Sunday, April 27, 2008

Where has the time gone?

Today was my last day at Casa Damasco, this is the week of last days everywhere and it isn’t fun. When I got to Casa Damasco I found out we had another death over the weekend, this was not surprising as we all knew this man’s time was almost up. It is always sad though to see an empty seat at lunch time, actually we never have an empty seat as there are always new drop ins and today was no exception. The couple that run the place were not there when I got there which was a bit of a relieve to me as they were the only ones that knew that today was my last day so I figured I could slip out without having to go through all the good-byes. Which is was I did. As I was leaving I said my “normal good-bye” to a gentleman that was sitting right by the door in his wheel chair I noticed he was looking really down. I’ve noticed that in the last 3 weeks he has not been looking very healthy, today he looked a lot worst. I put my hand on his shoulder and asked how he was doing, he looked up at me with incredible sad eyes and said “feeling very bad” I asked what was wrong and he just shrugged his shoulders as if it was nothing, but it was too late I had seen the look in his eyes. It was a look of acceptance, whatever was going on he was willing to accept and not fight it. As I walked out the door I knew I would most likely not see him again, ever. I didn’t bound home as quickly as I usually do, I shuffled along slowly pondering my time spend at Casa Damasco during my stay here. I came to the graveyard that I have passed many times and decided I wasn’t ready to go home so I stepped inside and wandered around for almost an hour. The graveyards here are beautiful; there are sculptures, carvings, paintings, candles and flowers. It’s more like a museum than a graveyard. I didn’t go through the whole place but the oldest grave I saw dated back to 1889.

As I was waiting at the docks for my boat ride home I had a very Mexican moment. There were about 4 small taxi boats docked waiting for their turn (they all take turns) and in 2 of them the captain was sprawled out having a nap totally oblivious to the loud banda music playing from the other 2 boats and the pelicans squawking and the bustling noise from the fish market. They both looked so content and comfortable I suddenly had a huge urge to curl up and have a nap right there, and I could have, nobody would have thought it odd at all. That is what I will miss when I go home, although there is loud ciaos everywhere people can still find peace and quite to have a nap, whether it’s in a hammock or a boat. It’s a different kind of peace here, it lives through the ciaos. I think maybe peace is the wrong word, bliss is more like it....yep, and it’s bliss. I’m livin in bliss. As I walked to my house from the docks I pass 2 decked out cowboys that looked like they came right out of one of John Wayne’s movies, they both put their finger to their hats and tipped their heads and said hello, I recognized them as they are part of one of the beach bands. Further up I pass about 4 gentlemen sitting alongside a fence chatting away, 2 guitars leaning up against the tree that is shading them. I look at my watch and see its 3:30; looks like the cowboys are taking the day off early. It could be because it’s very very hot today or because there are no longer as many tourists on the beach to sing too. (Tourist season is over) I get home and find 2 papayas on my step....thank-you senor papa, I will certainly miss you. I decide to take a walk on the beach to see if I can soak up some of that warm salty ocean air, maybe if I soak up enough of it some of it will come home with me. I pass the meat market and am given a gift by one of the guys, 2 mangos. There is no way I can ever give back to these people what they have given me. I feel like such a traitor for leaving now. Oh well....maybe I’ll feel better if I find a sand dollar. It bugs me how tourists come here for about 3 -4 hours and find beautiful sand dollars and I’ve been here all winter and haven’t ever found one. I think perhaps the tour guides plant them on the beach before they bring the tourists over. I don’t find one today either but I do find a clam shell that’s still closed am rather excited about my little snack I’ll have later when I meet a friend and she tells me that if it’s not a good clam it could make me sick....and a whole bunch of other stuff that I couldn’t understand so I reluctantly throw it back into the sea. So much for my snack.....guess I have to have Strawberries and creama again. Did I tell you, its strawberry season? Well it is and I am liking it. On almost every corner somebody is selling frozen strawberries and creama, like a Popsicle in a cup....sooo good! Did I tell you these people are geniuses? I can’t seem to get enough creama. When I get home I might have to buy a cow and get my own creama and some roosters so that I can sleep, I’m not sure I can sleep without roosters crowing all night. Interestingly enough I have adapted to drinking instant coffee as well, real brewed coffee is hard to find unless you go to a expensive poshy coffee shop (which I did treat myself to once in awhile in the beginning) I never did find real coffee here on the Island but it didn’t really matter because the creama is so thick, rich and creamy it makes a cup of instant coffee taste like a $5 starbucks late. (No I’ve never had one...I’ve heard) You should see me on my roof under my mango tree in the morning with my coffee, I am so content and happy.....livin in bliss I tell ya. When I go to bed at night I’m already thinking of the coffee I’ll have in the morning. OH......another great thing I’ve discovered, Shrimp tamales....oh oh, finger lickin, nose drippin good! Wow! A wonderful discovery; makes me wonder what else is out there that I have just not stumbled on yet. There is more, I know there is. By the way, I’m eating my fruit now with chilli powder and salt....who knew? They are both a little different than the stuff we have at home. Al teases me all the time that I’ve become Mexican, maybe it’s a good thing I’m coming home soon....I’m one step away from wearing rhinestones on my fingernails and I’m getting curious about the deep fried pig guts that they’re selling on the streets. Really curious.

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Casa Damasco...I've come along way

I am now also the only North American volunteer left here as well, it used to be very hard for me to go there as I always left like I was not doing anything to improve the people situation, but I have come to change my way of thinking of the place. I am not there to change anything, or to change anybody, I am there to love the unwanted......unconditionally. I am not there to clean the kitchen or too wash the floors (even thought I want too very badly) I have finally gotten to the point where I don’t see the dirty floor or the dirty dishes anymore, I just see the people now. I wish this wouldn’t have taken me 4 months, what can I say, I’m a slow learner. We have had 4 deaths since I’ve been here, each time it was always a little disheartening because I felt that we didn’t get the miracles that we had prayed for. I know that God allows some people to suffer more than others and that he has a reason for this and I don’t have the authority to know what that reason is.....not everything is my business. I think even Jesus said he didn’t know all God’s business (I’m too lazy to look that verse up but I think it’s there) All he wants me to do is to love the people and he will do the rest, so that is what I am continuing to do. I’m still not able to understand Otencia and everyone tells me she just talks jibberish anyway, works fine for me because mu Spanish sounds like jibberish too. We are getting along just fine, the last 2 weeks I have had to sit with her on the street corner as she refuses to go into the house, she says she is going home and is waiting for a taxi (she’s been waiting for 2 weeks) She has warmed up to me a lot since I got there, she lets me hug her now and even lets me pray for her, mind you if my prayer gets too long she says amen for me. She’s never changed her clothes yet or taken her big winter parka off; she will once in awhile wear the lipstick I gave her. She has told me many times that she has 7 children, if this is true I can totally understand her craziness. If I had 7 children I might very well be sitting on some street corner with all my belongings waiting for a taxi that will never show up as well. (Who knows how I would deal with that many children) I really don’t know what her story is but my heart really does go out to her, I will miss her dearly when I leave. Strange as she is, she is a sweet heart.

My Espanol

I now know enough Spanish to finally be understood, which is sometimes not a good thing. Now that the people can actually understand what I am saying I have to be extra careful what I say. For example, I told my vegetable guy that I needed to buy 2 eyes, and he understood me very clearly..... and started laughing, which is when I realized that I had mixed up the words for eyes and garlic.....they are different by only one vowel and I can’t seem to get them straight. I have had a few more of these funny little mishaps, never anything too serious. There are also some words that I just cannot wrap my tongue or brain around, like the word for “fun” a little 3 letter word that becomes a 10 letter tongue twister, I just stay away from that word all together and use the word “happy” instead. Instead of saying “this was so much fun” I say “this made me so very happy” it works. I have come so far with my Spanish and now I am sad to leave because I know it will just wilt away after I leave and then if I come back I will have to start all over again....or is it like riding a bike? No se’.

Buses......by golly I think I’ve got them figured out

As chaotic as everything else is, the city bus system here is awesome, bear in mind I am comparing it too Africa, Peru and Paris.....not Canada, I have never taken a city bus in Canada. You can go anywhere within the city and municipality of Mazatlan on a city bus (except to Stone Island of course) Way out on the edge of town where Jorge and I go with the puppet truck on what looks like a donkey path we meet city buses. You just have to know which bus goes where, and I can now go anywhere I need to go by bus, no need for the ripper offer taxi drivers anymore. Only once did a bus break down when I was on it, if you saw these buses you would be amazed that that has only happened once to me. I’ve come a long way since living at “Wal-Mart?”

A little sadness

My time here is almost up and I have to think about leaving. I didn’t get to travel as much as I had wanted too. I somehow got too comfortable here and got caught up in everyday life and time just flew by too fast for me. The day I bought my ticket I was quite depressed and had no energy anymore. I felt like I may as well just go home right away instead of feeling this way for another 4 weeks. The very next day a friend took me quading all over the Island and I had so much fun that I almost forgot about my plane ticket home. We went through the coconut plantations, the orange, papaya, lemon and mango groves, Nopale fields (cactus) cow fields, shrimp farms, saw crocodiles, turtles, chickens ( found 3 eggs) cows, all kinds of birds, crabs, bee hives, ant farms, ostriches, goats, donkeys and horses. As we stopped for a break to rub the dust out of our eyes and slurp up 2 coconuts I remembered, 4 more weeks and then no more coconuts for me. On the way home we took the beach way and as the damp salty ocean air blew over me I felt a sadness over come me again. I was sad about having to leave this life behind but I was also very sad that I am so sad to leave. I have a blessed life in Canada, good job, good home, a great family, an awesome church and wonderful friends, what is missing for me there? Why can I not be as content there as I am here? It makes me sad that I am not excited to go home. What is missing? It has to be more than fresh papayas, coconuts and salty ocean air. What is it?

