WEB OF BELONGING

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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

While listening to my favorite philosopher Charles Eisenstein talk about the “Politics of Hope”, including our profound need for community, I found myself experimenting with his string of words, finding ways to make it resonate for me.  “Web of Belonging” is what I came up with.  If you’ve read my posts in the past, you know that community is a major issue of interest for me.  Beneath it all, I believe, is this need that we all have to belong.

Eisenstein discusses how we used to know the people, the animals, and the plants, as well as the lay of the land, in our neighborhoods, our communities.  We knew the “trials and tribulations” of those around us.  We walked, we talked, we paid attention, we spoke up, we helped out.  Now we have what he calls “a deficit of belonging”.  He says our true self is the sum total of all our relationships.  I believe him.

And so I began thinking about all my relationships, both present and past, both here in México and back in the States.  I began to see how interrelated they all are, no matter how far apart, and how important each one is to me in my new life as a retired expat in a foreign country (including my partnership with Ben Dyer, though I’m not addressing that specifically).  And how being here has contributed to my understanding that I already have that community I’ve been searching for.

In a way, it starts here: Ben and I attended an annual cousins party in Virginia in 2017 where he told his cousin Gayle that we were going to Ajijic and thinking of living there. The surprise was that she had been here because her best friend (Weezie) and her husband (Burgess) live here.  She connected us with them, we ultimately housesat for them, and we continue to be friends now that we are residents here.  Then we found out an artist (Judy Miller) Ben had known years ago had just moved here.  We contacted her.  She introduced us to her casita renters Janie and Norman who introduced us to their former co-workers who’d followed them here, Diane and Len.

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Sydney, Diane, Miquel, Adriana, Alejandra, Len

Through gatherings of these folks we met others.  Then we started meeting people moving here from North Carolina (Alex and Meg) and they introduced us to some of their friends (Ana, Gerardo, and Don), some of them from our home state (James and Evan, Ernie and Ritch).  Gringo Dick sells his handmade jewelry at the weekly local market and befriended Ben as a fellow jeweler and mentor.  He and his wife Eleanor have taken it upon themselves to introduce us to others they know, having lived here nearly 20 years.  There are other local friends like Linda Joy and Alex (Facebook friends), Tanya and Jim (from Spanish class).  And those you see only in passing, maybe only once, but you know they are part of your community.

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The first house we moved into was in a small neighborhood with 4 houses in close proximity all rented by gringos, surrounded by other gringo and Mexican families.  We quickly became friends with Vidette (and her friends Patty and Michael), Pete and Gethyn, Bill and Barbara, and have remained so even though we have all moved to other parts of town.  Beto and Shari, behind us then and now just outside the gate, became friends at the same time.

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Beto, Shari, & Lelu

 

Through the Tuesday market we’ve met vendors we now consider friends: Alejandra, Maria, Miguel and Adriana, Nora, Georgina and Peter, María Elena and Gaby.  Our handyman César and his lovely family have become our friends.  We love our dog groomer Joel right down the street, and the sweet, energetic vet Laura who comes to our house.  We walk every morning and look forward to the greetings of the community gate guards and the other folks walking their dogs.  The farmer who plows the field behind our house and the Mexican laborers building a nearby dwelling are familiar to us.  The coffee grinder across the street from the ATM and the juice man in front of the pharmacy greet us any time we pass by.  Owners of small restaurants like Vegan Town (Tulú), Goshas (Fernando and David), and Machi Ma (Jorge and Jessica and their children) and Juan who delivers food for a local restaurant, have all become familiar smiling faces. Francisco from Hidalgo Papalería where I buy cards, Antonio who delivers fruits and vegetables, Gerardo who delivers Costco orders, our pool guy Chuy, and our housekeeper Alba have all become part of our lives here.  Mexicans and gringos living in our gated community and nearby houses have become folks we connect with and want to know better.

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Francisco

Even our trips through the little bit of México we’ve seen have broadened our world of friends.  In Oaxaca our friend Norma introduced us to her landlord and family, and to villagers who then invited us to join in their community celebration last summer.  Our trip to Pátzcuaro and the lakeside craft villages introduced us to Victoria who owns Hotel Casa Encantada, her staff, and well-loved guide Jaime, of Animecha Tours.  In the villages we connected with artisans and maintained Facebook friendships with some, including Nicolas Fabián and his wife Rosario, both potters with love of gardening and cooking.

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Rosario & Nicolas

And so it grows, this web of friendships, connecting with our family and friends from the States.  I’ve stayed in touch with my best friend from high school, Debbie, and recently  had conversations with Elaine in Florida and Margaret in St. Thomas, both former co-workers and now dear friends. I’m still in touch with  fellow Healing Touch practitioners Amenie, in Virginia, and Denise, in Hillsborough, Elizabeth in Washington state.  And former co-workers from my nursing career, Valarie, Marion, Shelton, Michal and Josiah, Cherry, Kelly (all in NC), and Joan in Colorado.  My dear friend Amy (Atlanta) from my early days of marriage is regularly on my radar.  Neighbors from our Hillsborough home, Christine and Blair are still in contact.  Robin, who gave me my first massage practice space, calls and writes regularly.  Mary in Chapel Hill is still in touch.  Onja and Bill in Durham have visited us here twice.

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Onja & Bill

There are others: Diana, Susan, Sam, Mary, Bill and Anita, all introduced to me by my daughter-in-law Toni.  Craft show friends Andy and Kathy, Leigh and Alan, Sydney, Andrée and Dave.  Bill and Karen in California, Ben’s sister Melanie and her husband in Oregon, Karl in Sweden, and even famous writer and Facebook friend, Luis Alberto Urrea, whose posts I respond to almost daily.  And dogs.  Don’t forget our dogs.

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Melanie, Daniel, & Ben

And, of course, my family: son Japhy and his wife Toni, my granddaughter Hazel Grace; my cousins Kay and Debbie (Danny, Kathi, and Pat, too), my nephew Richard and his wife Maria and their children Erick and Camilla. And others I’ve probably failed to mention though their names and faces glide through my mind as I realize that all this time that I have been desperately searching for community…it was right here in front of me!  It’s all in your perception.05D5D43E-C428-4A57-91CE-A4B452F9037C

 

This list of people, whose names I’ve given intentionally, this scattered far and wide council, is my community, my web.  The connection that gives my life meaning and purpose, that keeps me moving forward in this unexpectedly difficult time in our world.  Think about it…who makes up your Web of Belonging?

