Women's Lives, Pt. 2

(I seem to have lost some text from my last posting, as I was shuffling around the photos. I'll try to rewrite it here, and include descriptions of the photos from the 4/4/06 post.)

As thousands gather today in downtown Washington, DC, to rally in support of an overhaul of US immigration policy, I think of all the women who remain behind in Mexico while their men head north to work. Missing their husbands, sons, fathers, brothers, they tend children and elders, run family businesses, and struggle to keep food on the table in an increasingly globilized economy that does little to benefit them.

On a historical note, while in San Miguel de Allende on International Women's Day, I heard a lecture on Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz, the 17th century feminist nun who is pictured below on the 200-peso note. Sponsored by PEN International, which defends writers who are imprisoned or under attack for their work, the author Mamie Spiegel described the controversial life of this early woman-of-letters. Sor Juana was a widely-read scholar and author of plays, sonnets, carols and ballads that were enjoyed throughout Colonial Mexico and Europe at the time. Initially protected from church and state authorities by her close friendship with the wife of the Viceroy of New Spain, Sor Juana held regular salons with prominent scientists, theologians and philosphers. All this from behind the grill of her convent walls! She amassed a huge library (pictured behind her on the peso note), but became under increasing pressure from church authorities to cease writing and resume a life more "appropriate" to a woman religious. Her own confessor, a priest with close ties to the Spanish Inquisition, eventually pressured her into a "confession" where she supposidly recanted her heretical views that women should read books and write. However, recent research has uncovered that she went on to collect a second sizeable library and kept writing until her death in 1695. She continues to be an important icon in terms of Mexican women's self-identity, one whose historical record and evolving popular lore is hotly debated.

Next is a photo of Gina, our host in Puerto Escondido, as she introduces a group of us to her friend and local "curadera" (healer and herbalist). The woman's shop was filled to the ceilings with bags of dried herbs, bottles, boxes and potions (including flasks of "Lydia "Pinkam's" tonic), devotional pictures and statues ranging from Jesus and Mary, to the Buddha and various Hindu gods and goddesses. "Local people come here first, because it costs less than the hospital," explained Gina. With a sly wink, the curadera handed Chris and me herb tea bags for increased feminine strenth and virility (respectively).

The two young women in the market are cutting up "nopales" (cactus), a common staple of most Mexican diets. We had them for breakfast, stewed in a yummy sauce and eatten alongside a pile of rich black beans.

And finally, a picture of women in San Miguel de las Casas (in Guanajuato), washing their clothing in the outdoor "Lavenderia." Fed by underground springs, the washing place used to be the site of communal bathing pools in a town park. This is considered a quaint site by the local gringa women, and much photographed. I found it dismaying to see these women having to deal with mounds of clothing, which they will have to lug home heavy and wet, in a part of town filled with fancy homes and B and B's. The accessibility of clean running water in people's homes, especially here in the high desert, is an ongoing problem.

-ASG

Women's Lives, Pt. I

These photos of women I have encountered in Mexico are but a few of the images that fill my mind's eye. I remember us passing Mayan women carrying huge loads of firewood along the mountain roads in Chiapas, shapely young executives toting briefcases down the crowded hallways of the Mexico City airport, the teenager in the small tortilla store pulling hot tortillas off the machine and laughingly waving away my pesos when I only ordered half-a-dozen, the university girls with numerous piercings and low-slung tight pants stridding down the streets of Guanajuato, the tiny elderly street vendor in Puerto Escondido who carried a pile of wrapped hammocks on her head, the enterprising jeweler at her art opening in San Miguel fashioning extravagent necklaces for the gringa women to buy, a mother with children praying in front of the Mexico City bus station altar to the Virgin of Guadalupe, a mother in mini-skirt driving a motor scooter with her grinning grade school age daughter in school uniform hanging on the back, the gal on the corner selling fresh fruit and green mangoes carved like flowers, the very young girls begging me to buy their woven braclettes on the central Jardin in San Cristobal, the preteens giggling at the boys during a long church service in Amatenango while their mothers solemnly arrange flowers on the altar....

