Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Keeping Watch with the Virgin -- Keeping company with a "toro'"


I've been busy uploading videos, (here's the action that goes with the picture to the left) and my friend Nina wrote up our experience in Fortuna de Vallejo -- Here's her take on our time there:


December 12 is el Dia de la Virgen, however the celebrations begin the evening of Dec. 11 at sundown and last through the night, until dawn. We were invited to follow our host's pick-up through the jungle, into the mountains to the 'rancho' (small mountain town) to join the all night festivities with the family of our goddaughter's mother. It turns out this family comprises at least 80% of the town, with parents, grandparents, children, cousins, nieces, nephews, aunts and uncles all there. Everyone seemed related to someone else.



The town boasted a new and sparkling clean main plaza nestled between the town's two streets, with the also clean and new church across from it. Some of the townspeople were finishing up the last of a coat of paint on the plaza's (dry) fountain as we arrived. A shrine to Our Lady of Guadalupe was set up in the plaza, adorned with balloons, flowers, candles, palm fronds. The church was also festooned with flowers, and flashing Christmas lights of all colors surrounded the Virgen on the alter. Some people were in the church attending mass, others just sitting around in the plaza, and we three American women were welcomed by all the town, especially the curious 8 - 10 year old girl cousins, who soon became our fast friends.



After the mass, a procession descended from the hillside, each person holding aloft a candle. Then the musicians arrived with their violins, guitars, and later a bass. The music began, the older women fell into parallel lines facing the shrine in the plaza and their intricate, winding dance began. It would continue all night. The explanation given us is that the Virgen watches over us all day, all night, every day, every night. On this, the eve of her day, the people stay up with her, offering her their music, their dance, their devotion. We sat on the edges of planters watching the dancing, listening to the music, occasionally wandering around, talking to the other women, the girls, watching the small children running about and chasing each other. And the firecrackers!! How the Mexicans love their firecrackers, the louder the better, and what is a holiday here without them?! Every half hour, if not more, they would go soaring into the sky and explode with a thunderous concussion.



At about 8:00 in the evening the food was served - beans, meat in a rich, oily, spicy broth, and a carne asada, which, we were told, had just been slaughtered that morning for the feast, and was grilled on a Weber BBQ. And of course, piles of tortillas. The dancing continued, the lines getting longer as more women, teens, and some of the men joined in. The children became sleepy and lay down on blankets their mothers had brought, on the cement of the plaza, in the open night air. Huge pots of sweet, weak coffee laced with cinnamon were kept warm over a wood fire and a drop of tequila would be added if you wanted. All the women shared in watching over the children - some mothers danced as others nestled their little ones and wrapped them in blankets. A small girl, maybe one year old, dipped her fingers into my plate of beans. I fed her small pieces of tortilla and bits of meat and she then became 'mine' for several hours, finally falling asleep in my arms as I rocked her to the sweet music.



And then the 'toro' appeared. This is a paper mache bull with fireworks attached and is held aloft by one of the men who goes running around the plaza with fireworks spiraling off in every direction, chasing anyone who runs from him, which of course Susan & I did, much to the amusement of our friends.



We had been lead to believe that we would be spending the whole night there, holding vigil, but our family decided to leave at about 10:30 for the hour and a half drive back to La Penita, so we followed them out through the jungle, arriving at the La Penita plaza at midnight, finally falling into bed at about 2:00, to the sound of the fireworks which continued until dawn.


Saturday, October 31, 2009

Catrina is the skeletal feminine figure that presides over Dia de los Muertos, and this young woman was getting into the spirit of the holiday. She is not, as several people observed, all that "skeletal" herself, but she's got the traditional hand-on-the-hip Catrina pose down pat.

The official observation is on November 2. It falls on Monday this year, and we will be celebrating with neighbors and friends at the formal opening of Xaltemba Restaurant and Gallery. But last night Larry and I, and houseguest Patricia, strolled up and down the main Avenida, taking in the altars built by local high school students to honor members of the community who had made a difference in their lives. There was an altar to a former math teacher, and several to grandfathers and grandmothers, those altars readily apparent by the presence of a rocking chair waiting to rest their weary spirits.