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RUG WEAVERS OF OAXACA

Pandemic Effects: Episode 1

Pondering the effects of the current pandemic brings to mind all those Mexican people I have met, heard, or read about since I’ve been here who are caught in the grips of such mind-boggling change while trying to carry on their normal day to day routines.  I fear for their lives, for their health, and for their subsistence.  Let me tell you about the rug weavers of Oaxaca.

Forty minutes south of Oaxaca City, nestled in the hills, is the Zapotec village of Teotitlán Del Valle, “Land of the Gods”.  Legend has it that the villagers never used rugs, that their weaving was originally for cloth and clothing and that after a villager visited Texas and saw thick wool weavings on the floors, everything changed. Still other sources say that the change was driven by gringo dealers coming south to find a cheaper source for “Navajo-style” rugs.  What we know for sure is that in the mid-twentieth century the farming village of Teotitlán became a tourist town with generations of self-governing villagers working together, proudly and patiently producing their quality rugs.

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Weaving started in Mexico with backstrap looms, but with the Spanish conquest of 1521 came the pedal loom, along with Churro sheep for wool and mineral salts and oxides for toning and fixing dyes.  Men became the primary weavers, often standing for hours at a time.  Nearly everyone in the village became involved in some way.

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Raw wool, imported or local, is used for weaving the famous rugs. Women generally clean and card the raw wool, then spin it into yarn.  Years ago synthetic dyes took over the trade, decreasing the price and easing the whole process.  But eventually local weavers realized the synthetic dyes were often toxic and not as desirable for consumers.  Gradually many began switching back to natural dyes as a way to stand out in their trade.  Some do their own dyeing.  Others obtain the dyed yarn from the workshops they weave for.

The Chavez Santiago family of Fe y Lola Rugs, one of the most famous weaving families in Teotitlán, shares their land with my friend Norma Schafer.  While visiting her last July I was lucky to see their clothesline covered with miles of strands of gorgeous freshly dyed yarn hanging in the sun to dry.  We also visited the workshop of Francisco Martínez Ruiz and his wife Maria Del Lourdes (above) where they gave us a beautiful demonstration of their entire process, a process that takes many hours to complete.  I learned quickly that carding and spinning are not as easy as they look.

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The rug dyes of Mexico are famous, with many stories to tell.  Probably most famous are the reds of the cochineal insect and the blues of the indigo plant from the Isthmus of Tehuantepec.  There is a wonderful book called A PERFECT RED by Amy Butler Greenfield that tracks the history of red dyes, concentrating on the use of the cochineal insect that feeds on the liquid of the nopal, or paddle, cactus.  Dried and crushed they produce an amazing deep red color.  The indigo plant produces a deep denim blue.  Other dyes come from tree bark, nuts, mosses, leaves, and flowers (such as marigolds), and a complex system of mixing and/or over-dyeing renders a variety of deep, soft colors.  (I also referenced MEXICAN TEXTILES: Spirit and Style by Mask Takahashi and TEXTILE FIESTAS OF MEXICO by Sheri Brautigam, which includes a chapter on Teotitlán Del Valle by my friend Norma.)

 

The patterns of Oaxacan rugs cover a wide variety of symbols, some ancient, some modern.  Rug patterns are taken from paintings, Navajo symbols, geometric shapes, and ancient symbols of Mexico.  The Greek key, mountains, snails, feathers, and candles appear, as well as symbols of the ancient Aztecs.  As younger weavers who chose to stay involved in the family business step in, more modern symbols and custom designs appear as well.  Learn more about the history, patterns, and process of rug weaving in Oaxaca from Norma Schafer’s blog Oaxaca Cultural Navigator.

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I had heard about Oaxacan rugs for years so when we visited San Miguel De Allende in 2016 I knew I had to go shopping.  Our trip to the weekly organic market, geared toward the local gringo population, turned up an authentic Oaxacan rug weaver and his teenage daughter.  So many gorgeous rugs to choose from!  I picked a runner for our hallway back home and asked them to ship it.  No problema.  I couldn’t imagine how long it would take to get to North Carolina or what shape it would be in.  “Don’t worry,” another gringa told me.  “It’ll arrive packaged like you won’t believe and it won’t take that long.”  Two weeks later a package the size of a small shoebox arrived, surrounded by rows of duct tape.  There was my rug in perfect condition.

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Taking my cues from Norma, I was struck by a beautiful 8′ x 10′ rug on the floor of the rental house we looked at before moving down.  Not for sale, sorry.  A month later I received a message from the previous renter: Our hearts are broken but we cannot use the rug in our small house.  Would you like to buy it?  The answer is below.  My treasure.  All natural dyes.  From the famous Porfirio Gutierrez workshop in Teotitlán.

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So it is these people that I worry about.  Tourist trade has decreased dramatically with the pandemic.  I have no idea how online or gallery sales might be going.  The rug trade sustains the village of Teotitlán Del Valle.  My experience with the people there is that they know how to take care of each other, how to survive.  They are resourceful and dedicated so I hope they will figure it out.  Many are resistant to the mandates of masks and social distancing.  It is not their way.  Whatever will be, will be.  Blessings to all the hardworking people of Teotitlán.  Here’s to better times ahead.

 

100 DROPS OF RAIN

It rarely rains here in January so when the huge intermittent drops started hitting the stone floor of the courtyard outside my bedroom window, I woke up.  2:30 AM. Ruminating.

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The Truth is…

This move has been dang hard.  We’ve been sick &/or exhausted a lot of the time. We’ve been to doctors more in 14 months than in the last few years.  Bronchitis, salmonella, flu?  Our immune systems took a major hit starting last fall when we had repairs & remodeling going on at the same time that the estate sales folks were prepping for our big sale.  It let up a little bit when we first got here.  Adrenaline kicked in.  We were excited, on a high.  I guess we pushed too hard for too long.  And tried to adjust to new food, new germs, new ways of doing almost everything.  Then the construction started in October.  One layer too much.

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The noise here is very difficult sometimes.  We’ve lost our view.  Construction is going on on 3 sides of us, one side right up against our bedroom wall.  A pick ax is a popular tool here.  You wonder what they’re chipping away at hour after hour.  The truth is that when you need to add electrical wires in a brick wall, you simply chip away a gulley to lay it in.  Loud music doesn’t bother us much anymore.  But roof dogs & hammers & buzz saws are over the top now.  We expected noise but now we understand how much we valued our quiet back in our old neighborhood.  Do people leave because of it?  I don’t know.  Maybe they just change locations.  We will do the same.

