Thursday, September 4, 2008, el jueves

 

I’m back in San Miguel. Suzanne, who I met here this summer, invited me to keep her company while she fixed up her new house–una gran casa–which she bought in August. While I was working out whether this was at all possible, I told her I’d work very hard helping her buy rugs, ceramics, art, beds, whatever, but I’d have to do my own work 2 hours each day (writing and planning presentations). She said, “No problem, all you have to do is just say yes or no as I bring things in the house or say, too much salt on the margaritas.”

I thought I could do that. So here I am–in a casa (house) with two bedrooms joined by open terraces to a casita with three bedrooms, each casa/ita with a magnificent kitchen with the best of everything and centered on a courtyard with a fountain and fireplace and terraces and gardens galore.

 

Just so I wouldn’t feel totally hedonistic coming back to SMA so soon, I brought a large suitcase crammed with baby things for Casa de Los Angeles, the single mother’s baby daycare. http://www.casadelosangeles.org/ Lovely Amy Mohr, friend and writer, supplied a free-standing infant car seat and I bought toys and clothes at garage sales—really nice stuff.

 

I actually arrived in SMA the day before Suzanne did, but Lucha, the housekeeper let me in the casa(house). I walked into town and bought groceries and cerveza and taxied it home. When I was putting stuff away, Javier, one of the workers just walked in yelling, Patti. He’d just let himself in with one of the new keys, which kind of freaked me out, but he only left a business card concerning taxis. Javier is Lucha’s brother. All is well.

 

The view of the city is lovely from the five balcony/patio/terraces during the daytime and exquisite by night. I see the parrochia and three other churches, plus all the lights of the city. (This casa is rentable, with its five bedrooms in the main house and the casita, two kitchens. Here’s a link www.vrbo.com/199990   )

 

SITTING IN THE PARK EARLY – DRINKING MARGARITAS LATER

 

Friday, September 5, 2008, el viernes

 

Suzanne arrived early Friday morning with suitcases brimming with sheets for the five beds. And we immediately began to measure everything and make plans for shopping. I climbed up the long hill, which is a great warm-up to swim in cool water, then met her at the jardin (central park). She was way late, but I enjoyed people-watching, while sitting on a park bench. Here was the best scene.

 

A Mexican woman wearing a blouse unbuttoned to below her breasts and nestling a puppy dog below those well-exposed breasts and over her ample hips, leans over and kisses an older pot-bellied gringo, all the time she’s talking on a cell phone. Before leaving, she leans in and gives him another smooch and walks down the street. The row of gringos (American men) sitting alongside me but separated from me by a tree, yells to the guy, “You weren’t looking at that dog.” And he yells back, “No, but I was looking at those puppies.”

 

I was laughing, so the gringos invited me to come to lunch with them, but instead, I waited for Suzanne to arrive at the jardin. We had lunch on a patio terrace overlooking the town. Yahoo. I felt rich and European and relaxed. Afterwards, I went to my first private Spanish class at the home of Norma Cecilia Romero Delsordo. (great name, eh?)

 

Around nine, Suzanne and I walked into town and had dinner at Los Milagros and the owner served us, plying us with way-too-strong margaritas. When he asked how they were, I told him what I thought so he brought tamarind Margaritas on the house that were exquisite. Okay, so we were drunk, especially Suzanne who’d just arrived on 3 hours of sleep.

 

I’d really like to be telling this all in Spanish, you know, for practice, but I know my dad would not approve of that and, oh yeah, hardly anyone would read it. I often act as translator for Suzanne and sometimes it probably comes out right but other times I’m probably saying: The green and white stripes please mi amiga, Suzanne, but she doesn’t make with the red and yellow flowered fabric.

 

TRIP TO DOLORES HIDALGO FOR CERAMICS AND TILE TABLES

 

Saturday, September 6. El sabado.

