Dispatch From LA

dumb struck or...why I'm still not home.

Hello! Here's a little story about what can go terribly wrong when you travel. It's time to leave San cristobal de las casas.
Your cab driver on springs called Guadalupe literally throws your bags in the back of his cab built for hobbits and flys out of town. Occasionally he puts the car in auto pilot so he can throw his head back and take long leisurely sips of his water or to look back at you in the backseat. You know... Just to see if you're still somewhere back there underneath the suitcase. He flys down the mountain and in no time flat you have arrived at the airport in Tuxtla Gutierrez and prepare for take off.

The plane leaves. The plane stops in Guadalajara at night. Everyone climbs down the rickety stairs with their luggage. You almost knock a woman in high heeled boots off of her stair in front of you. Accidentally. With your bag.
You aren't sure what you are doing or why but you've learned that following the herd and not asking questions is best in these situations.
You go in the airport. You go out of the airport. You go back in. Your luggage is searched. Your boarding pass is magic markered. You go outside. A flock of unruly sheep in the night. Your shepard separates the flock. You're in the group next to the woman reading the Spanish book on how to have multiple orgasms. I AM NOT MAKING THAT UP! You all board the plane. You are tired. The woman with the book is your seatmate.
You head to Los Angeles. After at least 2-3 hours of flying in a thunderstorm lightening strikes the plane. No really IT DID. Biggest noise you have ever heard. You make the sign of the cross. You aren't sure how this is going to turn out.

The plane makes it all the way to HERMOSILLA Mexico. It lands. You don't know why you're here. You don't ask. The plane sits on the Tarmac for a loooong time. Finally the pilots says LA is closed due to fog. He wants to fly all the way back to Guadalajara. Huh? Some of the passengers start to complain. They refuse to buckle up and sit down. The FEDERALES come on board. No really. THEY DO! You want them to take out those passengers gangster style, but instead they try reasoning with them. An hour later they've been subdued. The plane takes off. That's when the fun starts.
You wake up with a big thud. Touchdown! Back in G town. More herds more flocks lots of pushing and shoving everyone wants to be at the front of the line winding at top speed through the airport with no one at the helm guiding. The line to nowhere. You wind up at the back with the infirm and feeble. You learned in 2nd grade not to push. The line stops.
You wait in the line ALL. NIGHT. Your arse hurts, your legs quiver, you have to go to the bathroom.
If you wait a couple more hours you MIGHT get in on standby to LA from Mexico City. First though you have to GET to Mexico City. You aren't there, remember?

A stray sheep with a plan bolts out of line and into a really short little line on another airline. He looks like a nice sheep, not unruly. Not like a pusher. You go over to him and ask him what he just did. He bought a first class ticket on the other airline. You can do the same for a price. They're the only tickets left and if you buy one you won't have to spend any more time in the line with the pushers. You decide at this point that you brought the credit card in your purse on your trip for just such an emergency. So you use it!
Now you're eating chilequiles looking out the window. Waiting for your 2 pm flight to LA. The skies are blue, the sun is getting bright and shiny. You haven't slept but you don't care. You aren't in a line. You're going home!
The lady with the orgasm book? She's still in line. The woman with the go go boots? Still in line. You wave to them as you sashay past. They don't wave back, but you do not care. Not one bit.

Sent from my iPad

epílogo

this is the part of the book where you read the final chapter, the very last word, and very reluctantly close the covers, fold the words in on themselves, heave a mighty sigh, and say goodbye.

even though in your heart of hearts you know there's one more chapter. hiding somewhere.

maybe in the bud of this flower.

goodbye tangled vines and leaves.

quiet garden refuge.

goodbye la bamba guesthouse.

I will miss your walls and floors and hearth and big comfy chair..

and soft bed with the heated mattress.

where many an afternoon nap was enjoyed.

where each night I had lush dreams.

fueled by the vast colored panorama all around me. And the heart and soul of this casita.

I will be adding a link to this charming rental when I return home. it was a truly magical find. and La Duena a magnificent hostess.

flying home tomorrow. a stash of pine needles safely tucked away for safekeeping in one of my collection bottles.

Sent from my iPad

lounging packing playing

my travel journal desk here in the casita. tracing paper + artrage apps

Sent from my iPad

what I see right now

Stargazer app is extremely fabulous. Wow.