Gringos here still get caught up in fast pace life…Mexicans, thankfully, slow it down.  At a recent yoga workshop of about 20 gringos the teacher spoke of the relentless multitasking in our lives.  I couldn’t help but wonder why this was a topic.  Would a class of Mexicans hear the same speech?  Didn’t I move to Mexico to enjoy its slower pace?  That slower pace we know as “mañana”?  Where tomorrow means “whenever I can get there”.  Where people move slow enough to greet each other on the streets & celebrate with their families on a near monthly basis.

Integrate? Learn Spanish to integrate?  We are truly just guests here so it warrants the effort to speak the local language.  My original goal was to be able to interview elderly Mexican women & order food in restaurants.  That last goal came easily.  The first one has been a significant challenge with my poor memory & lots of distractions.  Letting it go would take the pressure off.  Until I needed to communicate.  Guess I’ll keep going. 

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I’ve changed…I’m more tolerant & less judgmental.  I try to understand that trash in the street is a reflection of at least 2 things:  different values & a flailing infrastructure.   I value my friends, old & new, more than ever.  I’m more apt to accept them for who they are & who they have been or hope to be.  For being human.  Like me.

I’m more willing to try new things, to stretch myself.  “Every day try something that scares you” quotes a magnet given by a friend.  Moving here was the biggest leap, of course.  Getting my Mexican driver’s license, my permanent visa, & taking road trips into unknown territory.  Taking a small boat into a harbor full of humpback whales was something I never dreamed of doing, having been raised in a fearful home, afraid of deep (or murky) water (among other things).  It was astounding to be on that silver-black bay with creatures from a world so much larger than my own.  Connected to Mother Earth.  Grateful.

IMG_6582Why do I stay?  Because it is still a grand adventure.  For the most part the local people are kind, friendly, & helpful.  It is easy to create a community of local friends with the abundance of interesting people here.  And I love Mexico, with all its quirks, & want to explore it further.  Once we get our feet on the ground.  Some folks seem to settle right in.  Or maybe they just don’t talk about the difficulties.  For us, retiring, closing down a business, leaving behind friends of many years, &, of course, family, coming to a new country where nearly everything is a learning curve & you barely, if at all, speak the language, ranks in those top 5 life events that can really send you tumbling.  But we’re determined.  We’ll find a way.

 

 

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The rain stopped.  Huge splattering drops we may never even notice in the morning.

 

MASTERS OF ARTS

Once a year, in November, the masters of Mexican crafts come to Chapala, Jalisco, Mexico, thanks to Los Amigos del Artes Popular (ladap.org). LADAP began in 1996 with weekend socials and visits to collectors home.

Membership has grown to over 350 people in the US and Mexico, with dues and guided tour fees going to support the Feria. LADAP “honors, celebrates, and promotes Mexican folk art”. Its main purpose is to support continuation of indigenous art which is slowly being lost to migration and industrialization. Artisans are not charged booth fees and are often awarded funds to help with transportation of themselves and their wares, as well as housing and social events with local residents. The Feria takes place over three days in a gorgeous spot called The Yacht Club, which of course is right beside Lake Chapala.

For a mere 80 pesos (about $4) you can walk into a maze of the best arts and crafts of Mexico and buy your heart’s desire from textiles to pottery to jewelry and more. From a beginning group of 13 artisans the Feria has now grown to over 80 participants representing a vast portion of Mexico. Some of them have never been outside their villages. Many speak no English and some are illiterate. Food, music, demonstrations, raffle prizes, and fashion shows (Mexican textiles and costumes) round out the annual event that began in 2002. The idea for the Feria originated with Marianne Carlson after she visited 17 indigenous villages around Lake Patzcuaro and knew the hard working artisans deserved a broader audience. This year’s attendance was reportedly the largest in the Feria’s history.

Walking through the crowded tents was like walking through a wonderland for me. I had visited some of the artisans in their studios or bought from them in markets. It felt good to receive their warm welcomes. I knew what I wanted to look for after reading numerous books on textiles and perusing websites, visiting and talking with collectors. But there was so much to see!

The handmade crafts of Mexico are amazing. Color, ingenuity, creativity, and symbolism abound. Detail is often astounding. The artisans are kind, proud, and dedicated.

I did not have deep pockets and I knew I had to be selective. Bargaining is not considered acceptable and prices are not as low as you would pay in the artisans homes and villages. But here you find the finest representative crafts from several Mexican states located in one area, and your purchases support the artisans and continuation of their amazing work. It’s a win-win!

Here in the Lake Chapala area we’re used to seeing the costumes and crafts of the Huichol tribe. They were well represented at the Feria.

Attending the Feria Maestros del Arte was a long awaited and worthwhile experience. Ben and I will definitely go back next year, most likely as volunteers and members of Los Amigos. I’m already looking forward to it!

By the way, you may notice a DONATION button at the bottom of my blog now. The cost of maintaining the WordPress website can be a bit steep if you continue to improve and expand your site. Your donations of ANY amount (through PayPal) are welcomed. Gracias!

FRIDA FROM MEXICO

Frida Kahlo is an icon here in Mexico. You cannot visit any town or city without seeing her image somewhere. I’ve read her biography (there are dozens of books about her, including one for kids), watched the movie with Salma Hayek 3 times, and seen a comprehensive show of her work in Rome, Italy. She is definitely a hero of mine. What was so special about her? And what would she think of being an icon in the twenty-first century?

For Hazie

Magdalena Carmen Frida Kahlo y Calderón was born in Coyoacán central México in 1907 to a German/Hungarian father and a Spanish/Native American mother. She suffered with polio as a young child, exacerbated in her teenage years by a trolley accident on her way home from pre-med school which left her with lifelong injuries. She endured numerous surgeries and taught herself to paint during her recovery periods. After recovering she joined the Communist party and encountered Diego Rivera, whom she’d met earlier when he was painting a mural in her prep school auditorium.

It was Diego, an accomplished muralist, who realized Frida’s talent and encouraged her to continue painting. They married in 1929. Soon after she adopted the indigenous Tehuana dress that became her signature look: flowered headdress, chunky jewelry, and colorful, loose blouses combined with long ruffled skirts. In her earlier days at home, Frida played with her identity, appearing once in a family photo in a man’s suit with slicked back hair.

After traveling in the US with Diego, 2 miscarriages and the death of her mother turned Frida to a less traditional style of painting. Some called her a surrealist, but Diego said that she painted from her heart. Her life of pain, both physical and emotional, became apparent.

