A Touch of Color

Saturday = War.

We woke up, it was raining. I sent the all call on Facebook: "Rain or shine it's paint war time" (it didn't translate quite as well). We had the finishing touches on some shopping to do afterward, a birthday party to crash (okay, yeah, we were invited) and a Bible study to attend, oh, and pack.
We gathered our gear, bumbershoot in hand and went out into the rain and into Lulu's car. Her and Mike came by the house to give us a ride so we didn't have to walk in the mud and try and catch a bus in the rain. It's not exactly on their way in to come and get us; it's actually a 15 minute route in the opposite direction. We are so loved here and we can certainly feel it.
We made it to the church (more or less on time) and only Oti was their waiting on us. We let her in out of the rain and began making phone calls to rally the troops. After an hour or so we were 7. We put on our white raiment and selected our arms (I picked the two I had). There were enough bottles for everyone to have 3 with a couple left over. I gave the rules talk, that there were in fact no rules but there were boundaries. I counted down from 10 and shot a few pictures of the opening madness before joining the fray. Needless to say, 5 minutes later, we were all well painted.
The cleanup (like all wars), took longer than the war itself, but we were all smiles. We took the after shots of the before and after series, and departed in the light drizzle that became a heavy drizzle but kindly stopped there.
Kimb and I footed it through the Llano to the Zocalo, encountered a few of the goods we had in mind, bought some churros, ate some churros and became a grandmaster umbrella maneuverer (I had the height advantage over some of the umbrella toters, but poles, lines, wires, trees, etc. it was still difficult). At one of the stops a man sized up our painted apparel and asked us what we were protesting, I quickly replied, "The lack of color in the world!"
We were tired but had a few kilometers before we could sleep. We caught a bus to Gerardo's and found everyone out in the driveway under a tarp. The tables were set with food and music filled the space in the air that wasn't filled with rain. We were welcomed to seats, painted though we were, and served a magnificent chile relleno de pollo. It was fabulous. We were only able to stay a short while before Flor came to pick us up for the Bible study, but we enjoyed our time and left a gift for Alma Rosa.
Flor came and we went. Miguel and Lulu joined us and Jose Luis was there. We went through the study, and we talked more about the church in general. I gave some other thoughts, and we shared. Lulu and Miguel left (Migue to the nightshift at Santo Domingo), but we stayed for lasagna prepared by Raul and Pepe (Flor and Jose Luis sons). It was delicious. We chatted and exchanged videos, mine from facebook and youtube and Jose Luis from a dvd from a trip to Las Vegas where their heads were superimposed on a set of dancing guys (really funny).
Before we left they gave us the name of a hotel in DF and told us we should check it out. They also told us to use taxi's and how to get to the airport. They then took us to our beloved Cafe a Pan (coffee shop), where we could get a few kilo's for the road. We made it home and began the second fight of the day. We were very tired but made the final push as best we could, clothes mostly in suitcases and gifts and bobbles strewn about with hopes of braving the boarder. We tried to fall asleep but some things aren't meant to be until very, very late. Our last full day in Oaxaca has come to an end.

Gifts, Tacos and Mosquitos.

We have been here six weeks today. And today is the first time we have ventured to the Llano on a Friday. Why is this significant you ask? Because the Llano on Friday is a swarming anthill after an 8 year old kicks it. It's the high school hallway when the 3 o'clock bell rings. It's a festive, crowded, aromatic, and all around delightful experience. We made this trip primarily because I had never gotten to make it before, but also because we had some things in mind that we wanted to bring back to our friends and family to share a piece of what has been a marvelous adventure to Mexico.
We made a pit stop at the church, to meet Jose so that he could show us where the bottle store was. He took us just a few blocks to the miniature equivalent of The Container Store. We purchased tiny little squirt bottles which would become our swords and daggers in the Guerra de Pintura. Jose had to leave to take his raw meat home, and so we parted ways and headed for the park.
En route Victor rode up behind us on his motorcycle, calling out "Sack Attack" (Zach Attack for those of you who might not be able to translate such spanglish). We said what would be goodbye, he wasn't going to be able to come on Saturday or Sunday, and he rode off into... a red light. We passed him (walking on the sidewalk) and waved again. We rounded the corner and there it was essence of taco and the sound of many voices and laughter. There were tents everywhere. Vendors were selling everything from clothes to raw meet to jewelry. Our first stop was a taco stand. Not the average street stand though, this baby was well equip for mass production. There was a guy manning the grill full of huge slabs of beef and pork. Two guys were filling orders, another was fanning the smoke, another two were taking money and orders, and yet another still was chopping veggies and limes. The line moved relatively fast. There were some kids in front of us with school uniforms on, and many families with all ages of children. I had pork tacos, Zach had a few of pork and a few beef. It was DELICIOUS. Tacos are on a small corn tortilla (about the circumference of a wide coffee cup) and have cilantro rice and meat in them. Nothing else. The meat is grilled to perfection and it tastes outstanding just by itself. It is customary to squeeze fresh lime juice over the meet, and pour some salsa on as well. But that is it. Zach ordered a coffee flavored drink that tasted kind of like a frappuccino.
Our first turn out of the stand took us down the only short row of tents. We walked around to where the bulk of the activity was and met a guy from Argentina selling jewelry. He has been away from his family for a year and 8 months just traveling around Central America and now Mexico. He asked us about going to the States, he was thinking he might venture up to California, but at this point he thought it was too expensive. Zach talked to him about the book he was reading, and he was intrigued to hear about Zach's Anthropology background. He was a Spanish speaking Randal Gabriel, in every sense. We browsed around, found some beads for Zach's new Rastas, and some incense and tons of things to look at. Our feet were worn and Zach's Spanish was tired so we decided to trek back to the church to rest before bible study. After not too long the men showed up (just Miguel and Jose) and they studied.
After class we went in the rain with Gerardo, Alma Rosa and Toti for more tacos. Gerardo drives like a bat out of Hades, and can't see worth beans. Alma Rosa and I were giggling at him from the back seat and he asked me: "Kimberly can you see that license plate in front of us" I read him the combination of numbers and letters, to which he replied "Ah, but can you see that Mosquito on the number four." He is quite the joker. We made it safe, dined well, drank a liter of club soda with fresh strawberries, were invited to Alma Rosa's birthday the next day, and even made it through the mud without drowning or getting stuck. Our weary bones laid to sleep with great expectations for the day to come.

Thor's Day

It thundered, it rained. In the few minutes of sunshine around noon we brought the puppies out of the cave for a little bask in the light. They have started opening their eyes, and are very fat. We spent most of this day making sure we had everything in place for our return home. With the help of my wonderful mom and Zach, our flight from Mexico City to Dallas was to be just fine, as long as we could make it to the airport in time to catch the flight around 9:40 Monday morning. Zach found that we could take a bus to Mexico City on Sunday after church, and be there around dinner time. We had only to find a place to lay our heads for the night. And to purchase the bus tickets.

Our day was nice, we relaxed, tried to organize our things and our thoughts, and spent a good day together. Jose had planned to come over and watch Rocky II with us, and he did come over, but was called by a friend a few moments after arriving, and then he left to help his friend with homework (Jose is very bright, and has a degree in physics (I might have asked him for help with my homework too)). After Jose left Zach was going to fix some dinner, but instead learned that the Gas had run out (there would be no stove, oven, dryer, or hot showers for the rest of our stay). He opted for a sandwich, and we settled in to watch Mel try to shave in the bathtub, but unfortunately (or fortunately) learned "What Women Want."

