The Split

The shit has hit the fan in the family. Sides will be chosen, although they are pretty obvious already. It could get ugly. And it’s just the beginning of the holiday season.

Last year Luis and his nephew Dorian were chosen to be the Mayordomos of the annual Virgin of Guadalupe run for our neighborhood. Luis was excited as this was something his mother always wanted to do but never had the chance to before she died. Luis and Dorian were to split the responsibilities, namely to change the Virgin painting from household to household every week for the year, and then to organize and sponsor the run on December 12th.

Luis pulled his weight on the weekly task well enough, but could get a bit slack at times about changing the Virgin. He would forget, or decide he didn’t want to go. Dorian, as co-Mayordomo, filled in when Luis wasn’t there.

When the time came to start planning the run, Pati (Dorian’s mom and Luis’ sister) offered to make the shirts that everyone wears for the run. Luis asked her if she would have time because she also has a full-time business to run. She felt confident that she could do it. So Luis and I took a trip up to Guadalajara to purchase the fabric. Pati took the fabric we bought and started making the shirts. This was about a month and a half before the run date.

Luis started organizing water and oranges to feed the runners during the run, a location and food for the after-run party, and people to help in all the support roles (non-runners like me, that is).

Then the trouble started.

Early in December, Luis checked in with Pati to find out how many shirts were done. We needed at least a day lead time to send them to the printers before the run, although we could send them in batches to him if needed. She didn’t have any done. She had cut the material and knew she was going to need more. But no shirts were done and she didn’t know how much more fabric she needed.

Ok, well. We can go to Guadalajara to get more fabric once you tell us how much you need. Ok? So just let us know when you know.

Days went by and no word from Pati. We only had a week before the day of the run. Luis started to get angry. Getting the shirts done was becoming the biggest issue in organizing the run.

Pati finally told us how much fabric she needed. At that point she also mentioned that she was going to charge us 20 pesos per shirt. Keep in mind most of the effort put into this event is on a volunteer basis. Luis wasn’t getting paid anything, and was in fact putting out a lot of money as the sponsor of this event. When Pati originally said that she could make the shirts, there was no mention of money. But now that it was late in the game, suddenly money was an issue.

Luis, in his usual manner, decided not to discuss this with Pati at that point. This, as I see it, was his biggest mistake. If I were in his place, I would have discussed it immediately with her. Clear the air, get things straightened out while there is still time to take the shirts elsewhere if need be. And to make sure that the situation didn’t get any worse. But that wasn’t what Luis did.

As the days passed, Pati started to make excuses. “I don’t have any more shirts because the sewing machine was acting up… someone else let me down… I had to do something else.” But we would see Pati at our house in the evenings, eating tostadas with Cynthia, going home around 10pm. If I were her, I would have been spending all my spare time trying to finish the shirts. But that wasn’t what Pati did.

Finally the day of the run came and it all went off without a hitch. Somehow Pati had produced enough shirts to cover everyone’s back, I drove the van in front of the runners, and Luis ran the majority of the approximately 15k distance. After the run, the food was at the arter-run party location and everyone ate well.

In the days after the run, Luis went around and paid those folks who needed to be paid. Some things were donated in honor of the Virgin, some things just had to be paid for. But he didn’t go to Pati.

One night Pati was at the house. We all sat in the living room chatting for a bit, but when the conversation started to hit on the shirts, the crowd thinned out. Luis, Dorian, Pati and her daughter Mayra were in the living room, the rest of us respectfully disappeared into our own rooms.

In our bedroom, I could still hear them talking, but tried not to pay much attention. From the tones of the voices, it sounded like it wasn’t going well. In the end, Luis came into the room and said he didn’t want to talk about it. He went out to meet friends and came back after 2 or 3 hours, by which time I was half asleep.

The next day I got the lowdown. Pati insisted that she be paid the 20 pesos per shirt. She has become very materialistic in the past few years – ever since she began running her first and only business. She had tried to screw Luis and I over money after we brought her to the States, so I wasn’t really surprised. Disappointed, yes. Surprised, no.

But Dorian had also turned tail and was claiming that he was only Luis’ assistant, not a co-Mayordomo. Which essentially means that his half of the financial burden of the event needed to be covered by Luis. Never mind that Dorian took all the glory and respect paid to Mayordomos during the event. Never mind that the letters, which he wrote and printed up, inviting people to the event named him as a co-Mayordomo. Now that it was time to pay, he suddenly was a lowly assistant. How cowardly, how petty, how despicable! Pati basically made a $3500 peso profit on making the shirts for the run, Dorian hadn’t paid for anything related to the run. Now neither of them would even cough up a measley $750 pesos ($75 dollars) to cover one of the bills for the event.

