May Day 2017

May in Ixtlahuacan, how I love to complain about you. It's throat searingly dry. Everything is brown outside our walls. It's the month we have to hand water. Mexicans are burning shit. And this year, to add insult to injury, the beautiful mountain behind our house has been on fire for a week. Dusty doesn't even begin to describe what's happening on the surfaces inside my house. Last night, the breeze was just right and I kid you not, it was raining ash all around us when Ev was on the mirador with binoculars looking at the fire. The first fly of the season usually appears in late May making some of us act like crazy people with the tennis racket bug zapper. Our foothills are so dry they open cracks 3+ inches wide, Hilde has to pick her way even more slowly on our walks.

And yet...May holds much promise. There is evidence we'll have lemons, limes, oranges, avocado and mango later in the year. On our walk this morning I found the eucalyptus tree demolished last fall by the local curandera is growing shiny tender new leaves. The quince are so fat and juicy we know we'll have a crop that will pay for our water and taxes for the year. And sometime in May come the "rainbirds" with their deafening din, promising rain will be here in 6 weeks or less. There is goodness in May, too. Ripe avocados fall from the tree outside our bedroom window, waking us at 2a.m. The pool is a delicious 85 degrees. Hummers are vocal,street hens scuttle low, shepherding too many chicks to count. The plumeria and ginger scent the air like nobody's business.

Bobbing along the dusty trail, The Year is Round, and Jesus is still scowling.

We walk in our village almost every day on one of a half-dozen favorite routes. Hilde tore two ligaments in her left rear before Christmas, so these days when she musters the energy to go, we go slow and are choosing paths with fewer cobbles and more flat surfaces.

We see neighbors who tend cows and greet us warmly. Ibis, pelicans and egrets from Lake Chapala visit our little reservoir. Street dogs follow along for most or part of our walks. Sometimes we stop and eat a taco on the square, sometimes we stop and do our fruit and vegetable shopping. When the hot pink sign advertising ice and charcoal is taped to our corner store we now know it's fiesta time in the village or somebody died in the hood. Either way, we know there will be fireworks and Kino will need his bed moved to the bathroom..

Alvaro missed Ev while he was in the states for over a month.
Asked after him every. single. time. I saw him.

If Ev isn't with me, I dawdle more, sitting for long stretches on a rock under the eucalyptus trees. I hope the dogs will run and play but they don't. They lay at my feet.

After a couple of years here I'm beginning to recognize patterns. I know in winter the sun will be low enough to blind me in the kitchen in the late afternoons. I know when we break out long pants OR long sleeves, my neighbors will be bundled up in layers of fleece. I know when the streams will run, and when the dogs will be needing a hose down when we get home. I know now when bougainvillea will be at its prime, when the dry corn stalks will rustle so loud it sounds like water. We're coming in now to the dusty part of the year. MBS (Mexicans Burning Shit as Evboy says) fills the air with smoke and makes for stupendous sunsets. Bricks are being made.  Bedding is being washed because we can count on it being dry in a day. I have to dig out my chapstick.

The black one wants to
kick Kino's ass.

Kino, Lame Boy and Hilde.

New additions to the family.

Kino and Lame Boy giving 'em hell
because they can. And they're behind the fence.

I was excited to discover the woman who owns this store
also works at the bakery. So NOW, I know
where to get the good bread if the bakery is closed.

It's not a coconut, not a date, not an
acacia-but it is prolific.

Bricks drying.

Home again, home again, jiggety jog.

Taxco by way of Jungapeo

The tepid springs at Agua Blanca

 

Valle del Bravo

Yes, Elyse. We did.

Los Arcos Hotel. One steep block from the plaza. Delightful.

There were hundreds of these little faces, each one unique.

Pipe organ brought to Taxco from Germany, via Veracruz. On the backs of burros.

Unverified. Only known painting of a pregnant Mary.

I saw a magazine picture years ago (Years! Ago!) of a dining room table. On the table was a basket of pine cones, and in that basket was a three dimensional antique sterling silver sacred heart. You know the ones I'm talking about-the ones with flames coming out of the cleavage. I never forgot the image.

Taxco is about 6.5 hours from our home if you take the toll roads. It's a colonial town noted for its history of silver mining. In my always optimistic mind, I was going to waltz into Taxco with my mental image of a puffy flaming heart and magically make my dream come true. To quote Evboy, "disappointment burger."

In true Sewellian fashion we took the back roads. Why take the toll roads when I can be barfy on the mountainous curva peligrosas? (see images above and see why) It was a quick two hours on the highway to the cut off for Los Azufres, an area in Michoacan where cracks in the earth's crust spew delicious hot steam. Balnearios are frequently signposted. Then a two hour drive on narrow mountain roads until we found Agua Blanca, our thermal pool resort home for two nights in the podunk town of Jungapeo. The resort was lovely, the employees did everything they could to make our stay wonderful. We were the only ones there and they made us whatever we wanted to eat. The water? Tepid. Thermal does not equal hot. Thermal means something entirely different in Mexico and I'm still not clear on what that is. We climbed a pyramid, clambered down to the Tuxpan river from the hotel grounds and generally relaxed. Vacation from our life of perpetual vacation, if you will.

Wednesday morning we left for Taxco. Why backtrack, he said. It'll be a beautiful drive, he said. You packed snacks we can eat, he said. It WAS an interesting drive, I did enjoy looking at life in the small towns, and the wildflowers were unbelievable. We saw fields and fields of marigolds and red cockscomb almost ready to harvest for the Dia de los Muertos festival coming at the end of this month. On the back roads, you get to see stuff and smell smells you would never see on the toll roads. I loved it. All 8 hours of it. Thank God for the barf watch.

Taxco. Google has a bunch of "blue dot problems" in Taxco. Right off the bat, I navigated Evdad into an alley so narrow, and so steep and twisted even a donkey would have problems turning around. In all the years he's been my chauffer, I've never heard Ev say the words "I don't think I can get us out of this" But he did. We wisely parked the car in the parking garage and didn't get it out again until it was time to leave. We had a tour of Santa Prisca, a tour of a historic colonial home, some people shopped for silver, and some watched the people. Taxco, I hope to see you again. What a remarkably well preserved unique environment you are.