.)  Also the dive skin kept me nicely warm and protected from sand scrapes and sun burn.

 

The flooding took out one of the main highway bridges to Bucerias (And most points north of Vallarta; the bridge is at the border of the states of Jalisco and Nayarit over the Rio Ameca. -dt)   This has caused traffic tie ups as two lanes need to merge into one to go over the one remaining bridge. (One bridge is handling traffic in both directions. –dt)  Congestion is especially bad at rush hours as I found out as I travelled by taxi to Puerto Vallarta the morning of my first scuba diving outing.  As we approached the merge point the driver turned to me and said, "Traffic bad this morning; we go a fast way.  Okay?"

 

"Sure," I replied.  I was all for taking a little shortcut.  So we turned off the main street and started down some back roads.  I was OK with this but when we turned onto a dirt track I started getting a little nervous.  I remembered warnings saying never to allow taxi drivers to take you to isolated areas.  When I peeked anxiously ahead I saw two other taxies bouncing down the dirt track ahead of us.  Well I thought philosophically, if I have been kidnapped I have company, but probably I'm safe.  Sure enough eventually we merged onto a main road and slid into the line of traffic.   As we came to the merge point with the highway a short while later, I looked ahead and saw a police man standing between two lanes directing traffic.  "Boy is he brave,' I thought.  But when we came nearer I saw a soldier with a machine gun standing right behind him.  I have never seen traffic merge so smoothly.

 

I have been painting quite a bit since we got here.  Nora, my teacher in Philo, said I should try to paint at least an hour every day and I have done just about that.  (Nora Daniel; www.noradaniel.com ; she has a show upcoming soon at the Zanesville Museum of Art –dt)  I am still working on my first picture, a palm tree with an iguana.  (I call it "The iguana that ate the condo."  -dt)   I work on it a lot at night when I can't sleep.  I am using the tree outside our patio as a model.  Nora has really helped me; I can tell because I look at things differently.  The thing is, every time I look at my painting and think what needs work, I see several things I would not have seen before.  Hopefully one day I'll look at it and say nothing.  (See the artist at work and the finished painting.  –dt)

 

Last weekend we had our annual condo association meeting of the owners.  Dan, as El Presidente, conducted the meeting.  I never thought I'd say this, but I was amazed at his patience. (I am not known for this. –dt) The meeting lasted SIX HOURS!  But in the end we pretty much reached a consensus and were working well at making decisions.  Everyone's opinions were heard and respected.  (Thank you, everyone!  –dt)  A lighter moment was when Luis was telling us how destructive the large iguanas could be to the roof and shortly thereafter the attendees deserted the tables to run off and photograph a large iguana ambling along the wall.  This is life in Mexico; full of sunshine and conundrums. 

 

 

We had another iguana incident; a juvenile iguana came to the ground either on its own or by Gemon (?sp)  the condo cat.  In any case it created quite a stir with Lucy, the condo dog.  As you will see in the pictures, the cat thought the iguana was an amusing toy.  We did not watch until the finale, but it is quite likely the iguana escaped.  Some of you may recall that if they can make it, they will head for the swimming pool to evade their enemies.

 

Here are a few pictures to flesh out some of this story.  As most of you know, Mrs. T could be called the tree lady.  So when she is out and about pictures of trees often come back.  Also, those of you with digital cameras know that they now all have a video feature.  I accidentally took a very short video of Mrs. T taking tree or iguana pictures.

 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/9151458@N07/sets/72157625321853263/

 

We hope all is well in your part of the world.

Dan and Rebecca

www.casa-de-terrible.blogspot.com

 

THERE THEY GO!

A GREAT RACE

 

It has been a bit quiet in the holler; just the usual stuff:  shopping (often at our plane-Jane farmers markets), eating, and other normal activities.  Oh, we have had a couple of First Fridays (Zanesville's monthly art walk), the Muskingum County Fair, and we had the Rib Fest which is quite nice.  R has been planting and painting.  And we have had a few visitors.  But on the last weekend of August we had a rather special event in which we lent a hand, or rather our land.  Mrs. T has a brief story about it:

 

 

 

Indianapolis has nothing on us!  Neither does Talladega (I hope I spelled that right).  We have our own private race.  It happened like this.  Our neighbor, Jamey is friends with Craig (the plumber) who is the head of a local bike club.  And so they prevailed upon us to allow them to use part of our property for a dirt bike rally.  We agreed as long as they promised not to make a mess. (And they did not.)   Most of these riders are professionals; not professional dirt bikers, but professionals in their day jobs.

 

Jamey went through with his Bobcat and cleared out several old logging roads on both his and our properties.  Then the race managers went through the weekend before the event and fastened little orange arrow signs to mark the trails and we were all set.  (They came through the weekend after and took down the signs.)

 

When the big day came we wandered down our driveway and set ourselves up to watch.  We had chairs and sunscreen.  We had cameras and Dan had his tripod.  We had drinks and ice.  Of course I did not forget to bring popcorn.

 

VROOMM!!  VROOMM!!

Here they came.  It was kind of exciting although I generally don't go in for that kind of thing.  The riders were very friendly.  Since we were on a long straight stretch just before going up the hill to the ridge behind our house, many waved at us and several did wheelies. Some of them even yelled, "Look Ma; No Hands!"  A few even stopped; they were from all over, even from out-of-state.  There were lots and lots of them (200?).  One of them took a wrong turn and tried to come down the driveway to the house.  But we soon got him back on course.  Another one had a flat tire but Dan took him to the garage and filled his tire with air from our compressor.  Off he went.  We watched for a couple of hours until almost the last one came through and it was over for our section.  We were about miles 68 through 70 of the total 90 or so.