 

Angelica, Suzanne’s house manager, took us around San Miguel to see hand carved pine headboards and then brought us to the studio where Rinato can paint them. Right in his house, the children were eating cereal and an older child was painting milagros (miracle scenes to help families get through rough patches). We were taken into the bedroom to see their elegant carved headboard—the arabesques accented in gold over the maroon and deep green. Suzanne had the brilliant idea of taking an open shelving unit from the casita, have Rinato add doors to it, and paint a whimsical San Miguel cityscape—or something else yet to be decided. She also ordered some simple wooden chairs that he’ll paint with fruits and vegetables—or maybe not. All these decisions are to be made. Eventually I should have pics.

 

Angelica and her husband took us to the factory store, San Gabriela (on the way to the town of Dolores Hidalgo—known as the ceramic town) where we spent four hours picking out ceramic pots and jars and ordering customized tile topped iron tables and chairs. Suzanne knows what she wants, and it’s not anything there on the floor. She really cracks me up—and thank God Angelica was there to do the translating—because S wants the pattern from this square table, but made for her round table and not these tiles, but she’ll supply the tiles because the 3,987 choices they have here just don’t blow her away. And she wants this ceramic water dispenser, but here where the background is ivory, make that red. And the mugs like this, but in blue. And she’ll get it all. Delivered. And that’s all part of the beauty of Mexico. And of Suzanne’s ability.

 

I’m so impressed with Suzanne and it’s such an education for me because I’d either say, fine,whatever, or walk away from the task because it’s just too overwhelming. But we loaded the van with stuff and the customized stuff will come later—once S chooses tile from some other place.

 

Okay so here, I’ll mention, this woman doesn’t sleep or eat. She just goes. And goes. And goes. Because we swim early in the morning, we haven’t seen food since 8 am and that was a pretty paltry meal. And now it’s 4:30 and my chin is flat on the pavement, so I figure it’s time to mention food. Our great hosts take us to a little carnita (pork meat) place at the side of the road. And food has never tasted so good–the pork and the pickled peppers, and two different salsas and little tortas—pork meat pies in cornbread. So Suzanne says she’s just sharpening my desire for food, so I canreally appreciate it. I also must say that I’ve fallen into the pattern even when I’m not with Suzanne, which is really astounding because I’m normally a three meals a day and plenty of snacks kind of a gal. As for sleep I still sleep like the dead, or as we say here in Mexico duermo como angelitos—I sleep like the angels.

 

FURNISHING LA CASA AND THEN WE FIESTA

 

Sunday, September 7, el domingo

 

I won’t tell everything, but this woman is doing a yeoman’s job. She’s buying beds, lamps, mirrors, glass table tops, textile art, and ceramics in stores, markets, here and in surrounding towns, in the park and having iron wrought into headboards and ornate rods to hang beautifully woven fabrics, and items get delivered at various times, and the phone is ringing and between the two of us we bounce all over the house and direct these men to move this and install that and with our primitive Spanish everything is getting done. So here’s a funny anecdote.

 

An original bed had to be moved from the downstairs casa, across the terrace and into an upstairs casita room, but it was too big to go around corners and get up the stairs, so Jorge and Luis pulled it up over a terrace wall with a rope, Suzanne, supplying her brand new cooking mitts to pad the bed feet against the stucco of the terrace walls. Still it wouldn’t fit through the door and the bed required an allen wrench (llave allen) to dismantle. So I run out on the streets looking for a man working under his car (Suzanne’s suggestion—this is 6:30 Sunday evening) in order to try to borrow a set of wrenches. Well, I found no man under a car anywhere, but I did find two little boys, Enrique y Erik, who took me (we ran) to first one hardware store (closed), then another (closed) and a third which would be open for 5 more minutes and I guessed at whether we needed standard or metric, bought a set, and paid each boy with the coins I had—10 pesos for the best helper, 5 for the other. Then I had to break up their argument and explain it was all I had in coins, but Enrique did most of the work, Erik, which he agreed to, and all was well. Except the allen wrench didn’t work. The largest one was too small. The men had already gone and left the bed on the terrace to be dealt with mañana. Suzanne was very appreciative of my idiocy. Which she had suggested.

 

FIESTA DE SAN LORETO

 

At 8 pm we set out for dinner, but first we went to the most spectacular street festival, Fiesta de San Loreto on Calle San Loreto. As we walk down the narrow cobblestone street, like a canyon with stucco buildings built up on either side, there are children on fairly primitive carnival rides and a row of net-encased trampolines, with about a dozen young children bouncing on each one, squealing in delight.