The Anniversary Gift

Today Zach and I have been married for 8 months. That is 243 days (I think. That’s some tricky mental math for this time of day and in this state of mind). We ventured into town for breakfast at Esperanza’s café. She is a wonderful cook, and unbelievably gracious. She would give us all of our food when we came if we would let her, but we always try to sneak a payment by leaving it at the table. We both had a rice milk drink that was really delicious. After breakfast we planned to walk around to go back to the fabric stores. On the way we stopped at a Juicery (ha) and Zach got. . . the Fortifier. It was apple, strawberry, orange, something foreign, and marvelous. We purchased the last of the fabric that the store had, and some more yarn, and then headed back to the church. We had been trying all week to make plans for a movie at the Cinepolis with Jose, but each time it seemed like something else came up. We called him from the church but since it was BOGO day at the movies he opted to stay back since he couldn’t find anyone to come with him. We boarded a bus and got off in front of the Soriana and made a stop for drinks and candy (which we assumed would be cheaper than at the theater) Gummy worms in hand Zach bought tickets for the movie, and we got some popcorn (luckily we didn’t get the chili powder kind). And unlike many other movie-goers, we did not put catchup on our popcorn. We saw Inception with Dicaprio. It was actually really neat. Unlike many movies I have seen, and really stretched your perception of reality. Y’all should redbox this one if you haven’t already seen it. The movie got out at 6 and we were supposed to be at Soledad’s house for the study at 6. We ran through the rain to the bus stop, but to no avail, we still had to stand for a while to wait for a bus. We made it to the study and were able to be there in enough time to catch most of it. (Thank you Mexican watches.) Jose had already begun a little Journey through the experience of Daniel with the group, and we were glad to join in. Cafecito and pan was served and we chatted with everyone. Rosita (Jorge’s mom) informed us that her latest update had been that the family would not be leaving Texas until Sunday, which would put them home Tuesday or Wednesday. We were not concerned, because we had been assured that Lulu would take us to the airport Monday morning if that is what we needed to do. With that contentment, and that of having a plane to take us home when we needed, we got on a bus to go visit, one last time, the Tlyuda lady. The meal would nourish both Zach’s stomach, and dreams. And we got home having spent a wonderful day together. Waiting for us on the phone however, was a missed call from my house. Come to find out, Mexicana Click (the airplane that we were taking to Mexico City for our connection to Dallas) had, along with the company, tanked, and would be making no more journeys. We rested well despite the speed bump, and opted to cross that bridge in the morning.

The Rain came Down and Mud came Up

Date canceled, better postponed ‘til Friday. It rained and rained and rained. We took our last day of rest and prepared to weigh anchor and sail like mad for the rest of the week.

This is the Ride that Never Ends…

Today we fulfill a promise that has gone uncompleted for quite some time. We made it to the church on time, as far as we could tell, and waited. We waited long enough that I had to call and make sure my head was on straight. Yes, Norma was on her way to meet us at the church. We found her and got a taxi to take us to the house. We walked a little ways to get there but it was a nice day. We got there and saw Eric, her son. We all sat at the table and she brought piping hot chocolate and bread. It was the best hot chocolate I’ve had all trip. We talked. Eric and Norma used to attend the church we go to but are going to another Church of Christ closer to their house. It is quite trip, and I don’t blame them. We enjoyed a home cooked meal and continued talking. Norma loves taking pictures, so she showed us a number of photos she has taken over the years. It was a pleasant afternoon. I invited Eric to the upcoming paint war, and he left to go to school. Norma showed us her garden and the rooftop addition that is currently in the works. She walked us down to the bus stop and hailed a bus. She was a bit hesitant because it was one of the routes she told me to take, but asked the bus driver if he would drop us off close to the bus station (which is a block from the church), and he said he would.
We boarded with hope of returning home victorious. And we succeeded, after a time. We were one of the first few on the bus and as it wound around the city and back we found ourselves to be the only ones on the bus. I knew the general direction of the church from where we were but didn’t really feel like walking all that way. The driver pulled up a side street and stopped the bus in the middle of the road. He began changing the little placards on the front window that tell where the bus is going. It has been well over an hour because there was considerable traffic. I finally asked him, if he was going to the bus station, he replied, “Ahorita” which means soon or nowish. We waited and we made it to the station. We stopped by the caseta to make a date for tomorrow with Gerardo and Alma Rosa (since this is our last week). We went home.

Pizza’s Here (Get off the Bleachers)

It’s Sunday, big plans, big events, high hopes, like I hope it doesn’t rain (impossible (I hope it doesn’t rain all day)). To serve communion at church, the person presiding says a few words and reads a little then invites men up to pass the emblems. It’s voluntary, if you would like to help you just get up and go to the front though they only need two. So I jumped up this Sunday and walked down front. I know this is a really somber event for many people and I don’t want to impinge on that but at the same time I would like to demonstrate the joy and thankfulness that also comes during the supper, so I smiled. Made a concerted effort to smile, not that it was hard, being up front and looking out at all of the people who have taken such good care of us, every face a memory of goodness, kindness, patience and love.

After church we mounted the bus, 7 in the first wave with more to come. We hopped off in Tule to get some drinks while Kimb took her first solo trip. She continued on, a whole ¼ mile down the road, to the house so she could get the dough going for the pizza since it takes time to rise and all that bakery jazz. We tromped home, a happy troop and were heartily greeted by Snuki. We showed everyone the puppies and offered drinks, etc. It wasn’t raining, so I went to the laundry room and found the most unlike of items to be located in a laundry room: a croquet set. I passed outside to setup the most ingenious, perilous (but not too perilous), dastardly course in Oaxacan history. It’s easiest to get people involved in something they know nothing about when you put an odd shape implement in their hand, toss them a ball and herd them outside. We had a great time, all of being unpracticed or just unskilled made for great laughs and extraordinary play. The last stretch to the stake had to be traversed with caution and a due since of dread and hesitation as the minelayer had been working at full capacity all morning. The small (and some not so small) shrines looked to be a tribute to Montezuma, needless to say you could smell his revenge if you were to tread on one.

The dinner bell ring and called us in from our second round around. The first pizza was hot and delicious, it was smiles and sauce all around. The second pizza came out piping hot and the festivities continued, through the third, fourth and with the fifth the Mexican juggernaut came grinding to a halt. There was still boasting that the fifth could be vanquished, but it was left mostly unscathed. Then the brownies came. A few asked coffee and a few partook of the brownies, but they were so full. MY PLAN WORKED!! Almost all of the brownies were my!!! Not that I was not willing to share but if they were full and there were brownies left…

We sat and talked, Jesus Ricardo sat in the rocking chair, Mike handed him his glasses and draped an afghan over his shoulders with the nostalgic light filtering in from the window behind him it was a classic (really it put 25 years on him) pic.

We listened to music; I helped Kimb clean the kitchen (because I wanted to help and because I thought it important to show a husband serving in his house). The crowded wandered out into the street and back to their homes.

When the last departed, we sat on the couch in the silence. You know the feeling after a pleasant hurricane of people have filled your house and now it’s just the two of you. It was good; Kimb is a great cook, and she worked so hard all afternoon to prepare the food and clean afterwards. We popped some popcorn and popped in a movie. We were supposed to watch Rocky 2 with Jose but he had to go (it was getting late). No worries, we’ll watch it some other time. We watched Fantastic Four, both having seen it, but enjoyed it nonetheless. We rested or tried at least.

Punctual: To Be or Not To Be

I HAVE DONE IT!!!! I have uncovered Mexico's deepest, darkest secret! I know the answer to the systemic endemic that plagues this entire nation!!!
It all started when we were going to meet Norma (who had previously canceled on us (no problem happens all the time)) at 1 o'clock at the church building. We do our morning jig, and get to the stop in time to stop the bus, on the bus, cruising at the speed of the mariachi's maracas, arriving just before the singer began his 17th attempt to croon his ex-lover back into his arms. We get to the church: no one. Not uncommon. We wait. I walk down, next door ask the time, the lady ignores me, I tap her on the should (I used my bus hailing finger, it works the best), and demand in my most polite spanish accent (somewhere between Antonio Banderas and a lovable Jim Carrey (sorry: big teeth, brown hair, kind of gangly)) for her to tell me what time it is. She says it is 12:15. She was right, I saw her watch, that's what it said. It was so wrong. I walked away passing a gentleman with a watch. I asked him if he had the time. He said he did. 1:30. Thank you. Another field test revealed that it was 1:20 and so on and so forth. Everyone here arrives on time, being as punctual as their northern counterparts; the problem lies in the fact that each has his own time!! Eureka!!!
I got tired of waiting. I called Norma. She wasn't coming. I had neglected to call and confirm (like I said I would (totally my fault)) so she wasn't coming and we should try again on Monday. Okay, very good, we'll do that. So we called Flor to let her know the Bible study could begin whenever they were ready. We went home.
Flor came and picked us up. We had a great study. It was short. We finished talking about submission in regards to the government from Romans (they study Romans so much here). I mentioned Daniel and his dilemmas, and was astonished to hear that none present had heard of Daniel nor were even remotely aware of his story. So we cracked the Old, which I love doing (thanks Dr. Fortner), and began reading, chapter 1, chapter 2, 3 and 4. I added some commentary and background for the story to bring to focus some of the teachings and lessons that could be had. It was a wonderful and fulfilling time of study and inspiration.
Afterward, I showed Jose Luis (who is a photographer by trade) one of my own personal techniques involving change of shutter speed and manual zoom adjustment. We shared bread and coffee and chatted for a good while.
Our chariot sped us home. We arrived and departed, minds leaving the body to explore the world of what could be, perhaps should be and those that never will.

