It had been fifteen years since I last visited Mexico in December. This year I couldn't miss it; my sister Elizabeth was been inaugurated as the first woman Mayor of our hometown , Xalapa, the state capital of Veracruz. In addition, my mother was inaugurated as the president of the municipal DIF, a position traditionally given to Mayor's spouses. But my mother is perfect for the task, and this time the DIF would be getting its hardest worker ever. I know it because I know my mom.
During my time there I managed to do most of the following:
Run in the Xalapa Stadium.
Eat bread from Xico.
Walk from Xalapa to Coatepec.
Learn that there is a clown's school in Puebla.
Make a silver key for my next book.
Travel to San Miguel de Allende.
Visit Rafael Lopez and his family.
Make Quetzaly sleep.
Work at the Esdrujuluz studio.
See my cousins that I hadn't see in nearly 30 years.
Take African dance class with Huicho.
Celebrate Dia de Reyes with my family.
Watch the ALA youth media award announcements (which can still be watched here)
Witness children strip their shirts in order to win a dancing contest.
Visit with my mother the Aldea, the boy's home in Xalapa.
See my prima Vanessa again.
Sleep under a mountain of blankets in Mo's house.
Find the Amarillo Gallery open, at last!
Gain two pounds. Sigh.
But since nothing tells a story better than images, here is a slide show of some of the pictures I took with my phone. The music is from Grupo Bermudas, No Voy a Trabajar. I might not need to point out that, once more, I left my heart in Mexico.
Showing posts with label mexico. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mexico. Show all posts
Monday, January 17, 2011
New Year in Mexico
Yuyi.
Two hands, callused feet.
Mother of a skyscraper.
Fears abduction by extraterrestrials.
Would like to move things with her mind.
Resident of the library forest.
Morales
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Thank you. Gracias.
Thank you for stories. Gracias.
Thank you for my drawing table. Gracias.
Thank you for my hands. Gracias.
Thank you for my son still sleeping. Gracias.
Thank you for Crazy Luna and always-hungry Chacho. Gracias.
Thank you for my fiery bougainvillea. Gracias.
Thank you for persimmons. Gracias.
Thank you for my husband's warm feet. Gracias.
Thank you for hot pink. Gracias.
Thank you for pastel de tres leches. Gracias.
Thank you for my writers group, The Revisionaries. Gracias.
Thank you for Skype and my sister, my brother, and Monica on the other side of the monitor. Gracias.
Thank you for Pat Mora and her poems. Gracias.
Thank you for my mandolin. Gracias.
Thank you for Ollin. Gracias.
Thank you for Tim's salsa verde. Gracias.
Thank you for my sewing machine. Gracias.
Thank you for John Parra and his paintings that remind me of my childhood. Gracias.
Thank you for books. Gracias.
Thank you because I could never be done saying gracias.
Yuyi.
Two hands, callused feet.
Mother of a skyscraper.
Fears abduction by extraterrestrials.
Would like to move things with her mind.
Resident of the library forest.
Morales
Thursday, August 28, 2008
What we brought from Mexico
For the first time in my life I missed my plane—my plane from SFO to Mexico City. Serenely I saw my flight leave without me. It was O.K. Everything has a reason, even if that reason if for me to learn to read the clock correctly.
Besides Mexico was still there when I arrived twelve hours latter, hot and humid like I remembered. The river was still there too, and so were the cobblestone streets, the stray dogs roaming and howling at night, and my mother with a hose in her hand watering her jungle of a garden.
At the Callejon del Diamante I bought a necklace of giant ojo de venado seeds, eyes of dear seeds traditionally tied on children with red ribbons to prevent the evil eye. I believe I am protected now for a hundred years.
Lalo the jewel maker lives in a three story house with a patio with a jinicuil tree. My friend Meche says the fruit might be delicious but those trees are full of hairy caterpillars, the kind that stings you and would give you a fever. Good thing Lalo spends most of his time inside his studio making silver and wooden jewelry, like the rings he made for my husband Tim and I; two rings made of one same silver band with prehispanic seashells design.
Luis Felipe has long hair down his waist (and so does his wife and their daughter) and he makes Jaranas out of one single piece of wood. As the vocalist and requinto player of the group Los Sonex, he is one of the best musicians in town. His group have just released their first album, there one can hear the song La Bamba being interpreted by the by the vocalist of the Café Tacuba . I wanted to buy the CD and so I looked for it all over town, but everywhere I went the album was sold out. Instead Kelly my son took requinto lessons from Luis Felipe and so, at the end we managed to bring his music home.