 

Further down the street, chicos, boys from about 11 to 18 are, drumming and dancing, dressed in deer skin loincloths, their faces painted, feathers in their straight black hair, wearing necklaces of bear claws and various animal parts and dancing like the plains Indians of North America. When I ask about this–the similarity of Central American Indians to North American Indians–it’s surmised that people living an existence, close to nature, would probably develop similar cultural practices. I wonder.

 

And further down yet, blocking the street is a spectacular shrine dedicated to San Loreto. A grotto of white flowers and crepe paper draped in red and gold banners, surround a life-size statue of San Loreto. Mexicans of all ages are coming approach and make the sign of the cross.

 

We go to dinner after 9 pm at–and this is the truth—La Bugambilia—and inside bougainvillea is cascading down the walls. A wonderful Spanish guitarist serenade and dinner is great, chile relleno stuffed with apple and beef and pomegranate, beautifully seasoned, with maybe cardamon, all encrusted in almond meal. It’s normally in a cream sauce which we omit as we’re both lactose intolerant. This is a typical dish of this restaurant and this area. I’ll find out the name of the dish. Great. And a salad with mixed greens, slices of avocado, pomegranate seeds, grapefruit sections (with the membranes removed), grapes, and a dressing of I don’t know what, but not sweet J and it’s the best meal I’ve had here, ever. (Besides the carnitas on Saturday, of course).

 

MORE SHOPPING AND DECORATING

 

Monday, September 8, el lunes

 

I’ve never enjoyed shopping so much. Maybe because we’re buying all this gorgeous Mexican folk art. I’m getting a few things as well. I buy them as gifts and Suzanne says, no, get that for you and Morgan. So, we’ll see.

 

I gave my second two books, Zinnia and Frog Brings Rain to the library today, even though Blossom Tales, which I gave to them this summer, is not in the catalog. Juan Manuel said he would enter these two into the system right that moment. And we’ll presume that Blossom Tales is in a stack of books ready to be entered.

 

A parade of school children marched, drumming and bugling (wowee, what intonation!) around the jardin yesterday as I passed. Each school was represented and identified so sweetly by uniform and style of marching. Here was a group of girls in green plaid skirts, white blouses and knee socks and white gloves in identical mary-janes swinging their arms and making tiny steps; here are boys lifting their knees high, in navy blue pants and white shirts with soft homemade red epaulets; here, a group of girls with their white gloved hands pressing into their red plaid skirts absolutely confident. What’s this next, a secretarial school? Young ladies in straight skirted tan suits wearing nylon stockings! And what are those two young women doing in the boy’s group, trying to march in stiletto black heels. Very sweet.

We ate at home as we do every other night. A salad of mango, cucumber, carrot, jicama, sweet peas, whatever looks good at the market. And we direct deliveries of items purchased, plan how to exhibit art pieces, setting ceramics and pillows and beds and bedding in place, hanging beautiful huge platters.

 

SAVE THE CHILDREN – CASA DE LOS ANGELES—AND THE DOGS

 

Tuesday, September 9, el martes

 

Finally, I delivered the baby things to Casa de los Angeles—a wonderful place. There’s a room each for under one, one year olds, two, three, and four year olds. They were napping, so I just said hola and flirted with a few children. More on this later, because it’s a great place to donate. They line the babies up in car seats and on blankets on the floor for their naps. They definitely need stuff—this 9-5 day care for poor single Mexican mothers runs with a handful of employees and lot of volunteers. It’s a place where you can hold babies, read to little ones. Each mother must work one hour for each day her child stays.

 

I’ve been carrying around a couple of baby sleepers wherever I go and I’ve not found the usual mothers-carrying-babies that you usually see. Instead of giving them fifty cents or a dollar, I want to hand them an outfit. The old ladies who sit on the stoops in the street or market place stairs or selling the little dolls, I’ve been interviewing. Tiene nietes? Do you have grandchildren? But none have had infants to two year olds, which is what I can supply. As soon as I deposited the clothes at Casa de los Angeles, I ran into three young indigenas mothers with their babies. But no baby clothes with me. I retained one toy and one baby sleeper, so I’ll have that with me on my next trip to town.