It's at this time of year that supposedly the dead come back to call on those they've left behind, and they're greeted with ofrendas or offerings of things significant in their lives -- favorite foods, treasured mementos, symbols of activities they enjoyed, or symbols of their employment. The woman honored by this altar was a hair dresser, so you see her salon chair, a hair styling magazine and other tools of her trade -- all ready for her return.






The majority of the altars honored young people -- friends, classmates, or older brothers or sisters of the students' contemporaries. You see a date like the one in the picture, look at the young face framed by a sunset over the ocean, and catch your breath. Not even twenty years old! Obviously Alejandro, another nineteen-year old, was someone who loved the water, and his friends decorated his altar with lots of beach sand, and even provided a skim board for playing in the waves. (Remember, you can click on any image here and make it bigger. Then just hit the back arrow to return to the text.)




Do people really believe the spirits come back and visit? Talking with our Mexican friends, and with the young people busily constructing the altars that afternoon, I get the impression that these memorials are more a means for keeping those who have passed on alive in memory rather than a serious accomodation for the departed returning in some kind of not-so-concrete form. What is very tangible though, is the sense of reverence and remembrance for the person being considered -- a public acknowledgement of his or her value and contribution to the fabric of community life. I like it that high school kids have an opportunity to come together, build something around a friend's memory, get dressed up, read aloud a tribute, and have people applaud afterwards. That's the kind of validation every teenager could use.

Essential to every altar are four elements:
  • An image of the person honored
  • candles for light and aroma
  • fresh flowers to remind us of the impermanence of physical life no matter how beautiful it seems
  • water to symbolize purity and renewal
I don't believe in spirits other than the sense we carry around of who someone was. Goodness, that could apply to those whose warm skin we can still touch! It's our own sense of who our mother or dad was -- or is -- that may affect the way we conduct ourselves now. My mom lives in Lubbock, Texas, but I swear she spends a lot of time inside my head. There are ghosts to deal with, living or dead. If building an altar and revising our mortal history can expunge a few hurts and misunderstandings, I say, "lift those altars high!" Let's honor the good and let go of the not so good. That way Dia de Los Muertos becomes a celebration of life, the way it was meant to be!

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

"Take notes. Everything is copy."

That's counsel from Nora Ephron – or at least from her mom to her. It's advice for those times when Life with a capital L for LIVING, LOVING, and LAUGHING, seems to diminish into life -- little, limited, frightening, painful, and frankly depressing. As much as I would love to stay in the mental space where I see myself as a dancing column of light, there are times when dust motes invade, tears come, and waddaya got? Mud.

But the light is breaking through and it's time for Plan B – or C, D, or XYZ. Whatever. I'm not giving up. Those dust motes are turning into grit.

When you start writing a book, it's nice to know where you're headed with it – what the ending is going to be, how the story will resolve. Getting there is what makes the story. It's like the road from Guayabitos up to Tepic, the capital of the State of Nayarit, where we live. It is a windy two-lane asphalt ribbon that holds surprises at every turn. During the journey the compass on Hummercita literally goes full circle. But I know we're headed to Tepic, no matter what direction we seem to be going at one particular moment.

I kept that in mind last week as Larry and I drove there, and I checked into the San Rafael Center for Surgery. I'd gone there for "a study." I ended up staying several days and having some "serious" surgery. The anesthesiologist was named Filiberto, and he called me "Susanita la Bonita." He comforted me as the surgeons around me prepared, telling me about his home in the mountains and showing me photos of his two Huichol wives on an iPhone. "I've slipped a little peyote into the magic serum," he winked at me. "You will have beautiful, colorful dreams." I think he was joking. But whatever, the events of the last two months are receding into dream like status, maybe not beautiful nor colorful yet, but at least not frightening.

I'm back. I took notes. And Virgin Territory is going to be a great story.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Back at the Keyboard Again.

After two weeks in Texas and Oklahoma visiting friends and family (90 showed up for the reunion), I'm happy to be back in hot and humid Mexico, with a good excuse to stay sequestered. Working, working, working -- after a brief almost disastrous flirtation with Bejeweled. Acchh! Run away from that game! It's seductive and addictive!

