Pygmies y La Santa Biblia

Update Codename: SNUKI
Yesterday (the day of the Guelaguetza) we had the doors open in the house and a peace offering crossed our threshold. With large unassuming eyes and the gait of a church mouse entered the notorious wing-thief. She casually meandered until we firmly asked her to go outside. Minutes later the same dance appeared and exited to the same music. Little did I understand the craftiness of her infiltration, as she had manage to trespass and even claim a small beachhead just inside the side door. A small step but one I know could lead dastardly deed of daring do. More to follow...

The day began with the late rising of the sun (or maybe we were late), and Marina the housekeeper for the Serranos came. I stepped out of our room to meet her and found myself standing in wet. I followed this trail of wet to the bathroom, to the sink with the broken pipe, to the sink with the broken pipe that was running water down the drain and into the floor. I almost panicked. I knew it hadn't been on for long because I had left our room earlier that morning and there was no water, but knowledge is nothing when your cup runneth over into someone else's floor. I turned the knob to know avail, I emptied the bucket in the shower and replaced it to catch more water, but still the current is strong, finally I kneel before Marina and beg her help, she calmly fords the river (while I with my Indian guide choose to caulk and float), approaches the sink and turns the knob ever so slightly toward the on position cutting off the flow and saving all insect life that lives on the bathroom floor as we know. Nothing says good morning like trying to decide whether to barricade yourself with in your room or try and build an ark with your heart-rate jumps to 215.
Marina is a wonderful cook as I remember from last year, and I wanted to learn something of her cuisine if only the basics, so I asked if she would show me how to prepare Juevos Mexicanos. She was happy to do so, and I was happy it was so simple: onion, tomatoes, jalapeno, salt and eggs. With tortillas and salsa it is a breakfast favorite.
After our morning ritual of email checking and blog writing, we decided it would be kind for her and good for us to take a walk down to Tule with SNUKI, besides we had a couple of errands to run: delivering a ladder and some magazines to a neighbor and mail a postcard. We made our deliveries with no problems and walked around the plaza. Many vendors were our with their wares on display, and while we were passing a particularly eclectic shop we were ambushed by three natives, pygmies perhaps by their sizes, who danced death around SNUKI. Bursting with anxious hesitation yet overcome by curiosity, their little hands would reach out to touch the quivering mat of curls. On contact they would jerk back with exultation of delight calling to more of their clan to come behold their courage. Another approached fear pale in his eyes as he tentatively asked the sky, "Muerde?" (Does it bite) With a nod of assurance that it does not bite (that we know of) from the sky people (that's us), he leaped with a determined ferocity to pat the crown of the now deified SNUKI. Lifting her nose to examine her worshiper, set him reeling backward falling with a mixture of honor to be deemed worthy as a sacrifice to the pagan goddess teeth but grateful for having escaped a painfully slow and no doubt halitonical death (from the derivative halitosis). Alas, it was time for the great goddess to move on, but following in the example of all good leaders of nations when the meet a new God the chief crouched and asked of the sky people, "Como se llama?" I stepped forward with this pagan deity on a leash and proclaimed to the people, "SNUKI, se llama SNUKI!" and they bowed low to the ground with fear and trembling....... actually they just waved and yelled see you tomorrow.
We wheeled around to the house where I settled in to a book and Kimberly wrote in her journal. We had a late lunch and spent time tooling around the house, Kimberly instructing me on a few of the quirks the house of which I was still unaware.
Leti had taught me how to wash and prepare vegetables so as to not receive Montezuma's Revenge by consuming them. It was 2 hours until we were to be picked up to go to bible study at this point, so I set into my task, knowing it would take a bit of time. I washed out the sink - scrubbing with soap - first, and then filled the shining basin with tap water. (this seems counter productive, when the water from the tap is the very source of the problem) But nevertheless I followed my instructions. A cap full of bleach was added to the water, as well as some drops from the tiny dropper perched by the window. I mixed this around with my hand, rinsed any dirt or large particles from the lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, cucumber, broccoli, apples, and grapes (in the other half of the sink) and then set them into their soak bath. The water covered everything nicely. About 30 minutes later I took everything out, rinsed (with drinking water this time) and patted them dry. I then stored the treasures away in the refrigerator. More journal-ing, more reading. Then it was 10 minutes until we were to be picked up. I changed my clothes and freshened up, and again picked up my journal to wait a few minutes for our ride to come.
Flor and her husband are relatively new to the church. They host a small bible study at their home on Monday nights. (this week it was moved to Tuesday so that Zach and I wouldn't have to miss out because of the Guelaguetza) The study starts at 8, but since neither of us had a clue as to where we were going, Flor said that she would pick us up at the Serrano's house at 7:30. At 7:50 we hear a car pull up and someone whistle. Zach hops up to see about it (it is pretty dark at this point) It is a worker who is helping with the neighbors yard. He needs the neighbors number - which we dont have. We settle down, Zach buries his nose back in Pi, I sit slightly on the edge of the couch, minutely concerned that something has happened to sweet Flor. 7:57, another whistle. Zach again hops up this time to find that the worker wants to unload the wood and tools he has for the neighbor in our yard and then pick them up in the morning. Zach helps, I hold Snuki on the leash so that she won't get out or get into too much business. She is excited to have activity going on, but I pet her and she calms down. It is 8:10 the Mexican phone rings. Flor is calling to say she is on her way. Phew, I had begun to think we would have to go looking for her. And that would have been quite a daunting task considering we have no idea where she was coming from. It is true what I learned in Missionary Anthropology - my sense of time is much different than many places in the world. Flor comes and we manage to convince Snuki to stay although she desperately wants to come too. Flor speaks wonderful English, but I encourage her to speak Spanish so I can learn. Her husband, Miguel and Pedro are waiting for us when we arrive. We sit down to a study from Hebrews about following the shepherds and leaders of the church and respecting them for all the work they do. (I know this because Zach and I reviewed the lesson earlier in English) We (by we I mean they) finish up discussion and Flor tells us she would like us to stay for Coffee and treats - some kind of bread she wants to fix. We sit around the table while she prepares it. I can catch a lot of the conversation, and can hear improvement even in the few days I have been here. I opt not to try out any Spanish though. But rather settle into listening. Flor makes a really tasty bread - it is kind of like a croissant with quesillo and ham inside. She calls it pasta I think. Her two sons join us and as a group we eat 6 mini loaves. There is also a sweet bread and some lemon wafers to enjoy. We talk and laugh, and I am told I should visit Monte Alban before I leave Oaxaca. It is a site of ruins that is very famous in this area. Only 40 minutes from here. Flor pulls out some encyclopedia type books with pictures that are all about Oaxaca and the culture and the history. I look through them and the boys venture into the other room to play FIFA. Flor and I talk (in English now) about her life and her studies and her family. She is a really beautiful really neat lady. After a while we get back in the car so that they can take us home. When we get back it is almost 1:00 AM, Zach tells me he got pummeled at the video game and feels much less Mexican and slightly less masculine. Time for some rest.

Update: Codename SNUKI
Upon arriving home, the gate was ajar and SNUKI was gone. More as the story develops...