Did I bring anything else from Mexico? I made new pants sewing together patterned fabrics in many colors, and I have them here with me now. I brought coconut candy that I have been eating carefully and little by little after dinner. I carried a whole suit case full of jars of hot salsa with almonds. I had Señora Bordadora embroidering flowers on one a dress. Manuela gave me a reboso soft and multicolored like a fiesta. We also brought the strength of the river with its floating dragon flies and its singing rocks. We carried inside us the amazing heat of the ancient Temazcal bath that one takes inside a clay little room shaped like belly, where they bring red-hot burning rocks inside and then seal the doors so that one can feel like bring devoured by the earth.
Along we brought the love of our family with their laughs and their jokes, the food shared for hours and hours, the music at the neighbors house that the whole street can hear, the traffic stuck behind the garbage truck in a narrow street, the tortilla soup at the Green Leave restaurant where people can come in with their dogs, the handmade posters on the street encouraging people to walk more and drive less, the ice-cream cart outside the supermarket, which sells the most delicious helado de mamey ever, and the itching stings of a hundred mosquitoes.
And all of these should last us long enough.
Photograps by Kelly O’Meara
Besides Mexico was still there when I arrived twelve hours latter, hot and humid like I remembered. The river was still there too, and so were the cobblestone streets, the stray dogs roaming and howling at night, and my mother with a hose in her hand watering her jungle of a garden.
At the Callejon del Diamante I bought a necklace of giant ojo de venado seeds, eyes of dear seeds traditionally tied on children with red ribbons to prevent the evil eye. I believe I am protected now for a hundred years.
Lalo the jewel maker lives in a three story house with a patio with a jinicuil tree. My friend Meche says the fruit might be delicious but those trees are full of hairy caterpillars, the kind that stings you and would give you a fever. Good thing Lalo spends most of his time inside his studio making silver and wooden jewelry, like the rings he made for my husband Tim and I; two rings made of one same silver band with prehispanic seashells design.
Luis Felipe has long hair down his waist (and so does his wife and their daughter) and he makes Jaranas out of one single piece of wood. As the vocalist and requinto player of the group Los Sonex, he is one of the best musicians in town. His group have just released their first album, there one can hear the song La Bamba being interpreted by the by the vocalist of the Café Tacuba . I wanted to buy the CD and so I looked for it all over town, but everywhere I went the album was sold out. Instead Kelly my son took requinto lessons from Luis Felipe and so, at the end we managed to bring his music home.
Did I bring anything else from Mexico? I made new pants sewing together patterned fabrics in many colors, and I have them here with me now. I brought coconut candy that I have been eating carefully and little by little after dinner. I carried a whole suit case full of jars of hot salsa with almonds. I had Señora Bordadora embroidering flowers on one a dress. Manuela gave me a reboso soft and multicolored like a fiesta. We also brought the strength of the river with its floating dragon flies and its singing rocks. We carried inside us the amazing heat of the ancient Temazcal bath that one takes inside a clay little room shaped like belly, where they bring red-hot burning rocks inside and then seal the doors so that one can feel like bring devoured by the earth.
Along we brought the love of our family with their laughs and their jokes, the food shared for hours and hours, the music at the neighbors house that the whole street can hear, the traffic stuck behind the garbage truck in a narrow street, the tortilla soup at the Green Leave restaurant where people can come in with their dogs, the handmade posters on the street encouraging people to walk more and drive less, the ice-cream cart outside the supermarket, which sells the most delicious helado de mamey ever, and the itching stings of a hundred mosquitoes.
And all of these should last us long enough.
Photograps by Kelly O’Meara
Yuyi.
Two hands, callused feet.
Mother of a skyscraper.
Fears abduction by extraterrestrials.
Would like to move things with her mind.
Resident of the library forest.
Morales
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Busy May
Much happened in the last month. Things like:
San Benito, Texas, with a beautiful author's festival that looked like...
Terry in her dress
Authors and organizers
Sweet bread, pan dulce, for 600 people
aguas frescas of delicious flavors
My amigo Rene Colato full of stories
And the High School mariachi band that made me cry
And then, one afternoon, when we were free from school visits and festival, we, eight children’s books authors and two organizers, crossed the border and, if only for a few hours, my Corazon was where it belongs: We were in Mexico.
Yuyi.
Two hands, callused feet.
Mother of a skyscraper.
Fears abduction by extraterrestrials.
Would like to move things with her mind.
Resident of the library forest.
Morales
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