The Sunny Spot

My "gringo" kitty Sammy Beckett who made the trip south with me.

Abundance

The limes, avocado, and peppers are from my yard. The tomatoes and banana are Tuesday market produce. Fresh fruit and vegetables every day, easily and in abundance.

Sweet Alfalfa

Thirty bales of alfalfa delivered yesterday for our ex-plow horse Simon. May he enjoy the ease and good fortune of his retirement.

Mexican Sunflowers

When I first moved to Mexico just over a year ago, these flowers were everywhere, along the highway, in the cornfields, and decorating rural lanes. And now, here they are again marking my anniversary.

The Key Key (in case we lose the cheat sheet)

Gold = front door.

Purple = back door.

Blue = front gate (guest).

Plain = front gate (gravel lot).

White = master bedroom.

Pink = laundry room.

Black = hay barn.

Red = tool shed (aka, the old chicken house).

Yellow = pump house (aka, the well house and the garden shed).

Guadalajara - Summer 2013

Guadalajara, summer before last, for two weeks. I never blogged about it. Eric, his daughter Cassedy, and I stayed in the historic center and took language classes at IMAC. We drank machine-drip coffee before school but had the best bakery items possible during break. I savored my infrequent lattes, made a few friends, took a carriage ride, and now know a little bit more about Mexico.

Village in the Sun (1945)

This book is about Ajijic, a small village situated between a lake and a mountain, found within close distance to the larger Chapala and the even larger Guadalajara. Currently, Ajijic is a thriving expat community full of Americans and Canadians, but in 1945, when Village in the Sun was first published Ajijic was a remote, hard-to-reach pueblo accessible easiest by water. The author Dane Chandos (a pseudonym for Peter Lilley, Nigel Millet, and Anthony Stansfield) was one of the area's earliest foreign residents.

Very little happens in this book. The writing is heavily descriptive about birds, dogs, the water, light, sunsets, fruit, and flowers. It's a beautiful night-time read, very painterly and restful, right before you go to sleep. A paradise of Eden in print.

The narrator, known only as el Señor, is kind but remote to the story's plot. He is primarily an observer. The real characters are the Indios: Candelaria the cook, Cayetano el mozo (a joven/youth with butler duties), Don Bernabe the builder, and to a lesser degree many others including the three seamstress sisters, Aurora the laundry woman with a sour face, and the revolving maids who work together to keep the position filled. While the Indios may be antiquated in practice, their dialogue is translated with an elegance reminiscent of Shakespearean English. Chandos clearly has respect for the culture in which he lives and writes. El Senor's visitors are not quite as accepting, though. Some of the Europeans who breeze through the small town and some of the big-city Mexicans are condescending and rude. Social class is definitely an issue in 1940s Mexico and the external world is moving in. At the end of the novel, the presence of a powerboat on the lake sums it up. Mexico is changing. And so is Ajijic. The future of the small village is foreshadowed by Don Pedro who takes a loss every year in anticipation of the time when Ajijic will become a resort town with conveniences. That time is now.

On Mexican Time (1999)

On Mexican Time is the travelogue of Tony Cohan and his wife Masako Takahashi. They leave LA on holiday, return home, pack it up, sell their house, and move to San Miguel de Allende for the next 15 years. Tony learns the language, makes friends, and comments on the culture but something in his account is missing ....

About halfway through the book, I realize Tony's wife is not an integral part of the story. The author will comment on her art, or an exhibit she's having, but rarely does he mention what they do together as a couple. Masako is portrayed as someone constantly shopping for trinkets and objects. After wandering town or country side, Tony will return home and describe items left on the dining room table, but not how he reconnects with his wife. In fact, only once do I detect real intimacy between them. (Tony and Masako take a side trip and share stories of their childhood.)

Occasionally, I sense a hardness in Masako, an unwillingness to carry on with a project or an anger at having been left to do it alone. During Semana Santa one year, Tony's daughter visits and is hospitalized with typhus. He spends the night at the hospital and throughout the whole ordeal does not mention his wife. Would she not share in her husband's concern or take part in this episode of their lives?

Overall, the description is strong but characterization is lacking in On Mexican Time. With the exception of Rene who becomes legend in the town and maybe Hillario who has an affair with one of the maids, Tony's friends seem more like acquaintances and Masako only a part of the story in the necessity of telling of it. The living character of Mexico unfortunately does not fill the gap for me. When Tony returns to America, his departure seems abrupt and his explanation for leaving empty (something about "business calls"). I was not surprised to learn later via google that Tony and Masako eventually divorced.

Inspiration

Guadalupe

Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe is a symbol of the Mexican nation and of all Catholic Mexicans. A combination of the Virgin Mary and an indigenous goddess Tonantzin, she appeared before an old Aztec Indian in 1531 making it easier for the native people of the new world to accept a pagan version of Christianity.

I went in search of a small image like the one on the left and ended up instead with a small copper box with an indentation of the Guadalupe de Extramadura as seen on the right. For more information about the history of Guadalupe, go here.

Carnaval in Ajijic

The carnaval parade consisted of macho men dressed in drag, women riding as beauty queens on butterfly floats, horses dancing with music, and children throwing confetti and flour at each other and the crowd. Very basic, but a lot of fun.

Zaragoza Street

The street outside the Casa de las Flores Bread & Breakfast in Ajijic, Mexico. We woke to the sound of roosters crowing, walked down to the lake in search of coffee, bought cheese and bread instead, and then spent the day riding horses and drinking Corona.

And just behind these walls are lovely suites, a sunken swimming pool, interior gardens, and intense family life. Mexico is exactly what you would be expect it to be, only better.

Guadalajara

A 1939 travel poster. If the airports are open and flights are on schedule, this is the plan for the next week.

Like Water For Chocolate (1989)

Like Water for Chocolate is Laura Esquivel's highly-acclaimed novel about two lovers who are unable to acknowledge their relationship in public. The title refers to Tita's boiling point, both in terms of anger and sexual tension.

Tita, the main character, is free only in the kitchen, a place where she can express herself through the preparation and serving of food. Esquivel's narrative goes into very little descriptive detail and is driven primarily by a wide range of emotion: love, desire, jealousy, hatred, and fear. Culturally, the story explores the Mexican tradition where the youngest daughter is expected to stay unmarried in order to take care of her mother into old age. In the end, while I appreciated Esquivel's dose of magic realism, I couldn't get past the strained family relations.