The most beautiful students ever and a Casa Damasco story

Today I announced to my class that I only had 2 more weeks left to teach them (I’m choosing not to work during my last week here) The next question of course was “are you coming back next ear”? I so badly wanted to say yes, but yet didn’t want to give them false hope. I told them I hoped so. Almost all of the students gave me hugs after class today; they are not going to make leaving easy for me. The school director has also asked me if I am coming back next year and if I would be willing to teach here on Stone Island. They have never been able to find volunteers that are willing to come out here to teach and so have not implemented an English program out here yet. I could be the one to change that. I would have loved to be able to teach right here but when I first made the arrangement to teach I didn’t know I would living out here yet. I know I also can’t make that commitment unless I can commit to coming back for at least 4 years in a row, there is no sense in teaching for one year and then if I don’t come back and there is no one to take over after me they have to drop the program. It would be so awesome to be able to give the kids on this Island the opportunity to learn English, for free. Ohhhh I have a story.........
There was a gentleman at Casa Damasco that had fallen on hard times, he was homeless and had no job and of course had no money. He ended up in the hospital with some illness (I can’t remember) while in the hospital someone noticed that his English was very good and after he recovered and was ready to be released he was given a job at the hospital as a security guard. Shortly after that another staff member that had some connection at a big fancy resort in the Golden Zone managed to get him a job as a security guard there. He now has a good job and has managed to save up enough money to rent a little apartment and is doing very well, he would not have been given this job had he not had any English. He may never get rich and fat with this job but he should always be able to pay his rent and buy his food, which certainly beats living on the street or staying at a crowded homeless shelter. Bless the person that taught this man English ( he may just have learned it himself) , bless the person that took the time to notice his English and bless the person that took the initiative to find him a job....this person could have just paid him no attention, he was after all just another homeless person.

It's been awhile, I'm a puppeteer now

It’s been awhile.....I’m a puppeteer now
I haven’t written in a while and that’s certainly not because there’s nothing happening here, there is just never a dull moment here. I’ve been a little busy; there was 3 weeks that I had visitors from home, which was awesome. I got to be tour guide and so I didn’t have a chance to do any writing. It sure was great to share what feels like a total new lifestyle for me. Since I now know more people here on the Island I have actually had people stopping by house in the evening to chat, so I am not quite as alone in the evenings anymore. A lot of the regular North American volunteers with the La Vina Church have headed home and that has left the church a little short handed, which does happen every year at this time. Soooo....... I have inherited yet another job, puppeteer assistant. My good friend Jorge is a puppet master (among a lot of other things) he has an old (remember, old in Mexico and old in Canada are very very different) bread truck that he has modified to be a mobile Sunday school and a mobile puppet show, complete with a stage, a sound system (the Mexican kind) a tickle trunk and anything else you might need to have a puppet show in the middle of a dry dusty open field somewhere. ......and I mean dusty, oh I forgot to mention that this truck does not have functioning doors, they stay open all the time, so you must be careful to not fall off your green plastic lawn chair (there are no seats either) and roll out the door when Jorge hits a speed bump or slams on the brakes for some reason or other. The colonia that we go to on Fridays is a new colonia, which means that most people there are still living in their starter home, a tar paper shack. It’s a shack community just on the outskirts of Mazatlan, there is no indoor plumbing, no paved streets, no sidewalks, but they do have electricity. Every power line has a few handmade kites hanging from it, kite making and kite flying is the main entertainment here....that and us. It amazes me how these kids can make a kite out of plastic grocery bags, a few sticks and some old rags and they sour like birds and I can’t get a $20.00 kite to fly ( I own about 6 non-flying kites ) It looks like a little forgotten community in the middle of a dusty desert. When you see a dust cloud rolling in the distance you stop what you are doing and ponder for a bit as to who may be coming up the road, because a stranger does not drive by very often. Getting there through the back roads with the rickety, shagganappy and rattling bread truck is half the adventure. There used to be a bunch of us laughing and hanging on to each other in the truck and now there is usually just Jorge and I.....we still have fun, he laughs in Spanish and I laugh in English....actually his English is pretty good. I must say I have had a lot of fun and have many fine Mexican memories that I will just never forget being on this touring puppet show circuit. I should be thinking of how blessed I have been to be able to be a part of this for this long instead of being so sad to leave soon.

Ciaos in my classroom

Ciaos in my classroom today
I had complete ciaos in my classroom today, I thought the principle would come and escort me off the property and not ever let me come back. It was bad! Here’s the story; According to my curriculum that I was given I was supposed to teach the kids to count from 1 to 100 last week in one class, which is one hour. I don’t know where I went wrong but that did not happen. At the end of the hour about 90% of the kids could count from 1 to 10 and about 50 % could count to 20, as a teacher I had failed them somewhere so today I decided that instead of just moving on to the next subject that we would continue counting and hopefully get to 100. I had brought flashcards and decided we would play a game. I dealt every kid 5 cards and if they had the number that I called out they would give it me and the one who got rid of all his/her cards first would be the winner....sounds easy right? Well, as soon as they saw me take the cards out of my bag they went nuts, they were so excited. Chiqueta’s little brother was screaming he was so excited (she can explain) as I am dealing the cards out ciaos started, they could not contain themselves.....it was hilarious. At first they didn’t quit understand that the point was to get rid of all their cards but they thought the point was to jump out of their desks and race to me as fast as they could to be the first to give me the card (there was duplicates in the deck) well.....chairs went flying, one desk got tipped over and kids were falling all over each other, and they were screaming and yelling in excitement. It was unbelievable! Once the game was over and I had lead Jose #3 in his victory dance they wanted to play again, I knew if we were that noisy again we would get a visit from the principle so I made some rules (why didn’t I think of that first?) No screaming allowed, no getting out of your desk, I collect the cards. This time things went much smoother although a few kids just couldn’t stay in their desks, but there was no yelling. Oh what fun I am having! Can they count from 1-100 now? No. I talked to my director and asked if I should keep moving along or stay on this subject until they have mastered it, she says to move on but take 15 minutes or so out of each class to review the numbers until I am confident that they know them. When my class is over they have a 15 minute recess but if we are in the middle of something and the bell rings they don’t race out of the class, they stay to finish. Especially if I’ve handed out worksheets, they love work sheets and will always stay and finish them. So I think I will utilize this time for reviewing the numbers. I’ve been asked if I am coming back next year, I can choose a different grade or move up and stay with this class. The director asked me if I would be willing to teach all 6 classes on the Island, it has always been too hard to find volunteers to come here so they have never had English classes offered here. Am I coming back next year? I am being asked this over and over and I have no answer. A lot to think about, and to pray about.

Sunday, March 2, 2008

It Finally Happened

Let me tell you about the doors in my house, they are the typical Mexican doors that you will find in most of the homes here. They have no door knobs on the outside, just a keyhole. On the inside there is just a latch. So, as soon as you close the door it is always locked. I have two of these doors, one is my front door on top of the stairs and the other is the door that leads to the roof which is my fine dining room. When I first moved in I quickly made note of the fact that if I was on the roof and the wind slammed the door shut I would be locked out of my house and be stuck up on the roof. So I put a plan in place, whenever I would go into my dining room (on the roof) I would open the window in the door (the doors have a shutter window in them) so that if the door would slam shut I could reach my hand through the window and pull the latch, Such a clever plan. Today I forgot a step in the plan, because I only stepped into the dining room for 3 seconds to get something I didn’t open the window first. I tell it was a horrifying sound when that door slammed shut behind me. I was stranded on my roof...yep. I did have some options to consider though so I was not totally without hope, 3 of them to be exact. I was pretty sure I had left my front open when I came in, so all I needed to do was get off the roof and come back in through my front door. 2 ways to do that, one....jump off the roof, it isn’t very high but I was afraid of breaking an angle since I do have very weak angles. Option two would be to shimmy along side the edge of the roof, possibly 10 – 12 inches wide and I would loose about 3 inches where the windows are although by the windows I would have the bars to hang onto, the rest of the way I would just be hugging the wall. This is how the cats get up on roof, and get into my garbage; I call it the cat walk. Or there is option three, get the attention of someone walking by and ask them to walk up the stairs and walk in my front door (which I am still assuming is open) and open the door from the inside, this would of course all have to be done in Spanish which I was pretty confident I could do. I knew Senor Papa would not be by as he had already been here this morning, sometimes he comes more than once or at least he drives by sometimes but that would of course not happen today. So I weight my options and right away cross off jumping off the roof and decide that the whole Island doesn’t need to know how foolish I am (so I post this on the internet for the whole world to read instead) so I opt to shimmy along the catwalk which really wasn’t as scary as I had thought, it was rather easy, and sure enough the front door was open...what a relieve. Lesson learned is to always stick to the plan and put a backup plan in place, which is to get a rock to put in front of the door from now on. Just never a boring day here on the Island.

How Popular Am I

I’m not sure if I mentioned this before or not but Mary is a very popular name in Mexico, almost every house has at least one. Yesterday I met a lady whose name is Mary Lena, (this is also my name) but she goes by Lena because she has 2 sisters who are Mary Guadalupe, and Mary Rosa. Yep her mother named all her daughters Mary. Speaking of Mary, a lady from the Spanish church named Mary invited Lydia and I to her house last week for supper. I had an awesome time, and the food was awesome...oh it was so awesome. There are a wonderful, beautiful family of 3 girls, age 21, 17, 6 and one adorable little guy age 10. They are a family of 6 living in a little 2 bedroom house. Their kitchen is as big as my bathroom at home, take my bathtub out and put a fridge and stove there....now that I am picturing it my bathroom might even be bigger. The living room was a bookcase up against the wall and 2 chairs, the kitchen table as a small square table with 4 chairs. They seemed quite happy and did not have a problem inviting 2 guests over for supper. I think that families at home don’t even get to know each other because they don’t have to spend time together in the same room anymore. They sleep, eat and watch TV in separate rooms. I think we all have too much space and I am including me in this as well. I don’t even have to share a bathroom with my daughter and have certainly never had to share a bedroom with her. In two weeks my mother and daughter are both coming to visit me and we will all be sharing a bedroom and one bathroom....should be interesting. Mary knows they are coming and told me that she wants to have all of us over for supper when they come. The people here don’t mind being crowded; they have no problem with that at all. They are not used to ever having their own space. Before I lived in this little loft there was a family of 4 living in here. I can’t imagine having two little kids running around in here.