 

Same with dogs. Skinny sad sweet Mexican dogs abound. Yesterday, once I’d finally realized I must carry snacks because of the mega-gaps between meals, I was scarfing salted pepitos as I walked down the street. A long legged black dog took on that CUTE ear-swiveling alert look so I laid a handful of seeds on the pavement. He rushed to eat it. And that was that.

 

So today I bought a medio-kilo (a pound) of Pedigree dog kibble, that many stores sell in bulk. I set a handful of kibble on the cobblestone for the first dog I saw who happened to be a pit bull (there’s a bad pit bull story I heard at a free Spanish conversation class yesterday—one attacked this woman’s friend. The authorities locked it up for 10 days, no rabies, and released it. It has an owner, but it’s supposed to be back on the street). But this pit bull I saw was a sweet boy, sort of like my dad’s dog, Guy. The pit bull followed me down the street instead of eating the kibble. I coaxed him back to the pile of Pedigree to show him. Oh, this was edible stuff! Peanuts and chicken bones, he knew, but he’d possibly never eaten dog kibble ever before. So he ate.

 

But then he caught up and followed me. I laid down a trail so he’d have to find each kibble, giving me time to make my getaway. Nope, he’d rather follow me than hunt for kibble on the pavement. Jazzabelle, our yellow lab, would have snarfed each kibble before racing for more. I felt kind of like the Pied Piper as he followed me down the street, imagining a whole string of canines in tow. Eventually he gave up and hopefully returned to the trail of kibble. I’ll have to perfect my technique.

 

Because we don’t have internet connection at the casa, yet, I’m making this blog entry as one huge entry. I went to an internet café for the first time to pick up my e-mails. It cost all of fifty cents for 20 minutes, but I think I was there much longer than 20, answering a build up of mail.

 

I went to the upper salsa class at Mama Mia’s. So much fun. The teacher )can’t remember his name from summertime) but Morgan will remember him, spent a lot of time dancing with me. If you’re with a great partner, you dance great. Then Suzanne met me (who was impressed by my spinning ability) and we had dinner at Pegosas at around 10:00 and closed the place after sharing a mojito and tamales and artichokes. Nice.

 

 

MORE SHOPPING, DEFLATED PARTY, LEFTOVERS

 

Wednesday, September 10, el miercoles

 

Suzanne ended up ordering beautiful carved wooden headboards, in a little workshop on the way home from the Costco in Celaya. One will be designed from the Diego Rivera painting—a view of a girl from behind, her braids streaming down her back as she is gathering lilies—alcatrazes!—isn’t it interesting that the famous prison in San Fran is named lilies. Did you know that? I didn’t.

 

Another headboard is latticework and the other a carving of flowers. All exquisite, as seen on Suzanne’s cell phone camera.

 

She bought about 10 metric yards of toilet paper, as well as light bulbs, because she never wants to return to Costco.

 

After I swam, I met Suzanne and we purchased more ceramic ginger jars, beautifully painted plates for the walls, and tapestries to set around the house. It’s really taking shape.

 

We came home to finish cooking for our 5 guests, salmon, rice and beans, salad, then I went out to salsa again and danced with the most expert salsa dancer I’d ever danced with. YIPPY AYE AY, I could do anything. He tried talking to me while we danced, but I had to say, I couldn’t speak Spanish and dance at the same time…yet. One or the other and unfortunately no, I couldn’t go out to El Rinque and dance later because I had to return to the party. I returned home and only one person showed up. We don’t know why, is there some cultural thing. I knew none of the people invited, so I have no speculations except maybe it’s like the Japanese who always say yes, so as not to disappoint you, then later don’t show up, which is actually more disappointing. Who knows.

 

So we have an awful lot of rice, beans, salmon and salad, which we’ll give away to various workers. Not to mention 8 heads of romaine, which is the only way Suzanne could purchase it at Costco.