-ASG

Wow....Guanajuato

We decided to make a quick dash on the bus yesterday over to this small university town nearby. Although we didn't trek up into the hills, this is where some of the most productive silver mines in the world were. A lot of silver. And all the Euros that pocketed that plata built a very cool town here. Lots of German and Italian architecture that was quite lovely to look at.
We went to Diego Riveras birthplace and saw a very diverse collection of work, (no fotos please) and another museum with the mask collection you see a couple of samples of.
The flan on Annie's plate with lunch was almost as good as the culinary art that accompanied it!
I could just go on and on here, and as usual, the history is slithering all around your feet. We've read some fabulous books to fill in the details ( including a wonderful interpretation of Alexander Von Humboldt's "Cosmos", written by a local author) and ...........it's just more than a BLOG CAN HOLD! Thank you Jesus! Thank you Moctezuma! Thank you Malinche!
Who has even heard of Malinche? I'm quite sure my wife will tell you.

The Spring Equinox

Huge crowds filled the town square here in San Miguel de Allende, as hundreds of children marched through the streets welcoming Spring. Delighted parents and tourists lined the central Jarin, snapping photos and getting showered with confetti, as costumed classes of elementary school age butterflies, rabbits, lions, jaguars, princesses, soldiers and turtles paraded by under the hot sun. I thought of our annual Pacific Grove (CA) "Butterfly Parade" and the years Nic and Cella joined their classes as '49er miners, pioneer girls, sea otters, jellyfish, Plains Indians. And the kindergardeners were always butterflies, as we welcomed the migrating monarchs back each year to the PG pines.

The first day of spring, when night and day are finally on equal footing again, is a big deal here in Mexico. Thousands of people gathered at dawn down south near Mexico City, climbing the towering Pyramid of the Sun at ancient site of Teotihuacan, dressed in white to receive the "special energy" transmited on that day. Others travel to Chichen Itza, the Mayan ruins on the Yucatan, to watch a giant serpent-shaped shadow slither down the Temple of Kukulkan at daybreak.

It also happened to be the 200th anniversary of Mexican reformist president Benito Juarez, the only full-blooded Indian to ever rule Mexico. His presidency is viewed with much controversy at this point, since his dismantling of the traditional system of communal lands (supposidly to help incorporate the Indians into modern Mexico life) actually made them more vulnerable to exploitation. One Mexican historian has written that "of the whites who determined the history of the country, Juarez was the whitest of them all." Nevertheless, San Miguel was crammed with families from all over the region on Monday, celebrating a noisy 3-day weekend in his honor. We read the news of the upcoming summer presidential election with interest, and wonder who will be next to lead this complex nation....

-ASG

S. Miguel con Cella

We're having a lovely, relaxing, intimate time with our daughter. Ahhh. Photos tell. Cuban music on the Jardin. Our friends from Grand Marais. And fabulous storm weather. This is unusual ( changes all over huh?) with dust storms ... it is 2 months before the rainy season. Lightening. Stuff blowing over. Giggling. Probably more ominous then we know. And certainly tough for the "local" folk downwind, trying to do business and have a life amidst the flying debris and exhaust.

Fat Tuesday in Amantenango

As the afternoon in Amantenango progressed, the local pre-Lenten "Mardi Gras" (Fat Tuesday) celebrations began. First photo is of the town band (with brass, guitars, drums) playing for a group of young men who are dresssed in masks (a few in dresses and heels, in drag) who shuffled around the town square. As we were gathered under one of the zocalo trees, I heard noises up in the branches and spotted a few little boys who were giggling and watching us. I made some of my famous monkey noises, which brought more laughter and monkey hoots from the tree branches, and was soon surrounded by a gaggle of curious boys who peppered us with questions about "how do you say in English...?" and who proceeded to follow us as we walked through the town.

We were invited up the street where a house ceremony had begun, in which older men and women slowly shuffled upon a pine needle strewn floor of the patio, "reverencing the ground" to the sounds of clay flute, guitar and percussion instruments. Soon several men slowly gathered up the tall processional flags, crossed themselves and handed young boys giant stalks of corn, banana palm and sugar cane. Women carried burning "cobal" inscence and fresh flowers, and the procession moved out into the street. We followed quietly behind, and sat in the back pews as the women filled the altar spaces with the flowers, candles were placed on the floor and lit, and prayers were sung in the gathering twilight.