The Lord Taketh and He Giveth

A few weeks ago we had a lady dropped off at Casa Damasco by the police, there were a few different stories as to what happened to her but the end result was a broken back, an arm in a cast, a dislocated shoulder and a few stitches in the other arm. The first day that we met her she took a few teaspoons of water but no food, just swallowing the water seemed to be painful to her. We redressed her stitches and tried to get her to take more water but she would not. The second time we were there her condition had not changed a lot although they told us that she had eaten some baby food during the week. Last week she was awake and alert the whole time we were there and she ate about 2/3 of a jar of baby food, our hopes were high that she would recover. The very next day she passed away. I was surprised as she had looked so much better and had been so responsive to us. I really thought she was on the road to recovering, but I guess we really didn’t know what she was recovering from and what kind of life she had had. The pastor assured us that God had brought her back to us briefly so that she could prepare herself for going home, home where she will be forever safe in God’s loving arms. This is the second death like this that we have had there since I’ve been here. The sad news of her passing came the same day that we heard that money had been raised in the English Church to purchase a permanent home for Casa Damasco, a home that is much more suited for a long term care facility (which is what Casa Damasco really is) There is a 12 room house in Francisco Madero right beside the Red Dragon (prostitution house) The owner is serving a 25 year sentence in prison, for what I do not know but I could give a pretty good guess. In Mexico a 25 year sentence is actually 25 years, none of this early parole, getting out on good behaviour or any of those other get out of jail early cards that you can draw in Canada. Now we just need to pray that all parties involved will have the patients and knowledge needed to endure the long paper trail of purchasing property here; I’m hearing it’s a very complicated process and the seller being in prison could make it worst. Here is a link for Casa Damasco www.casadamasco.com

Update on a few things

The worms.....a few weeks ago I wrote about waking up one morning and finding a lot of worms in my house. They have never come back, I have not seen one single worm since then and I still do not know where they came from.

My plants......my plants that a neighbour gave me are now 3 weeks old and are all doing just fine. The plants that I planted from seeds that I had bought are not growing at all and 3 of the 4 plants that I bought in Mazatlan at a green house died.

Tranchilla in the water tank.......Who knows? What’s in the water tank is none of my business any more.

Alote.......is very good with chilli powder on it; corn will never be the same again when I go home.
Water Issues.......We are still on a 5 days with water and 8 days without water schedule but I have learned that during the 8 days without water I can still fill my tank at night and that way I don’t run out of running water. The problem with the hot water is that sometimes the pilot light on the hot water heater gets blown out by the wind (its outside) and then I have to wait until my land lady comes as she is the only one that has a key to get at the hot water heater. Right now I’ve had hot water for about 2 weeks straight....that’s a record.

Knitting...... I brought a whole suitcase of wool with me thinking I would just be knitting up a storm for lack of other things to do. I am almost finished my first project, a shawl. I seem to have found a lot of other things to do. I met a lady on the Island here that is in a wheel chair and I was surprised to see that she was knitting; it doesn’t seem to be very common here. When I leave I plan on giving her all my wool instead of dragging it back with me. I had 50 lbs of wool with me.....what was I thinking? Maybe it was brought especially for this lady in the wheel chair, yes, that’s right that was my plan. Oh wait, I already confessed that I came here without a plan. I ‘m so glad God’s in charge and not me.

Caldo.....is a sauce that goes on almost everything, tacos, enchiladas, tostadas, chilaquiles, and some other things that I can’t spell. I’ve been trying to learn how to make this sauce and keep getting a different recipe from every person I ask. Today was my 3rd attempt and it was very good, finally. I think I’ve got it. Although I think this is like making bread, even though you use the same recipe each time sometimes it’s great and sometimes it‘s just not. I was hanging out at meat market this morning and a gentleman that owns a restaurant on the beach stopped by (just to hang out) and he gave me his recipe and I raced home immediately before I could forget anything and it was a success. By the way, the Spanish words for garlic and eyes are different by one letter only....an easy mix up.

The José saga......I now have 3 José’s in my class, we spend about 10 minutes at the beginning of each class deciding who will be who. They are a rather funny bunch.

The Scallop guy, the Meat guy and dinner guests

I am having my first dinner guests over today. A wonderful couple from British Columbia whom I met at church are coming for dinner tonight. I when to the meat market yesterday and bought hamburger to make meat balls and ended up hanging out there for about an hour. Two of the guys there want to learn English and I need help with my Spanish so a chair was pulled up for me and we just started conversing, once in awhile getting interrupted by customers. One lady bought a whole pigs head and I had to ask “what do you do with that?” Turns out it has many uses but mostly used to make tacos, which would explain all the “head taco” signs I see everywhere. I ask the guys where I can buy scallops and they tried their best to give me directions to a guy that sells them out of his house (of course) but I could just not understand the directions. It was decided that I could just buy the scallops from the shrimp market downtown Mazatlan; I wanted to get some shrimp as well anyway. Before I headed off one of the meat guys wanted me to see his piece of land where he is starting to build a house, he was too busy with customers so he gets his cousin to take me up the hill on his guad (which is the meat delivery vehicle) We go way up the hill, he will have the tallest house on Stone Island. He figures he will be safe up there even if a tsunami comes. The view took my breath away, he had told me about the great view but I thought he had been exaggerating, wow, it was amazing. I could see the north side of Mazatlan and all the way along the Stone Island beach and all 1700 hectares of coconut plantations. He has a lot of work to do, so far they are just digging his foundation which is done by men with a spades. I hope I get to see the process of this house going up, I’m currently watching one being built across the street from me.....most interesting. Anyway, I head off to the docks to go to the shrimp market and run into Senor Papa, he asks me where I am going, I tell him I am off to buy scallops and shrimp. He says no need to go all the way to the market he knows a guy that sells scallops right here, tells me to get into his truck and off we go. We arrive at a house that is right around the corner from my house and a girl comes and gets into the back of the truck and we go a little further and she runs into a house and comes out with 2 bags of fresh scallops....money and scallops are exchanged and I get driven back home. Quite happy that I now have a scallop guy living right up the road a bit. I am really enjoying buying my groceries from individual people instead if shopping at a big store where you never actually have to speak to anyone if you don’t want to. This is so much more personal. I have a guy that I buy my fruit and vegetables from, he comes to my door everyday, I have the guy that I buy tamales from almost everyday, he also comes to my door. (He also has cheese and cactus) I have the lady that I buy my peanuts from, and of course the meat guy. There is a guy that walks door to door selling pastries and bread whom I have not bought anything from yet....I should get to know him as well. I found a lady that makes bread in a stone oven everyday....No, I don’t buy bread everyday. Of course we cannot forget the lady that sells me my tortillas and the alote lady. What will I do without tortillas and alote when I get home? I’ve learned how to eat tortillas with almost everything.
My trip to the shrimp market was uneventful; I came home with ½ kilo of great big shrimp and set to work getting ready for my guests. Meatballs had been put into the crock pot this morning and were ready. Usually bacon wrapped scallops would be done in an oven but since I don’t have an oven I fried them and they turned out great. I fried my shrimp in garlic butter.....so good! We had a great time just sitting on my roof and eating and chatting and eating some more. I am so blessed. I have some more friends coming for dinner next week and I think we will do the scallops and shrimp again...maybe chicken instead of meatballs. Or should I attempt to make head tacos?

A Visitor from Home

How exciting, I have a friend coming to visit from home. She`s coming for 1 week which will be very short but we`ll make due. I`ve made arrangement to borrow a blow up bed and sheets. I`ve checked my water schedule and we`ll have hot water for most of her visit. I`ve gotten used to not having hot water for days at a time but for someone visiting that might be important. I`m interested to see how she perceives this place because most of my acquaintances on the mainland still think I`m crazy for living here. One lady who says she`s been to the Island asked if I was the only one living here, she was not aware that people actually lived here.....hello, did she not see the houses and the people...we`re not hidden up in the tree tops. How could she not have heard the honking of the gas guy and the water guy, they cruise around all day long.
I ran into Luis at the fish market today on the other side by the docks, I wasn`t shopping, I have not been that brave yet. (Maybe I`ll take my visitor with me) Of course I didn`t have his seeds on me, I told him my plants were fine although a few of them still look quite sad. He was holding a fish that was about 3 feet long and I didn`t understand whether he had just bought him or caught him, he was still totally intact. I need to learn some fish related words in Spanish. I asked my meat guy what kind of fish I should buy and he wrote down the name of a fish that he thought was a good frying fish (pargo) I just haven`t made time to go get it and when ever I happen by the market I am not ready to have fish or am on my way somewhere and don`t want to carry fish with me all day. It`s just not something you want to have in your backpack all day. Speaking of backpacks, I had a little scare last week. There was a gentleman at church on Sunday that had been stabbed (not fatality) in a neighbourhood not too far from the street that I always walk on my way to downtown. Two thugs wanted his backpack and he had fought for it, and lost. He was lucky; the knife went in just above his heart just barely missing a main artery. I always thought that if I was a man walking alone I would feel completely safe and I didn`t think that thugs would knife you for a backpack unless they knew for sure there was something of value in it. So this bothered me for a bit because I do carry my laptop in my backpack to the Golden Zone to post my stories onto the net because I don`t have internet in my house anymore. I was bothered until I heard that he had been walking and taking pictures with his camera in full view of anyone and everyone and then put his camera back into his backpack. Plus it was the week of Carnival and thugs from all over the world came to Mazatlan to pillage from the 1 million tourists that have come for the event. However, not to push my luck I will be taking a bus instead of walking when I have my backpack on from now on. I believe God has taken care of me and he will continue to do so but I feel I have been given a warning and I would be foolish not to heed to it.
Sewing in Fransico Madero
I`ve been recuited once again for something new. I am assisting in teaching some ladies in Fransico Madero how to sew with sewing machines. About 4 old and I mean old, sewing machines have been donated and a wonderful lady from Saskatwan (who happens to speak German) came with a few boxes of fabric, patterns and notions. What a gift that was for these ladies here. Our first project is to make a pair of capris, the first day they all picked out fabric and we started cutting out the pieces. While the fabric lady speaks German she does not speak a word of Spanish but would you believe it we made out just fine, these women were so patient and easy going. We had so much fun; it is like sewing and playing charades at the same time. At one point a lady was asking me why one piece of her pants was cut bigger than the other, I tried to explain that the back is always bigger as we have to leave room for the butt, I didn`t have a Spanish word for butt, or for the behind so I was trying to figure out other words that could be used for butt as I am pointing to my butt she suddenly got it and said ``ah da boom boom`` I said ``si, da boom boom``. This is how it continued on all evening. Once again I feel so blessed to be here.