Pati had screwed us over before, but Dorian had seemed to be an honest guy. So in the end, I felt more betrayed by Dorian’s actions than I did by Pati’s. In reality, it wasn't about the money. It was about integrity. Pati had seen a business opportunity in making the shirts. (And, after hearing some of her comments during their fight, an opportunity to put Luis down for the lifestyle he leads - which has nothing to do with the run, but has apparently been an issue in Pati's head.) She failed to see that the event itself exists to honor the Virgin, and thus was an opportunity for her to give praise by donating her services. Dorian just flat out lied to us.

At this point, Luis and I are planning on staying away from the Christmas celebrations tonight altogether. Neither of us want to see, let alone talk to, Pati or Dorian. So if we go to Laura’s house for the family celebration we will be forced to either pretend that things are ok, or to ignore Pati and Dorian. Neither solution is very comfortable or easy. Instead we think it’s better to avoid the event. Easier for everyone. But sad since there is such a strong emphasis on family here.

Aaaaaahhh-choooo!

Seems I have a hard time staying healthy down here right now. Two weeks ago it was the Dengue Flu. A few days after I recovered from that I woke up with a scratchy throat. I took vitamins and drank lots of water, living in denial. I figured maybe it was just all the sawdust I had been sucking up in the shop. Just call me Cleopatra, Queen of Denial.

Now it has grown into a full-blown cold, or something. I’ve taken Tabcin, a cold medicine, but the illness still persists.

Yesterday sucked. I didn’t get out of bed until 2pm. Then I went to Zapotiltic, a neighboring town, to drive our van, complete with trailer hooked up to the back to lead a pack of runners back to Tuxpan. See, yesterday, December 12th, is the day when people give praise to the Virgin of Guadalupe. Luis and his nephew Dorian have been the Mayordomo’s of this run for the past year. That means that they have moved a painting of the Virgin from house to house every week this past year, then planned and sponsored this run. I could hardly miss out on it due to illness.

But that meant that everyone in the house was preoccupied with getting things ready for the run. Luis was stressed out and running around all day, so asking him to get me some medicine was out of the question. Laura offered to find out what would be good medicine for me, but she got caught up in doing other things. So there I was, crawling out of bed at 2pm and realizing that I needed to make the trek to the Pharmacia to get my own medicine.

God, it sucks to be sick in a foreign country.

I just want to be healthy again.

I wonder if I stay so low below the radar around here sometimes that the family doesn’t realize how fucking sick I am. Or are they expecting Luis to take care of me? Today he talked to a doctor friend of his to find out what medicine to get me. Unfortunately, Luis mixed up his symptoms with mine (he has a bit of this cold too –no where near as bad as I do). So the doctor thought I might have a bug in my guts because Luis told him I had diarrhea. I don’t, Luis does. And Luis, feeling bad, claims that I told him I had diarrhea, and that I didn’t mention that I had fluid in my lungs. Somehow the hacking cough that comes out of my lungs every so often seemed to elude him.

So now I’m hoping that the new cold medicine Luis brought home works. I can’t do this illness shit any longer.

The upside of being sick for a month is that I've lost probably 10 pounds. Better than Jenny Craig.

Birth

We have three bird cages here at the house. One has a bunch of chirpy little birds. The kind that seem to be constantly chatting amongst themselves about the state of their world. Noisy little things. Then there is the lone paloma (dove). I always feel sorry for her being stuck in a cage barely bigger than her body, with no other birds there to chat with. Then again, she lives near the noisy birds and maybe her solitude is a welcome relief.

Lastly there are three fancy doves, one female and two males. They seem to be always fighting each other for the female’s attention. There have been eggs laid in that cage, but never any resulting baby bird.

Until last week. One evening I walked to the bathroom and thought I heard a higher pitched chirping coming from the cage than usual. Since it was some hour in the middle of the night, I didn’t bother to check up on it. The next day the kids told me “Hay una pajarito” – there’s a baby bird. We went over to look at it. It was fairly large, although it doesn’t have feathers yet, so it looked odd. I worried about it surviving the cold nights. I thought I could maybe find a rag to put in the cage to keep it warm. Then I thought better of it and figured nature will takes it’s own way. So far, the baby is still alive.