Mid-way through this simple liturgy inside the sanctuary, the town band and the costumed dancers appeared at the open door, playing and laughing loudly. The young girls in the pews ahead of us turned in excitement; the older women cast disapproving looks; the band played some more and then drifted off onto the zocolo. All the time, the prayers and singing continued within the sanctuary. "Sacred" and "profane" all co-mingling together, and so the Season of Lent begins.

We traveled by taxi, plane, bus, another taxi the next day, to arrive in San Miguel de Allende after dark. We found this beautiful colonial city, with it's brightly lit cathedrals and old buildings, to be filled with people observing the holy day of Ash Wednesday. People filled the center town square (El Jardin), most with carefully drawn black crosses on their foreheads. No simple ash-smudges here. People "wear" their faith and observances openly and without guile in this town, as families and couples, old people, young people, strolled through the warm evening air together.

-ASG

Minnesotans in Amantenango

Our last day in Chiapas began with breakfast at the Center for Intercultural Investigation in San Cristobal, where we finally met up with the small group from the First Congregational (UCC) Church of Grand Marais (pictured with me and Chris are Dave, Ben, Nancy and Pastor Peter). It was the day before Lent began, and the night before had been filled with noisey firecrackers throughout the city. A young German Swiss staff woman from the Center sat with us and described her work with the Center's Gender Program, which provides faith-based empowerment workshops and groups for local women on communication skills and self-esteem. Her assignment is to connect with the women through building relationships with their evangelical pastors (who refuse to address issues of women's health and domestic violence through the more secular feminist organizations in the city). The Center is one of the few progressive Chrisitan organizations working at these kinds of interfaith and social justice projects in the city, and has been the point of connection for the GM church on their trips to Chiapas.

Although our time with the Grand Marais group only overlapped one day, instead of the week that we had hoped for, it gave Chris and me a taste of the mission partnerships of our denomination and our new GM congregation in this region. The UCC initially got involved in this part of Mexico by helping with refugees fleeing the Guatemalan civil war in the 1980's, and later bridging the expanding hostile gulf between the Catholic Mayan congregations and the burgeoning evangelical Protestant churches.

The Grand Marais church has been coming down here for about six years now, and has developed a close relationship with the Catholic Mayan parish in Amantenango, which lies about an hour's drive outside of San Cristobal. We piled in a van and headed out to this small town, which is known for its strong indegenous Mayan culture and colorful pottery (see photo of clay roosters). Several years ago, the GM church contributed funds to help build the community room you see in the third photo. Peter also showed me a duffle bag filled with this year's contribution of dozens of hand-knit wool sweaters from the knitter's in our congregation, which are appreciated by the local children in the cool mountainous climate.

The local priest, Padre Carlo, cooked us a feast of Italian pasta (he is on "loan" from his dicoese in Tuscany!), tortillas, potatoes, and roasted chicken, and described to us (in Spanish/Italian/English) the ceremony of flowering the church sanctuary that was to be held later that afternoon. Again, in the statues and rituals in the church, we witnessed the "veneer" of Catholicism over the deep flow of Mayan spirituality and tradition.

-ASG

San Miguel hot spots

Pretty deserty here folks. 6500 feet. Cactus. Ever been to New Mexico? But the little town is Very Spanish (Neo-Classical) with cobblestone streets , many galleries and shops and all lit at night, church spires up into the darkness. Rooftop bars (dos por uno Mojitos los Martes, Danny) and a nice trio (with drummer on Caja...very tasty) played for us "St. Thomas"!
But the most fun has been (sorry)... the wilderness! The cacti you see is at a very quiet and lovely preserve outside of town called El Charco. A dammed wetlands, once used a water wheel to grind corn and textiles, is now full of birds and walking paths. And we went out to the local hot mineral baths. A fun mixture of Euros and families and you see the "cavern" with Annie, that thing goes back in for 100 feet to an inner sanctum with a cascade of hot water you can sit under. Gonna take Marcella out there with a gang we know here from the Grand Marais area. They winter here (from Finland, MN. ) and manage organicconsumers.org. A fun bunch.
Well, gotta go...it's the start of third annual Cuban Festival with a band on the Jardin.