The Waiting

Tom Petty was right; the waiting is the hardest part.

Disclaimer: before, during and after the following event: Everyone is okay and in good health (unless they have been subjugated to Snuki's ninja gas since this has been published (if that is the case, there is no hope)).

We told the little Indian man with the mop and wet floor signs that we had an appointment, and I took my seat in the first waiting room of our relationship (I'm sure there will be more to follow). I read, chatted with one of the attendants, read some more, chatted with a worker, listened to the music playing in the office, thought about reading some more, contemplated life, solved world hunger, almost fell asleep, wanted to fall asleep, sat as still as possible for as long as possible, looked very closely at my hands, knotted the tip of a dread, watched people walk by, almost thought about something, gauged the hunger factor, considered donating my butt to science, wondered if I could have my lower back removed and in the spirit of the moment and room: waited.
She found me; I found her; we found each other (yeah like before, except again and now). We walked to Santo Domingo and ate tacos; good tacos (I'm going to bottle waiting and sell it as a seasoning). In good gopheric fashion (I don't know what's with me and gophers lately), Jose pooped, I mean, popped out a little restaurant. If it strange to run into some one you know in a place, multiply that feeling by factor diez when in a foreign country. He joined us; it rained (big surprise), so we dodged into a coffee shop and had coffee (another surprise). It finished raining and we made it to the church for the study. Isidro joined and so did Ramiro. Ramiro is staying in an upper floor apartment on the church grounds, as he is from a smaller town but is studying here in Oaxaca. We talked about the concept of Two Pacts (or Covenants); it was really good. I find myself enjoying the examination and discussion of the Old Testament much more fulfilling than the New, probably because people in general are more familiar with the New.
Since I was a good boy, I was treated in good American fashion to McDonald's. I got a chocolate milk shake with enough sugar to put a full grown female (I don't know why) rhinoceros into a diabetic coma (at least it's not a gopher). Jose had the McTrio of the day (I only stole 1 fry). It was difficult to be in there for a number of reasons but we left without incident and made our way home. Big wheels keep on turnin'.

Tule a Tule, Periferico, Chedraui, Cinco Senores

We had plans to meet with Sister Norma from the church and go to her house for lunch at 1:00, but early in the morning she called to say that she would have to postpone because something came up. We got up (after that) and now had a clear day ahead of us to do with what we wanted. We decided to make our first solo trip to Chedraui.
Think Wal-mart. We were excited to put together the ingredients for another pizza day, but apprehensive about the process. Our apprehensions arose at the thought of having to navigate the city with arms full of groceries without transportation. Its not a big deal to go to walmart, each of us have been many times, at many times of the day, on many different occasions. But to go without your own car puts a new spin on things. We boarded the bus, the man riding the stairs shouting the various locations the bus would pass (see title).
Our first stop was the Caseta, for a visit with Gerardo and Alma Rosa, and a torta. I opted for a Squirt (its been years). Alma Rosa tells us that tomorrow (Friday) Claudia will be going to the clinic to have her baby. After our lunch is finished we board another bus also to Chedraui.
We get off basically right in front of the store, got our cart, and got out the list. Mozerella, Pepperonis, flour, laundry detergent, toilet paper... the usual. Shopping completed we did our best to combine our bags (both for the strength of the plastic and for ease with which to carry) and headed back out to the bus stop. We were 5 steps late for the first bus to Tule, and so we stood on the curb waiting. Not more than 7 minutes later another bus from Tule whized by. Right by us, I guess our finger wasn't fast enough. 4 more minutes and we are met with another Tule bus that stops nicely infront of us. We board, and are thankful that there are seats open. We get what would be the equivalent to the door seat on an airplane. The seat that should have been infront of us has been removed so we have ample leg room and grocery storage. Our journey home is easy, and nothing spoils in the process.
Suki is glad to see the groceries when we arrive. We do not feed her people food, but the trash can often does.
Everything finds a place of temporary residence, the fruit is washed, and we sit down for a quiet evening of dinner, candles (citronella to keep the mosquitoes at bay) and each other.

Sign-ups for Free Boat Ride

We went to breakfast in Tule with Alberto and Veronica at the Milenario; it's a really nice restaurant with good food. I always learn so much when we are together, especially about food. I always ask about the ingredients and how it is made, and Veronica is great because if she doesn't know then she will ask the waiter or the chef. It if fun to use my Spanish to investigate the culture and learn new words via circumlocution. We talked about another trip later next week to a trout farm where they cook, believe it or not, amazing trout (not that the trout themselves are amazing with super-trout powers (at least that's the interpretation I came up with, though sometimes important details get lost in the mix)). We parted afterward, Veronica had to work, and went home having thoroughly enjoyed, once again, Oaxaca's table.
So I'm doing pretty well; got the push-ups close to 100 in 5 sets. See you do recommended reps for the first 4 sets and then the last is a max rep. Well, my group's reps totaled for something like 52 and my max rep was 39. The push-ups are great because it's not a heavy workout by any means but it is something and is a movement in the right direction. I still don't know what I want from my body now making the transition for college athlete to ??? Obviously I want to be healthy and fit but what that looks like is still up in the air.
Wednesday it rained. Then it stopped. Then I got a call.
It was Soledad; the Bible studies on Wednesday are at her house. She called to ask if we should cancel because the forecast for the evening said it was going to pour something fierce. Since most of the people who attend the study ride public transport and are older adults, I thought it best to take Soledad's advice and wait out the storm for this week. So now that there was no study for the evening, my to do list became quite short, though I did add two things: grow beard, build ark.
I went upstairs and looked out the door to the mountains. There was darkness on the mountains, green light and a strong breeze that didn't really know where to go. This is it. Hand me that 2x4, no, the one with the barking gopher sitting on top.

Muddy Coffee

Zach woke up still feeling jazzed (probably from all that brawn in the movie), and we decided to make a trek to "Cafe a Pan" for a nice cafecito. The coffee shop is probably 3 miles from Tule, so we opted for a nice bike ride. Things were muddy from all the rain the day before, so I had a nice mud stripe up the back of my white shirt by the time we arrived.
I - the non spanish speaking one - asked for a menu and we sat down to decide what we wanted. Zach ordered a Moka (mocha) and I opted for a cappuccino. There was a blonde lady with a cute little boy sitting at a table kind of behind us. She made her way to our table to meet us and ask where we were from. Turns out, she is from California, but living in Oaxaca with her husband and son now. She was very sweet, very Adrienne as well.
This encounter sparked a brief discussion of the previous night's movie and then of other movies we liked and wanted to see. Our journey back was muddy but safe, surprisingly similar to the way out.
Just a few minutes after making it home it started once again to rain, and rained the majority of the rest of the day. We discovered the Serrano's have RCT2 (Roller Coaster Tycoon 2) and took a little journey back to the future (back into the childhood selves who loved the game, and into the future of being grandmaster roller coaster designers).
Another day, another journey, another blog.

