Ophelia and Valentine in Guanajuato

Ophelia's kitchen is the place where students and other assorted guests can eat breakfast - desayuno, and converse - platicar  in Spanish. Ophelia laughs easily, and speaks very slowly - despacio. Her guesthouse sits on the upper hills within the city of Guanajuato, Mexico, designated a " Pueblo Magico"

Below the house there is a hillside of trees and a nice stone stairway down to the callejon below, sort of an alley. Guanajuato is built into the canyons of a hillside below mountains where a huge vein of silver was discovered and exploited by the Spanish around 1522. Of course the native peoples were the miners and builders who did the work in creating the churches, mansions and haciendas of this very lovely city. The Spanish took so much silver though, that they flooded the world market, which brought the price of silver down, and eventually bankrupted their country. Karma.

Now the city has universities, a large music school, and several other private schools of higher learning. Most of Ophelia's guests are students. We were lucky, as we landed in Guanajuato between sessions at the nearby colleges. We had our pick of rooms, and then our pick of beds within the room. I made Ophelia and her daughter Juanita laugh when I commented that the rooms were so big that "necesitamos hijos" -we need children.

Our mornings in Ophelia's kitchen sharing stories of our families, our work, and our homes were not anything which could be duplicated by having spent 5 times as much money on a fancy hotel. We found the guesthouse through the hard work of Curtis, and a nice bit of luck. (Our karma was good that day).  We found a little haven to spend 3 days and nights exploring the old, very European looking city in its rarefied mountain altitude.

 Ophelia's husband, Valentine, was born on Valentine's Day, like my Dad. Valentine is a musician, so he and Curtis could talk instruments. He was fun to talk to, even if I understood far less of what he said, because he didn't speak slowly like Ophelia. I liked to just look at the lines of his face, and watch his expressions. He has a beautiful countenance.

By the time we packed up to leave, it was necessary to get photos and share email addresses with our hosts. This posting is for you, dear Ophelia, amiga mia... who agreed with me that motherhood is una camino grande - a long road, who gave me a ladder to climb onto the rooftop to practice yoga, who proudly showed us the world of magnets on her refrigerator from the guests who stayed and were touched by her careful words, bubbling laugh, warm food and open heart. To you, who made us feel at home, we look forward to our return again someday. For now, I must decide on a magnet to send, so you will think of us in your kitchen.

11*11*11

Leaving Mexico city is an adventure in itself. I hope the binary date is suerte - luck.

Yesterday we marched with the "Indignato" group, indignant that 7 million youth between the ages of 14 and 26 have no employement and no ecucation. They are asking for a mere 2% of The Mexican GDP to be allocated for free public university education.

The winds picked up as we marched down Avenue Chapultapec, closing it to afternoon traffic -5 pm! Many horns answered the march. The rains increased until I thought I was back in Portland. When we finally left the march and gained shelter at the Sanborn's cafe, I was grateful to find a hearty warm vegetable soup, sope de verduras.
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Our friend, Almendra, one of the young occupiers and organizers of the march gave us hearty good bye hugs in mid-march. We promised to keep in touch via facebook. What a beautiful young woman, who radiates her ideal... working to better the human condition.

I googled Edur Valesco, the professor who is today on his 31st day of a hunger strike, His story deserves a whole separate blog. He is the inspiration for many of the youth who are living in tents in the center of the Mexican financial district. As I depart, I leave part of my heart with them. No matter how hard life gets, there will always be humans who work for justice, without desire for wealth and comfort. This informs my journey, as it winds back to my wonderful family and the green hills of Chehalem mountain.

Dreaming of the Dead

Going to towns in  Mexico to see the  elaborate celebrations for "Day of the Dead" has always been on my list of things to do. During the past week we saw everything from the night bike ride, in costume, in Mexico City, to the extravagant graveyard decorations in the small town of Tzintzunzan near Patzcuaro, in Michoacan State.
 The profusion of marigolds, baby's breath  and cockscomb flowers endeared me to the culture which can decorate the graves of their loved ones so beautifully. The families often sit all night at the grave site, sleeping or sitting by a little campfire. It made me want to curl up next to them and think about the people I have lost in my life.

 It felt strange to be watching something which is held to be private in my own culture. Our friend we were staying with that night told us the locals expect guests to come, and do they ever get them. The highway was backed up for a mile, giant tour buses maneuvered through seas of cars, all this on small roads built in villages for an ox cart to pass. It is hard to describe.

Last night we were treated to a visit with our dentist, Antonio, and his wife, Gabi and her Mom to the grave of a dear school pal of Gabi's who died of cancer at 17. We drove across the busy traffic choked town, to a Panteon on the hillside. There was music, flowers, food vendors for blocks, and 2 giant trampolines especially set up for the children.
It was very sad to watch the greiving, but as we walked out of the Panteon, I was able to ask, in my funny Spanish, if Gabi dreams of Claudia when she is asleep. She said she often does, and agreed that dreaming is a comfort. She told me that her sisters and Claudia's sisters are now a very close knit group because of the death, and that is bueno, a good outcome from sadness.
We ate baked sweetened calabasa at the family table afterwards, and I showed photos of my own family. The women especially were very interested. I think women are the visual ones in the world. They did not ask me what anyone did for a living, or where they lived, but they loved seeing the faces. My most recent family picture of Arlyn, Amery and Kirsten has the Huskies, Tahoe and Meeka front and center. They loved the 'perecitos' and when I said the word "Huskie", one sister, Laura, nodded her head and replied in a very well enunciated tone -"Alaska".

Today I had my teeth cleaned and 2 small fillings done. Antonio is so gentle, quick, and easy going. He does hilarious impressions of an American accent as he pronounces certain words. Even his facial expressions when he does it entertain me as many comedians fail to do. It is good to have a funny dentist, and he can sing "Flor de Canella" in Perepecha and Spanish both.


Not the least of what Antonio has done for us is to let us stay at his home. All the hotels were full because of the holiday, and we needed to remain in town to get our dental work, so here I am, writing from the little row house home that the family stays at when they are not with the extended family in town... which they are tonight.
I joked to them (at the risk of offending certain sacred concepts) that we are like the couple at Christmas when there was no room at the Inn.They made a place for us, shared their table and made us feel at home. They have the beautiful hearts Christ would like to see in the world.