Sent from my iPad

the sky was stars all over it.

the garden at NA BALOM.

simple. rambling. disordered. wild. my favorite kind.

as my time here draws to a close I'm moving slower and slower. sinking into the royal city of san cristobal de las casas more deeply. reading on the rooftop azotea while flotillas of clouds pass overhead.

every night I go out in the back patio and stare up at the sky. starshine at night. I like to see what orion is up to down here in chiapas.

I found this poem in a book La Duena let me borrow from her enormous collection. THE NEW WEEKEND BOOK. books written in the 20's intended to be the only book you'd need for a long weekend out of the city or a sea voyage. collections of poems, astronomy, games, music, first aid, and so much more. sort of like an iPad with the flipboard app installed. for the pre-digital world.

I stood and stared, the sky was lit,
The sky was stars all over it,
I stood, I knew not why,
Without a wish, without a will,
I stood upon that silent hill
And stared into the sky until
My eyes were blind with stars and still
I stared into the sky.

-Ralph Hodgson

hmmmmm. I think flipboard needs a poetry section. maybe swap out the oprah section.

just a thought.

well anyway I'll just be here on the roof. reading, staring, thinking about starshine.

Sent from my iPad

mexico I love you

Lounging in front of the fire reading A SPANISH LOVER. Earlier though I was out galavanting.

I've decided to move here and become a sign painter.

A 3 table restaurant that is all in one small room. Run by a man from Naples & his charming partner. Freshly prepared pasta & pizza. Each thing prepared just for you. While you wait. You come to San Cristobal you go here. Crazy good. NAPOLI on Ejercito National. Oh...did I fail to mention the Italian expats here?!

Sent from my iPad

Barrio Guadalupe

You'll thank me once we get to the top. Don't worry we'll go slow. The view is, well...awesome.

We're in Barrio Guadalupe today. Scrambling up to the top of a steep hill to see all of the royal city of San Cristobal de Las Casas spread across the hills below. I just know you're going to gasp when you turn around and look out across the valley.

It's okay we can stay for as long as you want. It's a cool day, but you won't need a jacket. The air feels good on your skin flushed from the climb.

Someday maybe you'll want to return. Look! I've already found a posada for you. Nestled in the crook of the hillside.

You'll be just down the hill from the church. Out of the fray.

Let's take our journals inside, sit at a pew, and write for a long time.

We won't be completely alone. A stray little boy might wander over to gaze at the nacimiento. It's so big and bright.

This is Templo de Guadalupe, the most special and beloved patron saint of this barrio. But wait, we aren't finished. There's more to see!

sent by my IPad

Write your heart's most secret prayer on a ribbon

More scenes from inside Templo de Guadalupe.

Where you can write your heart's most secret prayer on a ribbon and tie it on the arm of a special someone who will carry it close.

Sent from my iPad

I'll Take You On A Walk...

A shelf of fog hung over the mountains which made for a very atmospheric stroll...

A crescent moon in a darkening sky. Stars just beginning to bloom.

Plenty of people out enjoying the cool evening.

Another chapter of the book finished.

Sent from my iPad

a post before i go...

blissed out on uncluttered, simple, composition and blocks of color. it's where my camera eye travels to again and again.

after my morning outings i come home and do what i do best. laze about. being in this casita that smells of wood and roasting coffee beans is like living inside a storybook. my wing of the hacienda.

i've been reading the travel journal written by La Duena's great great grandmother, martha. Of a trip she took to spain with her 21 year old granddaughter on the cusp of WW1. it is beautifully written. reflections on the passage of time, continuity, aging, Spanish painters, the perils of train travel. simply fantastic!
sadly, i finished last night. sitting here in a big enveloping chair, my wool shawl over my lap, reading parts out loud.

we have been eating our breakfast inside the last few mornings because it has been cool. the dining room is all massive wood furniture, giant mantle draped with pine boughs, lit with hanging clay pots that have tiny cut-outs so the light fans out like stars on the ceiling, rich carpets over the stone floor, lovely embroidered and woven tablecloths and napkins. has a very spanish colonial hacienda feel to it. just la duena and i at the long wooden table. eating and chatting.

naturally, my imagination is powerless to resist the urge to run away with itself on such a dramatic stage.

found A SPANISH LOVER on a well-stocked bookcase in the casita this morning and started reading.

oh the luxury of putting down one story and walking into another!

it is nearly dusk and i'm setting off on another stroll.

but of course i'll have more to share later! i love your comments. thanks for each and every one. okay...girl reporter off on assignment. talk amongst yourselves.

