Leaving Mexico to the Mexicans......time to head home

I drove to Uruapan this weekend with my friend Evelyn and her niece Leanne who is visiting from Vancouver. The reason for our trip, which is a 4 hour drive north to the state of Michoacan's avocado growing center, is the annual artisan's fair, a 2 week event that coincides with Semana Santa. This year marked the 50th anniversary of the fair where the residents from the small pueblas of the state gather to show and sell their products. There is also a juried competition for prizes in each art form, a parade, a women's textile fair and a food court where each village sells their regional foods prepared by women using traditional cooking implements.

The weekend felt like a huge sensory feast for the eyes, ears, palate and mind as we wound our way through the tents of the tianguis in the zocalo, the trails of the national park, and the streets towards the San Pedro textile factory. The colors of Mexico were all shining in the clothing, crafts and flowers along the streets and homes of Uruapan.... how lucky we were to see this special event. And how lucky we were to arrive back home safely each with carefully chosen purchases for our homes, ourselves or our friends. Each item will carry the memory of the hands, the eyes and the hearts that made them because surely that beauty wouldn't be possible without love being added to the mix of skill and art. This truly is the Grand Finale of our 5 months here in a country where people have a natural artistic style seen in everything that is made or done.

And now I am back in Zihua where Gene and I have 3 days to pack up our two apartments and organize the end of our "year". The town has changed in the 3 days I was away. Semana Santa brings the crowds from the interior out to the coast and this year looks to be as busy as ever. The beaches, the streets, boats, shops and restaurants are full of families who come for the sun, sand and water. The garbage trucks and street sweepers are working overtime to keep up with the volume of debris left beside the overflowing garbage cans. The ratio of Canadian/Americans to Mexican tourists has changed..it's the Mexican's turn to take back this little coastal resort and our time to head back to Canada where family and friends and home are waiting.

I love you Mexico, I love your people, your colors, your sounds, your tastes and your spirit. If we are lucky, we will be back next year and do this all over again! I wouldn't miss any of it. Please don't change anything.....we love you just the way you are.... Oh, maybe you could work on that hole in front along the sidewalk, and the funky water in the canal at the end of the season....

A Very Mexican Weekend - Lessons from the Heart

On Saturday, we arranged to spend the day with our Nino's Adelante student, Doraliz. Normally, when we see her, she is accompanied by her Mom and her 3 siblings, including even her brother who is 16. All previous visits have been to our casa and have centered around swimming in our pool and lunch. But because we wanted to take her to the new ecological park El Refugio de Potosi and then on to La Barra to swim and have lunch, we had said we could only take 4 safely with seatbelts, and we weren't sure if her Mom or her brother would be the 4th....well in the end, only 3 came, Doraliz, her brother Julio and their youngest sister Angelica. Liliana , the middle sister, was home with a toothache and waiting to see the dentist.

When we decided to become sponsors, we knew we wanted to be actively involved with our student because we are here 5 months each winter. However, spending time with Doraliz has been a mental challenge for me because I tell myself, a) we don't really know her or her family very well and are unsure of their tastes or preferences b) they only speak Spanish and our communication is limited c) I am very conscious of the inequities in our relationship.

Although our sponsorship involves a relatively small amount of money on an annual basis, it is obvious that we have been priviliged in the order of the world. On the other hand, her hardworking family has little. They live at the top of a steep hill overlooking Zihuatanejo. Some of the recent migrants to that area are accused of being squatters, but we believe her family own the property. Doraliz has a loan from the government and runs a small tienda attached to her families modest plywood and paper home. It is her way to contribute to supporting herself and her family even though she is only 13 and is working hard to maintain a top grade in her class and qualify for our sponsorship. Her Mom volunteers in the local community by arranging social programs for some of the areas poorest and her Dad is a gardener facing unemployment because the large Ixtapa home where he works is for sale.