C

Chris' 55th Birthday, Part 2

We finally arrived at "Parque Nacional Palenque" in the early afternoon and, along with a couple from Rome, engaged an English and Italian speaking guide. Unfortunately, the guide's commentary became increasingly dogmatic and surly as we climbed up and down the steep steps of the ruins, and he insistantly contended that all other guidebooks/guides were inaccurate and that he had THE novel perspective on the Mayans. Basically, he argued that there was no indigenous Mayan race, and that this civilization created nothing new because it was a mix of peoples from China, the African continent, Egypt, India, Leif Erikson's decendents...not to mention a few hints of possible extra-terresterials. As the rain drizzle turned into a down-pour, he became more adament, briskly scampering up the slick stone steps and pointing-out architectural and sculptural elements to "prove" his thesis. Exhausted and drenched by this point, the four of us offered some mildly skeptical comments (ASG: "hmmm....guess I will have to read up a bit on this topic") and were met with his turned back and a sulking "tour is over." And yet, the enormity and ancientness of this solemn place was certainly evident, and Chris and I stood quietly at one point trying to imaginine how of the 12 or so unearthed temples and buildings, there could still be over 1400 structures still "undiscovered" under the jungle cover. Mayans inhabited this site probably as early as 300 BCE, as a huge city that was a ceremonial center for the high priests, and political and trade center spreading over miles and miles, probably peaking at 600-700 CE. The local Mayans here today speak Tzeltal, and some translate Palenque to mean "chief town or capital of People of the Snake." Snakes were reverenced as sacred in Mayan tradition, which explains in part why early Spanish Catholic depictions of the Virgin Mary have her in domination over these natural elements as she stands on a crescent moon (also reverenced by the Mayans) which rests upon a wriggling snake.

The first photo you see in this blog is Chris and me standing at the top of Temple 13 (with the "Palace" in background) which has recently received archaeological attention due to the discovery of an inner burial site of a richly adorned man. The photo of the skull is an indication that "Day of the Dead" celebrations are pre-Christian traditions that took on the veneer of "All Saints' Day," death being considered by Mayan people's as the culmination of one's life (not a negative "ending") as one transition to another manisfestation. The final photo is of unreadable symbols; scholars have yet to decifer their meaning. A mysterious, haunting place, filled with a teaming sense of complex peoples and purposes. It was a long van ride home, twisting along mountain roads in rain and thick fog, arriving down into the warm and lively San Cristobal streets filled with today's Mayan people.

-ASG

Chris' 55th Birthday, Part 1

Having recovered from fever and aches of several days, Chris valiently joined me on the trek to the Mayan ruins of Palenque. We left right after dawn, on a 12 passanger van, climbing through dry rolling hills of tall pine and scrub oak and then into rain (for the rest of the journey) of the lush rainforest itself high in the mountains. Passing through small villages and larger towns, filled with small concrete houses and tiny stores along the road selling the ever-present sodas, chips, packaged sweets (another of our finer USA exports...), we spotted numerous murals and references both to the EZLN (Zapatistas) and to Che Quevarra. This is the region where the EZLN has received alot of local support, as they have challenged government forces to return ancestral lands to the indigenous Mayan people here. Some of these towns up here have actually succeded from the state and are providing their own schools, electricity, water, etc. We first stopped at a popular site called "Aqua Azul" to view the "Blue Waters." Well, as you can see from the first photo of the Birthday Guy, that day it was "Aqua Caffe con Leche" due to the large amount of rain recently. We spotted one of the jungle "ceiba" trees, from which the Mayan people (up to the present) construct their large green/blue/aqua colored crosses (see previous blog of cross in Chamula). These crosses are often in front of homes and always in front of Chiapas region Catholic churches, representing the complex Mayan symbolism that the people incorporated into their veneer of the imposed Catholicism after the Conquest. The next photos of "banos" for "caballeros y damas" next to the satillite dish seems to summarize much of what I see throughout the Chiapas region....rustic and poor mixing with new and modern. As we drove home that night, winding forever on the rain splattered dark road filled with huge trucks, speeding cabs, small local buses, big tourist buses, I could see the blue-grey glow of televisions from inside even the most modest dwellings and small stores. And to think they are watching stations from the States which, to me, show us in our most consumptive and unreflective light. The final photo is Chris and a young couple who traveled with us that day, at the "Casaba de Misol Ha," high falls which plummet into a large pool below. Helen and Matt are from the UK, and have just finished a year in Guatemala City and surrounds, working for an NGO called "Peace Brigade." Serving with this human rights watch group, they would be assigned to accompany a variety local community activists and politicians whose lives had been threatened by the government (or sometimes by guerrilla forces), thereby assuring local embassy and national attention to the harassment and possible imprisionment/injury/death. Helen and Matt talked about how many more Europeans travel to Guatemala and Chiapas than North Americans, simply because they are more aware of and in simpathy with the Zapatistas. "We are in solidarity with them and their cause," remarked Helen. They were headed next to the Yucatan and then Cuba (which one can do on a UK passport.....but not one from USA at this point). I write this now from San Miguel de Allende, where we will be for the next 6 weeks. It's always great to hear responses to our blog postings, and we send you all our warm regards....