 

DELIVERIES, DECORATING,

 

Thursday, September 11, el jueves

 

We waited for deliveries, advised Javier on where to hang this plate and that mirror and install this lock, then set out to buy even more vases, jars, plates. The house is pretty big and needs color. We both went swimming, and set out to the market and small stores and bought even more. I’ve never ever abs

olutely ever shopped so much in my life. And we have fun doing it.

 

Suzanne carries her tape measurer and pages of legal pad notes of places and sizes of niches. It’sorganized chaos. We got the greatest little mirror for the upstairs casita bathroom—looks like it’s designed for the room. Tomorrow I’ll take photos and develop a virtual tour.

 

Because we had to greet deliveries at home we went into town three different times, each time arriving home in a taxi,which costs $2.50 and with tip, $3.00 for each trip. Not bad J

On one venture we stopped at the Casa de los Angeles and played with the under-one-year-old babies for about an hour. Suzanne was already smitten and now I’m besotted

with Daron, who looks like a baby Elvis Presley or a telenovela (soap opera) star; Javier, who is like a little man, with his hair parted and combed tight across his crown; and José Maria who could grow up to be Kevin Costner or his own movie star—such a darling; Irvine is also a doll, but not as active as the others. Magdalena, their care-taker takes up to 8 babies each day, and she actually got to eat her lunch today because we took over the babies for an hour.

 

I’ve been feeding the street dogs with some success. Tomorrow I’ll bring them real chicken, which has been in the refrigerator too long. But at dinner last night at a little tiny courtyard restaurant on the street beyond Calle Jesus (Calle Jesus is all torn up, the bricks had to be taken out and returned to the original cobblestone when San Miguel Allende received its World Heritage status—to keep its old charm), anyway, at dinner, the owner had the sweetest baby beagle, who must weigh all of three pounds at this point. I had my kibble, so I plied her with one kibble at a time until she was beside herself. She couldn’t get enough. But since she’s probably well fed to begin with, after 12 tiny kibble, it looked like her baby belly might burst, so in spite of her attempt to crawl into my lap and onto the stone ledge with the kibble, I had to cut off her supply.

 

SUZANNE LEFT TODAY, BOO HOO

 

Friday, September 12, el viernes

 

Suzanne left at 4 a.m. I have a few deliveries to accept and pay for and an errand en el centro (in town central) to get for her. On the way to and from swimming and these errands, I gave all the leftover chicken and the Pedigree kibble to needy dogs. I gave away the baby sleeper to a mama (indigenas) in the market who had her baby on the floor next to her herbs and vegetables. She seemed very shyly pleased. I gave away my last sweet stuffed squeaky toy (that Jazz thought surely belonged to her) to the shopkeeper from whom I bought some little gifts.

 

In fact…Jazz. Morgan says she seems “lazy” and might be depressed. She saw all those toys at home I was readying to take away. I’m sure she thought I was bringing them to other dogs…and how could I do such a thing? I will make it up to her as soon as I get home.

 

Beautiful dogs have become strays here in SMA. Twice today I passed a recently coiffed standard poodle—stray–who was so nervous, he couldn’t stop to accept my kibble or even the chicken. I left some in the street and hope he found it. But it looks like he’s going to run himself to death. He’s very skinny and high-strung. I figure people end their stays in San Miguel and just let their dogs out of the house. A pair of—what look like—cockapoos hang around quite near the casa. I make sure they get food; Suzanne and I saved one of them last night by screaming at a police car, who seemed about to run one down.

 

I had my last Spanish tutoring session with lovely Norma who helped me with a bilingual English/Spanish manuscript of a children’s book. Norma thinks Suzanne and I have done a terrific job of decorating the house. She loved the combination of loud and clay color of the pieces in the niches.

 

Mexican Independence Day is Tuesday and everyone is revving up with green, red, and white decorations on the street, in their stores, in their hair. Fireworks at night. I’ll miss it.

 

So I think I’m finishing up now, this blog that was done completely on Word to be transferred to the blog when I return home Saturday. Or Sunday. I do love San Miguel and I love having made this new and wonderful friend of Suzanne. We really click. We’ll be friends for life, I’m quite sure. I’ll post this and then get on the photos as soon as I have time. There are some good ones.