Sunday, April 30, 2006

After midnight . . .

I will no longer be connected to the Internet via Prodigy (dial-up!) service. I am terminating what has been an on-again-off-again relationship. By that I mean I dial in, get connected for 10 seconds, get terminated, and get charged for one phone call. This can happen three for four times until I finally get a line that lasts for awhile. And I am only allowed 100 of these per month, free. After that, I pay about 15 cents per call. It adds up, believe me. And TelMex is the ONLY phone company in Mexico. Like Pemex is the ONLY gasoline company in Mexico.

So after midnight it will be either the local cybercafe or wait until San Diego. That means that our five-month idyll is over and it's back to the US and Davis and TV news and regular delivery of a newspaper. Darn.

If I can write more before we leave next Wednesday, or along the way, I will. Otherwise, the next posting will be from San Diego. My sister is back in the hospital, hoping to return home today. Something to do with faulty dialysis. I trust she will be up and perking by a week from today, our intended arrival dates at her house. Caitlin, too, on a quick visit from Bozeman with Mike.

I am ready to leave here. It is getting very hot and muggy, although the breeze picks up in the afternoon and it is always cool for sleeping. We have moved over to Jack's for these last few days as the kitchen and indeed the entire house has been folded up and packed away for the next few months. I hope that you, readers, are ready to move back, too.

Saturday, April 29, 2006

Lemondade

If you are given lemons…

The "lemon" we have is the library. This morning, Carolyn (la dueña of the library) took a good look at what has happened, at what we have to deal with, and talked about what we, as the borrowing public, can live with. Frankly, we don't have much of a choice. We decided to quit any grumbling and make the best of it. The foyer space will have to do until we happen upon a generous patron who wants nothing more than to set us up in fine style. A bit of pushing and shoving here and there, some rearranging of the shelves, and I think we will be ready for business in the fall. This is, of course, providing that nobody walks out the front door with our expensive (and rusting) shelves. I hope to have a chance to talk to our new presidente before we leave next Wednesday. I am hoping (foolishly?) to get some assurance that a minimal security will be provided to the biblioteca now that they have (or someday will have) computers in the building.

Today our friend Luly was sworn in as the interim mayor of Armeria. The elected mayor is gearing up to run for higher office so Luly is stepping in for about six months. Maybe she can insure our book shelves' safety??

The house is about 75% closed up. We move over to Jack's tomorrow for three days so we can finish bagging up pillows, packing away clothes and stowing all the stuff in the kitchen. I made all the hotel reservations for the trip home -- Tepic, Topolobampo, San Carlos and Gila Bend. All glamour spots.

Put "The Egyptologist" by Arthur Phillips on your MUST READ list.

Friday, April 28, 2006

La Muerte de la Biblioteca

You know the saying, "If somebody offers you something that's too good to be true, it probably is." That's what has happened to us, las gringas and our wonderful Biblioteca Las Palmas. We have been evicted from our space to make room for six -- you heard me, SIX -- computer desks. All our shelves and books, our table, chairs, fan, and other equipment have been moved out of the library into the foyer to make way for the computers. And you'll really love this part. The "government" has said that computers and books cannot be in the same room, so out we go! Who, you may ask, is this "government?" We can't get an answer to this question. But it really doesn't matter because we're out. We've lost 400 sq. ft. that we diligently cleaned, painted, and furnished and are now piled into about 120 sq. ft.

So, you might ask, what are you going to do? Tonight several of us are getting together to (a) play dominoes and (b) talk about what our next move might be. We don't have many options but amon the prowl for another space. And I have trusty eagle-eyed Fernando on it, too. If we can't find anything we can afford -- and this group generates $0 revenue -- we may have to make the best of a very bad situation.

Thursday, April 27, 2006

When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloomed

Spring time in Ohio. The dogwood is in bloom -- white, pink and fuchsia -- as are the red bud (much more purple than red) and lilac. The lilac was in trees, shrubs, hedges, and in several shades of purple and blue. I have never been there at this time of year, only in the fall. The rolling hills of southern Ohio are so green it hurts to look. The trees are getting new leaves and the woodlands are a shade of chartreuse green with bright white splashes of dogwood. My sister-in-law's garden was filled with red and yellow tulips. Such an abundance of new life, and we were there to bury Jim's brother. It was so incongruous, this joyous bursting forth of blossoms heralding new life and the grief and sadness of mourning of a life ended.