-ASG

WiFi=fotos!

One never knows exactly what order these will appear but I will describe briefly and you put together, comprendes?
The turgoise cross covered with fresh greens for upcoming fiesta in San Juan Chamula was an early Mayan symbol before the Spanish arrived. Must have really pissed them off to see it desecrated with plants and stuff.
You see the church I told you about, and some detail of how the indigenous folk have painted it.
Sunset on the streets of San Cristobal. Looking into our hotel courtyard with a cool mural map of Chiapas and Guatemala.
Other crosses and funny looking saint.
A solid amber Marimba (complete with insectos. Think about Jurrassic (sp) Park) at the Museo del Ambar.
So. We're both feeling like we will try the 6am, 4 hour bus ride tomorrow for Palenque. It is my 55th birthday. I believe San Cristobal is the patron saint of travelers among other cositas.

C

Church

We have visited a bunch of churches over the years, Christian and otherwise, but our trek into the "country" from "town" the other day takes the cake. We spent a good hour with a very knowledgable guide walking up one "road" just taking it all in as he told us about the local idigenous people.
It is notable to mention here that no photos may be taken of the people themselves, and that coincidentally we cannot find any WiFi signal to upload what photos we do have. We will post some at some point in the future.
Of course you hear about all the incredible churches of Mexico, of all sizes and shapes, but the bright sunlight leaves you quite blind as you walk into this (one and only) church in Chamula. It is an old Spanish church on the outside so you are umprepared for what you see when your eyes adjust. First, the light of THOUSANDS of candles...on the floor. No pews. The entire, rather dark interior quite smoky with incense. Ancient banners hang from the ceiling, and after a moment, you hear a low chanting sound of prayer. Many families are on the floor (covered with fresh pine needles), with their candles, rum, coca-cola (as holy water) and maybe a chicken to have it´s neck rung in the ceremony. You walk around in quiet awe, and you see the vestiges of the Catholic church, pushed off to line the walls with. The many saints in their wood and glass boxes symbolize other deities now. The priest comes to town in once in awhile for baptisms but otherwise....
I could go on with details but I think I´ll stop here. Anne and I were in tears more than once later in the day.
Yesterday I had a fever and though I felt better today, I´m still not quite right this evening. We have cancelled a 4 hour bus ride (in a van with no bathroom)for tomorrow and hope to maybe do it on my birthday on Monday.

C

From Chiapas...

