From Xico

Why I run instead of taking Tai chi

I started to run for exercise and drifted away from Tai Chi at La Ceiba Gráfica at the hacienda La Orduña. I have told Martín Vinaver, the Tai Chi instructor as well as one of the two founders and leading lights of La Ceiba Gráfica that I would return if he gave evening classes.  But running has it all over Tai Chi for me, at least now while I can still do it. I actually relish it all the while I cringe at the pumping of my calf and thigh muscles as I start out.  I drop my shoulders and inhale and feel my ribs spread.  It feels like work, work, work, until I see a woman with a huge stack of wood on her head.  Then it doesn't feel like so much work.  I wonder what these women think of the gringa running because she wants to (or at least because her doc told her to) and not because she has to in order to cook for her family. Jim says he has to pay attention to the running.  I don't pay such attention.  I'd rather be slow.  Daydream. Notice the birds, the egret that bursts out of the grass, the weird underwater sounds some make, the vultures silently slipping across the sky. Exchange greetings with families walking to San Marcos or other crazy people running or the ice cream man making his way to Ursulo. Or smile at the boys in baggy pants who suddenly grin and say "¡Animo!" And watch the flowers change from week to week. Or say "Adios" to the men leading burros and horses with wood stacked so neatly over their backs. The dogs trot with me, usually Jocko and either Happy or Rita, Happy being a bit lame, Rita, old like me.  Jocko is just slow.  He trots majestically until he decides not to.  He just stops dead in his tracks. Then he slowly walks to the edge and sniffs and pees or ambles to the middle to take yet another dump.  Elegantly.  

We turn around after a mile.  On a hot morning I don't feel the breeze going up.  I just feel the heat. But after we turn, the breeze sweeps across my face and glues my damp shirt to my chest to cool me. At the bottom, Jim takes all the dogs and I pretend I can actually run a bit faster.  He still speeds past me. Finally he reaches the end down at the river.  The dogs run down and get wet and quench their thirst.  Finally I join them and we pile into the car and head home.

Yes, there is junk on the road. Plastic and styrofoam from comida chatarra, junk food.  Too much.  Our colonia is immaculate.  At leaast once a week a row of women go up and down the streets sweeping what housewives or those who work for them missed.  But that road, cars can whiz down it and toss their stuff.  And there's nobody to pick it up.  I think everyone is waiting for the downpours of the rainy season to wash it away.

Sometimes I think visitors from the States will notice the garbage first and maybe not even see anything else.  That would be very, very sad indeed.

Anyway, coming up, a visit to La Ceiba without taking Tai chi.

¡Embarazada!

Not me.  A  couple of days ago, Erica Gibson, a researcher from the University of South Carolina came to our colonia to.....do research!  She is involved in a project comparing maternal care, both pre- and post-natal, among Mexican women in Veracruz and in South Carolina.  Veracruz comes out better, so far at least.  

Two of our friends in the Colonia, Mari and Areli, met her criteria of being in their third trimester so they came down to be measured, weighed and questioned.  Erica is a delightful interviewer who made the experience fun for all of us, including Jim and me.  We hung around in the background.  She brought hand-crocheted baby blankets and caps (she does the caps, her students the blankets) and 200 peso gift cards from Chedraui for Areli and Mari.  Mari's son Omar also came and sat patiently through the whole thing.  

Afterwards, the women had water being the well-educated pregnant women they are (no caffeine, no sodas) and we all chatted.  They gave credit to the wonderful program Oportunidades  which Erica had not heard much about (!) for their understanding of the issues facing them.  Interestingly, when the matter of safety in the US vs. Mexico came up, Mari and Areli had absolutely no doubt that Mexico was safer. As I frequently say, it sure seems that way here. 

And here they all are:

From left to right: Mari, Omar, Erica and Areli

Strange Fruit

Now in season:

Zapote Negra.

About the size of an apple. The very black pulp is shiny, custardy and mild. Six or so smooth brown seeds nest in it.  This is the first year we've eaten them.  When we asked at the Coatepec market what to do with them, people looked at us in surprise.  "Why you just break them open and eat them. Delicioius!"  One woman gave us a recipe. Mix the flesh with pieces of orange and honey: muy dulce. As with much of the fruit here, zapotes negras are seasonal: here today, gone tomorrow.

I can see a relationship with mamey zapotes in the smooth, hard, oval seeds.  But otherwise mamey zapotes seem quite different.  They are larger, sort of football-shaped, with a rough tan skin and sweet- potato textured and colored pulp that in fact tastes a bit like sweet potatoes.  It is both sweet and at times a little bit bitter. Mamey Zapotes seeds, though similar looking to zapotes negras, are much larger, and there is only one in each fruit.