Looks like there's interest building in our friend Mary and the Virgin of Guadalupe. Here are a couple "signs of the times."
New movie about Virgin of Guadalupe
New move titled Mary, Mother of Christ

Did you get that, that I said AND the Virgin of Guadalupe? They are not necessarily one and the same! Want to know more? Read the book!

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Mission ALMOST Accomplished


The weather has cooperated. It's so blistery hot no one dares stick their nose outside. So I've been cloistered away writing, writing writing on Virgin Territory. It's close enough to finished to say almost done. I'll get the big working document printed off once more and in a binder to carry with me to Texas and Oklahoma these next two weeks. I leave tomorrow to see Mom and family. But that manuscript will be my constant companion as I edit, edit, edit.
So I'm going to stick my neck out once more and make my plans public: I want to get this into print so I can introduce it at the Guadalajara International Book Fair, November 28 - December 6. There! Hold me to it, Friends. Your support has been SOOO helpful. The guest of honor this year is the City of Los Angeles. This is such a natural! Read more about the fair here at Wikipedia.
So that's me celebrating a little early last Saturday night. Eddie and Roberto are opening Xaltemba for two Saturday nights, to give their new chef a little try out. There were nineteen reservations this past Saturday, and forty people showed up. Whew! Talk about crunch time! Check out their menu for this coming Saturday and eat your hearts out, you fair weather amigos who have fled north!
Larry surprised me that evening with a banner wishing me "Feliz Cumpleanos," and a chocolate birthday cake, which we parcelled out among all the people present. My friend Ann painted me a birthday card, bought me a crown (Ann, I'm still waiting for those photos!), and wrapped everything up in Quincianera packaging. She just put a great big "X 4" in front of all those number 15's. Every girl should get a crown sometime in life, and I say, better late than never!
But the real crown in a woman's life is a group of special friends wherever she finds them, and mine were at breakfast this morning. Our Tuesday morning ladies' breakfast club at Irma's La Casita has not dwindled with the heat. The group has grown larger and more devoted to getting together than ever. It may be a hot weather thing, but for some of us, this is the highlight of the week! So thanks Piedad, Lupita, Elizabeth, Melanie, Sarah, Jane, Linda, and Trish, for your birthday greetings and goodies this morning. And Jeanie, Barb, Marilyn, Lin, and Ann, we missed your smiling faces.
I'm off to pack up and go. Hasta pronto, ya'll.

Friday, July 17, 2009

A 17th Century Feminist


I've been spending today with Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz. I can't believe I carried away a degree in Spanish and Latin American Area Studies and never got to know her better. The textbooks I studied described her briefly as a nun who wrote a lot. That says something about the state of university curricula prior to the emergence of women's studies.
Juana Ines de Asbaje y Ramirez was born in New Spain (now Mexico) around 1651. She learned to read when she was three years old and wrote her first play at the age of eight. She mastered Latin in twenty lessons before becoming a teenager. When she was fourteen, she became a maid of honor to the wife of the Spanish Viceroy in Mexico City, and delighted the court with her erudition and learning. But at twenty-one she entered a convent because in order to continue her life of writing, musical composition, scientific and mathematical studies and vast correspondence with the other literary lights of the day, that was the only option available to her. That's when she became Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz.
For the next twenty years she wrote prodigiously on theology, mathematics, and philosophy, which brought down the anger of the church hierarchy for dealing with subjects outside of the purview of women. But she also wrote about love, rapturous, passionate works of poetry and prose. Her most famous work was a response to the bishop at Puebla who was supposed to be her friend. He had written in subterfuge, disguising himself as one of her sisters in the convent, and advising her to leave off her studies, not to meddle in the affairs of men, and to devote herself to the religious life. Her Respuesta is a classic text in defense of woman's intelligence and the right to education.
She died in 1695 during a cholera epidemic. Shortly before her death, she had sold her library of over 4,000 volumes and given the proceeds to charity. What remains of her writings is contained in three large volumes, though it is agreed that the majority of her prose work, aside from her Respuesta, was lost or destroyed. Her image is perhaps in greater circulation than that of Guadalupe, as it is imprinted on the 200 peso note. Before the last devaluation, she was on the 1,000 peso note. Sor Juana is definitely a trail blazer in Virgin Territory.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Santa Maria del Oro