 

VROOMM!!  VROOMM!!

 

That was fun.

 

(Some of you know that in the past we have officiated at professional automobile rallies and have participated in a few amateur events.)

 

Here are a few representative pictures - we have whittled them down - from the exciting event.  A couple of bonus pictures of Slinky the snake are here as well.

 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/9151458@N07/sets/72157624783490519/

 

The weather here has turned to fall temperatures and we are thinking about the warm clime at the condo.  We will be there in about two months.

 

Hope all is well with you.  Come down and see the fall foliage in a few weeks as it turns to autumn hues.

 

Dan and Rebecca

www.casa-de-terrible.blogspot.com

 

 

Critters

Creature Sightings

 

The Muse has been off gallivanting about the country.  Around the 4^th of July holiday she went to Philadelphia to meet Nick for a visit to the Barnes Collection   (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barnes_Foundation), Longwood Gardens (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Longwood_Gardens), and other sites in the area.  Mrs. T had a relatively good time; you can all easily imagine her in one of the premier gardens in the US.  She returned for barely a week and then left again for Idaho to visit sisters Rita and Ruth.  The featured event there was the birth of a grandson to Rita's son and his wife.  Again, it will be left to your imagination as to the behavior of three grandmotherly types.

 

Somehow we also managed to entertain visits from friends John, Judy and Ethan, and then later from some of R's plant buddies Rebecca, aka Mouse, Kim and her daughters.  Mrs. T provides some of the highlights of those visits below.

 

 

 

Some of our friends have inquired about Stinky, the Stinkpot Turtle who lived in our pond when we first built it.  Alas, he is gone.  No, not dead as far as I know; he just wandered away.  Dan supposes he went in search of turtle companionship.  However we do have a new turtle whom I have named Sinky.

 

Sinky just appeared one day.  I have not been able to ascertain what type of turtle he may be.  My best guess is possibly a soft shelled turtle.  Whenever I try to creep close to get a good look at him he sinks slowly to the bottom of the pond, hence his name.  I have not seen him recently but one of our guests reported seeing him eating fish food; when they approached for a better look, he sank.  Sinky is not quite as big as Stinky, perhaps about 7 or 8 inches in diameter.  He certainly is not as social but still it is nice to catch the occasional glimpse.

 

One of our other pond denizens Slinky is a bit more disconcerting.  Slinky is a water snake. Slinky is quite small, about as big around as a pencil and perhaps a foot or so long.   Much to my chagrin I have gotten several good looks at him.  I think he is a Kirkland Water Snake.  His one redeeming quality is that I seem to make him just as nervous as he makes me.  Whenever he sees me he swims frantically away.  I know he could not possibly hurt me and is not poisonous but I just can not feel too fond of Slinky.  Dan, of course, is continually saying silly things such as, "Snakes are our friends."  (Some of you may recall our previous encounter with a black snake; they are also our friends. –dt)  I think this probably says more about Dan and his friends than it does about any social relationships I have or ever will have with these reptiles.

 

One day I found a cast off Slinky skin.  I put it aside too keep for some friends who were coming for a visit, knowing boys were fond of such things.  I was surprised when Ethan (our young friend) found another Slinky skin by the pond.  Ethan took both of the skins home with glee.  Could there be two Slinkys?  Alas yes. 

 

A couple of weekends later some of my plant-lover friends came to visit.  Rebecca (this is not me but another Rebecca) brought me a couple of water lilies and volunteered to plant them for me.  She was hip deep, trying to position one perfectly when suddenly she said, "It's a snake!"

 

"Get out, get out!!" I urged.

 

"It's OK; it doesn't bother me," she bravely replied.

 

"Well, OK if you're sure," I replied realizing who would have to get in the pond to plant the things with a scary snaklet if my friend Rebecca did not.

 

"Oh no, now if it were a spider that would be different," she blithely replied.  (I'm scared of spiders too.)

 

As we watched, Slinky approached Rebecca cautiously and looked the situation over.  Then he swam away.  He is curious, I thought.  He is trying to see what she is doing.  Rebecca resumed planting and a moment later another Slinky approached from the opposite end of the pond.  He looked at the new plant and left.  After one more inspection visit I was forced to conclude we have not one but at least three shy but curious little Slinky snakes.

 

Of course we have the usual deer, groundhogs, and wild turkeys wandering through.  But the other day Dan spied some new and different critters.  Yes trotting down our driveway were a couple of porkers.  They were not sociable and scooted off when he tried to approach.  Investigation proved that these were escapees from our neighbor.   And after he was notified we have seen no more of them.  (We will probably be buying half a hog later this year. –dt) There is supposed to be a problem with wild hogs in the area but we, thankfully, have seen none of those.  (Hunters in Ohio are allowed to shoot any wild boars they see; no permit is required. –dt)

 

I did see a beautiful red fox earlier in the year. Also, as this has been a very warm summer, we have also seen a lot of little salmanders scurrying around.  Alas no bats have taken up residence in our bat box.

 

This in brief is the wildlife report from the Terrible Wildlife Preserve.  If you urban dwellers visit you may also see something a bit out-of-the-ordinary; no promises however.

 

Hope you all are enjoying your summer weather, probably hotter than normal for most of you.

 

Dan and Rebecca

www.casa-de-terrible.blogspot.com