(Thanks to Sol Mexicano gallery)

In 1933 the couple returned from the US to Mexico City to separate studios/homes joined by a “catwalk”. As Communists and political activists they hosted many famous figures from the art and political worlds. During this time Frida painted prolifically with encouragement from well-known artists, exhibiting her work in Paris and New York, and establishing herself as a feminine force in a patriarchal world.

Found in a San Miguel restaurant

By 1939 Diego and Frida had divorced after a tumultuous 10 years, both having had numerous affairs. In 1940, however, they reconciled and moved into her family home in Mexico City. During their time there her health begin to decline and she turned to alcohol and drugs for relief. She continued to paint numerous self-portraits even while once again enduring countless hospitalizations and surgeries.

Another restaurant find

In 1953 Frida attended her first solo show in Mexico lying in a bed, the only way she could be there. She died in her home in 1954, reportedly due to a pulmonary embolism.

Thanks to Onja & the NC Museum of Art, Raleigh

Frida’s family home, CASA AZUL (Blue House), in México City, is a much loved museum today, and a testimony to the love and respect Frida and Diego had for the indigenous peoples of Mexico. Before his death Diego requested that his bathroom and Frida’s not be touched for a period of 15 years. Only recently have these rooms been opened, treasures found and catalogued. (See SELF PORTRAIT IN A VELVET DRESS.)

At Hacienda del Lago in Ajijic my friend Diane and I met Priscila Aloneida, a 27 year old artist trained in Guadalajara. When I asked – so you like Frida? – her face lit up. (About Rivera, not so much. “He was a communist.”) “For us she is a hero, for women and artists of Mexico.” She wouldn’t like all the commercialism, do you think? “She wouldn’t mind. She changed everything for us.” Priscila is a delightful young Mexican woman, full of enthusiasm, talent, and wisdom not always encountered in one so young. She currently travels the world painting murals wherever she is asked to go. How does your mother feel about that? I asked. “When I called in the beginning to tell her I wanted to go to Morocco, she said no. There were many phone calls. Then one day I said – Mama, I want to go to Morocco. And finally she said – So go!” And she’s been going ever since. I hope her mother is proud. Frida would be.

MARGARET & MAZAMITLA

We were so happy to welcome my dearest friend of 20+ years to our home last week. She came a long way – from St. Thomas, Virgin Islands – to visit us and see our new home. It felt so good to pick up right where we left off when we saw each other 2 years ago. We did our best to show her the routine things and some of the highlights of our life here in Mexico. Friends, markets, the Malecón, Chapala, restaurants, and an overnight visit to Mazamitla. So come along as I recap our visit.

After resting up from a 3-legged flight with numerous delays, we took Margaret to the Wednesday tianguis (market) then met friends at Go Bistro! for dinner. Lovely place with nice atmosphere and yummy food.

Next day we were off to show her Chapala, our nearby town of about 35-40,000 residents, with a strong Mexican flavor and a beautiful malecón. A weekend destination for Guadalajarans, Chapala was once a short term home for Tennessee Williams while writing A Streetcar Named Desire. Recent rains brought in fields of lyria, land-locking small fishing boats for weeks. The market in Chapala is open daily, stocked with meat, vegetables, cheese, candies, fruit, etc. as well as several outdoor eateries, a great spot for authentic food and people watching.

In an effort to find another source of authentic Mexican food – Ajijic more often caters to gringo tastes – we found our way to Viva México Restaurante, where the food and service are always top notch. A new place opened in Ajijic recently and we found it pretty tasty! El Sombrero, former furniture display room, with an owner from the Yucatan, now serving to please!

Driving toward Mazamitla we traveled past the berry growing town of Jocotepec on the west end of Lake Chapala, with beautiful views of the mountains and lake. Once we arrived at our destination we quickly figured out that the “sleepy mountain town” isn’t so sleepy on Sundays. But we enjoyed our little cabins and walks to town, nonetheless, especially on Monday when the crowds had cleared.

Mazamitla (Nahuatl for “place where deer are hunted with arrows”) is a mountain town in the state of Michoacán, established in 1165 by the Aztecs. The evergreen and deciduous forests contribute to its architecture which includes wooden beams, doorways, stair rails, and balconies, atypical for México. This “get away” town is mostly known for its unusual cathedral, built around the mid-20th century and believed to have been influenced by Chinese architecture. The sanctuary was packed when we visited on Sunday so we didn’t go inside but outside by the entrance I found a heart-shaped container for depositing bottle caps for charities.

Wandering through el Centro there was much to see. Street vendors and the town market caught our attention most. Colors, colors, everywhere, inside and out. Neat and orderly store shelves packed with kitchen items, candy, garden supplies, you name it. And food, always food. La Troje Restaurante is highly rated for its food and service. It’s a busy place where the walls are covered with pictures of movie stars. It’s popular with visiting Mexicans and gringos alike.

Heading home on a gorgeous Monday. We saw this little village on our way up the mountain and decided to check it out on the way back. “The apple of peace” is a sweet and friendly little village, mostly quiet with few people milling about. We’ll go back sometime and stick around a bit.

A sweet ride home. Beautiful scenery with little traffic. The clouds lie on the mountaintops nearly every day, in incredible formations. We’ve craved quiet lately with construction going on on 3 sides. We’re searching for our next dwelling. For a few minutes I thought I saw it…here on the other side of the lake, with only the sound of a gentle breeze.

It was hard to tell Margaret good-bye, we so rarely see each other. It’s been 2 years and Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever was rearing its ugly head last time we were together, unbeknownst to me (until after she left). Two friends, close as sisters, bumping into each other every year or two, picking up where we left off each time. We both chose life “outside the box”, in far away places. Neither of us content with the status quo. We’ve both experienced a lot, learned a lot. And I hope it will always be that way, picking up the threads each time we meet. Adios, mi hermana! Hasta luego! Thank you for coming.

CELEBRATION!

Independencia…70th birthday (Ben’s)…family and friends…September was time to celebrate!

Every year in September Mexico celebrates its independence from Spanish rule. A long weekend is filled with festivals, parades, contests, dancing, special food, and “El Grito”, the battle cry for independence. Raised in 1810 by Miguel Hidalgo, the battle cry stirred the citizens to fight for freedom in a war that lasted over eleven years. All over Mexico the recitation of Hidalgo’s speech occurs at the same time on Independence Day Eve (September 15th): delegados, mayors and even the country’s president recite the famous battle cry known as “El Grito”. Crowds of Mexicans gather in plazas around the country to hear the famous words. Es muy importante para Méxicanos!