Balboa brings brock to Oaxaca

Monday seems like a dull mist on the horizon (the one behind you that you don't see because you are usually looking to the horizon that refers to the future).
There was more rain, more time spent at the house, more fun, but less adventure.
Jose came over in the late afternoon and I made sandwhiches for the guys as we prepared to sit down and have one of the most "American" experiences of my life. My first viewing of Rocky. Zach saw it very fitting to have sandwiches during the movie, since a good ole ham sandwhich with chips is what he calls the "American meal."
We were all pretty pepped after the movie. Zach pumped out his push-ups (we are doing the 100 push ups program) and after he was done Jose asked for Zach to make him a workout that would give him muscles like Zach (okay, that's not exactly what he said, but the gist is there). Jose sat with a pen and paper and Zach began to describe (and sometimes demonstrate) various upper body and lower body lifts. About halfway through the upper body workout Zach was formulating, Jose gave a "Whew" (the kind where someone usually wipes sweat from their brow) and said "okay, you can stop, im tired already." Zach didn't stop, but continued for a good 30 minutes. Needless to say, Jose has more choices of lifts and exercises than he probably wants.
It was late when we finished talking, about working out, eating, life, family, the works. Jose headed home in the rain and we settled in for the night.

Love and Laughter, the best medicine

We got on the bus a bit later than planned, but contrary to the stereotypical "late for an engagement couple fight" our marriage greatly benefited from a really good learning experience, all thanks to a beautiful breakfast fixed by my one and only dear husband. A late bus board still landed us in our seats just as the opening prayer was finishing. Zach helped pass out communion, and then talked during class to the youth group about the symbolism and meaning for our participation in the Lord's Supper. It is neat to see the communication between Zach and the group, even the "i've got to sit slouched a bit and look slightly disengaged" ones really soak up his thoughts. Miguel and Pedro's mom, Lulu, told me after class that Miguel had shared something Zach had said in bible study with her and she was really excited to hear these new words. These brothers and sisters are a very hungry very alive part of our body. Add them and their eager hearts to your prayers every now and then, and say thanks to and for the family and friends you have that teach, challenge, pray for and encourage you.

Thank you to my friends and family (old and new). For your love, support, prayers, gentleness, teaching, guidance, and friendship.

After everyone had gone their separate ways to their respective homes or otherwise, we caught a bus back to Tule for a quiet afternoon in preparation for the movie.

A few hours later we got back on the bus (all different buses up to this point) back into the city for the movie. We had spoken with the movie man right before leaving the church and he said he would pick up "Count of Monte Cristo" that afternoon and bring it. He arrive shortly after we did to the building - empty handed! The video store had rented the movie to someone else. So he and Zach went off in search of the second part of the National Treasure Saga instead. A minute after they left Miguel came with his computer ready to set everything up, and Jose was not too far behind. The three of us set up the projector and the chairs and started washing bowls and cups. We finished all of this and still the movie hunters will still not back. Mike asked Jose what time it was. Jose, fully equip with every time telling device known to post modern man (cellphone and laptop (he also had on a wrist watch)) replies "I don't remember." Oh dear. Mike and I giggle and as you all know once you get me started things just escalate from there. Mike is good at being a funny and punny person. Needless to say that by the time I heard Zach coming up the stairs there were tears streaming down my face. Zach just shook his head (similar to the way that always happens when we are in Cade and Ashton's living room) and sent Mike and I on a quest for popcorn, pop, and... whatever else we wanted. The corner store was closed so we made our way up towards the bus station and bought 9 bags of popcorn, four 3 Liter sodas, and an ice-cream bar for the brave soul who dared go with us (and the only youth groupie who had shown up at that point) The church building doesn't have a microwave, so we had to pop the bags of corn at the store. When Mike was asking the kind lady behind the desk if we could use the microwave she told him we could and to put the bags in for one minute and fifty seconds. Well Mike somehow heard that yes we can use the microwave but it is going to cost one and .50 pesos each. It has been made clear to the lady behind the counter already that I do not speak much spanish as I have turned to Mike to translate the cost of all the goodies we just purchased. So as I am reaching into the bag for more pesos to give the lady, she turns to Mike and says "Do you speak spanish? Not 1.50 pesos, 1:50 minutes!" This part I do understand, and as mike blushes a little bit I laugh. She shakes her head and points me on to the microwave.
We stood for quite a while waiting for all the bags to pop (we didn't put them all in at the same time, though after the third one I did consider the option). As the last bag is cooking Mike gets a sack to carry them back in and loads up. The microwave dings, I grab the last crusader, and we head out the door. Five steps outside of the threshold and the lone ranger I am carrying shrivels up like a pruned kinder-gardener who has spent too long in the kiddie pool at the fourth of July picnic. We laugh the rest of the way to the building at this. (the popcorn not the kinder)
We arrive in the doors and begin passing out drinks and corn when there is a huge commotion out on the street that we just walked up. A bunch of the gathered crowd flies like a flash to the window, throwing open the curtain and pulling back the...wait a minute, no they actually just walked outside and it was only 2 of them. There was a demonstration going on. Apparently a few years ago there was a riot during a protest by some school teachers, and a few of the teachers were killed. This is a parade of sorts with spray paint artist stenciling an abstract picture on the walls of anything and everything they pass. Zach got some pictures that will have to be shared. It was a different sight.
Parade past, we start the movie. There are a few returners from episode one, but a few new comers as well. Everyone enjoyed the movie, which again was a good production, good sound, good quality, good company. Lulu gave us a ride home - sometime we feel so blessed and so spoiled by the love from everyone here. It is neat to have a family away from the family we love and miss. We found at home the puppies happily nestled and asleep, and quickly followed their example.

The Rapido and the Dead

It's been too long; I can't remember Saturday morning though if it were 15 (okay 10 (alright 5)) years ago the answer of course would have been watching cartoons. I do know that we had plans to meet with the youth and throw down some football rapido (basically arena soccer in a very small (homemade) arena). So we arrived on time, believe it or not, and waited for the other; it was sprinkling a bit but that doesn't matter because our court is a covered concrete slab. The others arrived and we assembled the court using table tops as the side walls. The game began.
I am not a good soccer player and I'm sure I'm worse than I think since I'm not exactly certain as to the etiquette of soccer. Chances are I was fouling people left and right, leaving enough on the court for a game of 52 pick-up. There were smiles and goals and sick moves (I took part in the first the other players enjoyed the latter two).
We wore ourselves out, went for some water and called it a night disassembling the arena. We reminded everyone about the movie tomorrow evening, and set off with Jesus Ricardo and Jose to find the ever elusive Count of Monte Cristo at another, closer, rental store. We arrived and alas, arrived to late. They had closed but we were certain there would be sufficient time tomorrow to come by and make the grab. We rounded out to Tule and after a much needed postgame shower, laid to rest my head and my dreams of ever becoming a successful professional soccer player.

No Existe Lechuza???!!!??!!?!

Friday started with the familiar song and dance with relatively little consequential action until the evening study. We met at the church and talked about the life of Jesus. I tried to emphasize the different ways a person can interpret the life of Jesus. King, Prophet, Teacher, Son of God, Son of Man (human), Israel. We talked about various instances in his life where it is abundantly evident that he acted out of these various identities. I think everyone (including myself) really appreciated the study.
Afterward, Mike, Jose, Kimb and I went for tacos at a stand called Lechuza. In trying to determine an appropriate translation for Lechuza we were confronted with the fact that it was a type of owl and that is all we know. Mike became quite concerned during the process as he exclaimed with wide eyed surprise/amazement/incredulity/disbelief, "No existe Lechuza?" I have never seen anyone so concerned about the American existence of a type of owl. He is studying law but with such passion he may involve himself in animal rights over human rights. After assuring him that I was certain they exist (though who who really knows (shameless I know)), we moved on to ordering. We quickly decided that the 2.2 pounds of pork meat would work for the 4 of us (yeah they sell it by the kilo). They gave us a veritable smorgasbord of tortillas and we feasted, and feasted and feasted. Dad, I was wearing those pants of yours from the early 80's (you know narrow leg, striped and tight); well it was tough standing up afterward, it was tough staying put in the seat, it was just difficult to contain myself after 3/4 of a pound of edibles had just entered my internals. They asked the waiter for a gurney and they rolled me out of there into the street.
We wobbled down the road (down hill thankfully), crossing traffic, trying not to get so close to the buses and trucks as to suck them into me by my newly gained gravitational force. In the thousands of years of catholic dominance in this region, I was the victor; I was Critical Mass.
Lulu and Miguel, Jose, Kimb and I loaded into the car and skirted over the mud-drenched road(?) to our house. We said goodbyes and see-you-laters, and squeezed through the 4 foot-wide space of the entry into the house. I made it to bed, trying not to move so as to avoid giving myself a hernia from eating so much.