Getting there did not go as smoothly as we had planned. The travel agent gave us the wrong information about catching the bus to the Guadalajara airport, so we went many miles and almost two hours out of our way before we finally got to the right place. We had a 4-hour bus ride to the airport, then a flight from Guadalajara to Atlanta to Columbus, picked up our car, and went to Jane's where we ate dinner, and fell into bed after having been up for 36 hours. The next morning we drove down to Pomroy to the funeral, stayed a couple of days, then went back to Columbus to visit my sisters-in-law until early Tuesday morning (6 AM) when we got back on the plane to retrace our steps. From the Guadalajara airport we took a taxi to the central bus station, caught a bus to Colima, and Fernando came and picked us up at about 5:30. For dinner, we had splendid fish soup made by him to welcome us back. We finally got to bed about 9 PM after another 18 hour day. And now we have to pack up the house and get ready to leave here in a week.

Our little village has been restored to its usual calm and quiet after the frenzy of the Easter holidays. Weather here very warm, but as usual, the terrazzo is cool and lovely. But it is time to get back to "real life" in Davis.

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

A Death in the Family

Jim and I are heading up to Columbus, Ohio tonight for the funeral of his brother, Keith. He was an all around good guy; smart,funny, droll, modest. This came right out of left field, and we are still reeling from the shock. We'll return here on Tuesday, April 25 to close up the house and head back to the US for six months.

Easter fever has abated. The disco has been quiet for two nights, but I think the wet T-shirt or bikini contests are tonight. Unfortunately we won't be here to serve as judges.

Monday, April 17, 2006

Easter Plus One

The crowds have, for the most part, packed up and left. The beach is almost clear of campers, and those who pitched their tents across the street from us have all folded and left. Even the disco is silent tonight. They may crank up and go again later in the week as the Pasqua visitors arrive, probably on Wednesday. Easter vacation is divided into two distinct parts. The first week, Semana Santa is from about the Tuesday or Wednesday before Easter until Easter Sunday night. Then there is a short lull before the Pasqua group arrives. They will be here through next Sunday. By that time, everyone is partied out and it is over for another year. The first group is, by reputation, more rowdy than the second, which is typically characterized as "nice families". I'm not convinced.

Yesterday morning, Easter morning, I went out the front door and almost stepped on the face of some recovering reveler, a teen-aged boy sleeping it off in the cool shade of the front wall. About five of his co-celebrants were also sprawled on the sidewalk. When I went outside, one of them attempted to get up, as properly raised Mexican men do, but only made it to his knees before falling back to regain his equilibrium so he did not toss his cookies all over the sidewalk. These boys, all of whom spoke some English and were dressed in pricey beach togs, had obviously been to the disco the night before, hoping to score something. They had had too much to drink and were looking for some shade in which to sleep it off, even on a cement sidewalk. "Como estan?" I asked. Nothing but groans. Yes, too much to drink by a long shot!

Today was my penultimate trip to the outdoor market in Armeria. I can't believe we will be gone in two weeks, but that's how it looks now. Gorgeous strawberries for 10 pesos (90 cents) a kilo, or about 45 cents a pound. For 28 pesos, I purchased 12 tomatoes, 7 small onions, 1 avocado, 1 chili poblano, 3 cucumbers, 1 jicama, 10 round zucchini, 6 heads of garlic. The gre3en beans looked (and snapped) very fresh, but I didn't need them. Likewise the lettuce; big, firm heads, but I am after Romaine this week and he didn't have any. I also didn't find the kind of mangoes I want. Next week. I was also noticing that this market has more underwear than Hanes, Maidenform, Fruit of the Loom, and Jockey combined. Who wears all this stuff?

Our lovely time here has been deeply saddened by news early this evening that Jim's younger brother, Keith, had a massive heart attach this morning and died. He was, in Jim's words, a "good guy." He was very funny, smart, ironic, and always kind and caring. I will miss him. We are now scrambling to figure out how to get from here to Columbus, Ohio in two days. Tomorrow I will go in to Armeria to see our travel agent, Oscar, to find out what he can figure out for us. It will put our return schedule off for about a week, but it is important for both of us to say a farewell to Keith.

Friday, April 14, 2006

Good Friday

Our lovely little village, population 2500, is now bursting at the seams with about 15,000 revelers; campers, holiday residents, hotel guests, day-trippers, and, of course, the upstanding citizens of Cuyutlán. This afternoon the disco cranked up at 4 PM, shattering a momentary calm in the week's din. The visitors began arriving this year on Monday, two days earlier than usual, with a big wave of in-town campers arriving late Wednesday and throughout the night. By Thursday morning there were 10 tents pitched on a small spit of sand across the street from our house. (Jim has been tenderly caring for three struggling palm trees on this tiny 700-sq. ft. piece of land. Alas, they probably will not survive the various tent poles, sleeping bags, camp kitchens. We'll try again next year.) By Thursday night every available patch of ground had been claimed, both around our house and on the beach. The disco has been in full tilt and went until 4 PM this morning. The noise is deafening; the house shakes and tempers get frayed. But look at it this way. It's only about week! And I go to Patty's so at least I get a good night's sleep.