The start of a roof top garden

I`m on my way to the beach again and I run into a friend and as we`re walking and chatting I mention that I would like to buy some plants for my roof and would he know of anybody that would sell me some. Yup, he does, about 6 or 7 house up from where I live is Luis, who is a bit of a gardener, a bit of a fisherman and a bit of a taxi driver and who know what else. Amazingly enough on the side of a hill, amongst the rocks and sand is the most beautiful little garden. Luis started yanking plants out of the ground, yes yanking and put them in a box and assured me that all I needed to do was stick them in the ground, even though most of them had just been ripped up without roots. I tried to pay the man but he would not take any money so I decided that I would stop by with a gift of some sort within the next week. I get home and realize that once again I never made it to the beach ...oh well, and I also have no dirt to put in my pots. So I grab my water bucket and start wandering around the Island looking for dirt, turns out there isn`t any, this whole Island is made of sand. I head over to another friends house and ask her where I can buy dirt, she shows me her plants that are all in pots of sand and are doing just fine. She tells me I don`t need special dirt, as I head home with my empty bucket I realize that now I am walking around with a 5 gallon bucket just like the locals that I had been wondering about. Soon I`ll get me a wheel barrow too. Being the North American that I am, I head into Mazatlan the next day because I am convinced that my plants will grow much better with some good potting soil. I pick up a big sack of dirt and find some Delphinium seeds that I think would make a great gift for Luis and for me too. I like Delphiniums because they grow very fast and I don`t have much time left. (I should have done this a month ago) I`m excited to give Luis his seeds but he is not home, I`ll try again later. By the afternoon I have an assortment of sad looking plants on my roof, celery, cilantro, a Boston fern, some petunias, some mint, some pink impatients, some dill and some others that I don`t have names for. I also started some delphiniums from seed. I`m hoping that once they sprout roots and discover their fine soil (I did mix it with sand) they will grow nicely. I `m excited about my little garden.

Walking the beach, I never finished this story because I got side tracked

I’ve started to walk on the beach, or at least try to walk on the beach. It is very easy to get side tracked when you are on a mission with a plan. Today I decided no one was going to send me veering off my path, so when I approached the beach I snuck along the edge for a while so that my friend that works at one of the restaurants didn’t see me because that usually results in me sitting down and having a fruit drink and perhaps him introducing me to some more of his friends which is all great but I end up there until sundown. As I’m walking on the beach that is so long that you cannot see the end I am always am reminded of how incredibly blessed I am to be able to be here. I am literally living in my dreams. Walking along the ocean is also a reminder to me of how big God is. It is amazing to me to hear the thundering roll of the waves coming in and suddenly they roll over as if unfolding and slowly curl in to shore and gently lap up against my feet. They sound so powerful and scary at first but as they get closer they become so gentle. Kind of like God, until you get close and built a relationship with Him he can also appear scary and perhaps intimidating. Once you get close to him you will find his ever loving arms always open to you, and you will feel his gentle love always. I walk for an hour and the only people I encounter are two local surfers riding the waves and one lone gentleman walking his dog and the guy that rents out his horses was herding them home, 6 of them altogether. Out on the ocean I see a big tanker anchored, possibly waiting for his turn to dock....apparently there’re only so many ships allowed in at a time. I also see a little fishing boat, this is my favourite, with one lone fisherman casting out and hauling in a net. I love watching these boats; they seem so peaceful out there on the big ocean. I admire these fishermen; it seems like such a noble profession. As I come off the beach and head home I am just in awe over how different and simple life is here. I see hammocks hanging from trees and roof over hangs and they actually have people in them, on almost every front step there is someone either just sitting or someone bashing coconuts or a fisherman mending his nets (a common sight) someone scrubbing clothes or kids running around. People use their homes for sleeping and storing their stuff not for living in, for the most part life happens outside. If you live like this you really don’t need a very big house at all. As I continue on home I pass a baseball game, not a little league game, just some kids on an open lot with bases marked with pieces of trash and rocks, except for home plate, it’s so worn from sliding in it doesn’t need a marker. There are no uniforms, no adults standing around with clip boards and whistles, no bleachers and no hotdog stand....although there is a chicken stand just up the street. Judging from the boyish banter and hooting and hollerin it looks like fun is being had by all. As I get to the chicken stand I find a volleyball game going on right beside it with grown men and perhaps a few teenagers also hooting and hollerin and having a blast, parked on the side of the street are a row of motos and bicycles and one lone, very bored looking horse tethered to a pole. As I walk on I pass people coming home from work, (it must be about 4:00 ) fisherman carrying buckets, people pushing wheel barrows, men on bikes with spades and shovels and ladies carrying backpacks...possibly beach vendors. Young men with their black cases that they sell jewellery and watches and you name it out of on the beach. I see the hotdog stand in front of the Big City Deli being set up and across the road the taco stand that I had very good papa locos at a few nights ago is also in full swing with a small crowd gathering in front of it. I pass a stand that is just closing that I had not seem before (I do miss some things) I ask her what her hours are and was told they are only open during the day, she tells me they do still have tamales left over if I want, I decline as I already have a tamale guy....he comes by my house every morning and I don’t want to cheat on him. (it`s a small place, he will find out). I keep on my way home and pass the peanut stand, I search my pockets, I have no change....too bad, I love fresh roasted peanuts and they roast them right there. It took me a while to figure out what the funny looking contraption was, it`s a peanut roaster. I continue limping on....I`m wearing my thongs again.
Then I pass the cutest little Hansel and Gretel house, it is so tiny but so perfect and I can totally see me retiring in a little house like that (I`ll take a picture some day for you) this house looks very out of place as it is completely finished and very neatly painted and obviously loved and adored by it`s owners. The little front porch is just dreamy. I must get myself invited into this house sometime. The lady that sells fresh coconut cookies greets me and I stop to say the usual Buenas tardes, I don`t buy a coconut cookie because I have no change and although I really really love coconut I find them a bit too sweet for me, I wonder if I can ask her to make some for me with less sugar. Maybe I`ll just make my own, there`s an idea. I pass by the little confectionary store that I can sometimes buy a great big Marlin sandwich for 7 pesos at. On the front porch there are the usual 5 or 6 men playing Dominoes, they always seem to be here at about this time.
I get home just as the sky is turning pink, it`s sundown, I debate if I want to walk just a little further so that I can see the sun set over the ocean but I decide that since I don`t have my camera I better not, I would be so disappointed if it turned out to be a magnificent sunset and me with out my camera so I just head on upstairs to my little loft. This little place is really starting to feel like home when I walk through the door. I really didn`t think I would feel so at home here, I knew I would feel at home here in Mexico but I didn`t think that this house would ever feel as homey as my house at home does. I always though that my house at home was special in a way that it made me feel very comfortable and safe and I always loved going home to it, even if I was only coming home from work. I somehow thought that if I moved I would never have that comfortable feeling again but I guess I was wrong. I already love coming home to this house and I`ve only been here 2 months. My things aren’t even in here, all my wonderful things that I`ve collected over the years that I felt I had to have in order to make my house a home, they`re not here and yet I feel perfectly at home... Interesting.

Sickness, Worms and Tranchilas (however you spell that)

Sickness, Worms and tranchilas
Today was not a great day for me, I was sick. It started last night when I came home from another Sunday of church all day; I got home at about 8:30 pm as usual and was really hungry as I had not had supper. I had sustained myself with a few muffins here and there and a bag of Cheetos during the afternoon but I needed some real food. So when I got off the panga I headed for a food stand and got 2 tostadas with grilled beef, I was debating getting 3 but decided that because I was going to go to bed right afterwards I didn’t want to eat that much. As it turned out they were huge and 2 was plenty and I was feeling quite full, not overly full but just really full....I went right to bed. I couldn’t fall asleep as I was feeling very bloated and my stomach felt really hard, now I would like t o say that I have a nice hard stomach all the time but that is just not the case. I felt very uncomfortable and tossed about most of the night. In the morning I was still not feeling well, I was not nauseous just feeling very bloated. I was in the bathroom when I noticed a bunch of little white worms on the floor, very odd and a bit alarming. I got a broom and swept them up and then noticed there were more worms in every corner, including my bedroom.....what is going on? Where are they coming from? Because of all the sand I sweep my floors 2 or 3 times a day and I always wash my floor everyday sometimes twice a day and I have never noticed worms before anywhere. So I frantically sweep everywhere and wash my floors with bleach all the while not feeling great at all.....still just feeling like I should poke myself with a needle and let some air out. I kept trying to throw up but that wasn’t working for me. I felt I needed to empty myself somehow but it just wasn’t happening. I also washed my rooftop with bleach and the stairs coming up just in case the worms came from there; I checked all my garbages but could just not figure out where the worms came from. Once I had them all cleaned up they didn’t come back and I did keep my eye out for them. Around lunch time I was finally able to throw up and felt a little better, I even managed to do all my laundry but later in the afternoon I felt all tight and bloated again. I was supposed to go to Madero at 4:00 to help with the sewing projects but the thought of taking a boat and bus ride almost made me sicker so I decided that I would just stay home, I am after all just a volunteer. I spent most of the afternoon in bed, and never left the house at all. Before I went to bed I turned on the water valve as I believe I was told to do and lifted the lid to my water tank to see how much water was in it and a big black tranchala scurried off the edge...yikkes! I slammed the lid shut and pulled myself together and decided I had imagined him and lifted the lid again just to send him scurrying to the other side...He was as big as my hand, including fingers and black and furry. I decided then and there that it would no longer be any of my business how much water was in the tank. I will run out when I run out. I’m a little nervous that the tank is right beside my door. I’m telling myself that the water tank has been his home for many years and that he is quite comfortable there and has no desire to relocate, as long as the snoopy gringa will stop peeking at him and leave him alone. I wonder what he eats in there. I guess I’m also drinking tranchilla poop.....could explain the stomach troubles....nah, couldn’t be.
I went to bed hoping I would feel better in the morning and hopefully no worms. My stomach and the worms are both a mystery, I just hope they are not related in some way.