Ben celebrated his 70th birthday for days it seemed. But the highlight was a party of fifty guests held in the home of our friend Judy Miller, who’s sister Carla was celebrating her birthday as well. We’re still a bit amazed at the number of people we’ve connected with already. And we loved it that Ben’s sister Melanie and her husband joined us from Oregon. A good time was had by all!

And the fun continued! Beautiful weather. Great for exploring the town of Chapala.

And in the midst of it all – Global Climate Strike. A “celebration” of sorts as young and old step forward to raise awareness and demand action on the state of our world. I had reached out looking for folks interested but got very little response. With company coming and a party to organize I just didn’t have time to make something happen. But two days before the Strike an email arrived from Democrats Abroad announcing a gathering of support on the day after the international Strike. I was only able to go for thirty minutes before the party but it was wonderful to be part of the small crowd that stood on the street (Carretera) with signs as passersby waved and honked their allegiance. It was exhilarating!

We’re moving into October now. The temperatures are lovely – apologies to those of you suffering in North Carolina. The vibrant green of the mountains is losing a bit of its luster though small trees provide patches of fragrant yellow flowers dot the hillside. We are grateful.

We’ve been here ten months now. The building going on around our rental house is increasing along with the accompanying noise of hammers and saws. We’re contemplating our next move. Feeling a bit steadier on our feet, speaking a bit more Spanish, it is nearly time to find another home. The thought of moving is “unsettling” but not nearly as daunting as ten months ago. Life is good here. Not perfect. But good. We’ll see what’s next. Meanwhile, VIVA MÉXICO!

GLOBAL #CLIMATE STRIKE!

16 year old Greta Thunberg landed in the US recently after crossing the ocean from Sweden in a zero emissions boat, avoiding the oversized carbon footprint of long distance flying. It must have been a true assault on her senses to go from the sounds of the ocean to the chaos of New York City. “What is the difference in thinking about climate change here and in Sweden?” interviewer Trevor Noah asked her. “Here (in the US) people think ‘ I believe it’ or ‘ I don’t know if I believe it’. In my country we know it is true.”

“Why do you think it’s such an issue for younger people?” “Some older people say ‘I’ll be gone anyway so screw it’, but it’s our future.”

According to Greta – and don’t doubt that she has her facts straight – 200 species go extinct EVERY DAY…EVERY DAY. And we have only 8 1/2 years to turn things around. Some say it is already too late.

Noah to Greta: What is the ONE thing you would have people do? Greta: EDUCATE THEMSELVES.

I am hopeful that the articles and links below will help inform you:

https://www.lifeworth.com/deepadaptation.pdf


https://truthout.org/articles/in-the-face-of-climate-collapse-we-need-the-wisdom-of-elders/

On September 20th and 27th (bracketing the UN Action Climate Summit) teachers, students, and employees will walk out (or call out) of class or work to stand with the GLOBAL CLIMATE STRIKE (https://globalclimatestrike.net/) and FRIDAYS FOR FUTURE (https://www.fridaysforfuture.org/). Adults are being asked to stand with the strikers, forcing the issue that “business as usual” will no longer solve our problems. At this point the future of the upcoming generations is in the hands of the world’s political leaders. We MUST get their attention.

On September 21st people all over the world will come together for World Cleanup Day (https://www.worldcleanupday.org/). My day was planned before I knew about this event so here’s what I’ve decided to do: I will email and message family and friends (ahead of time) asking everyone to spend TWO hours that morning cleaning up their streets, parks, creeks, rivers, etc. as a show of faith for the Global Climate Strike and Mother Earth. JOIN ME. GATHER YOUR FRIENDS AND LOVE YOUR MOTHER!

There is much to be said. But I leave you with the above for now. Stay tuned!

PÁTZCUARO – AHH!

The town of Pátzcuaro (pats-kwaro) lies about three and a half hours from Ajijic, a gorgeous drive on an excellent tolled highway. Part of the thrill for me was going into geography that looks very much like the mountains of North Carolina where I was born and spent many years, though twice as high at 7200′. The colonial town of Pátzcuaro (or PTZ) was established around 1320 and has become a mecca for tourists and craft collectors. The indigenous people and crafts of the area give it a special old town feel. Lago (Lake) de Pátzcuaro is within sight and surrounded by small villages well known for various Mexican crafts. With the Spanish Conquest came “Tata Vasco” (Father Vasco) who assured that each village specialized in a specific craft, removing the element of competition and at the same time offering them a livelihood. After checking into Victoria Ryan’s beautiful B & B Hotel Casa Encantada, we were privileged to spend 3 delightful days with tour guide Jaime Hérnandez of Patzcuaro Magic Tours as he gave us a broad sampling of a few lakeside villages. Let me introduce you:

Lake Pátzcuaro

So much to tell. Our first morning there we ventured into town, just a block or so away, and strolled through the 3 town plazas centered around churches. The main plaza is one of the largest in Mexico, providing a place for lovers, musicians, demonstrators, dancers, students, and anyone else interested in being out and about. Restaurants and craft stores, strollers, and performers abound.

Friday afternoon. Visited the wonderful cultural museum where the guide spoke very little English but was patient with my Spanish. One of my favorite rooms was filled with indigenous clothing, some of which we saw in the streets. Afterward, time to eat. La cena. We went to a restaurant we’d seen earlier but the door was closed, though not bolted. I stepped over and said “Hola” to the gentleman in the window. He excused himself from his meeting (oops!) and invited us inside. Turned out they were filming a TV show of famous regional cook Victoria Gonzalez Chavez and we were the only customers. Seated in a narrow central room we had a birdseye view of the filming while enjoying THE best Mexican food I’ve ever had. The manager, Eloy, was most gracious, as was his staff, who waited on us patiently as we did our best to interpret the Spanish menu. Señor Eloy rushed into the room to check on us while the TV crew rearranged for the next set. Luckily one of the crew spoke English and informed us that the manager was apologizing for leaving us “isolated” and hoped we enjoyed our meal. We went back a few days later hoping to thank him but ended up leaving a card instead. What a fun adventure!

Now, let’s go see the artisans! First on the docket, Santa Clara del Cobre.

Kids being filmed, copper museum, and carnitas on the street!