Sevens

Editor's Note:

It has come to the attention of the editor (and writers) of this periodical that there is a contingency known as the fos (Fans of Snuki) who are causing a fuss. So as to avoid a decrease in readership, we are unable to do otherwise than acquiesce. If the kind reader will stay the course through the first few introductory narratives, his/her sought prize will be realized.

Sincerely,
us

It was a day much like others, sunshine peeking through the window, a blanket of cool air on top of our blanket of warmth and the sudden screeching explosion of fireworks (bottle rockets that would do Texas-big-syndrome proud). I love life.
I got up and went about my daily routine. Clothes. Food (for Snuki). I poured the bits of Kibbles in the blue bowl and looked around but was unable to find the prowling pup; no sign. It was quiet, too quiet. I took a precautionary sweep around the immediate environment and everything was clear, wait, motion sector 9 possible subterranean probe, did that pile of mud just move? Get down!!! Incoming!!! MEDIC!!!!
It was too late the medic wasn't there in time. Thankfully there were no casualties, quiet the opposite really, 6 new lives.


They were all quite healthy and squirmy. I went and got Kimb and the camera. She was looking and ohhhing and ahhhing and I was snapping, clicking and flashing (okay the camera not me). Kimberly sudden perked up and looked around following the wall around to the side yard. I followed and heard it to: a mammalian chirp/squeak/sneeze. There was the tree and behind the tree the nest and inside the nest another little life, cord still attached to the placenta sack. Snuki came over to inspect and Kimb offered her the pup. She (Snuki) sniffed, liked and grabbed the pup in her mouth carting him over to the others (after disconnecting the cord and eating the placenta). All licked up and fed up the pups wiggled around to there spot in the pile and fell silent. Well that event was a lot easier than I thought it could have been.
Note about how God can change plans. We were going to go to the coast this week. We decided to wait instead until the coast is clear. During this week the puppies were born, no big deal we didn't really help in that process but the tree pup. Snuki might have gone back for him, but it seemed like quiet a bit of time had passed since the relocation of the others and that he might have been left. We are glad to have missed the beach and been able to rejoin this pup with the rest. Plus it rained, a lot.
We cleared a space in the bathroom, for them, food and water for Snuki and a couple of towels for the pups. Now they are Seven.
Aaron and Emmy don't worry we've already named them. Let's see.... there's Doc, Sneezy, Sleepy, Grumpy, Happy, Dopey, and Bashful. Not really, I'm sure they can't wait to see you guys (when they realize they can open their eyes).

We didn't really have any other plans for the evening so we spent time with the pups, dined, watched some X-Men, groceries in Tule, and wondered what else our time here would hold for us.

CODENAME: SNUKI

Welcome to the Jungle (Snuki's Playground)

Today was the day (Wednesday). Mano y Mano. Man vs. Machine. Me and the Whacker. I was going to string that puppy if it was the last thing I did today. I got online. I downloaded a pdf of the instruction manual for this model. And I got a tool. Tools are incredible; what I was unable to do with my own hands at phasers set to kill, I was able to do with stun strength. I happily removed the bumper knob and commenced to inspect the interior winding apparatus (or spool according to the manual). I prepped for battle, armed with whacking line (neon green), scissors, the machine + parts and the manual. I watched youtube instructional videos, read the instructions for double and single line threading. I tried the double. My intellect failed me at step 8. Then I found my salvation in the black pitch of the tumultuous battle, a ray of hope bursting through the clouds, a beacon of deliverance on line 4, paragraph 5, page 12. "Double line weedeaters can employ the single line threading technique." My resolve increased; I set my face toward the single line technique, heart pounding with anticipation at the end of the battle and the end of the war, much like Aragorn at the Black Gates when Sauron's tower fell. I began the technique, began again and once more, finally, reattaching the inner spool with spring and bolting the bumper knob in place. Having reforged the shards of Narsil naming it anew Anduril, I walked outside and faced the Death Marshes of the backyard.
A liter of gas, 30 feet of line and 2.5 hours later it is finished, the battle is over. Victory is mine (for now).
Snuki loved it. She had a whole yard to roam and sniff and... She spent a good while just touring the newly regained territory. She rolled and kicked the grass up, marked it as hers and made little brown monuments all over as a sort of victory expo.
Marina and I prepared (okay I watched and wrote down the recipe) entomatadas. We feasted; it was delicious. We chilled until Bible study time.
It was during this chill time that I heard about the chaos in the city (not really chaos but definitely unrest). Jose called and told me about an interview he had given at a bus stop to a reporter and a camera man (he made the news that night). The topic was the increase in the bus tariff. The price had gone from 4.5 pesos to 7 pesos. This is the transportation of the majority of the people particularly the lower economic class (of which Kimb and I are very much a part). There were blockades of most major intersections in the city as a protest, no violence but definitely a clear message. The bus company raised the rate without approval of the government. So come time to leave Kimb and I got a taxi and paid 50 pesos to go to the park close to Soledad's house where the Bible study is. Normally it would only cost us 16 pesos but because of the blockades, it was a longer trip, and he took us directly without picking up anyone else. Dropping us off, he offered to take us back for the same price, but I told him we didn't know when exactly we would be done and ready to return, so we parted and went to the study.
Esperanza, abuelita and Soledad were there, the others couldn't make it because of the unrest. We sang a few songs and I shared the story of Peter that I had given last summer to the youth at the coffee shop. It was really encouraging to help them see parts of scripture as a story with human beings and emotions, relationships, moments of doubt and hurt, of faith and confidence. Peter's story has it all. It is by far my favorite to share.
We parted afterward and took to the streets. I had no idea the condition of the transportation. It was close to 9 when the buses stop running, and with the protest I didn't know how many taxis would be available for Tule. So I stopped the first taxi I saw. He said 100 pesos to Tule, I offered 70, he stood firm. I took it. Better to be home in Tule than stranded over night in the city. This type of taxi is normally more expensive anyway because it is a direct route taxi much more similar to those in the States. The others run routes similar to the buses and stop to pickup more people. Of course, we pass the place we normally get on a bus and there was one for Tule. Even with the price jack we could have paid 14 pesos instead of 100, but he got there much faster than the bus would have.
So at the end of the day, we were $12 shorter than before, but Snuki had a playground, we had a Bible study and a place to lay our heads.

Tuesday's with _______.

We stayed home. It rained. We drank copious amounts of coffee. (You're welcome (I know your poor bloggled eyes are thanking me)).