On Friday last week, Larry, our houseguest Patricia, and I escaped from the coastal heat to a little corner of paradise tucked up in the mountains between Tepic and Guadalajara. Santa Maria del Oro looked like an interesting little town, but not interesting enough to keep us from forging on through it to the lake beyond and below. First we stopped to look at it from above, then we drove down the narrow winding road to the lake itself. The drive around the lake is something I'm glad we did, but happy we don't have to do again. The road is pretty rough, and sometimes practically disappears. Maybe people get to those big pretty houses by boat rather than car.


We settled in for lunch at one of the shore-side restaurants.
It wasn't exactly crowded.


But there was a floor show -- one lone water skier who made pass after pass doing a flying flip on a wake board to our applause and cheers.
The temperature said 85, but with the humidity down in the 30% range it felt cool and pleasant. Santa Maria del Oro is just 40 minutes east of Tepic, even on the free road. I would think there would be a lot of visitors from there, but on that day we had the place practically to ourselves.
Here are a couple of links that have more photos and info.





Thursday, July 2, 2009

The Virgin is NOT the only universal icon

The air is so heavy you need to drink it rather than breathe it. But, hey it's cloud cover. I headed for the market just to get out of the house and to buy some ceviche for lunch. On the way out, I saw the caretaker, Regino, applying herbicide to the sidewalks. (Never mind the streets. They're green already). He had a face mask, a hoodie, and a big glove on the hand that held the bottle of poison. "Pareces como Michael Jackson!" I called to him from the window. He waved back and did a little jerky dance. "Mas o menos!" he agreed. Ah, Michael, You're everywhere.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

The Televisa Spin

The concert in Puerto Vallarta was a production of Televisa, and they went all out on the staging and publicity, if not porta-potties. Conversation around tables here in Jaltemba has revolved around "where we were" during the concert. Several good reports, but the most lousy experience goes to Cate and her crew who were out on one of those little boats in the choppy, choppy waves.

Here's Televisa's take on the whole thing. It's long, but you only have to watch a few opening minutes to get the flavor of what was going on in and around a concert production they said attracted between 80,000 and 100,000 people. Check it out here.

Friday, June 26, 2009

The hurricane that didn't happen

And we're so glad it didn't! Larry and I stashed patio furniture cushions, strapped down hammocks, collapsed umbrellas and evaluated which potted plants might prove lethal if left on walls or tables. In Puerto Vallarta, windows at the Liverpool center were either boarded up or taped with big crosses. Sandbags were strategically placed across doors and drives. If we know anything in Mexico these days, it's how to respond publically to a crisis.



But it was officially beautiful yesterday with the remnants of what turned out to be a benign tropical storm swirling through the sky. There was enough rain over the last few days that the river behind our house broke through the sand bar which builds up across its mouth each year during the dry season. The green waters have escaped and we now have a tide-sensitive estuary. The egrets have returned, and the setting sun which broke through the lead belly cloud cover for a few brief glorious moments before sliding below the horizon gilded their white breasts as they veered up and over our heads. Sort of breathtaking.



There's still quite a gringo contingent in the Jaltemba Bay area, and those that are left are using the quiet time to throw themselves into creative efforts. Lin is building another suite in her bed and breakfast while a local artist is covering her walls with murals. Roberto and Ann are painting, painting, painting, except when Roberto is cooking, cooking, cooking. Eddie is showing up like clockwork at Xaltemba, as if it were an office job, coming up with new restaurant concepts for next year. Dennis is putting his talents as a former baker for Sara Lee to good use -- we love to have him show up early in the morning with fresh bread or sweet rolls. Chuck is in the home stretch on the house he's building on Sol Nuevo -- it gets fancier and fancier with every new design concept Wendy comes up with. And I have more and more pages to print out and punch. My loose leaf binder manuscript is growing at a slightly faster pace than the six two foot high Italian Cypress I planted last month in hopes that they will shade our pool by next summer.