Water Issues

We have water issues again and according to my Spanish and my very patient land ladies’ explanation to me a shark, a very large fish or a swimmer hit the water line (this just can’t be right) and they are trying to fix it. While they are fixing it we will be without water for 8 days and then we will have water for 5 days, this will continue until they have fixed it. During the 5 days with water I am to turn the valve (the one that is still leaking) on during the night so that my cistern can fill as there is no pressure during the day, in the morning I turn the valve off. So I now have a water schedule on my calendar. Lydia stopped by today and I would really have wanted her to confirm this with my land lady but she was not home and of course as soon as she had left Senor Papa showed up, he reiterated the valve on at night and off during day but seem confused when I asked him about the 5 days on and 8 days off.....I’ll find out I guess.

Walking the Beach

Today after I got home from the mainland (I had phone duty) I decided to walk the beach, I need to walk of some creama....oh, a little side story first. This morning I go to the little store just up the street from my house and buy creama for my coffee and the lady tells me “you do know this isn’t milk right”, (in Spanish of course) She must think that because I buy a carton every 4 days I must just be drinking it straight. I tell her I put it in my coffee, she says “yes that would be better; it’s too thick to drink straight.”They must be having quite the conversations on their decks about this weird gringa, everything from how I do my dishes to how much creama I buy and possibly about how many papayas I buy and that I eat meat without grilling it.....oh and I’m sure they’re talking about how I am limping around in my new thongs that I bought. I am trying to break in a pair of thongs and it’s just not a pretty sight, I have not worn thongs since I was a kid.....ok, let’s clarify something first, I am from a time when thongs were worn on your feet, ok. I tell you in feels like I have a log between my toes and if I ever get used to that I will be amazed. I really do feel like I am always being watched but not in a spooky sort of way, more like in the same way that I am watching them out of my windows....in a curious way. Did I tell the story about when I first got the keys to my house? I don’t think I did. It was a Monday or a Tuesday when I first came to talk to my land lady about renting this place. I asked her how safe it was (like she was going to tell me it wasn’t safe) she told me not to worry but perhaps not to tell anyone I was living here alone, I was wondering how I was going to do that, make up a room mate perhaps. So we agreed that I would come back on Thursday at 11:00 am to pick up the key. I arrive early because I wasn’t sure how long the bus would take to get to the docks so I gave myself lots of time (I’m not Mexican enough yet to show up late) as I approach the house a lady sees me and comes up to me and asks if I am the Canadian lady that is going to rent Bertha’s house, I say yes. She tells me that Bertha had to go to Mazatlan but will be back at 11 to give me the key. As I wander around the neighbourhood just to waste some time an older gentleman approaches me asks me if I am the Canadian lady that is going to rent Bertha’s house, I say yes and he tells me as well that she is coming at 11 to give me the key.....it seems she told the whole village about the new Canadian resident.
Today my neighbour lady invited me over to her house for coffee, (the one that thinks I’m weird) I think...that or I invited myself over, one or the other. I understood coffee, my house and the words any day....I will certainly be taking her up on that, perhaps tomorrow. Such interesting things go on over there and I feel guilty spying on them through my windows, I would like to have a relationship with them so that when I see something interesting going on I can just jump over the fence and say “hey...what’s happening?” instead of running from window to window to see what they’re doing.

Will the real Jose please come forward

Will the real José Please Come Forward
Did I tell you that I have the most beautiful children in my classroom? I do, they must have gathered all the beautiful kids and put them all in my class. There are 19 of the little darlings but never the same 19 it seems; they like to change their names on me. Today I thought I was very clever and made them all name tags to hang around their necks and this seemed to work fine until the end of class José handed in his assignment with Antonio written on the top. I pointed to his name tags and asked what happened. He said he didn’t want to be José anymore he wanted to be Antonio again, like last week. Unbeknownst to me I had 2 José’s in my class but the 2 of them kept changing their names from José to Antonio making it so that I never noticed....clever little guys, and not so bright a teacher. I believe we have sorted it out today though. Mexican children normally have 4 names, a first name, a second name, then their mother’s maiden name and then their father’s name. My daughter’s names follow that sequence as well but we have never actually used all those names but these kids do use them all. I have asked them to choose one name and stick with it so that I have ½ a chance of remembering them....hence the name tags. Also hard to tell them all apart when they are all equally beautiful and sweet...noisy and very tricky, but sweet. Ever so sweet, I know I’m going to want to take them all home with me when I leave.
I did have an interesting bus ride out there today, and I was on the right bus this time. I had to make copies of my lessons for the kids today and the copy/internet place on the Island does not open until 1 pm (or at least it didn’t today) we Island people are quite the slackers. So when I got off the panga I walked downtown and got my copies made and caught the bus from there. At the very next stop 2 clowns got on the bus, yep, real clowns. Their make up was done so perfectly that they really looked like real clowns (like there are real clowns) they performed a little skit and were rather entertaining. After their little act they walked around and were collecting donations, I am not sure for what as I could understand nothing (I don’t speak clown) so I did not contribute. Shortly after they got off another gentleman got on with a guitar and preceded to serenade us all, he was rather good and he looked like he might have had a family to feed so I did contribute to his cause whatever that may be. It could very well have been his next hit of some drug or for tortillas, who knows, it is beyond my control and in Gods’ hands. I see so many hands out everyday that I cannot help; I don’t have enough pesos to go around. I can’t help but wonder what Jesus would have done when an empty hand would reach out to him as he passed by. It doesn’t tell us in Bible if he had a miracle for everyone that reached out, we don’t know how many miracles he actually performed....we know it’s many. Did he just look down and give a sympathetic smile and continue walking as I do, somehow I don’t think so.....but we know he didn’t have money to give. What did he do?