Cuanojo – Though famous for brightly painted furniture, the latest version of which includes characters from the movie COCO, we went to visit Jaime’s “secret treasure”, Nati. Nati’s small concrete block house with outdoor kitchen is at the end of a small dirt foot trail, surrounded by cornfields. Her award winning belts are created on her backstrap loom AFTER she hoes the corn and makes her tortilla dough for the day. Nati is “disabled” by a clubfoot and must always use crutches, but her smile is a mile wide as she welcomes us into her home. I walk away with one of her prize belts, adorned with complex prehispanic symbols, patterns Nati carries in her head and teaches her family with cardboard, string, and sticks.

Tupataro – Home of a 18th century church filled with history and legends, brought to life by our guide Jaime. An effort to preserve the amazing church dictates only one photo per visitor. The ceiling decoration began in 1725 and was used as a “brochure” for educating the indigenous population and winning them to Christianity.

Quiroga – Named after the Catholic “bishop” Vasco Vázquez de Quiroga who fought for fair treatment of the indigenous populations after the Conquest. We visited a family who creates candelabras and incense holders for local churches.

Santa Fe de la Laguna – Home of Nicolás Fabián and Rosario Fermín, internationally known potters. And two of the kindest people I’ve ever met. Rosario is a revered cook and her cocina shows it. She’s been invited to Ajijic to cook at a celebration in December. Hoping to see her!

Also home of the first “Pueblo Hospital”, a gathering place for indigenous residents, founded in 1533 by “Tata” Vasco Quiroga and run by a council of elder men. At a ceremony each Friday a newly wed couple is chosen to clean the church and replace the flowers for the week. Outside the women gather in celebration, cooking for the entire week, though not this week. And one more secret treasure – this Santa Fe is home of the people who inspired the characters for COCO.

Tzintzuntzan – Home of the hummingbirds. Here we visited the award winning potters Luis Manuel Morales Gamez, who has shifted to more modern designs, then Guadalupe García Rios, who creates her own line of ceramics with her daughters (and grandchildren). We came away with only small items as prices run high here.

Around the lake then to a women’s embroidery cooperative run by Teófila and Bertha Servín. I’d been looking for “storytelling” embroidery and found it here in abundance. Exquisite work.

Tocuaro – Home of Felipe Horta, master mask maker. Avocado and copal wood are used for the masks as they are abundant, lightweight, and easy to work with. December brings a special event where the “3 wise men” travel from home to home to visit baby Jesus in the family creche. But, wait! Who’s that masked man getting in the way??? It’s the Devil, who wants no part of Jesus worshiping!

“Jimmy” Horta’s studio was our next stop. Ear to ear smile while he showed us the technique he invented for carving reeds into figures. Delightful!

Uneamich is a furniture factory that used to employ 300 locals. It now has 60 employees. The painted furniture and accessories there are beautifully done and can be custom ordered. Painters Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera once visited this town. Even now, the streets bustle.

Jacucuaro – This town was an island until the 1970’s when a dam was built connecting it to nearby villages. Reeds are abundant along the water’s edge and are collected for use in other towns. But here the hat-makers use palm fibers grown in hotter areas of Michoacán. Many are employed here, young and old alike, to split, braid, bundle, and transport the palms for hat-making. The smaller the braid, the finer the hat. If you want to show off at a celebration, you buy the best. $20-$30. Erasmo Bautista is doing well. He has a new studio and nicer home than most of the artisans we visited.

Back in Pátzcuaro the markets bustle. So much to see and smell. Funny, a local warned us not to eat the street food there. After sharing his reasons I was glad I hadn’t been tempted!

Notes of interest along the way…

We leave today and I resist! I love having my breakfast served and my room cleaned every day leaving me free to walk through the gorgeous lower patio, through the gate, and out into the streets seeking adventure. This place, the large nearby green fields, the beautiful mountains, the lake, hold me gently. Nurture me. It took me years to feel at home in Hillsborough. Yet every place we visit in Mexico calls my name on some level. I wonder where it will take me next.

I leave you with this…on a Sunday morning walk I spied an elderly woman exiting her door to take a seat on her stoop. Addressing her and asking permission, I reversed my camera orientation and showed her her picture. As she giggled I snapped two shots then showed them to her. “Oh, Señora, Señora!” she said with laughter as she covered her face. I wonder how long it had been since she’d seen her own image.

Ahh…Pátzcuaro!

CONNECT THE DOTS

As I continue to read the work of Joanna Macy and Jem Bendell and continue to consider the state of our Earth and our global society, it comes to me that this move to Mexico has had a bigger purpose than I imagined in the beginning. I now believe that I am here to learn about community (see my post COMUNIDAD from early July) and its broader meaning. Here in Mexico, where family is so very important and everyone comes together for the good of all. Now my task is to create community for myself from a sea of strangers.

In searching the internet for ideas about what community means, I came across a post called “Community is Everything: How to Build Your Tribe” in Inc. This Morning newsletter. Miki Agrawal gives her ideas about creating her “tribe”. She’s hand-picked her members of “inspiring friends” who “challenge me to be the best version of myself and support me through the great and the not-so-great.” Here’s her list of how to nurture your group: “Express happiness when you see your people…Let everyone share stories and participate…Forget the small talk (dig in)…Give credit as often as you can…Instill confidence — it’s free…Challenge your people to push themselves…Connect people!” I love her ending statements: “Don’t make friends just to make friends. Build the right community…(It) is so much more about what you put in than what you get out.” This young person has great wisdom already. I think of these words as I meet and interact with people. Perhaps because of my age I am “pickier” as well. No time for small talk. Now the climate issue — the Great Turning — has become an important conversation for me. And there is much to say. Many of you know how terribly serious I can be. I’m counting on my new community to help me see how much fun there is to be had! (Like the concert by Celia Farran that I attended with my Spiritual Friends tribe yesterday. Her songs are connecting and soulful.)

Coffee shops and markets, fiestas and concerts. Hiking, traveling, classes. Walking around the village. All places to find folks to connect with. People are anxious to connect here, anxious to tell their stories. Just by moving here we often have a great deal in common.

We found this house in the country at the last minute a year ago. Luckily we landed in the midst of a mixed community that looks out for each other. My growing Spanish allows me to interact with the Mexican families on a casual level. The neighbors behind us are gringo & Mexican, bilingual, and often helpful in figuring out the politics and protocols of the Mexican world. I understand there are some gringos here who hide away and see the local culture only as servants. But most are here to be involved in and learn about the culture I believe. Hopefully we can learn from each other.