So saludos to our friends up north. Hope you'll have as much to show for your summer time as we here in Virgin Territory.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Been there, done that

So there were masses of people, lots of rain, a starting time that was an hour and half late, and a sound system that would dissolve cobblestones. And Larry says I don't know how to have a good time. I could go into detail, but do you really want to know?? Maybe it's an age thing (ya think?), but I don't believe I'll be going to many more mega-star-all-for-TV-and-live-audience-be-damned productions. One in a decade or two is plenty. The company I was in, however, was delightful. The borrowed condo down near Mismaloya sublime, Friday night's dinner intimate, air-conditioned and delicious, and Saturday's outing to the botanical gardens a little piece of heaven. Happy to be back home today. Back to writing tomorrow!

Friday, June 19, 2009

Musica!!

"I'm so grateful you have friends to go play with." This is my husband over fresh orange juice this morning. He's referring to my heading off to Puerto Vallarta this weekend to participate in a mega event designed to boost Mexican tourism.

Alejandro Fernandez, resident of Puerto Vallarta, is bringing a few friends (Gloria Estefan, Enrique Iglesias, et. al) to give a free concert on the Malecon Saturday night. Click on his name to get a little taste of what you can hear as background music in most romantic mood restaurants in Mexico. And here's another sample of a wonderful way to learn the more complicated Spanish verb forms -- Si tu supieras (If you only knew.)

Oh, and what the heck, here's one more -- En el jardin. Que les guste! Enjoy!

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Welcome to Virgin Territory

I'm launching this blog to support the book I will have written by the time I turn sixty. That is next month, July 21, 2009. It's almost done. I'm calling it Virgin Territory. Let me tell you about it.


In February, 2006, my husband and I sold everything we owned in the States and moved to the Pacific Coast of Mexico just north of Puerto Vallarta. It was a decision made in a burst of either madness or inspiration, a precipitous plunge into retirement -- and renewal. For us, like thousands of other gringos making this move, Mexico represents a new beginning. In that respect, where we now live is definitely "virgin territory."


But Mexico is also the home of Our Lady of Guadalupe, "Goddess of the Americas," an indigenous icon that has been growing in presence and influence both north and south of the border. Her image graces more rearview mirrors, notebook covers and shopping bags than it does church altars. The Virgin of Guadalupe represents a popular religiosity unconfined to any institution, and now, in a time when institutions of many kinds seem rather shakey, she provides a spiritual perspective on what is lasting and important. She is a current symbol of an ancient ethos, a direct encounter with what is colorful and primitive, free-flowing and spontaneous, yet constant and sustaining.


It is my hope that Virgin Territory will speak particularly to women who are ready to move – if not physically, as in Eat, Pray, Love, then mentally – to consider new ways of being present with God, with themselves, and with others. Like Barbara Brown Taylor, they may be Leaving Church. Like Sue Monk Kidd, they're looking hard at religion's traditional authority figures – and often finding them lacking. Like Anne LaMott, they may cast a sardonic eye at social norms and politics, and find refuge in a more primitive Christianity full of grace and humor.



After our move to Mexico, I found myself taking a fresh look at The Virgin of Guadalupe. I'd first had contact with her when I was eight years old and I visited Mexico City with my family. She'd made a lasting – and largely erroneous – impression on me then. Now, over fifty years later, I find she represents far more than I'd ever imagined. To me she is the archetypical feminine spiritual ideal featured in Mary Baker Eddy's major work, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, an archetype which I now feel impelled to "unpack" and bring forward to the twenty-first century. The Virgin embodies qualities that humanity needs now, a fresh model of divine expression that goes beyond the confrontational and competitive our-God-is-bigger-than-yours prototype.


What provides the story in Virgin Territory is that the spiritual perspective I've gained from this feminine model has proved practical during our time here. We renovated a house bought on a whim. We had personal health crises and coped with the fraudulent loss of our retirement nest egg. I came to terms with a long-suppressed childhood trauma, discovered talents and artistic inclinations I never dreamed of, and regained a sense of life-purpose and identity beyond a religious denomination, a family name, or a particular nationality. Through it all I became more intimately acquainted with an underlying gentle Mother presence, and began seeing myself as Her reflection. It's made a huge difference in my life, and I think my experience might be helpful to others.