Now taking duty free orders

My last post is going out to Sergio, my lovely baile instructor who helped me take my very first baby steps on the path to shaking my bottom like a latino. Muchos besos para ti Serg.

In three day's time now we'll be sitting either in on an aeroplane or in an airport, making the long journey home. It's fairly incomprehensible so I'm trying not to comprehend it at all, and will try to be ignorant of the fact until it's time to pack. Enough said, before I cry.

We are currently sitting in Ajijic, a small village nestled between a beautiful lake and the deeply creased, tropical green mountains which roll up around it. It's a bit like living in the sky. You can watch the clouds blow in over the water or snuggle up to the hills, every hour the light has changed. The clouds are always very low and there is a perfectly dramatic thunderstorm every day. Ajijic is a hotbed of US and Canadian retirees and rich weekend Guadalajarans ('tapatios' they call themselves). Still, all lovely people and the village has enough of a working local population to keep it interesting. Plus all the gringos make for great restaurants.

We have a lovely ex-hacienda style house on the lake which is very nearly perfect. It's a long U-shaped building with high vaulted ceilings around a courtyard and fountain. (If you can imagine, the courtyard is in place of what might be a hallway in regular houses, except much wider). The courtyard leads into a shady garden with citrus trees, green grass and a jacuzzi. The house isn't fancy but wonderfully comfortable, perhaps the only place which has gone with big old leather lounges instead of the general Mexican penchant for right-angled wooden "couches". The knives are sharp, the showers are hot and strong, the scotch glasses are crystal and heavy (Mexican scotch = añejo tequila. Fantastic). It's so quiet, only the occasional horse hooves on the cobbles outside. A very nice place to rest up and read.

Some final sentimentality, and some good times to remember - just off the top of my head;

• 5 hours in Santos Café, Guanajuato, sheltering from the rain. Sopa azteca y muchos copas grandes de vino tinto con Anna; los niños sentado en la ventana viendo 'Batman' de los 1960s.
• Hours upon hours of hammock-swinging and Belekin beer.
• Disco-dancing with a Guadaljaran truck driver, his sister and friend in a crazy, uber-hip, lollipop-sucking, strobe-lit club. Yelled a lot of drunken Spanish because no one could hear me anyway.
• The toucan.
• Home brew in Morelia with a bunch of beautiful first-year students and a 2 week old chihuahua.
• Getting in touch with my inner cyclist (if not my inner thighs) as we bonded with the kids watching Le Tour over cornflakes each morning in Ajijic.
• Lying in the pool in Campeche, gazing at the stars, listening to the jazz festival.
• Party in San Cristobal at Beth and Hunter's. Great night, had to be there I guess.
• Eating what probably amounts to over AUD$2000 worth of avocado, mango, lime, cilantro and papaya over the past 6 months for a tiny fraction of the cost.
• Watching Artie and LuLu play soccer with wonderful local chicos in a wide array of locations - including steep callejons and sushi restaurants.
• Enjoying the love of life with a festival and/or parade in every town.

And of course meeting so many interesting, intelligent, hospitable, warm people in so many beautiful, vibrant, history-soaked places. 

The dream is over, what can I say. This trip was better than the Beatles.


Thanks for all being such an attentive audience and for your support in those moments when I felt far away. Lots and lots of love everyone. Hope to see y'all very soon. 


xx


(Doesn't really look like much, does it?)

Some things about Mexico

There are so many small, delightful things about life in Mexico. I'd like to write one or two of these down as much for my own benefit, so we can remember them.

Walking en el centro of any city, every second doorway is a home, and every third is a (work)shop, where people are making their living and filling the niche of need in their particular few blocks. You see people working simply and consistently all day. There are smells alternately of leather, paper, glue, bread, paint, petrol, meat, ink - there are tortilla machines cranking, paper shuffling, knives cleavering, sewing machines whirring, hammers banging away. It makes the whole experience of being in a metropolis feel so much more human. Rather than being shut up in offices, peoples' workplaces are open to the street or housed in the big, bright courtyards of what were once homes to the uber-rich (so gorgeous those old houses). There is an easy flow between people and workplaces, between homes and businesses, it seems. Cities are "lived" in (in a literal and a more spiritual sense... like sneakers, tal vez?) and cities show their respect by giving their communities public spaces, events, facilities and fabulous opportunities for community life. Even as a temporary resident these things are evident, and feel right.

Mexico is also a great place to think about and to view the mechanisms of world economics, capitalism and the general way of things. Just being here - during out time in Chiapas especially - engenders an immediate awareness of how the "system" effects lives and how it might be resisted, or at least subverted. Great coffee in Chiapas too, perhaps no coincidence. My theory is that Subcomandante Marcos and La Comandanta Ramona of Zapatista fame were driven to greatness and such clear-thinking by a consistent supply of great coffee. Revolution is tangible too in Chiapas (in one or two communities state and federal police are not allowed), and in Mexico more generally as they had a big one just 100 years ago. The one tricky thing about revolution is that it does seem to require violence, even though the rhetoric might try very hard to deny it. Quite by chance I happened to be reading "Life is Elsewhere" in Chiapas, which is a very clever and subtle (if a little clunky) little allegory of revolution and the rise of communism (albeit in Eastern Europe). Would like to read similar stuff if anyone has any recommendations. Sometimes I feel we are so duped in Australia. Sorry Australia, you just never look so great through Mexican eyes.

Another cool thing here - people have such a respect for and knowledge of national heroes, and their artists in particular. Even Lucien knows 90% of the people represented on Mexican currency. There is a little shrine to Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera in nearly every home, and historical figures like Morelos, Allende, Guerrera and Hidalgo are present as statues and street names in every town (less so Pancho Villa and Zapata, although they should be). I am ashamed to say that I probably know more about Mexican history just from hanging around here for 6 months than I do about Australian history.

Fashion in Mexico confuses me. Many of the women (chubby ones included) wear ridiculously tight clothes, full makeup (even to the gym) and the craziest, highest, pointiest platform stilletos made even more suicidal by the cobbled streets and flights of stairs everywhere. Now I'm not quite sure what all this is in aid of... Women seem quite free to walk around like this whereas if I even step outside with an ankle showing apparently I'm up for it. Boys too spend heaps of time on their appearance, especially immaculately blow-dried hair (a sort of emo-50s cross), and are not afraid to wear diamond earrings or fully pink tracksuits (with matching sneakers). Of course many Mexicans are extremely gorgeous with impeccable fashion sense, but some of the others... it's beyond me. I'd be interested to know how the men/women thing plays, the dynamic just isn't obvious. I suspect men have an easier run of it. Perhaps surprisingly for such an overwhelmingly catholic country gay men seem to be relatively accepted, supported and public (as much if not more so than at home). Often an indicator if gay women don't have it so easy (which is my impression here). But I ramble.

There are some things I will not miss about Mexico - for example, if anyone ever comes near me playing a horrendous Mexican polka on a piano accordion and/or tuba again I will shove the thing down their throats. I also will not miss the random scent of wee (but perhaps you get this everywhere, I can't remember). I look forward to lamb, peking duck, matured cheeses, sourdough, coconut milk, sesame oil, and I am ashamed to say it, weetbix and vegemite toast.

Well, after this I guess there's only one post left, and then I'm back in Oz. Please, if any of you have a heart, schedule me in for a lengthy pub session. I'll leave you for now with a little haiku -

My poor baby boy
Evil scorpion stung him
Hiding in his pants.

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