Swingers, Showers, Show-offs and Sweetness

It's Monday (not really but just play along) and that means: Fronton. We didn't know if we would be able to go to play because we might have need to spend the day gathering supplies for the forth coming coast trip, but we decided to go anyway because there was a shadow of a doubt about our trip (for the dimensions of this shadow think about a cloud spanning from the Yucatan peninsula to the west coast of Mexico that would cast a shadow (and rain) for 100's of miles and essentially donate a weeks worth of rain to our getaway spot). Fronton it is.
We missed Alberto but Jose was still there so we got our warm-up in our usual spot and waited our turn on the court. Swingers.
Enter Alejandro, guy says he met Jose once before here at the courts, Jose doesn't remember but seems like a nice enough guy and besides Mike was going to come around 12:30. Show-off.
We finally got on the court and were going to play a couple of games just for fun and exercise, however with the racket and ball in the hands of Lefty (Alej) it was show time. Unfortunately you have met the type and I am not one to stereotype because I have dreadlocks and have never smoked anything illegal, but you know this guy. He's not very good, but an expert on the game, ready to give instruction to anyone who misses a shot; he doesn't put forth any effort to make a shot that requires movement, if it doesn't come directly to him for a kill shot you were supposed to get it. Any shot he takes must be the epitome of professional level difficulty (where, more than likely, you will miss costing your team 10 points (and the game goes by 1's to 15)). And finally the most ultimate example, playing in the back he shots a rocket toward the front wall hitting Jose in the cheek/eye region (his teammate at the time). What does he do at this point? He hustles (okay I'll give him that) over to tell Jose how to properly hold the racket when playing in front so he does get hit in the eye, while Jose is waiting to regain his vision. Classic! I couldn't believe this guy, if I hadn't known others like him in the States then I would have thought he was an anomaly of Mexico. I switched to play with Pa-cha so Jose could have a break and maybe enjoy playing for a bit; after a bit more effortless play by Wonder-Bro he had to leave asking us if we would be back tomorrow. I said that would be highly unlikely. Miguel never showed. It started to rain. Shower.
We went to the caseta.
Gerardo and Alma Rosa were there; we were hoping to give Claudia the baby hat Kimb had crocheted but she wouldn't be back until after her baby came, so we entrusted it into the care of the Bosses. We talked Mexican breakfast since this morning Marina had taught me how to make enfrijoladas. We parted in the rain and headed for Esperanza's restaurant for a late lunch.
Gourmet food as always, and Kimb was in desperate need of a journal; she was about to finish the one she was writing in and panic mode was becoming an option. I can somewhat understand because she has been keeping a journal since she was 11. Telling Jose we needed to go get one he kept saying, "I have a gift." Well, when dessert came (hot pancakes with cream) Kimb got a new journal from Jose. It is beautiful leather, with a Bible verse at the bottom of every page. She was very grateful.
We split up after lunch and Kimb and I found paradise. You see, there was a reason Jesus said I am the bread of life, not the rock, not the coat, not the sky, but bread. We found the bakery San Fransisco and it was the joint. Doughnuts fresh, sweetbread fresh, sweetbread with cream fresh, chocolate cover muffin fresh. Sweetness.
Why don't we have such bakeries in every city in the world?!?!?!
We bagged some paradise, caught a bus home, ate pizza (homemade of course by my wonderful wife), played games watched X-Men, Did Our First Set of Push Ups in the 100pushup workout, and eventually went to sleep thinking about the beach.

Sunday Sermon

Taxi. Church. We thought about having the group over for pizza but we hadn't been able to go to the grocery store, besides, there was something else on the menu that Jose had mentioned yesterday. Amor (one of the sisters from the church), wanted to speak to the jovenes group after church. In class we sang songs with the adolescentes, it went okay; it's hard to remember the old tunes with Spanish words.
For whatever reason, I felt strange and apprehensive about this little event. I had no idea what she was going to talk about and I felt as a sort of guardian for the group, like whatever they hear about Scripture should be passed by me first (oh boy my first power trip!). Amor shared some of her story. It was powerful, the whole emphasis being an encouragement to pray more often with each, get together and praise more often, be more intimately involved in one another's spiritual walk. I sat down and shut up. Internally I was so embarrassed at the unfounded skepticism and sense of authority I had felt toward this time. I am shamed by the humility of my sister baring her heart and sharing some of the struggles of her life in order to speak to a group that she knows better than I do. What an incredible and uncomfortable lesson to learn.
We made it home and had plans to go for coffee with our neighbors, Gerardo and Bella Sara. I took a nap. We walked down the mud road to their house where they both greeted us. We sat down in the living room to chat with Bella Sara while Gerardo finished up a few things. We got a quick tour of the house and got in the truck to make a run. We talked about lots of things, our future plans, how we met, our interests, our time in Oaxaca. They took us to an overlook of the city up on the side of a mountain next to the road. The sun was setting and the city was waking up, lights coming on illuminating the network of veins and arteries. We stopped at the Italian Coffee Company (a branch very similar to Starbucks), and got a table outside. We ordered and chatted more. I asked about their work and they shared. Like all good Mexican evening outings, it ended with one final stop: the taco stand. We ate 8 tacos (5 and 3 off course) arracheras, grilled to perfection, salted with lime, chilled with guacamole and flamed with picante. It was delicious even if it was one and half too many.
The drive back was interesting and probably the most important. We continued talking about this and that, but they could get over how young we were. They asked us to guess their age and we both said late 20's. Gerardo is in his early thirties and Bella Sara in her late thirties. I couldn't believe it, they look much younger and have (what us young people would call) a youthful swagger (or manner) about them. They asked us how many kids we wanted to have and Kimb said 5, I just agreed. They opened to us how they weren't able to have kids but had thought about adopting. Bella Sara asked about God's role in all of this both with her not being able to have kids and the prospect of adoption. I tried to emphasize that God knows more than we do and has a perfect timing to events and plans (as we will see in later posts), we must trust and work where we are and with what we have. I also tried to encourage them with the perspective of sharing the good things they have in life. They are a couple who love each other, have a beautiful home, good jobs and a puppy that is full of energy. Could it be a wonderful thing for a child who had none of these things to be blessed with a family who does and who would more importantly love and provide for them consistently? It was just some thoughts and perspectives for them that Kimb and I share, and I could tell Bella Sara was grateful and would take them to heart in consideration. We said goodbye, having had a wonderful time, with promises to do it again soon.

Count this Treasure a Bugs Life

WAIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


There is a new post right below this!!!!!!



I keep dreaming weird things. Sometimes I can associate a dream with some occurring of the day or with some reoccurring theme in life, but there are also those dreams that just seems like they have nothing to do with anything, and are just plain weird. Lucky for you those can be shared another time. The two of interest here fall into the "reoccurring theme" category. For a few nights in a row I have been dreaming about bugs. I would like to consider myself well adapted to the insectial and arachnoid creatures we share an earth with. And maybe my family would disagree, but I don't tend to worry excessively about bugs in the house or having to shake spiders out of your shoes. I would consider myself to have an "ignore and be ignored" relationship with most multi-legged creatures of infantile size. I don't particularly like to be crawled on, jumped on, bitten, or met with the unmistakable crunch of demolished exoskeleton (but these aren't all distastes unique to just bugs (actually only the exoskeleton crunch would be unique to bugs)). But I dont tend to overreact (purposefully relative) if said occurrences, well, occur. Life here is quite a bit more buggy than most of my daily existence has been, and yet I find that there are really only two bugs I would greatly prefer to do without. Enter Don Roach and Mosquito. Now in my dreams things tend to be much larger than life, I can't run or walk or move without feeling that laden by concrete feeling, and all vocal abilities seem to have escaped me. These dreams have been no different. In the first, I am at this Oaxacan house, alone, when a roach the size of a small dog starts to run across the hall towards our bedroom. In the second, there are giant mosquitos wearing my tennisshoes preventing me from escaping the house. What a relief that these are just dreams - or are they?

Zach is really quite adept at planning fun activities for the groups here. The only problem we seem to have to hurdle are spreading interest to a wider population, and starting things on time. Zach has been wanting to watch "The Count of Monte Cristo" again for quite some time, and thus planned a movie night for the youth and college group. We left the house around 1ish to meet Jose at the church building so that we could make sure the projector would work and still have plenty of time to go in search of the movie. Jose arrived shortly after we did, and we figured out (in a round about way) that Jose's cousin could take us to blockbuster (where he had a membership) so that we could rent the movie (which would be in English with Spanish subtitles (in case you were wondering)). The projector plugged in and turned on fine, so we locked the building back up and headed to meet cousin. Via bus we arrive on the other side of town where Blockbuster is. Movies from the United States are very popular here, but are often given a different, more Spanish name. I found it was easier to try and recognize movie box covers than go by name, and so we started browsing. Thankfully things were somewhat organized, by genre, so we assumed our search wouldn't be to difficult. After a little while with no luck Zach decided to just have the guy at the front desk look up the movie in the computer. Fool proof. And the results, Blockbuster doesn't have the movie. A wave of disappointment was soon washed over by the need (pressed by time) to look for another selection. We browsed a few, weighed our options, tried to remember ratings, and finally settled on National Treasure. Those of you who have seen Nicholas Cage bring American history into a new light are probably nodding your heads in approval. Good choice right? Our only apprehension was the American national history wouldn't be as intriguing to the adolescents from Oaxaca as it was to us. But we decided to go for it anyway. We made a quick stop into the Soriana for some Skittles and Crunch, and then took a taxi back to the building. By this time it was only moments before Miguel would meet us with his computer (which would play the DVD (country disc encryption prevented Zach from using his old faithful). Miguel came, Jose left, Jose came back (with a torta (he was starving)). The movie worked, his computer hooked up nicely with the projector. Speed bump, the speakers weren't working. Jose, having finished his torta, fixes the speaker problem. Now we wait for the kids to start arriving. Only 20 minutes after our proposed start time the first one arrives. followed shortly thereafter by another, and then half an hour later by a few more. This is normal - culturally and everything. Zach and a few of the kids headed down the block for some refresco (Coke, Sprite, Fresca, and Lift (apple flavored soda)) and popcorn. A little while later they arrive back and we divy up the popcorn and pour drinks and start the movie. Before the movie was over there were 13 of us total. Not a bad turn out at all! Everyone said they really liked the movie, the projector worked great, everything tasted good, sounded good, felt good. It really turned out to be a good movie night.
After everyone had left we locked up the gate and headed to Miguel and Jose's grandma's house where Lulu was waiting to take us back to Tule. With the left over drinks in the trunk we made our way back to the house. As we were driving through Tule we noticed quite the affair going on in town. A fair in deed. After dropping off the drinks Zach and I decided to walk back into town knowing we wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. The fair is a Santa Maria of Tule celebration. An annual thing. We happened to come on the second night (of 7) There were all the different carnival rides and games you can think of set up around downtown - much like a fall festival - minus the fall (although it does feel kind of like fall here in the evenings). We walked past a huge scaffolding of fireworks and learned they were to be set off at 11 (only an hour from then). The bumper cars caught and held our attention for a little while. Zach drove, I got whiplash. We also observed a trampoline attraction where you are strapped in with a harness that has tension cables attached to it allowing you to fling way up in the air and do flips and stuff. We watched men dance around with paper mache cows that were shooting off fireworks on their heads, and then saw the huge fireworks. It was a loud and rowdy festival. Much laughter and many smiles, and with ringing ears we fell asleep.