Democracy vs. Dictatorship -- from Coatepecanos.com

My translations.  I hope that the Coatepacanos. com organization doesn't mind my theft.  You should take a look at Coatepecanos.com if you read Spanish.  It is our local onlline newspaper and has a mix of local, national and international news.  Particularly good for our local stuff.

Panel 1: Democracy. (from the Greek, demokratia).  This is what all forms of government which serve Washington are called.

Panel 2: Dictatorship (from the Latin, dictuatura.) This is what all forms of government that don't serve Washington are called.

Panel 3.  Global dictatorship.  Sinonym for Washington.

Butterflies by Nabokov, etc.

The clouds have returned this morning.  It's cool and gray.  I am sitting at my desk which provides a jumbled border between our living room furniture and our dining room furniture. I am looking out the glass doors over the balcony.  I choose to work here because  it seems here that indoors is almost outdoors.  A tiny yellow bird with touches of black is flitting from leaf to leaf on some rose leaves.  He is pecking off what I imagine are tiny bugs for its breakfast.  

December and January seem almost devoid of small creatures here.  It is our winter.  But yesterday we noticed the return of some butterflies including a tiny one that Jim spotted. It was maybe a third of an inch across a wing as it sat on a plant that didn't quite mask it.  I've seen some large yellow ones and a white one with fine black tracings on its wings.  

As it warms, I hope we will see a kaleidescope of butterflies.  Every winter I worry that maybe this year they will not come back.  I don't know much about butterflies, just scraps that Jim has told me -- he learns a lot more.  I am always amazed at the delicacy and complexity of their designs, the richness of their colors, their fragility and toughness, and how ugly they can be as caterpillars or in their cocoons.  

Just in time to mark the very first glimmers of butterfly season here (if that's what I can call it) there is an article in the NY Times about Vladimir Nabokov* as butterfly lover and expert.  It turns out that he was the curator of lepidoptera at the Museum of Comparative Zoology at Harvard.  He was self-taught, with a special interest in a group called Polyomattus blues.  We see quite a number of blue butterflies here in season.  I don't know if any are part of his blues.  I was amazed to read that butterflies have existed for millions and millions of years and that Nabakov's theories about their migrations from Asia over vast expanses of time have proven accurate even though he wasn't taken very seriously as a scientist and his theories were considered unlikely during his lifetime.  

What long histories creatures on the planet have, what adventures they have been on, what obstacles they have faced!  I'm glad Nabokov thought about these things.  And that I can be lazy and learn from him without doing all his work.

I am a dilettante.  Without even leaving our house I am dazzled and bewildered by the abundance I see.  I wouldn't know how to discipline myself to focus only if intently on blue butterflies or tiny yellow birds or the path of the waterfall or the trees growing helter skelter over the hillsides.

*The great Russian writer probably most famous in the US for Lolita.

 

 

 

Egypt and Mexico and Foreign Policy

John Kerry writes an eminently sensible op-ed piece in the NY Times today about Egypt and US relations with her.  His advice and analysis bear some direct relevance for US policy in Mexico, too.  Kerry says:

"...[t]he United States must accompany our rhetoric with real assistance to the Egyptian people. For too long, financing Egypt’s military has dominated our alliance. The proof was seen over the weekend: tear gas canisters marked “Made in America” fired at protesters, United States-supplied F-16 jet fighters streaking over central Cairo. Congress and the Obama administration need to consider providing civilian assistance that would generate jobs and improve social conditions in Egypt, as well as guarantee that American military assistance is accomplishing its goals — just as we are trying to do with Pakistanthrough a five-year nonmilitary assistance package.

"The awakening across the Arab world must bring new light to Washington, too. Our interests are not served by watching friendly governments collapse under the weight of the anger and frustrations of their own people, nor by transferring power to radical groups that would spread extremism. Instead, the best way for our stable allies to survive is to respond to the genuine political, legal and economic needs of their people. And the Obama administration is already working to address these needs.

"At other historic turning points, we have not always chosen wisely. We built an important alliance with a free Philippines by supporting the people when they showed Ferdinand Marcos the door in 1986. But we continue to pay a horrible price for clinging too long to Iran’s shah. How we behave in this moment of challenge in Cairo is critical. It is vital that we stand with the people who share our values and hopes and who seek the universal goals of freedom, prosperity and peace."