I am sometimes unsure as to how to handle visits to her home where there is no place to sit and I feel like I am at risk to be perceived as critical. I want to know how to handle giving gifts, as I am constantly aware of how much they need and how little they have. So this Saturday it was a great relief to have some really fun time with Doraliz and her brother and sister. We laughed, we played and we ate. Gene finds it easier than me to just be with them and laugh and not worry about how to talk or what to say....he has the gift of being a Mexican at heart! It is the lesson I hear in yoga everyday....to be able to move from my thinking mind and live with an open heart. Doraliz may just be the gift I need.

Today, our friends and neighbours, Monica and Anibel, invited us to drive to their coffee plantation in the mountains just north of here. Monica was given the responsibility to live in the mountains and to be the cocinera at the coffee plantation of her husband's family shortly after she married Anibel, over 20 years ago. This was hard for her, a university graduate from Mexico city, but she learned the traditional ways of cooking and working the land and those skills are what she refers to now when she teaches her classes in the Cooking School of Patio Mexica. She had often told me of the beauty in the mountains, the crisp clean air and the quiet surroundings. We jumped at the chance of driving them, together with their daughter Jimena, to see their property. Monica had not been there for 5 years and now we know why!

We were unprepared for the 3+ hours of rutted dirt roads needed to travel the 80 kms and 1500 meters of elevation. We wound our way another 30 kms. past the tiny settlement of El Cedral, which is the last point along the route where someone could depend on a vehicle for assistance. After that point, we were the only car on the road which had been destroyed by the heavy rains that fell recently and ruined any surface repairs done earlier in the dry season. We passed herds of cattle and goats but saw no persons until we pulled into the property of Anibel's neighbour. We were greeted by his grandchildren and the children of his hired help. This hardworking family live in one of the most remote areas I have seen, but what they lack in amenities, they made up for in welcoming us to their home.

We wandered into his nearby coffee plantation to see how organic, shade grown coffee is picked. Now is the season when the workers from Chilapa arrive to work the plantation. The plants grow in the shade of the tall trees and on the natural slopes where rocky foot paths that are barely visible wind there way through the rough and often dangerous terrain. I learned that the men carry machetes primarily to protect themselves from animals.....snakes to be precise!

We shared our lunch which we had bought to eat enroute and Gene's 6 pack of beer was a real treat for the men of the house. The women were eager to have photos taken of their children and later we were given a tour of the gardens and the outdoor ovens, coffee washing and drying stations. We were served Cafe de Olla which is the local version of sweet coffee, and I learned it is a drink given to children as without electricity or refrigeration, they must live on what they have and grow. We were invited to have lunch with the family who wanted to kill and serve us a beautiful chicken who wandered in and out of the kitchen where we sat. However our time was short and after saying goodbye, earing gifts of produce and flowers from the garden, we were left with the feeling that no matter how hard we think we have worked in our lives, we had not even imagined the work that these kind and generous people who look old before their time must do. Life is not easy for coffee growers in Guerrero...and I will never question why coffee costs what it does. Our morning reward, is the product of much hardwork and sacrifice by these farmers.

Oh, and a final note, when we left the greeting "que les vaya bien" was wished to us. "That we go well",.....and that greeting carried us and our 1996 Ford Explorer back down the 80 kms. safely, despite some worried moments when Gene thought our brakes had failed heading down the steep mountainside terrain. Gracias a Dios one more time!

Zihua throws a little party

We are in the middle of our annual International Guitar Fest and it's a lot of fun. This year, unlike the last 3 years that we have attended, the event was reduced, both in number of performers and length, and none of us were sure what to expect. The locals who organize this event, which is a charitable event to support the Casa de la Cultura, an arts school which provides education to children and adults, scaled back due to the expenses involved.

Opening night coincided with St. Patrick's Day....so what better excuse to have a party! Our "green drinks" were the wonderful lime margaritas that start each evening's cocktail hour. Gene and I, together with our friend Evelyn, one of the many Calgarians who are making Zihua their second home, courtesy of the new direct Westjet flight and a soaring Canadian dollar, joined the large crowd at Frank's in Ixtapa. Opening nights bring out all the locals and many curious tourists who lined the tables all waiting to hear the talent.