We arrived in San Cristobal de las Casas, a town at about 7700 ft in the center of the state of Chiapas, after flight to Tuxla Gutierrez and taxi through the winding mountain roads. Soon after leaving the large city of Tuxla we were in hills that looked like the dry Sierra foothills of California, with different kinds of pines and cedars. Corn is planted on the steep slopes, women and young children in walk along the roads carrying wood or backpacks from school. Immediately we notice the bright woven cloth of the women and girl´s dress, each color and design signifying a different village or community or language group. ¨Curvos peligrosos¨ read the signs, every mile or so, and our driver has to slow down because I (no surprise here) am getting woozey. We pass small communities with more traditional mud brick houses and tile roofs, and newer homes made of the cinder block and aluminum roofing that is so common. Stretching in a valley below us, we see what look like large warehouses, actually greenhouses of frame and plastic where many local flowers are grown for market (like the calla lilies of Riveras murals...). As we enter San Cristobal I am amazed to see the population is over 100,000 (I had thought much smaller) and that there is an SUV next to us at the traffic light with Minnesota plates and a canoe on top! This is our first indication that we are not actually at the end of the world, and that in fact, we are in a place that is known especially throughout Europe and Latin America as a popular eco-tourist destination. The center of the city is filled with narrow, cobble-stoned streets and homes, shops, small hotels that are all connected with one block-long facade. Many have interior patios and courtyards, as does the hotel Casa Margarita where we are now staying. Rooms are simple, a bit small and rustic, but clean and adequate. It is a relief not to be fighting the night-time mosquitos (how much "Deet" is really good for you, I wonder...) and heat of Puerto Escondido. We are several blocks from the town "zocalo," the plaza where their are government buildings and a gazebo in the center where we hear live marimba music in the early evening. SC has 22 churches, and the one in the center has a large plaza in front of it where the Sandinistas arrived and held forth back in ´94. There has been no visible military force evident in town until yesterday, when we spotted a big green humvee with several soldiers near the zocalo, and noticed a big crowd in front of the church. A taxi driver told us it was a special saint day but he couldn´t say which (or my Spanish was too limited!), but after talking with a young waiter later in the day I learned that it was the national ¨Dia del Banderia," Flag Day, and the schools were out. The teachers of the region had come to SC for a large demonstration against the governments current push to privatize all education in the country. The waiter explained that the private schools are of better quality and there are more of them, and the government wants to farm-out the rest of education, which the public school teachers obviously don´t want. There was another rally later in the day, as I walked back to our hotel, with banners and speeches (the speaker spoke "muy rapido" - I could only make our a few words like better education, parents, teachers, children as I walked by. We have learned that many of the indegenous local people feel that classroom education is only a small part of their children´s necessary education needs, and that learning about their indegenous Mayan culture, religious rituals, spirituality and history is at least as important as ABC´s. The other very interesting piece here is the impact of ¨evangelicos¨ from the US who began coming here in the 1950s, started a language institute to translate Bibles and have caused quite an uproar in the indegenous communities. Converts are basically cast out of their communities, and have drifted into town where they no longer have the strong community connections of their pueblos. What is really disturbing is that many of these evangelicos are now converting to fundamentalist Islam....which is not surprizing if you feel uprooted and disconnected without community in a city of 100,000. One of our guides (when we went to Chamula, which we will describe later) informed us that these Islamic fundamentalists are coming from Spain, obviously speaking Spanish and appealing to these people. He said that he believed that this will become quite problematic for the city in the future. This all reminds me of Karen Armstrong´s insightful book, ¨The Battle for God,¨ in which she compares the common authoritarianism and ¨black-white¨ thinking of fundamentalist Christianity, Judaism and Islam. We hope to add more later...think we have located a wifi site where we can add photos, as I am on our hotels computer and can´t download our pictures from our laptop. We are doing well, are overwhelmed by the beauty and complexity of this region (I´m ready to keep going, and board a bus to Guatemala!) and feeling so blessed to be on the journey together.

-ASG

The Birds

I wish I could show you all photos of some of the birds we've seen. But how? They flit hither and yon. Excepting Los Grandes Negros...I called them Skuas in an earlier blog. ..they are Magnificent Frigatebirds. Not to be confused with the Greater Frigatebird, which is smaller. And then, the Yellow-winged Cacigue, the White -throated Magpie Jay, and the Social Flycatcher, all fairly common and avaiable for viewing.
Here you see us with our friends Gina and Sheila at the Manialtepec Lagoon, having breakfast. We just picked Gina's Place off of a website, and after a few emails, decided we would rent a place from her. We had no idea she would be so fabulously knowedgable about Puerto. In fact, she runs a tourist info. kiosk on the main drag "downtown". Friends of hers have set up a party tongiht (our last) with a grand piano (quite out of tune but a Steinway and...it's a party!) and dinner.

More from San Cristobal next Sunday.