This morning I woke at about 7 to the sound of the mosquito spray truck crawling slowly down the colonia road, emitting a fine spray from it's swiveling turret on top. What on earth are they spraying for now? There have been no mosquitoes for about 3 months and the town is full of people who are sleeping outdoors! The truck also made its way up and down the streets in town. We decided they are spraying to keep the fly population under control -- there are usually swarms of flies after the crowd departs from two weeks here -- and also as a precaution against scorpions that are disturbed by the influx of campers on their turf. Think about it!

At noon today the Good Friday procession began its march at one end of town and slowly made its way through the town, down to the malecon, then out through the colonia to the small church on the hill overlooking the ocean. Leading the procession was someone carrying a huge cross. It is a high honor to be chosen as one of several men who carry the cross in relay. The Stations of the Cross are set up along the way and the group stops at each station for prayers and songs. It's quite a remarkable sight.

Meanwhile, the disco blasts away.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

El Disco

As I write this the disco is blasting away just across the street. And of course, there are NO patrons. It is not going to be an easy night. Earlier a group of mariaches was serenading up the street; probably someone's birthday. That was truly lovely. A taste of Old Mexico. But this? Basura! Tomorrow I move down to Patty's.

A Quiet Week. . .NOT!

Friday, March 31
Playmate Marie left today to return to Wisconsin. It won't be the same without her!

Saturday, April 1
Today the entire town turned out to celebrate the 50th Anniversary of the local priest's admission to the priesthood. The malecon was transformed into an outdoor church, complete with raised altar, an almost-life-sized crucifix, masses of (artificial) flowers, plus offerings of coconuts, bananas, mangoes and other fruits. Long rows of chairs were set up to accommodate the mobs that attended. This priest has served churches in the states of Jalisco, Colima , Michoacan and Guanajuato so there were celebrants from all over. After mass there was a big feast at the Siete Mars restaurant, a sort of free-for-all buffet that went on late into the afternoon. The uestos along the beach were also doing a brisk business. There were a couple of mariache bands strolling along the beach on into the evening. I walked down to survey the wreckage about 6 PM (before daylight savings) and it was getting dark. At the far north end, on the beach, was a cluster of umbrellas and canvas sling chairs with a good crowd of people. A band was standing just on the edge of the surf, pant legs rolled up, and playing and people were dancing on the beach. All of this I saw in silhouette against the evening sky. It was like something out of a Fellini movie.

Sunday, April 2
We went to dinner at the newly built home of the delightful Canadians who stayed in out house last year while we were on our great European adventure. Their house, a large open and covered pavilion by the seashore, has a glorious ocean view, lovely breezes, and cries out for parties. And since daylight savings began this morning, we had a lingering sunset that kept the pavilion awash in a pinkish light until well past 9 PM. Good food, good fellowship, good time.

Cat Update
There was still one female cat we had not been able to catch to take to the vet's for her little "procedure". This afternoon, by ruse and deception -- the old cat-food-leading-into-the-carrier trick, Jack managed to get her locked up. She goes for her life-altering visit tomorrow.

Monday, April 3
If it's Monday, it must be tianguies. I found, among other things, some gorgeous Impatiens at the vivero stand where I get plants. These folks always have lots of nice plants, mostly for about 15 pesos (about $1.40). They last us through the season and then keel over from heat, salt, and too much water. I still have the poinsettias I bought at Christmas; they are thriving now and just may summer over. I'll try planting some and see if they make it.

Also in the market now, mangoes. The trees are laden with them, and they are cheap (about 60 cents a kilo) and delicious.

Tuesday, April 4
Pre-Easter clean up and repair continues, now in a higher gear. Only a week before the mobs start to arrive.

Another hemorrhage in my left eye. This turn of events if most annoying. Second occurrence in about 6 weeks. No reading. Too bad, as I had just started Arthur Phillips The Egyptologist and after only 40 pages I was totally hooked.

Wednesday, April 5
Up to Colima to have appointment with retinal specialist. There is nothing to be done for at least two weeks, as he can't see into the retina through the blood. He did a sonogram on my eye. Very strange procedure for what purpose I have no idea, but I have the photos to look at. This second episode has been a real downer for usually ebullient spirit!

Thursday, April 6
No further hemorrhages. That's the most that can be said about the situation right now.

Friday, April 7
Vision probably 10% improved.

This would have been my mother's 91st birthday. Happy Birthday, Virginia.