Holiday Time

Suddenly there are a lot more people in town. We went to get tacos al estacion this morning and a man with his two daughters sat down next to us. The older girl was facing away from us and talking to her sister. Every once in a while I thought I heard her speak English. But as soon as I would try to tune in to her voice, she would be speaking Spanish. One time I was sure I heard English and looked over at Luis to confirm. He nodded and said that they were visiting from the States.

It’s holiday season and everyone is coming home to visit. School lets out at the end of this week and won’t start again until early February. So for the next month and a half we will be swamped with relatives.

There are more cars in the center and more people walking about. Soon the tianguis (temporary stores) will be set up in the center. Lots of plastic items, lots of cookware, lots of clothing. And hopefully one booth of our stuff. Good quality, well built items. Not much more expensive than the competition, but it will last twice as long.

Journey

Have I been wasting my time here? Once I realized that I was in uncharted territory and that I was going to have to learn my way about, shouldn’t I have taken on the attitude of someone on a spiritual journey, forging ahead to learn things about myself as well as my adopted country?

Instead I have fretted away hours, railed against this new world I’ve been in for a year, hated it and wondered why the hell it wasn’t better, why it couldn’t be better. And I’ve been powerless to make changes as I would have in my own world. I’ve fought it instead of exploring it.

But maybe that is my journey. Or maybe my journey is just starting.

One year

Yup, it's been one whole year since I moved to Mexico. One year ago we had just arrived, fresh off remodeling the kitchen in Portland and immediately handing it over to someone else to enjoy. My cats were living with a friend in Portland. I was praying that those Spanish classes I had been taking would have somehow metastisized into a full-blown knowledge of the language. We were the owners of a bar. Luis' family welcomed us with open arms.

One year. Where are we now?

We still live in the same home. But there are obvious issues there. Nothing that will be fixed any time soon, unfortunately. But it's home for now.

We gave up the bar. It was a money pit. Now Luis' nephew Felipe runs it. We had a birthday party for Laura there the other day and I noticed that there was barely any liquor on the shelves. I asked Felipe and he said he pretty much just sells beer now. There isn't enough profit in liquor. Which is pretty much the state of the bar when we took it over. So maybe that was one of our mistakes. All beer, no liquor.

Now we have a carpinteria which has much potential, but not a whole lot of realized income yet.

My friend in Portland had some serious health issues and I had to scramble to find someone else to take my cats in. Now they are back in Hotlanta where they first came from. So far Wade's allergies haven't forced them into another move. And I think he likes having the undying loving attention from them.

My Spanish has come a long way. The other day I stopped in at the video store and ended up talking to the couple who run the place for a whole hour! I was really proud of myself for being able to hold a conversation with them in Spanish for so long, especially since Luis wasn't there.

I've been through some serious down times. I haven't always felt comfortable. I still feel limited in what I can do. I have no friends down here to speak of, or to speak to. But I am learning things about myself and how to deal with those feelings. I've recently felt some emotional strength coming back to me.

So all in all it's been a shitty learning experience of a year. There are parts I could have, and would have, happily lived without. But I think in the long run I will look back at this time and know that even though it was more rough than smooth, that I learned from it. And that's what life is for, right?

Visual Stimulation

I'm on a number of mailing lists. Some of them are regularly interesting to me, others only every once in a while. I got one a few weeks ago about a photography show call for entries. Since I have some 2600 photos of my time down here in Mexico, I figured I would skim through and see if I could come up with a good, solid set to submit.

At first I narrowed it down to 100 photos. Then I cast a critical eye on those 100. I wasn't sure. Did these 10 photos hang well together? Or was this photo too weak? Did they have a cohesive feel and look? Or was I fooling myself?

I finally decided to skip the whole thing. I didn't think I had a good enough set to submit and the deadline was fast approaching anyway. But I asked my sister what she thought. She looked over some of the previous winners and said she thought I had photos that could compete. I love my sister!

I mentioned the show to Luis and he was his usual uber-supportive. He thinks I constantly short-change myself when it comes to showing off my talents, and always tells me to go for it when things like this come up.

So I took another look at the photos and here is the set I have just submitted:












I think my artist's statement is a bit weak, so I won't include it here. Hopefully I will be able to fine-tune it before the midnight deadline...

You can see the winners from last year here. Tell me what you think. Unless, of course, you think my work doesn't hold up. And wish me luck.

Regardless of the outcome, all this visual review has inspired me to pick my camera back up in earnest again. I've been distracted by the carpinteria for the past few months, so not much has been going on with the camera. Well, that and my camera took a fatal dive into a public toilet about two months ago. Not surprisingly it doesn't seem to want to work now. So I have to get it looked at. Or buy a new camera. Any suggestions for good quality digital cameras?