Just a lot of rambling

I have a new job; I have been recruited to help with giving sewing lessons to some local ladies at Franisco Madero, this is the same colonia that I am teaching in. We had talked about me doing this before I had even left home but then when I got here I got busy with everything else and I thought that project had been cancelled. Last week a lady from Winnipeg arrived with boxes of fabric and patterns so the sewing ministry got up and running again. We started yesterday and got as far a choosing fabric and a pattern, the ladies wanted to make capris. We managed to get most of them measured for size and got the fabric all cut and tomorrow we start to sew. On Wednesday I am always at Casa Damasco until about 3pm and I am to be in Madero at 4pm so I will have to find a bus that takes me from Casa Damasco to Madero in an hour. This will no doubt be another adventure, the first time I tried to get home from Madero it took 3 wrong buses, a long walk and one polmonia ride. The polmonia driver of course ripped me off; I can’t stand cab/polmonia drivers and will walk from here to Mexico City if needed before I will ever take another cab or polmonia. (I might end up eating these words)
Today when I came home from Mazatlan (I had phone duty today) I found out I have no running water again, I debated whether I should find Senor Papa again but decided just to wait and see if the whole Island is out or just me. I went to the neighbours but they weren’t home and right now I’m too lazy to go wandering out any further. Not having running water does not really affect that many people because not that many people are fortunate enough to have running water at all or hot water for that matter. The other day at Casa Damasco there was a new resident that was really ill; the police had dropped him off and he was so ill he could not walk or even sit up. We are not sure what is wrong but most likely just very malnourished and possibly starved. One of our new volunteers came to me and ask for a warm wet clean cloth, he wanted to wipe the man’s face with it in hopes that it would warm him up. I looked at him very dumb-founded; he may as well have asked me for a bucket of gold nuggets. I told him that the only cloth in the house was the one greasy dish rag, and even if I could clean it up for him, there is no hot water in the house at all. Heat up water on the stove you say.....there are only 2 pots and one is full of rice and the other frijoles (refried beans) every day. I am learning that hot water is truly a luxury that I need to be very grateful for. I meant to go buy dishrags and dishtowels to take with me but of course I needed to do that in the city (our big city deli doesn’t have any) but soon as I am done my duties in the city I always hightail it home as fast as I can and I totally forgot to pick some up.
By the way, today someone asked me if knew what bus they could take to get to WalMart..hahah, do I ever. I thought that was kinda funny. I miss having a land mark like that, this is why I am having such problems getting in and out of Madero, I don’t know yet which buses go there from the boat docks. There is a landmark but I am reluctant to use it, around the corner from the school that I teach at is the bus stop and about ½ a block up is the “Red Dragon” it is the biggest prostitution house in Mazatlan. So I could flag down a bus and ask in a question like tone “rojo dragon?” just like I used to do for “WalMart?”But I think the bus drivers would think it very peculiar that this gringa goes to the prostitution house 3 times a week. I did ask the ladies that I was teaching sewing yesterday which bus to take in and out and I do believe I have it figured out now..... I will get to test it out again tomorrow. I have noticed that if I am talking to an older person or a child they will not understand me even if I have the correct Spanish words if I mispronounce them even the tiniest bit, like perhaps missing one vowel. Unlike in English, in Spanish you always pronounce every vowel and I tend to skip a vowel sometimes (or 2) and a lot of bus drivers are older gentlemen and have had very little exposure to the English language and thus don’t understand me when I tell them where I want to go. Especially the bus drivers on the Madero route, tourists just don’t go there very often.
I figured out why I don’t have water, remember the water leak I wrote about earlier. Well, it seems Senor Papa fixed it by turning the main water valve off. So I turned it on long enough to fill my tank on the roof and then turned it off again. If he shut it off on Saturday when I left the message for him my tank lasted me 3 days, so I’m good for awhile. I’m not sure if this is the permanent solution or what he plans on doing.
With me running into the city everyday I’ve missed the fruit and vegetable truck for a few days now and my bin is empty. If I don’t catch him first thing in the morning I will not be able to have my daily fruit shake for breakfast......I just know he’ll drive by when I’m in the shower. I did go to the general store, which by the way is called “The Super City Deli” and they did not have any papayas, mangos, oranges or apples. They did have nice bananas but bananas alone does not a fruit shake make, at least not a very memorable one. I’ve had fruit shakes so good I remember it all day, at about 3:00 I’ll be thinking “man that was a good fruit shake this morning....wish I had one now”.
I found a place on the Island here that sells Papa Locos, yes! I have not tried them yet. I bought a chicken and a half a few days ago and made a whole crock pot of Frijoles so I have no reason to eat out for awhile. Most BBQ places will sell you a chicken and a half with a side of rice, about 8 tortillas and some salsa. (60 pesos here on the Island) It sounds like a lot of food but it really is not because these chickens are not raised on steroids like ours are, making them a lot smaller. I ordered a meal like this with a friend and between the 2 of us we ate it all except for one piece of chicken which we gave to a passerby. I do have to learn how to make the salsa that they serve with it, it is so good. I might have to hang out at the chicken BBQ place for a day or so. I tell you, food geniuses. I’ve also discovered that I love love corn, what they do with corn is just.....genius. When I set up my taco stand at home I will also serve corn....oh yeah I was also going to have Papa Locos (I might need help) I ran into a gentleman today that had not seen me in a week and he jokingly said that he thought I had gotten taller (he’s a very short guy) I replied that perhaps all the Mexican food was making me taller because I know for sure it’s making me wider. I am seriously going to start walking more; taking the wrong bus 3 times last week did me well. I might start walking on the beach; I think that walking on sand would be more exercise and we have miles and miles of beautiful beach here with no rocks unlike the beaches in the Golden Zone and you don’t have to walk around or step over tourists. (Just some stray dogs and the occasional horse)
Today I bought some boxes of crayons for my kids at school; I’m really excited to surprise them on Thursday. I can’t believe these kids don’t have crayons, a box of 64 crayons cost me 17 pesos and that is something that the parents and the public schools just cannot afford....oh dang, I just now remembered I wanted to buy a blackboard eraser too, they don’t have one of those either. We’ve been using a piece of tissue paper to wipe the board with. Oh and get this, no photo copier at the school. I’ve been going to internet cafes to get my worksheets and handouts copied for my class. Can you imagine operating a school without a photo copier? Or elementary kids that don’t have crayons, most of our kids have eaten a box, lost a box and broke a box of crayons before they even get to grade 1. I think I will buy these kids each a note book as well; I think we are wasting so much time taking turns writing on the board.....they do have to learn to write their alphabet too, not just recite it. So I have a shopping list for Friday when I go into the city.
For tea towels and dish cloths I might have to go to WalMart for this, this is not something I will find in a Mexican store I should maybe explain this a little. Mexicans do not wash their dishes with hot water (ever) usually because they have never had hot running water, and usually they don’t have running water at all. If they have running cold water they let the water run and wash the dishes under the tap with a sponge that they dip in a bowl of dish soap every once in a while. This is how they wash the dishes at Casa Damasco; imagine plastic greasy dishes that have never been washed in hot water, or even warm water. I must remember that I am not here to change the ways of the Mexican people in fact it is their relaxed ways, customs and traditions that have lured me back here time and time again.

Spanish is Coming along

I know I always complain about my Spanish not coming along as fast as I would like it too but it really isn’t that bad, I am just impatient and get very frustrated when there is something that I just can’t do. I can usually get my point across if needed. About a week ago, maybe a bit longer (I tend to lose track of the days) I locked my keys in my apartment (I know, just brilliant I am) my landlady had not been around for a few days and I had no idea how long she would be gone. Her father (Senor Papa) usually checks in on me about once a day, but I had not seen him that day and did not know where he lived. So I just started walking, this place is not that big and I knew I was bound to run into him or see his little truck somewhere or I might run into landlady’s brother or her niece. I found Senor Papa at the docks, turns out he works there, not sure what he does there or what all the other men do there that hang out there all day long. I was able to tell him what I had done and I didn’t even need too many words to explain after I made that sound to him......you know the sound you make the second the doors slams shut and you realize your keys are on the other side, and even though you know your keys are on the other side you immediately stick your hands in all your pockets looking for a miracle. You know you do that, we all do, anyway....that sound is universal and Senor Papa understood immediately what I had done and was able to help me out. Yesterday when I came back from Mazatlan I noticed that the water pipe in front of the house had a slow leak and I made a mental note to myself to let Senor Papa know the next day. By the way the saying “a mental note” is just that, a saying, it’s not an actual note at all, the note does not exist, so when Senor Papa came by in the morning to check the plants we had the same conversation we always have about the weather and then he went on his way. Later in the afternoon I saw the leak again and figured I better let him know because even though it is just a slow leak we are by now wasting a bit of water, so off to the docks I go but he is not there...hummmm. Beside the docks is a little restaurant that is run by a very friendly couple and I know that they know who I am renting from as the lady had introduced me to my landlady’s niece a few weeks ago.....everybody knows where I live by now. So I ask her if she knows where Senor Papa lives....of course she does, and I can even understand her directions. I find his house (turns out he lives close to me..hahah) but of course he is not home but I explain to his daughter (who lives with him) what the problem is. I’m getting a little smarter now, before I left the house I looked up some words, like pipe, beside, gate, leaking, and slowly, so that pretty well explains it, pipe beside gate leaking slowly. She promised to pass on the message when he returns from Mazatlan. Soon the man will think I am a pest, I hope I can leave him alone for a while now. On the way home I bought a cup of alote (corn with creama) it was only 12 pesos, it was 20 in Mazatlan...ripper offers I tell you. .....whoooo, the power just went out, it looks like the whole Island is dark (my laptop is running on its battery now) and is it ever dark. Good thing I had anticipated this and bought some candles when I first moved in.

Friday, January 18, 2008

Another Visit to the Meat Market

This morning I was trying to find the Spanish word for “Roast” but could not find it in any of my dictionaries. I wanted to cook a roast in my crock pot with a roasted chilli sauce and serve it on tostadas, normally they grill the meat for tostadas but I do not have a grill (and I’m not smart enough to make one) and I thought it would be good slow cooked as well. I head to the market anyway and this time I took my time and went through the whole nicety routine with the guys, they were all very nice. Then he asked what I needed, I tried to explain I wanted a small roast. He did not get what I wanted; he kept asking me what I wanted to do with it. He asked if I was grilling it, I said no and tried to explain I wanted to put it in a crock pot. Mexicans kitchens are not usually equipped with an oven; they grill all their meat and are certainly not familiar with a crock pot so he couldn’t understand why I would put it in a pot if I was making tostadas. I did however end up going home with a nice little roast and my tostadas were delicious. I already know that there is a lot of food that I am going to get used to having all the time here that I will miss having when I come home.
By the way, speaking of grilling, the other day I walked past a home that had a little taco stand set up in the street and they had built a little fire and then didn’t have a grill so they had put the top part of a fan on the fire (you know, the wire part that keeps kids from sticking their fingers in the blade) they were grilling their meat on that.....how clever is that not? These people are just never stuck.

The true Mexican taco

I am still debating whether I want to publish my amazing taco discovery on this blog, because I think that with the information that I now have I can come home and open up a taco stand and be a bizzillionaire by next winter and I’m not sure I want to give away that secret. I’ll think about it.
5 hours later........................ok, still thinking about it. I got interrupted, my new SkipBoo playing friends popped by to invite me over again for left over spaghetti and some card playing, had a blast but then got home and realized that I still didn’t hadn’t bought a blanket (was going to do that yesterday). So again I will be wearing my wool sweater as it gets down to 10C at night and then during the day it has only been between 15 and 18C, which sounds warm but there is always a breeze coming off the ocean and there is no heat to turn on (ever) Most restaurants and stores are all open and of the 6 windows in my house only 3 have glass in them, the others have shutters that close but are not sealed at all. (Very leaky) I have towels stuffed in the 2 inch cracks under both my doors at night. Not wining by any means just informing you of the current weather condition, just a little ironic that the winter that I come here it’s the coldest winter they have had in 10 years.