We made our annual trek into Manzanillo today to shop and lunch. The traffic gets worse every year, the various overpasses and go-around more confusing, the buildings more garish, the developments more elaborate. I paid a call on the silver shop I have patronized for over 15 years. It is still managing to stay open, probably on my yearly purchases, small though they may be. Then onto a hunt for a particular kind of tile (fruitless), to one of the super markets where we can get Italian salami (successful) and finally to lunch at a seafront place we had not tried before. OK, but it will be back to El Caribe next year -- better food and ambiance.

Saturday, April 8
I have been listening to books on CD since reading is still impossible, despite some further improvement. I sit propped up in bed with my eyes closed listening to some strange voice read a book about Healthy Aging. This was not a choice of topics; it was left here when the owner returned to the US. After listening to this book, it's a miracle I'm still alive!

Cat Update
The kitten came home today, all fixed and healthy, but still so spooked by human contact that she has promptly disappeared. At least she won't come wandering home in a week or so with a pregnant belly. So the saga of the Cats at Jack's House has drawn to a successful close. It only took six people, two cat cages, several cans of mackerel and sardines, chicken livers, dried cat food, and about 5 weeks to get it all accomplished. To say nothing of quite a bit of money.

Sunday, April 9
Jim has been laid low by some germ or other. I think it was the fish he ate for lunch on Friday, but who knows.

This has not been the best week of our lives.

Oh my Lord! The disco fired up for three hours tonight! Peace and quiet? Se fueron!

Monday, April 10
After more than 18 hours of sleep, Jim is feeling better. One of our Canadian friends has been dealing with a siege of stomach parasites; since he is recovering nicely, he probably does not have that problem.

Reading group discussed "Heir to the Glimmering World" by Cynthia Ozick. It was an almost unanimous hit. That is the last book we will be reading as a group this year. More goodies to come next year, however. Afterwards, we all trouped up to Morelos for comida. I walked through town and was amazed by the number of people who are already here for the Easter holiday. There are stalls set up on both sides of the main street, there is terrible traffic, no place to park, and there are even police directing traffic. And this is only Monday. Wait until Thursday when things really get going!

Eye still improving. It is always much better when I wake in the morning, but as the day progresses, my vision gets progressively more obscured. I can now read big print, however. Progress.

Disco Report: It started tonight at 7:30 and shut down at 2 AM.

Sunday, April 09, 2006

El Botanero

A couple of Fridays ago we went to a botanero with Fernando. At one of these establishments, you order your drinks -- in this case, beer, and with the beer come botanos or snacks. There are several styles of botaneros, or social clubs. There are the clubs for men only; where ladies with painted-on clothing serve your drinks and food, and whatever else you may be in the mood for. There are those that admit women on certain days or only during certain hours. Then there are the botaneros familia, or family style. These are the clubs that are "suitable" for families, with friendly middle-aged women as the waitresses, strolling mariachi musicians (40 pesos a song, or $3.75), a jukebox and a generally mild atmosphere. It was to the latter style that we went, La Colimilla. The is a botanero that Feernando and Chouy take friends and family frequently. This joint is located on the main road into Manzanillo, so trucks and traffic roar by constantly, but the spirit of the place is quite celebratory and everyone is there to have both a good time and some good food. This particular place is fish only, which included a pulpo cocktail (octopus), a big platter of ceviche, then two types of deep-fried whole fish, one of which was small snapper. For the salad, there was sliced cucumber and jicama. And plenty of beer.

As for the mariaches, there was a band of four elderly gents who played the standards only slightly out of tune. I asked for "El Niño Perdido" (the Lost Child), a gorgeous piece that features the trumpet off in the distance. Well, that was taxing their repertoire. After they finished their selections at our table, the violinist told Fernando that while he knew it, the trumpeter, alas, did not. And if and if the trumpeter doesn't know it, it doesn't get played.

Botaneros play a big part in Mexican social life. There is a very famous establishment in Manzanillio called El Bar Social, located on a corner of what used to be the downtown square by the sea. It has pigeon-specked windows, frosted glass, and a heavy curtain over the doorway that gives one the impression that this was a private enterprise. Inside, there are gentlemen of a certain class -- middle to upper -- sitting enjoying an afternoon of checkers, conversation, cigars and drink with their friends and acquaintances. They were usually dressed in black trousers and sparkling white guayabea shirts, the formal dress of Mexican men of a certain age, along with their Panama hats. It is all very civilized. I understand that in recent years it has been "cleaned up" and that women are now allowed in. Sic transit gloria.

In La Colimilla, however, it was all modern and au courant. Most o f the gents there were working men in jeans, T-shirts and baseball caps. Something has been lost.