Sent from my iPad

Dear Orange I Love You

my door!

i dig maps

Back from one color story and off on another. More later!

Sent from my iPad

got hummingbirds?

Sent from my iPad

Bright World

I have turned into a blogging fool! Indulge me. I have just enjoyed a fine x-mas breakfast with my kind hostess which included a sweet gift of chocolate. Was also invited to a Christmas soiree that I shan't attend, but do appreciate the invitation! Instead I'm staying home to immerse myself in the travel diary of La Duena's great great grandmother who took a memorable trip to Spain with her great granddaughter on the eve of WW1. Intoxicated by journals & books. That's me. And later a walkabout through the serpentine streets. I must not let a moment of color pass me by!

Sent from my iPad

Wandering & Finding

Taller Leñateros was mentioned to me by several of you! Which is why I was really happy when I found it purely by accident during one of my wandering sessions this morning. It is literally around the corner from my casita. Where it lay hidden until today...just waiting for me to take that detour.

Not only was I given permission to photograph whatever I wanted, a soft-spoken young man took it upon himself to lead me around and give me a top to bottom tour. You can go on the tour too if you want in the photographs coming up next!


Again, because I can't make links when blogging on the iPad, I'm going to quote directly from their website. I will provide the link when I return to Moss Cottage next week.
~
In the highlands of the southern Mexican state of Chiapas lies the beautiful colonial city of San Cristóbal de Las Casas. In the heart of San Cristóbal is a cooperative artist workshop for making handmade paper and innovative books. Founded in 1975 by Mexican poet Ambar Past, the cooperative seeks to preserve, support and promote Mayan and related culture, mostly in the form of paper, prints and artist books. Over the past 25 years it has produced several landmark books. In many cases the best stories are not only the ones found between the covers but the tales that record how the book came to be important in the first place.
~
We are the woodlanders who walk in the hills gathering dry branches and deadwood from fallen trees, collecting firewood without chopping down the forest. We come down from the mountains, carrying bundles of wood, of pitchpine and split encino for the hearths of the Royal City of San Cristóbal de Las Casas. We walk through the mist, leading our burros, selling firewood from house to house. We knock on people's doors, offering pine needles to spread on the floor, moss, flowers of bromeliads and orchids for manger scenes.
~
Ideas and images come to us in dreams. That is how it is with the Woodlanders: the Moon and the daughters of the Lightning give us dreams to light our way. We recycle our visions to turn them into art; we also reproduce the dreams of others: images from the ancient codices, from pre-Hispanic clay seals, motifs from Mayan embroidery and ceramics. The Earth also inspires us: we photocopy the fossil of the tropical leaf, the texture of a seashell. We relearn hand-printing techniques: xylography, basketography, petalography. We reinvent the unicorn so that its horn will perforate a cardboard pinhole camera, as found in 12th-century Arab documents discovered by the Chiapas alchemist Carlos Jurado, ritual master-counselor of the Woodlanders.
~
Taller Leñateros has created a multi-ethnic space for artists and becoming-artists. We foment artistic creation among the most marginalized communities. The Woodlanders invent, teach and exercise the art of handmade paper, bookbinding, solar silkscreen, woodcuts and natural dyes. We benefit the ecosystem by recycling agricultural and industrial wastes to create crafts and objects of art and rely on the sale of artist books, postcards, posters and printed shirts for our continuing success. We were once servants, washer women, wandering vendors and unemployed. Now we own our own business.Little by little, without subsidies or capitalist partners, pulling ourselves up by the bootstraps, we have been able to buy and constuct the minimal equipment with which we work. We have managed to construct our Workshop with our own hands. The only resource we have had, and the most valuable, has been ourselves and the ideas of the collective, our rural- indigenous folk wisdom.There are places in the highlands where every passerby adds one stone to the cairn, a testimony to her or his presence and journey. The Woodlanders say this how the mountains grow through time. Our work is our stone for the pile, our scale to weigh the years, an offering for the new millenium.~Sent from my iPad

Taller Leñateros

Taller Leñateros is rustic and filled with paper treasures. They do so much here and so much of it with recyled materials.