What I learned on the Mountain

It's Friday; that means it's time to try again. Jose meets us at the house at 8 and we set off after coffee around 8:30. Familiar path to the base of the mountain. On the way I told Jose that I would like for him to correct me on every speaking error I made. He said to do likewise with his English. Then we stopped talking. Laughed. Then learned how better to use reflexives. We arrived with and searched out the path ahead. It seemed that a fence line ran straight up the mountain, while it did not have room enough for switchbacks it seemed to be the least dense in the foliage department. We made our way to the fence, through the fence and along the fence; until there was no fence. It had been a pretty good jaunt by this point and the terrain became steep; not that we were making our ascent at this point, but trying to make it to the mountain we would brave. At this point Kimberly opted to stay at base camp. It had been a tough row so far and the going was going, straight up. Jose opted to go his own way for a stretch as I advanced hugging the side of steepness. Kimberly positioned herself were we would be able to see each other for most of the ascent.
All I had going for me was that the plant life was no more than chest high; to describe the rest, everything was soaking wet, many barbed plants, bugs, gnats, stumps, rocks with loose morals, slippery slopes, mud and slick sticks. And sea shells? More on that later.
After a 15 minute jaunt forward into the wild, crossing a number of what could have only been the southern rear cleavage of the hills traversed, I heard a distant shout. Jose.
After doing a cross between George of the Jungle and the T-Rex off of Jurassic Park, Jose joined me on the South Butt (for all of you North Face fans) of the hill. We had at last come to the foot.
It's strange that one trip can have so many beginnings for here it was truly the beginning of our purpose: to reach the top. The going was difficult. I set myself to carry the camera (a personal rule) and toilet paper (in case their was toil to be let (see what I did there?)). Periodically my socks worked their way down my foot. This happened many times before reaching this point in the trip and I would like to provide further proof and evidence of the level of commitment Kimb and I share in our marriage for it was she who requested (after shoe and sock had run far away from anything resembling dry) that we trade socks since hers were longer. We did and I love her for it; nothing like trading wet socks to say, "I love you." And I know she does. Alas it was to no physical avail, however the sock itself provided better arch-support than my old shoes did (always a positive side). We climbed up and up, slipping, grabbing, being grabbed by bug and thorns. Every so often I would steady myself and turn to find Kimb, yelling or whistling to see if she was okay; she remained so. Jose and I walked together and my mind became occupied with the important and difficult task at hand. I studied my movements and decisions, thinking about terrain, nature and the path ahead. Brains have a funny way of making connections because this journey like many others experienced by many other people before became a metaphor for life. And I told Jose as much:

When you are falling backward making your ascent try grabbing the green lush plants that stick up. They will probably snap or give way because they are young and weak. Look to the root and find the old brown, woody stem; he is more likely to hold his ground and sustain you in your moment of need and desperation. There is much to be said for maturity and fast roots.

No matter how remote the location a path lay before us. It is often wise to follow the path, making the trail easier. No matter how difficult the situation and unlikely the circumstance you can find evidences of people that have gone along before you. Trust that, utilize that and leave a path behind you.

Be careful who you follow and how closely you follow them. An accidental slip or loose rock can cause unspeakable and irreparable damage. Always beware.

It is not so important to stay in the middle of the path. Sometimes the left is better than the right and vice versa. Don't be afraid to walk on the periphery utilize the best of both to make your path smooth and reasonable.

It doesn't take much distraction to slip and fall.

How far am I willing to go? When will I say here and no further? At what point will I stop giving? Why not the top? What reason is so justifiable as to renegotiate the terms of your primary and motivating goal? I say there is none.

I think about those in life who are near the summit almost there, their previous trial being unspeakable, the pains forgotten just by sheer numerical overload, yet here they stand mere paces from the top and they are eager to arrive; they look back down at the young ones with many emotions felt toward them as they know the journey ahead of the young one that the young one himself could not possibly know or predict. There will be difficulty, pain, frustration and despair. Yet with an encouraging shout down to those who would follow the old one bravely, with a new vigor in step press on and finish the task, scrambling headlong into the unknown of the top of the mountain catching a first glimpse of the mystery that is on the other side of the mountain.

To arrive is to be truly alive.

Jose and I arrived safely; we were able to peer over to the other side and see more mountains covered in green and white as the clouds neatly and fully crowned their crowns. It was nothing I hadn't seen before but I was seeing it as I never had before. How we see seems to be just as or more important than what we see. We rejoiced and took pictures, we prayed thanksgiving for safety thus far and for future safety in the descent. Then we took to the descent.
Kimberly had all but vanished; I could clearly see the spot where she was but could see nothing more than a white dot being her body enshrouded in my long sleeve shirt (no doubt protection from the local wildlife). The descent was perilous, too perilous (even for Sir Galahad), and to compound the issue, our legs were weak and supporting muscles badly in need of support. To lean forward was to embrace the end of the destination, forever. We slid and fell much; a stump found my forearm and gave me a good scrape and another caught my bum leaving a colorful tattoo that said something like "Look busy....." I found two shells that looked like they belonged to hermit crabs and successfully carried them down to safety. On further and secondary inspection I believe there may have been a healthy snail in residence though he had since moved out.
This ascent and subsequent descent total for the longest amount of time on this trip that Kimb and I had been a part. I desperately wanted to be with her, walk next to her and share the same space. It was a wonderful motivation to persevere and do so with diligence, confidence and caution. We made it and I kissed Kimberly. It is such a wonderful thing in life to have someone to kiss.
It was at this point, on the way back, that I realized it was Friday, Marina had come to clean the house and I had forgotten to leave the money out for her (because we pay her on Fridays). It was already 1 o'clock. We set a quick pace with hopes of encountering a taxi. Many we encountered but none cared to give us a ride or a look, one gave us a finger (not really, but it felt like it). So we continued on; I had a thought that God can certainly work it out to where I could call Marina and find her so I could give her the money, or that by some miracle she would still be at the house, plus previously I had told her I wanted to learn to make enfrijoladas and we were supposed to do that today. Ahhh, I got worked up there for a second, but finally I just let go, realizing things were beyond my control, and just set myself to making it home. And we did just that.
And Marina was still there. Life is wonderful. Warm bath, sandwiches, chilled, was introduced to the do lectures. Note: I highly recommend the do lectures; look up the website and listen to a few of the speakers. I have not listened to many yet, but I would definitely recommend that you listen to Alastair Humphries. Go to http://www.dolectures.com/ and click on the picture of the guy in the top right corner (Alastair) and then click play on the video screen directly above it and enjoy an inspiration to do life.
Isidro came later that evening and we (Jose and I) joined for the Friday night Bible study. It went well as we passed through a general study of NT. It's kind of funny in that one of them will read a paragraph of information from the study then pause, look at me and ask, "commentarios?" giving me the opportunity to go on a brief biblical rant about this or that throwing in the soup much of my Bible knowledge and some of the teachings of my esteemed professor's from Harding (particulary, Kyle Holton, Dale Manor, John Fortner and Scott Adair). The evening ended and Kimberly and I settled in to watch some X-Men and fall asleep. I thank God for that day.