Here in Ajijic I have the opportunity to create the “right community”. But I am also realizing that my community does not have to be just here. It includes friends (and family) from everywhere I’ve lived previously, as well as those I’ve yet to meet. In fact, new friends are arriving here from North Carolina in October and January. We’ve met, shared some good times, connected by email and Facebook, and look forward to getting to know each other. From St. Thomas, Virgin Islands to Sweden, from Ohio, Florida and Oregon, from North Carolina, my home state, and from Oaxaca and Teotitlan del Valle to Ajijic, Jalisco, Mexico, we are all community. We are all family, by birth, choice or circumstance. We are all in this together. We are all One. Connecting the dots.

DON’T WORRY – BE HAPPY

I’ll make this short. Several of you who read my blog have expressed concern either to me or to my partner Ben about my last post.

Yes, it was emotional. Yes, I wear my heart on my sleeve. Yes, my blog is my journal of whatever I’m feeling at the time. July was a very intense month with amazing joy as well as deep sadness. But I’m OK. I’m fine. And I thank you all for your concerns. I love Mexico. Don’t want to return to the US. Don’t know if this is our final settling place. But I’m up for the adventure!

Don’t worry! Be happy! And gracias mis amigos.

FALLING INTO GRACE

Coming back from North Carolina to Mexico has been traumatic to say the least. Like falling. Slow mo. Into a state of grace. Of tenderness and vulnerability. Jet lag and raw emotion. Leaving family and friends behind when my body/mind has not completely settled into my new country.

Grace, a multidimensional term meaning, well, several things. Here’s the spiritual definition from Wikipedia: “the divine influence which operates in humans to regenerate and sanctify, to inspire virtuous impulses, and to impart strength to endure trial and resist temptation; and as an individual virtue or excellence of divine origin.” Wow. Loaded, huh? And my mind is loaded, full of emotions and plans and thoughts of all I’ve experienced, read, seen, felt over the past month. Or perhaps I should say the past 8 months. That’s how long we’ve been here now. The excitement worn a bit thin at times, yet so much left to experience. What I’ve realized is: 1) 2 big trips (Oaxaca & NC) in the same month is too much for me, 2) I need at least 3 days to recover after such intensity, and 3) I do miss the relative cleanliness and quiet of our old neighborhood. No point in denying it. But the biggest piece, the overriding essence of it all, keeps coming up as Family and Community. And for that I am willing to fall into grace.

My primary motivation for this trip? To see my granddaughter turn 6 months old before starting daycare. Her name is Hazel Grace, better known as “Hazie”. She is my pride, my joy; first child of my only child, my son Japhy. She has taken my heart and given it new meaning, just as she has for her parents. She is bright-eyed and curious and ever-searching for the next adventure. Toni says she’ll bring her to visit someday. I’m counting on it!

FRIDAY: After 5 days with my son and his family I headed to Durham on the train to visit with girlfriends for my 68th birthday. (Trains are thrilling to me. One of the things my mother introduced me to at the age of 2 when she took me to NJ to visit relatives.) Those four girlfriends picked me up, drove me wherever I needed/wanted to go, wined and dined me, and listened to my story for hours on end. I talked so much my throat was raw. High on it all. Soaring. Delighted. Grateful. It was all so familiar and comforting.

Gladys at Ixtapa
Birthday dinner at Luna

SATURDAY: Hillsborough continues to grow like crazy. Old shops turning into new. New restaurants. Construction. Demonstrations. It was good to say Hi to old friends and places. Good to know it was OK not to live there.

Our beloved Farmer’s Market friends. So happy to see these hardworking folks! Sorry not to buy anything this time. I shared our story of visiting a master candlemaker in Oaxaca with a young couple selling beeswax products. Sharing similarities and expanding community a little bit more.

Saturday evening with my dear friend and acupuncturist Robin. She gave me my first space and encouragement as a massage therapist in 2006. We’ve been friends ever since.

SUNDAY: Craft market at the Durham Armory, tour of an old downtown bank, and lunch at Neomonde. I was immediately drawn to the colorful scarves waving like flags in the room full of local artisans. They turned out to be handwoven cotton from villages in India, supported by medical personnel at UNC-Chapel Hill. http://www.GumCha4Health.com. My friend Norma has taught me the value of supporting such causes.

MONDAY: After a relaxing dinner and evening with friends Onja and Bill, it was back to Charlotte on the train the next day. Thanks for the early morning ride to the station Onja!

One more day with my sweet Hazie. It was hard to relax knowing I’d be leaving soon, but I took advantage of every minute I could with the understanding help of her wonderful nanny Lauren.

Leaving Hazie was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Mixed in with all the other emotions was the experience of reading Joanna Macy’s book ACTIVE HOPE during this trip. My son and I had touched on this topic of climate and societal transition before I arrived. I thought we might discuss it while I was there, but I couldn’t do it. There is such joy in their home, wrapped around this child and family, that I couldn’t throw the monkey wrench. The bottom line of the book is coming together as community during this time that the author calls “The Great Turning”. And so I fold them into my love and compassion, held both close and from a distance.

and the hovering clouds

Returning home I fell into hours of fitful sleep, depression, sadness; ungrounded, grumpy and unsettled. The noise, the mess, of Mexico struck me blind after being in the comforts of my old home. Searching for quiet, I donned my new noise canceling headphones (thank you, Son!) and sat in meditation with the aromas of melissa, vetiver, and geranium wafting through the air around me. I followed with a few minutes of yoga and gradually fell, once again, into a sense of grace, of acceptance of a life much different than I’d ever expected. Still searching for my own way of being in this transitioning planet, now bonded with the two upcoming generations, I find myself appreciating, longing, loving, accepting; joyful, patient at times, impatient at others. In my old pattern of overwhelm I sometimes feel there is not time for the necessities of life – shopping, cooking, cleaning, mending. But in reality it is all part and parcel of our blessed time on this Earth. It is now my fourth day back. I can still shed tears with little provocation, especially when I think of my son and his family. But what I know is this: that they, along with the friends I visited near my old home, will always be part of my community, no matter where we all are. And I also know that falling into grace can happen wherever that may be.

COMUNIDAD

Dictionary.com defines community as: a group of people living in the same place or having a particular characteristic in common; a feeling of fellowship with others, as a result of sharing common attitudes, interests, and goals. In Teotitlán I saw and felt this in action.

