From Xico

Four years later in Xico, Veracruz

When we first arrived here to live, time flowed in a leisurely fashion, revealing, at a measured pace, the changes of the seasons.  We watched flowers unfurl and mangoes ripen and butterflies become swarms and then disappear.  Now after four years, one day we go for a walk and see the red floral tubes that go into scrambled eggs litter the ground one day and evaporate the next.  And I still can't remember their name. 

On the other hand, the swifter passage of time has its rewards. This year fog and its accompaniment, the light, steady drizzle called chipi-chipi push into the end of March. And we have discovered a flower bed in which I planted tiny bits of root three years ago has, with benign neglect, turned into a ginger field. When I planted the ginger, I couldn't imagine such a thing.

Today we took the dogs for our favorite walk, the way softened by fog and chipi-chipi. The edges of the road were lined with tiny flowers, the names of which I don't know, but I recognize them: the very tiny, yellow daisy-shapes, the rose-colored droplets, the fuzzy blue balls, the tiny, perfect, purple stars.  

Cano Exposición Extended in Xalapa

The exhibit Totonacapan with works by the artist Teodoro Cano which I wrote about previously has been extended another ten days, till the end of March, in the Pinacoteca Diego Rivera in Xalapa.  If you click on the link to my previous post, you will find a small sampling of Teodoro Cano's work.  Don't forget to click on each picture to see it bigger.

And if you are in Xalapa, please do go to the Pinacoteca to see them as they were meant to be seen.  The address is Calle J. J. Herrera, No. 5, in El Centro, right under Parque Juarez across the street from the Biblioteca Carlos Fuentes.

GPS in cars and on phones doesn't work here, though Jim loves plotting our trips with his hand-held gps. Back in the Olden Dayes when I worked a a case manager in Missouri and drove all over the place and sometimes got lost, we used a map BOOK (a la Guía Roji). I figured out why I like maps better for traveling than GPSs: you get a bigger picture of where you are; you get a bigger perspective on the geography; you even learn by your mistakes; you get to SEE MORE! You get to connect in your head the places you've been and the places you're headed. And you can watch where you're going instead of listening and looking at your GPS. I wonder how many accidents have been caused by driving while GPSing! "Turn right NOW" says the impersonal voice in one of several accents. Suddenly you have to swerve out of the left lane.

The Pope and Tembladeras on the Faldas of Cofre de Perote, Veracruz, Mexico

This is a post I started before Typepad failed on my browser which is Chrome.  I love Chrome.  I sincerely hope Typepad, for whose services I pay, fixes theproblems soon. I am only going to use Explorer for the blog.

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A few weeks ago, Jim, my b-in-law John, and I drove along winding roads up to Tembladeras at about 10,000 feet, partly in an effort to find some sunshine for John who really, really does not like foggy, rainy weather, of which we've had a lot this year.  While it gets colder the higher you go, it often also gets clearer. It did this day, too, but not for long.

There's a new road up now so that we have a shortcut from just before Matlalapa, which is past Xico Viejo. Tembladeras is actually part of the Municipio de Xico, as are we, but it feels like another world.

Along the road, at maybe 9000', the clouds parted for a startling view of the Cofre on Cofre de Perote. (The nahuatl name is Naucampatepetl, or a variation of that.)

 

Here is a mountain path

 

and a mountain stream.

 

We also came upon this shrine leaning against the a rock face:

The flowers obscure the intimate picture behind it.  I wonder what Pope Benedict would say about it.

 

Tembladeras is a small town, around 500 people.  It is chilly because it is so high.  As usual, though, people were quite friendly and interested in chatting.  We'd gone in two cars because three people and five dogs are a bit squishy in one, and some women were particularly interested in John's license plate, so I told them a bit about Alaska, which is where he comes from.  As usual, kids loved the dogs.

Tembladeres is a potato-growing and sheep-raising area.  I'll write a bit about that soon.  It's also a place where local people are involved in research on the water supply, part of a project to determine the strengths and weaknesses of the water supply for our entire region.  I'll write about that, too, soon.

Anyway, below are some pictures of the town. 

If I were more disciplined, I wouldn't include this photo, but I'm not so I am.  The fog was marching across the mountain in bands, which you can SORT of see here.

Here are some clouds rising up behind a hillside.

The center of town is a pleasant paved area with an overlook and a church above it. Here you see some kids looking at John's dog in his car.

More kids

 
  
 
  There were lots of signs about preventing the flu and good hygiene. But the sign I liked best was this one which just gave the name of a kindergarden.

 On another building was a sign talking about the importance of early education,  It says "Early education: The first four years determine you life."

By the time we drove away, the clouds had settled everywhere.

 
 

Well, it seems that Chrome is not a "supported browser" and I must use Explorer or Firefox. I have used Chrome for quite a while with no problem. Firefox is difficult on my computer (or was) which has Vista as the OS. In principle I like to avoid Explorer. But I will for a while. Hope to be back with posts pronto.

I have been having technical difficultie with my blog for a number of days now. Hopefully they will be resolved soon.

Boston

I was in Boston for the eight days, neglecting my blog but enjoying my granddaughter and her parents, and my daughter. 

My son and family live in the North End of Boston, a neighborhood still full of life. The streets are narrow, the sidewalks often narrower a la México.  They are still lined with local stores -- no chains whatsoever, whether by design or not, I don't know.  There are local vegetable stores that look rather the way they do here, local meat stores, local fish stores, and what could be called abarrotes here -- grocery stores that sell a little of a lot of stuff.  The big difference is that they are much more expensive, as everything in Boston is.  My favorite store that sells abarrotes is called Polcari's. It's a step or two below street level, a bit dim, with barrels and cubbyholes and bins holding the goods.  And goods are stacked up in the windows.  It's not at all "cute".  Everything is old from natural aging. I bought Earl Grey tea and Assam tea in scoops from bins.  I haven't found here that tea here. I bought seeds for basil, a couple of varieties of Italian tomatoes, a kind of green pepper, and zucchini. I bought a Lebanese brand of couscous which comes in large, pea-shaped balls and bay leaves in a bag.  At another store, Pace, pronounced Pachay, I bought farro and a hunk of pecorino romano and small bottles of extra virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar from Modena and arborio...risotto "autentico."  In the fruit and vegetable store I bought a bag of mandarinas--"delites"-- and Pink Lady apples and bananas.  Of course the bananas are nowhere near as good as what we grow on our own hillside, but still...

My son is very much at home in this neighborhood.  His friends include the guy at Polcari's and at the veggie store and a number of other locales.  He played hockey with them while I was visiting.  They are thinking of forming a team on an ongoing basis.  Hockey is big in Boston. My son lives in a Boston Bruins hat.

Of all the cities in the US, Boston is the one I could live in.

My daughter-in-law and I went to Target.  A Target at a mall called Gateway.  My son won't go.  He calls it Gateway to Hell.  I'm still a sucker for Target, but this one is so huge it makes me feel like an ant as I crawl up and down the aisles.  People of all shades and accents troll the aisles looking for Stuff.  The worst case of trolling for Stuff was in Michael's, the craft chain.  There was a Michael's in the Gateway to Hell.  It has a lot of appealing Stuff, things fun for my granddaughter to do.  BUT it was really strange to see obviously not really well-off people loading carts not with STUFF but with JUNK like clueless little fish going after bait.

Anyway, I am back sitting at my table looking out through the plants at our waterfall. My life here is privileged if not expensive.