Last night, the venue moved to the end of La Ropa beach to Las Gaviotas for the "jam session", where every musician made an appearance and we heard some amazing combinations. Think flamenco classic, combined with funky blues, an eclectic rock guitarist and a classic country musician, and put them all on the stage at the same time...for more musically minded persons than me, well it was a night to remember!

2 nights of music left....that and a trip to Barra with our Nino's Adelante family and dinners with friends....we've got a lot to pack into our last 2 weeks. Never mind walking the waterfront as many times as possible as I just have to fill my memory banks with images such as this....

Oh, and a little trip to Uruapan for the largest craft fair in Latin America too!! There just might be something that catches my eye.

Postscript: I asked my friend, Paty who is the Mexican owner of the yoga studio I visit 3 times/week, whether she enjoyed the guitarfest last night. She said that she didn't. She said only 2 men were good looking and they all dressed so badly. And she's right. Then I thought about it. In Mexico, women and men always look fabulous. They are well-groomed, smell amazing and wear stylish, if rather sexy clothing. If they think that the clothing worn by the musicians at Guitarfest symbolizes the respect they have for being here, I can understand why she is saying this.... it is easy to say "don't judge a book by it's cover"...but in a country where everyone takes great care in looking good from newborn babies onwards, what kind of message are we sending to the people who we are here to support?

The Seasons of Zihuatanejo

Some people think that it would be boring living where there is only one season, eternal summer! Because we come from Canada, a country where distinct seasonal weather determines much of our lives - our homes, our activities, our clothes; it takes a little more time and the use of different senses to notice the subtle differences that determine the seasons here. I now realize there are many mini-seasons that occur during the months we live in our winter home.

When we arrive, it is the "quiet season"....before all the seasonal tourists arrive. The ocean is calm, the water is clear and the streets and beaches are empty. The locals welcome our return. It is pure bliss.

Shortly after that, we enter the season of the Virgen del Guadalupe and Navidad with the huge crowds of Mexican tourists. We become a minority as we watch the Mexicans enjoy their annual vacations on the "Costa Grande".

In January, the season of the major influx of Norte Americanos begins. The streets and restaurants are full of "snowbirds"who are coming for their first or their twentieth winter in Zihuatanejo. Familiar faces stroll along the streets and the town takes on a rhythm and pace. Yoga classes are full and the chairs at the beachside palapas are once again occupied by faithful customers who return year after year to their favorite cafes, with friendly waiters who greet them by name. The bathtub like waters of the Pacific Ocean take on a slight chill, and the breeze in the afternoon has a cooling quality that we welcome. Locals begin to wear sweaters and we talk about using our blankets, or at least top sheets for the first time this season.

Now March is here and two events mark this season as we end our winter here. One I experienced in a painful way while on vacation in La Manzanilla a few years ago. This is the season of the stingray, small sand-colored rays which move into the warm shallow waters to lay their eggs during the last week of February and the first week of March. I know they have no intention of attacking persons, but because they are so totally camouflaged and because novices like I once was, do not know where to look for them, they can inflict an excruciatingly painful cut with their razor sharp tale cartilage when threatened by a foot placed too near. I am ever so careful when I enter the water these days.

The final event awaiting us is the arrival of mango season...the small tasty autulfo mangoes that hang from the trees on long strings and are the most tasty and delicious fruit are beginning to appear in the markets. Further south, in Oaxaca and Chiapas, the markets were full of the golden orange kidney bean shaped mangoes, but here, we are waiting.....they aren't yet quite ripe, but we are hoping that they soon will make their appearance in large enough numbers so that we can begin to shop for the little treasures before we return home. It will be hard to compare the 8 pesos/kilo price here with what we will pay back in Canada for these now globally marketed taste treasures. Vive Mangoes!!