Many Opportunities

There is never a lack of things to do here; I seem to be busy everyday of the week. I have just recently been given another job. I have phone duty a few days a week now as well. The La Vina church has a vonage phone system at the main church in the Golden Zone and they open it up to the public to make free phone calls to the US and Canada, also free internet use. Of course someone has to monitor this and stand on the street in front of the church and hand out flyers that explain this service to the people walking by, which are mostly tourists. It’s an opportunity to get people into the church so they can walk around as they’re waiting for their turn to use the phones and see our bulletin board that shows all the outreaches that the church has throughout the city. We don’t push anything but we are there to answer questions if they have any. It is at this time that a lot of people sign up for the garbage dump tour. I’ve been doing this now for 2 weeks and one thing that I have learned is that some people are afraid of church; some people don’t even want to look at it as they walk by. Of course when we say that the phone service is free they don’t believe you, they think we are trying to lure them in and then sell them something. We are told not to push anything or tell them anything unless they ask, but yet they are so afraid that we will tie them up and make them listen to a preacher. Why are people afraid of church if they don’t believe there is a God? What are they afraid of; I think they are afraid that they are wrong. I think deep down inside they are thinking “what if it’s true, what if there really is a God”. Just because you don’t believe that God exists does not make that true. Anyway, phone duty has been fun, I have met all kinds of people from all over, and even people that know people in High Level...yeah....people know we exist up there, I was surprised too. A bonus for doing this job is that across the street from the church is one of those really posh coffee places that make a really good vanilla late, of course being that it is the golden zone it is pricy (30 pesos for a large) but I do treat myself as I only have instant coffee at home. I look forward to this coffee every time, it is so good.
Like I said I am getting to know a lot of people, on Thursday I was driving around with another women that teaches at the same school as I do, when she happened to mention how cute the little red car was that we just passed and I realized that I knew the couple in the little red car.....like a true Mexican I stuck my head out the window and hollered at them. (That’s what you do here)
I’m also excited that the Mexican lady that cleans the church has invited me to her house for supper, I just couldn’t get when out of her. She does not speak any English at all but I am sure she invited me for supper......I sure hope she did. I am hoping when I see her on Sunday there will be someone around that can translate enough just to confirm that I am indeed invited to her house before I just show up.

The Weekend on the Island

Friday afternoon I set off to the beach in search of a table and some chairs, and I wanted to buy a blanket from one of the beach vendors, I’ve been wearing my wool sweater at night. I had just stepped on to the beach and my new friend from Toronto (he’s the guy that forgot to go home 14 years ago) came up and introduced me to his father, his parents spend the winters here. I was invited right away for a spaghetti dinner and an evening of playing SkipBoo, I love playing SkipBoo. Since all 3 of us would not fit (we don’t know this for sure I was unwilling to try) on his moto-scooter thing I was chauffeured on the back of Pepe’s quad (Pepe rents out quads on the beach to tourists) There is not much action for him on the beach these days as it is still very cold here, has not been this cold in 10 years. Mother was embarrassed when I showed up as she wasn’t dressed for company, like I was dressed to be company. She said she had gotten all dressed up yesterday and no one came over. (Hate when that happens) We had a great evening of awesome spaghetti and about 6 rounds of SkipBoo and I went home with a borrowed table and 2 chairs. If I could have won one more round I could have had their microwave...next time. I have defiantly made some new friends again, it turns out they live very close to me, actually everyone on the Island lives close to me.
Island people are very interesting to me; if my Spanish was better I would be Miss nosy body on this Island. I want to know everything, most of all I want to know what people do with all that coconut milk. Everybody is tearing apart coconuts in their front yards and pouring the milk into containers but I have not seen coconut milk for sale anywhere or fresh coconut, what are they doing with it, where is it going? Also, they are pushing wheelbarrows down the street all the time and I want to stop them and say “hey, what you got there or where are you going with that?” Of course I can’t do that, remember.....the whole nicety routine would have to be followed again. Most people here make their living in some part of the fishing industry, you can tell who the fisherman are they wear tall rubber boots, have their pants tied up with fishing line and most homes have an overgrown dead boat with about 8 cats sleeping on it in their yard. Some of them even have that pirate look which can be a little intimating but I am finding out that they are really not that scary at all. One time when I was getting on the panga ( the little boats that take us across ) I was sure we were going to be hijacked when 2 pirate looking dudes got on, seriously, they made that little pirate guy that’s on Pirates of the Caribbean look like a wimpy boy.....no hijacking, they were just ordinary dudes. Speaking of being Miss nosy body, as I’m writing this I have to keep getting up to look out the window and see what’s happening across the street, they’ve brought out a PA system and are setting up chairs in the street....so I have to keep on top of that. There is just never a dull moment, this afternoon my neighbour’s son was sitting on the front step with his guitar, he was picking in a very Spanish sounding way......not the cowboy Spanish way but more like the Spanish from Spain, his voice was awesome as well, he kept me entertained for an hour or so. As noisy as this place is during the day with the music, the guitars, the quads, the motos and the honking sales people it is amazingly quiet at night. Everything seems to shut down at about 6 or 7 pm. Thursday night I came home at 9 pm from my taco excursion (that story is coming soon) and I stuck my head out my window and there was not a sound, I could hear the breeze rustling the leaves in the trees, aside from the roosters and the occasionally squawking of a cat you do not hear anything in the evening. By the way, the cats are wild and scary looking here, they all look crazy and are fighting and squealing everywhere but the dogs look beaten battered and tired and just seem to laze around and mind their own business.
I did my laundry this morning and as I was washing my blouse that I wore on Sunday I had to laugh a little. The kids at Villa Union love it when you pick them up and hug them; the little ones just cuddle right into your neck. I noticed on Sunday that they also take that opportunity to wipe their snooty noses on my shoulder. Oh well, I like their cuddly little hugs and they need a clean place to wipe their nose, we all get what we need. I didn’t let that bother me; it was just funny when I saw the crusty shoulder on my blouse this morning......it washed out.
I am trying really hard to conform to buying food for the day only, but that is so hard and today I failed miserably. This morning my land lady’s dear sweet father ( Senor Papa) gave me 2 big papayas because they were ready to be eaten and he was going to go away for a few days (I think is what he said) Then in the afternoon I go to the general store and buy 2 big bags of groceries (which only cost me 98 pesos) on my way home with my heavy bags nearly yanking my arms out of my sockets I pass Senor Papa and he sees my groceries and I am sure he is thinking “has she eaten those 2 papayas already and had to buy more food?”.

Miracles needed and wanted

Acts 3 tells the story of Peter and John healing a lame man in the name of Jesus. Peter and John were not Jesus, they were ordinary men, no different from anyone else. Peter acknowledges in verse 16 that it is in Jesus’ name that the man was healed, not through the power of Peter and John. It was through the name of Jesus that Peter had the authority to say in verse 6 “in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk”. Did Peter just assume he had the authority to say that or did he receive a message from Jesus telling him to say that? Last week at Casa Damasco we prayed over a man that is in great pain. He had a leg injury of some kind (I don’t know the whole story) the doctors put a metal rod inside his leg and now he has a very bad infection, his leg is all swollen and the flesh did not heal around the rod and now seems to be shrinking, the rod is almost completely exposed now. It is a horrendous sight and I feel pain just looking at it. We laid hands on him and the Pastor prayed (as we always do) and when he finished another gentleman said “but we didn’t pray for a miracle of healing, that is what the man needs” so we prayed again, for miraculous healing to take place, when we finished we all shook the mans hand, gave him a hug and wished him well and went on our way. When we finished praying I noticed that no one asked the man to pull up his pant leg so we could see if he had been healed.....why? Why did I not ask? Could the answer to that possibly be the same reason why a healing did not take place? I didn’t ask him to pull up his pant leg because I didn’t think he would be healed, why did I bother praying then? Why did I just know that I didn’t have the authority to say “in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk”. I prayed in the name of Jesus Christ, I believe that Jesus can still heal; I believe that Jesus does give the power of healing to us ordinary people. Is it my faith that is stopping the miracles from happening? Yesterday we had another instance when we felt we were on the brink of a miracle but nothing happened. There is a lady that lives on the Island that I am on that has MS, she is in a wheelchair and cannot use her hands anymore at all, her fingers are so clawed that she can’t even turn the pages of her bible, she’s a very devout Christian. Her husband and her two young sons (17 & 19) have to take care of her completely; I can’t imagine how humbling that must be for her and my heart just goes out to her. Since she can’t come to our Bible study we go to her house to do a bible study with her once a week. This week the La Vina had a missions team from the US come so about 4 of the team members were with us as well, just before we left we prayed over her (as we usually do) we were saying our good-byes and one of team members was just over come with the Holy Spirit and she felt that there would be healing taking place so we laid hands on her again and prayed, the lady was crying out, most of us were crying in anticipation of a miracle and nothing happened. Two of the people had visions of her getting up and walking, she said she felt her feet get extremely hot and felt that she should be floating.....but nothing. As I was wiping her tears my heart was just breaking for her, I felt like we had gotten her hopes up and then failed her. Why did God hold back? This is the kind of miracle that this Island needs to bring glory to God; I think an amazing miracle that this would do amazing things for Gods’ Kingdom. The devil has ruled here for so long why is God not taking this opportunity to take back some territory? Or is it not God that is holding back, is it us and our weak faith that is holding God back? I feel like I’m way over my head here.