Casita

Our hostess Norma Schafer lives most of the year in Teotitlán del Valle, about 40 minutes outside of Oaxaca City. (Wikipedia has an interesting page on Teotitlán.) She bonded with a family there while visiting about 14 years ago and ended up building a house AND a relationship. She conserves water since the village reservoir is unseasonably empty due to lack of rain and uses her gray water on her numerous outdoor native plants. She speaks near fluent Spanish with the villagers who greet her warmly and come to her for advice and assistance at times. She wears a specific style of apron to the daily market and buys a alot of her food there as the village women do. Her regular walking schedule takes her into the beautiful high desert “campo” – country – with her dogs Tia and Butch, an experience she’s happy to share with visitors.

Market

The daily market consists of an open air section with flowers, baskets, tlayudas (extra large tortillas), vegetables, turkeys, etc., and an enclosed section where you find meat, eggs, vegetables, prepared foods, and household goods. Women bring their own containers and baskets. I saw nothing in plastic bags. Flowers were wrapped in newspaper. Prepared foods, including jello made from scratch, go into containers brought from home. Conversation abounds. In a mingling of colors and customs. (I’m told the women also have a special place for a morning shot of mezcal.)

Line up for the mototaxi-done shopping!

Church

The market is right beside the church so it was easy to drop by for a visit. An archeological site is fenced in behind the church, remains of the old Zapotec temple, all but destroyed by the Spanish Catholics. Built from the 1500’s to 1700’s, the Preciosa Sangre de Cristo Church and the market mark the center of village activities.

Wandering through the church yard we came across musicians talking on the patio. When Norma spoke to them in Spanish we were promptly invited to attend the rooftop concert marking the opening of the week’s festivities. We were honored and did not hesitate to climb up the narrow winding staircase. Space was tight but I could not contain my joy. The views and the energy of the music, the inclusion of strangers, was amazing. Back on the ground – or was I? – tears flowed. A small crowd gathered to witness special occasions and the church flowers were changed out by a family who has made a 3 year commitment to service. To their community. Where everyone pitches in.

Village market & sacred Picacho

Artisans

Teotitlán is well known for its handwoven rugs. Weaving has brought the town recognition and income, driving the village leaders to seek Pueblo Magico status (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pueblo_M%C3%A1gico). Norma stopped in front of a wall with a metal gate – “Go knock on the door”. A few minutes later Francisco Martínez Ruiz opened the door to his rug weaving studio, where wool is carded, spun, and dyed with natural elements of the Earth, creating gorgeous colors that are very distinguishable from synthetic colors to a trained eye. For the next hour or so he and his lovely wife Maria Del Lourdes shared their time and talent with us. We walked away with two gorgeous rugs. Maria will be at the well known feria in Chapala (near Ajijic) this November and I look forward to seeing her lovely smile again.

Another knock on a metal door and we stepped into a Master Candlemaker’s studio. Viviana Hipolito is the Master but on this visit her son and daughter in law were in charge. Viviana was across the dirt street helping prepare for a week long celebration, to which we were invited. This family makes all the candles for the church and the services and celebrations it houses. These candles are not dipped. With a bucket and a ladle the candlemakers pour up to 300!!! layers of wax over the suspended wicks. Thicker ones were off limits on this buying trip. They will be used for the church. A medium size yellow candle was skillfully cut in half and carefully wrapped for my journey home.

Celebration of Community

The invitation was given for Norma and her friends to attend mass and meals for the celebration of La Danza de la Pluma (The Dance of the Feathers) in the home of the lead dancer. It is an honor to be chosen as dancers for this Zapotec interpretation of the Spanish Conquest. Costumes are complex and headdresses heavy. This is a 3 year commitment to dance in every festival and set an example for the community. It is taken very seriously. (We were not able to attend the actual dancing due to our schedule but have seen pictures. Maybe next year.)

We watched as the village women worked together for hours on end, smiling, talking, sweating. Working over hot fires in a camp style kitchen. Young and old together passing their secrets and wisdom along. Chili rellanos were in the works for this day. And a special corn dish in the works for the main meal, to be held the following day after the blessing of the dancer’s costumes and “thrones” at a special mass.

With all items blessed and returned to the family altar, the elder spoke his prayers in Spanish and Zapotec then passed through the crowd offering a simple blessing to each person. Afterward the crowd entered the courtyard and the festivities began.

Ernestina and her friends had been grinding corn and fermented cacao beans for tejate for 5 hours by the time we arrived. They are so proud, so steadfast in their dedication to what they are doing, what they do day in and day out. Though perhaps not always on so grand a scale. You wonder how they do it. If they’re content. But who are we to ask the question. We sat and watched and talked with them as they worked. Never have I felt such connection; visceral, grounded, rooted to this Earth. They know, from a young age, where their food comes from. They know it is not to be taken lightly. And they know it is a matter of community.

We came bearing flowers and 20 loaves of market bread, our “admission fee”. Norma spoke in Spanish. I listened carefully, catching alot, speaking a little. It thrilled me when one man complimented me on my pronunciation. I felt accepted. As we sat we were served like everyone else. Market bread, 4 loaves each, and hot chocolate. Chicken in a thick tomato/corn broth. Tlayudas. Men toasted with thimbles of mezcal followed by 2 “short beers”. Women sat with short beers and soft drinks (refrescos), finally to be served by others. Before you could finish one bowl of chicken another one appeared. A green clay pot was placed by each person. Then a shiny green leaf with a ball of dough to be transformed into the special corn/cocoa drink (tejate). I watched as the seated women began to pour their leftover stew into the green pots and cover them with a tlayuda. Then place the extra bread and the dough in their individual baskets. “This is what it’s all about,” says Norma. “It’s about community. It’s about sending food home to feed your community.” A lot of work. A lot of money. Commitment.

I cannot express the depth of what I felt during the time that I shared with this community. I cannot describe their sweetness, their kindness, their generosity in any way that might make sense. I can tell you that I am grateful. I can tell you that I will go back, that the invitations given to us are taken seriously. That I truly want to be with these people again. It is a motivator to learn Spanish. Norma may not be there next time to guide us. She asked me what I would do differently after this experience. The list is long and growing. But I can tell you what the main thing is. Community. Looking out for each other. Wherever we are. Comunidad. Bless you Teotitlán Del Valle.

Once again I thank Ben Dyer for contributing to this photo essay. And Norma Schafer for sharing her time, energy and expertise. Though it is mostly about textiles, I highly recommend a book written by Eric Sebastian Mindling, a resident of Teotitlán, OAXACA STORIES IN CLOTH. It is a fascinating look at the significance of textiles in the state of Oaxaca and includes a few pages about Teotitlán, as well as a description of the bond of community..