Dia de Descanso, Diluvio, Decadence

Tuesday: dia de descanso (day of rest), some errands in Tule (40 liter bike transport + salsa).

Wednesday: emails galore, rained, got on the bus it was "Chipi, Chipi" (sprinkling). As soon as we got off of the bus Noah floated by. I've never seen rain like this in Oaxaca. Oddly enough our umbrella kept us dry from the mid-thigh up. The best part was definitely the trek from the road to our house in the dark with anywhere from 2" to 8" of mud. The study was good. Few were there because of the rain but we sang some and Kimb and I were able to share a couple of songs in english. It was a really uplifting time even though they wanted to talk about what sin is and does. Before I ironed everything out for them I listened a lot and was convicted more than I expected. We had hotdogs in a tomato and jalapeno sauce on a tostada. I slept well.

Thursday: we met Jose to go on a mission past the zocalo. It was a photo reconnaissance; failed (store wasn't open) but I did buy a poncho. We arranged to meet at Gerardo's house later that night with the family. By the bye, we had an extravagant breakfast with Esperanza at her restaurant. Memelas with papas con chorizo y quesillo plus eggs and champurrado (a corn water chocolate drink). We split up to meet Pedro at a restaurant in Tule La Sonora. We arrived and it was a rocking place in part because it was the Dia de los taxistas (taxi driver day). We order a parilla (grill) and received a small grill with hot coals and platter filled with a sorts of grilled meats (this was after porkrinds with tostadas, bean, guac, pico de gallo, salsa, and onion bulbs submerged in lemon juice). The host gave me a shot of mezcal to start and we went on engorging ourselves exploring the very limits of mass coexistence boarding on the collapse of all matter into a wormhole that would destroy the universe by setting time in reverse (a part of me (being the larger part) still prays that a wormhole would appear inside me and clean me out). We made it to Gerardo's were we further satiated what could no longer be described as hunger or thirst, with coffee, refresco and another tostada (and did I mention the hot rice pudding?). All this food came within a 9 hour window. A fast may be on the menu for the weekend. We are returned all but clean and asleep.

Morning Breath

Why is it that one can shower and brush the teeth immediately before entering a cocoon of slumber, and yet still wake up with morning breath fit only for the queen of the dead?!? Apparently this is simply one of those "facts of life." Everyone has it, the elephant breath wake up call.

We brushed our teeth.

And headed out the door rackets in hand to play fronton. En route to the bus Zach looked over at me, an almost sorrowful concern in his eyes, and said - "I wish my armpits would stop waking up with morning breath." Its a hard life.

Once we made it to the courts we warmed up a little and waited for the squeegy experts to finish sweeping the rain off the court. Somehow we managed to stake a claim on the court, although there were other people standing around. And once it was dry enough to perhaps be relatively certain we would not face certain death (by slipping), we started getting a feel for things. Jose and Zach decided they would play against Alberto and I. We had no sooner determined these teams, when Jose sent a ball whizzing straight towards Zachs head. Somehow, by means unknown to me, the ball missed his skull and sent his heart racing. "Play ball." (Alberto's second favorite phrase of the day) We had some pretty decent runs with 7 or 8 hits back and forth between teams. I managed to play defense fairly well, by always finding myself right in the line of where the ball was flying and where either Zach or Jose was running to come hit it. There were only a few minor collisons with no sustained injuries. At one point Jose hit a whiz-banger straight into Zach's left calf, and a few plays later, another one right into Alberto's right kidney. Not very long after that he hit one clear out of the park - over the 45 foot wall into the cemetery next door. We had two back ups waiting so play wasn't stopped for long. Im not sure who won. But after maybe an hour Jose and I rotated out so that Zach and Alberto could play with some guys who had been standing on the out-of-bounds line obviously eager for their turns. These gentlemen were older. One was a spitting image of Dr. Hopper, and I knew if looks were a cue then this would be a fun round.
While the game got started Jose and I decided to go hunting for the lost ball over the fence. Before things got too interesting. We made our way back out to the parking lot, around the mosquito lake that has been fermenting for quite some time, and to the 12 foot rock wall. In some places there were shards of broken glass sticking out of the wall (which was maybe 8 inches thick) to deter kids like us from jumping into the graveyard probably. We found a patch of the wall where we were relatively sure there wasn't any glass, and by a good stroke of luck, a shorter wall to step up onto for a boost up. Jose went over first and told me "This isn't a good place, you should stay here and wait for me" I kicked my way up the wall and perched myself on top to await his return. Just a few minutes later he emerged from out of the forest (of trees, grass, weeds and tombstones) victorious. The lost yellow ball was safe in his hand. He looked up at me, handed me the ball - which I took as my signal to jump down out of the way. My feet had barely touched the ground when Jose called out "HELP!" I hurried back up and saw him sort of climbing, sort of crouched, desperately clinging to the wall. I reached out for his hand and pulled him up to where he could get a better foothold and his other hand on the top of the wall. He made it the rest of the way just fine. By this time Zach and Alberto had begun quite the fight against their new opponents. As Jose and I came back within sight of the court the ball Alberto had just hit came sailing towards us and landed on the roof that is over the bleacher like seating just outside the courts. They motioned for us to see if it would bounce down on the other side. We watched and waited and it didn't. I walked towards the makeshift ladder (it is really just a steel support beam with 4 inch pegs sticking out of it (like a telephone pole)) and put my head below one of the pegs to look around the beam and ask if they wanted me to climb up and get it. I found out they didn't and drew my head back and somehow landed the little cleft at the bottom of my right temple directly - full force - into one of the pegs. There was a weird crunching sound (my teeth clamping together - thankfully my tongue was nesteled safely inside away from them) and then a searing pain shot out of my temple bringing that stinging feeling to my nose, the hot feeling in the back of my throat, and tears to my eyes. Its a good thing they didn't want me to climb. I brought my hand to the side of my head to make sure there wasn't any blood (there wasn't) and just backed away slowly - so as not to bonk into anything else. You see, this is actually my second time to hit my head since being here in Mexico. The first time we were walking down the sidewalk, and I ran face first right into a little electrical meter box. My forehead's first thought was "OWWW!!!" followed closely by "why would anyone put that at eye level" followed shortly by the realization that actually eye level for me was well above the heads of most everyone else and out even out of reach for some. Circle back to fronton now. I walked back onto the court and sat down for a drink. Nothing in my head is broken - at least nothing that is visible. ;) There is a pretty colorful little bruise and it is still really tender to any touch. The ball was recovered - Jose climbed up to get it, and after coming back down to sit by me he told me "I think I might just do more climbing than playing today."
Alberto and Zach won one game and lost another. Then Dr. Hopper's look alike wore out and a younger fellow stepped in. Alberto bowed out so that Jose could have another round. After Jose managed to launch two balls (one practically to the moon and into the cemetery, the other right on top of the concrete wall balanced perfectly in front of the chain link (that goes up even higher to keep more balls inside) out of play, we called it good for the day and headed out. We stopped by the caseta (post workout replacement for those boys) and then walked to the Llano to check out the possibility of tickets for a show at the live theater. Jose headed home and we caught our bus to Tule.
Upon returning, quite ready for a good shower, we discovered that the water tank was empty and showers would have to wait until after 9 or 10 when we could turn the pump on. My digestive tract was feeling a bit uneasy (it has since Saturday - felt kind of upset - up high approximately where the large and stomach might be located) so I opted for a nap. We rested and much later cooked some tasahoe for dinner. After blogging we turned on the pump and then were able to shower and got all tucked in.