C

ASG here: Somehow C's photos didn't upload to the site. Signal waxes/wanes here; we will try again tomorrow. This being our last day on "Mar del Sur," I am feeling a bit overwhelmed by how much I do not yet know about the Oaxaca coastline and its complicated history. Gina is both well-read and curious about the indigenous past, and has been a wonderful resource. Shared a haunting book with me called "The Edge of Enchantment: Sovereignty and Ceremony in Huatulco, Mexico" written by one of the staff with the National Museum of the American Indian which C and I visited last month in DC. The displays we saw there of life in Latin American "Before Cortes" (a different kind of "b.c") have come to life as a I read and listen to people down here....of a coastline that has been a thoroughfare for peoples long before the Spanairds. Rich in resources of gold, silver, cochineal (red dye the Spanairds later sold to all of Europe...think "Red Coats" of the English infintry), blue dye from mussels, pearls, seafood carried by hand by relay runners to Moctezuma in Mexico City, a coastline visited by traders from Peru and out in the Pacific (along the helpful currents), later sacked numerous times by European pirates....the lush coastal strip and high mountains have endured boundary disputes and been the subject of litigation for eons. Zapotec, Mixtec, Nahua peoples (to name just a few...so little known about them now...Spanairds destroying temples,records, art, etc), all with different languages, finally subjugated (and paying tribute/taxes) to the Aztecs and then quickly descimated within decades by European illnesses after Pedro de Alvardo (one of Cortes cohorts) arrives in 1523. Now to hear of the expropriation of lands for tourist development...and how to maintain ties with your young people who must migrate Norte to seek employment that pays more than 50 pesos a day (about 50 cents). Our current host Sheila, who is now a citizen after living here 16+ years and runs a language institute, tells of bright, former students of hers who have needed to leave, as there is little sustainable work. Gina explains: it's as if our government does not recognize a middle class; only the big companies and the lowly people who work for them for nothing. So, I watch and listen and ponder these things....and realize my adult education about this vast country has been so limited. I will stop there for now..

-ASG

Valentines day on Playa Manzanillo

Just had to add a few more photos...me eating oysters with lime at lunch, after watching several men hauling them up the beach dripping with seawater after they pulled them off the bottom of the bay and then seeing them cracked open by an older man feet from our table. We ate under an awning of the small restaurant in the next photo, enjoying the sight of familias mexicanos splashing, laughing together in the shallow waters, as fishermen brought in tuna off the boats you see. And the fish soup, sopa de mariscos, was pretty amazing...filled with whole shirmp, octopus pieces, tuna, and a broth that was like drinking the ocean...yum. Did some snorkling, seeing mostly dead coral close to shores, some colorful little fish...and also quite a few tiny jellyfish which left us with a stingy rash (an unusual occurance, which we hope has drifted out to sea today). That's when we retreated to other side of the beach for lunch!

-Anne

Finding WiFi...

Ah...it all seemed so easy when we thought of it...posting blogs daily and keeping you all in touch with daily doings. WiFi is quite scarce around town, and is needed in order to download our photos onto our blogsite. We dragged the laptop to supper last night, hoping to use the Santa Fe Hotel router again (long, dusty, hot trek across town) and somehow couldn't get a signal. Frustrating, when you are all ready to send news! And...it's all part of being somewhere that is mostly "off the grid." From now on we will attempt Sabbath Blogs on Sundays, so you all will not get too frustrated checking for us and will know when to visit the site!

The first photo is our beloved "palapa" above our first residence near Playa Carilizallilo, accessed by an interior spiral staircase up to the roof. It is there that I sketched and painted daily, until we moved across town to our new dwelling (photos soon). I would go up there early and watch the sunrise, for quiet reading and reflection, then retreat in the heat of the day after morning swim for artwork and writing.

The second photo is "un artista" (same for male/female) who spreads his wares on the street, holding a painting of his we purchased. Notice, if you can see the details, the ubiquitous skeletons (this time playing saxaphone!) which are so much a part of Mexican folklore, spirituality and art. I met a woman artist from Chicago who was working on a wonderfully bizarre watercolor of dog skeletons (inspired she said by all the Crazy Dogs of Puerto, which run all around town).

Then you see me working on a small watercolor of some pinkish flowers I spotted in a poolside pot, and then a gecko inspired by the numerous geckos who skitter across the walls and night and eat mosquitos. They emit a loud "chirpchirpchirp" that sounds like a bird, and totally incongruous with their small size. They are actually almost "albino" in color (the green is "artist priviledge").

I am hoping that you each had a sweet Valentine's Day. Chris and I exchanged homemade cards near the beach at sunset....still in love, and so grateful to be here together.