Guirky Livin

When you live on a quirky Island you have to be prepared to live with some quirky things, one of which is our water supply. For the last 3 days the whole Island was out of water, our water is piped in from the mainland and apparently a boat hit and busted our water line Friday night. From what I hear this happens once in awhile, it’s just part of life here. After 3 days of having a sponge bath in the morning it sure does make you appreciate a hot shower. I’m learning to appreciate a lot of things and I am already wondering how I am going to be able to merge back into my old life without alienating and annoying everyone around me. I don’t think it will be a smooth merge. For instance, can you believe I am really enjoying hand washing my laundry? There is something so therapeutic about hand scrubbing my clothes under the big bugambilla tree in the heat of the morning with sounds of birds, chickens and roosters around me. I do laundry about every other day so that it does not pile up too much. I did sheets the other day which was a bit of a challenge but I managed. It’s wringing them out that is the hard part, I feel bad for women that have to wash jeans, they would be the toughest to wringe out, I didn’t bring any jeans. If I was staying here longer I would buy and old wringer washing machine, I see them everywhere in used furniture stores, but I’m not here long enough. It is very satisfying to have the laundry back in the house, dried, de-linted and ironed; I get a great sense of accomplishment out of it. I think I will miss that when I come home.
I’m getting used to the roosters crowing at all hours of the night; they don’t wake me up as much anymore. I might have to get some roosters when I get home.....oh right, we have bylaws and stuff. The other night at about 10 pm I had just put away my knitting and I had almost fallen asleep when a car drove by, I was so startled I literally jumped, thinking “what’s that?” and then realizing that it’s just a car, I rarely hear a car drive by my house after 7 pm.
When I first arrived I found a little store that sold Pepsi and I can’t remember where it was, it may not even exist any more. So I have replaced my Pepsi addiction to Toni-Col, which is a vanilla flavoured soda pop that is made right here in Mazatlan, together with a little bag of Cheetos (36 g) makes for a nice evening snack for me on my roof-top as I am winding down my day. I haven’t even seen Cheetos in a bigger bag than the 36 g, which is a good thing for me.
Yesterday I found myself doing something I never thought I would need to do, I had to pretend that I couldn’t speak Spanish.....I know! You’re thinking, “What do you mean pretend, you don’t speak Spanish” It wasn’t until I was pretending not to understand that I realized I could understand everything, and really had a hard time pretending that I didn’t. It was Sunday night and I was coming back from Mazatlan at 9:30 pm and arrived on the other side of the docks and had to wait for a boat with a older gentleman that had gone into the city to have some beers, a lot of beers, so the first thing he asks is do I live on the Island (rather obvious that I do as I am here this late catching a boat) so I say yes, well then of course, he wants to know where I live, this is when I pretend that I don’t understand him and I do the whole “no se” routine that I do with the lady at Casa Damasco. The poor man tried so hard and I must give him credit for that, he did not give up. The whole way on the boat he kept listing off names of people whom I could be renting from, “Carlotta, Sofia, o Daniela” I just kept shaking my head and sticking to my “no se”. It was during all this that I realized I could understand everything he was asking and I could have had a conversation him had I wanted too. I am getting a little frustrated with everyone wanting to know where I live. Last week some time I met a another gentleman that immediately upon meeting him decided he would bring a chicken to my house and we would BBQ, I told him I don’t have a BBQ, he thought an oven would be fine I said I didn’t have an oven either, then he was going to pick up an already cooked chicken, I told him I don’t have a table or chairs and that I was not set up for quests, I wanted to scream “stay away from me with your chicken”, but that would be rude, instead I just walked away in mid conversation, much politer. I don’t understand why Mexican men feel its ok to invite themselves to a women’s house that they have just met 2 minutes ago, or am I being too paranoid about this? Last week was terrible, if I wouldn’t have resorted to lying and being flat out rude I would have had a parade of men coming through my house all week. I don’t even care if they all had good intentions and just wanted to stop by to make the new gringa feels welcome, I don’t want men coming through my house every week, I’m just not that sociable and hospitable. The women I am meeting are just as friendly and willing to chat with me but don’t feel the need to invite themselves over. Oh well.....soon I’ll be old news around here, and then I might wish someone would stop by with an already cooked chicken.

A Bone of leg of meat

I went back to the meat market and picked up my 225 g of bone of leg of meat this morning, he did not have coffee on and the usual gang was hangin out. The young gentleman (I forgot to get his name) was very helpful (of course he asked me where I live.....why do they always need to know this?) and even cut it up into small pieces for me. This went into my crock pot with beans, onions, some jalapeño pepper and some lard (yes, lard.....don’t you judge me, when in Mexico do as the Mexicans do) the recipe called for maple syrup and mustard but I didn’t have any. It ended up being very very good, and I still have some bone of leg of meat in my freezer, I didn’t use it all.
Here’s a little Mexican culture tip that I need to work on.
Mexicans love idle chitchat and niceties. (Yes that is a word) When you pass a person on the street there is no such thing as just saying a quick “Hi” as you walk by, if you’re going to say hi, you are expected to stop and shake hands and say “good morning, how are you” then comes the reply “good morning, fine thank-you” now you’re going to continue walking so you shake hands again and say good-bye. If you are not prepared to do all this do not even look the person in the eye just keep walking, and do not say “hi”. When you approach a person to ask them something, whether it’s directions for someplace or you want to ask the meat guy for meat or the produce guy for some lettuce, you do not just walk up to him and say “hey, do you have any lettuce today”, you are again expected to go through the whole nice routine first, the hand shake, the greeting, and then you ask for lettuce and then the hand shake again and the good-bye, even if you just talked to him ½ hour ago on the other street, you must go through the routine. Plus, if you have met this person before or if someone that already knows this person introduces you, you also get a kiss on the cheek and are expected to kiss on the cheek back and from then on for ever and ever every time you meet this person there is cheek kissing. I’m not sure I’ll get used to this; do you know how many people I meet on Sunday at church? Remember I’m the greeter. You can choose not to participate in this but then you are known as the rude gringo and the Mexicans tend not to be as helpful......and I need all the help I can get these days. So I must remember to slow down, what’s my hurry anyway? I remembered after I left the meat market that I had forgotten to go through that whole routine with him so I must remember to do that next time or I’ll be labelled as the rude gringa in the neighbourhood and then who knows what kind of meat he’ll sell me. I also had a conversation with the shrimp guy this morning (didn’t buy any shrimp) and skipped the whole routine and cut right to the chase, “when do the boats stop running at night?” was what I needed to know, I don’t want to get stranded on the other side late at night. He was most helpful and according to my Spanish the boats run until midnight and then stop for “a little bit” and then for the rest of the night they run only one boat. I could not get how long “a little bit” is out of him. If you need a boat and it’s sitting at the other end you wave your hand in front of the light on the ticket booth, the flickering is the signal for the boat to come back. I love how most things are so simple here.

Friday, January 4, 2008

A little disclaimer

It suddenly dawned on me that I should perhaps stop using people’s names on this blog, as it is open to the public and some people may not want their personal stuff posted on the internet. So if you are reading this and I’ve mentioned your name in any of my stories, I apologize for that.
Also, regarding the dates and words like, today, tomorrow and yesterday......these may all be wrong. I write my stories off line in Microsoft word and then when I have access to the internet I load them onto the blog, the blog automatically adds the date, it’s the date it is posted not necessarily the date that the story is written. Since I’ve moved to the Island I don’t have internet so I will continue to write my stories and then take my laptop into town and load them all. However, I am going to borrow an antenna of some kind from Al that might help me to get a wireless connection out here. Knowing AL they could very well be tinfoil moose antlers that I have to wear on my head while I’m standing on my roof...wait, I live on the roof....that should work then.

Made a BIG mistake today

Hoooy, I made a big mistake today. There’s a Mexican gentleman that is in charge of making coffee at the church every Sunday and as I am now the new greeter I have gotten to know him a little. Today he casually mentions to me that he stopped to have a taco at a taco stand and it was an awful taco, I say “how can you go wrong with a taco, aren’t they all the same, a taco’s a taco, right?” Whoooo, he said “you did not just say that did you?” I was a little taken back by his huge reaction, “yes, they all seem the same to me from one street vendor to the next” Well, this man reacted as if I had just insulted every person he has ever loved or known and I got a long detailed taconology, apparently it is right up there with rocket science. A Mexican man takes great pride in the marinating, grilling, seasoning and chopping of the beef taco. So, he asked me if I’m up for a real lesson in the “real” Mexican taco, of course I am! Tomorrow night (most taco stands are only open at night) we will travel throughout a few different colonias (about 8) and order the same taco at each stand and see who has the best tacos. Can I eat 8 tacos in one evening? Maybe if we walk from colonia to colonia. I ask him if he would be totally embarrassed with me if I brought my camera, he said to bring my camera, notebook and pen and take notes as I am going to get a rare look inside the Mexican taco legacy. By the time we are done I should have a new appreciation for a “good” taco. I’m charging my camera batteries right now.

Casa Damasco and the meat market

Casa Damasco and the Meat Market
My day at Casa Damasco was rather uneventful. Sometime during the holidays they had a new kid show up, he looks to be somewhere between 18 and 25, a decent normal looking kid, doesn’t seem to have any handicaps and seems bright, I’m not sure why he’s there. Mirana, who always translates for us, was not there today so we were on our own. They had painted the place over Christmas, I love the colors, purple and blue but I wished I could have been there to do some cleaning first. Today we moved everyone inside to eat because it was too cold outside (I thought it was warmer outside than inside) I’m not sure if I mentioned this before but there is one gentleman that huddles with his knees pulled up to his chin in a corner all by himself all the time and never speaks, we could not get him inside. So we served him where he was. This morning I was reading in Matthew chapter 8 & 9 about all the miracles Jesus and his disciples preformed, and all the healing they did and I just prayed that I could see some of that at Casa Damasco, I don’t want to just read about it and tell people about it, I want to see it! Is this wrong, to want to see people set free miraculously? Is this man supposed to huddle in the corner until he dies of old age? What is to become of him? I don’t know what happened to him, or how he came to be in that corner and it shouldn’t matter, I don’t need to know, God knows. Otencia was full of conversation today and I listened intently and occasionally saying “entonces” and “no se”, we seem to be getting along ok. I was hoping she would have shed some of her baggage for the New Year but she was still hanging on to it.
After I got home I made a list of things I needed for my crock pot recipe including the meat I needed, I wrote it down just like it was written on the recipe. I hit the general store first and then off to the meat market, as usual there were about 5 dudes hanging out and I was tempted to change my mind but the thought of supplementing my protein with eggs for another 4 months made me stop, and really..... How dumb of me. So I stepped up and decide to cheat, I asked the biggest guy with the apron on “habla engles?” (Do you speak English?) He smiles with a very friendly smile and says “poco” a little. I say ta bien, mi espanol esta poco” that’s ok, my Spanish is very little. He asks me what I need, I show him the paper, he doesn’t have any today, but by tomorrow morning he will have, he opens at 7 am............him and I must be the only 2 people up at 7 on this Island (I wonder if he has coffee on) I have noticed that Mexicans don’t like to get up early, hard to find a restaurant that’s open for breakfast before 9 am. I don’t have to be in Mazatlan until 10 am so it works for me to come back in the morning. Turns out all the dudes hanging out there were all very nice and no hootchy kissy sounds as I was leaving. I still don’t know why there’re hanging out there, but if he has real coffee on at 7 tomorrow I’ll be hanging out there too. Did I mention I only have instant coffee at my house?