Everything has a purpose.

A series of prints fresh off the presses!

My young guide hopped on the bike and pedaled to show me how this contraption mixes the flowers with the pulp. Ingenious! This is what, for me, is at the heart of true creativity - problem solving. Figuring things out. Making something from nothing.

A book cover lying in wait.

I bought a few things I'll show you later. Materials I will recycle again for another book.

People are hard at work here contributing to the entire process in important ways.

A mountain of newly made paper ready for printing or bookmaking.

This is their 100 year old press from OHIO!

When you come to San Cristobal de Las Casas put this on your list of places to see!

p.s. I've figured out how to put more than 5 pics in a post. If you want or need to do the same get Video Email App for iPad. It is fantastic!

Sent from my iPad

Christmas Eve Feast!

La duena just sent over my amazing & savory Christmas Eve dinner. Talk about first class service. I feel like a queen! The pine carpet & nacimiento and now gourmet grub. Completely fabulous! When I rented the casita I never expected this kind of treatment. I am very touched by such kindness. sigh.

I have no idea what I just ate, remember this is the person who thought duck was pork tenderlin in Budapest. Let's just call it heaven on a plate.

It's Christmas Eve! The fireworks have started. I'm brewing some rich Chiapas coffee, lighting a fire and will be journaling, blogging, and reading until the wee hours.

I went somewhere special today {inadvertently} and will be writing about that later tonight and posting. Girl reporter is happily on duty and enjoying every minute of it!

Merry Christmas Eve from San Cristobal de Las Casas to wherever in this big wide world you happen to be!
xo

Sent from my iPad

argentine empanadas

crazy delicious

Sent from my iPad

little nacimientos everywhere

Christmas in San Cristobal de Las Casas seems more focused on the birth of Jesus than on consumer consumption. There are very few American tourists this time of year, but there are a lot of Mexican families from other cities and states. I love sitting in el parque (zocalo) on a bench and watching everyone coming and going.

I had a lovely time today when I took a wrong turn looking for some Argentine empanadas and wandered into the middle of an exhibit of nacimientos de navidad. Nativity dioramas! Lots of them.

And lots of families visiting them, laughing, pointing to this and that. The children and parents in a state of pure delight. I stood behind them silently taking in their joy.

One diorama was easily 200 sq. feet large! Set behind glass it was nearly all of the village of Bethlehem. Complete with rabbits, turtles, ducks, camels, sheep. Tiny houses with kitchens, stoves, elaborately constructed miniature furniture...EVERYTHING! And...a starry sky that turned from night to dawn to dusk! Magical & enchanting.

Shelley Noble I thought of you. You would have loved it!

I can't create links when blogging from my iPad, but go to Notes From Halfland in my sidebar to see the small worlds Shelley builds.

Earlier in the day I found myself in a church and before I knew it the church had filled and a wedding had begun. I was kind of stuck. Like when you accidently wind up in a funeral procession of cars. Like that. Then a fine band of mariachis started playing, the bride & groom walked down the aisle. I stood I sat I stood I sat with the rest of the congregation in their finest evening slash wedding wear. I crept out of my pew past 2 young ladies wearing dangerously high heels and made it to safety. Whew. All the way to the back of the church where 3 Mayan women stood taking a picture with a pink cell phone. What the hell, I thought, and took my camera out and snapped a picture too.

Then I went to the Amber Museum next door.
Headed to the bathroom.
Took one look in the mirror and let out a squeal.
My long sleeve button down shirt was inside out, the big washing instruction tag sticking out near my hip.

An hour later I was headed for home. My shirt right-side out. A bag of hot Argentine empandas swinging from my hand.
It's a good life, this one. I'm glad you're along for the ride.

Sent from my iPad

where i attend a wedding on accident

Sent from my iPad

Friday Street Art

a mayan woman tied this around me and adjusted in a manner she thought fitting before i could protest.

next time we have a blackout in LA and the heat goes out this big wooly shawl should keep me warm.

Sent from my iPad

the explorers club

I went to a museum today. When I got home I uploaded pics and noticed that Franz Blom's member card was renewed the year I was born. This was Thing 1 that excited me.

Thing 2 was sinking into LIVING MAYA during my mid-day siesta and becoming so engrossed, so deeply riveted by all I was reading. So much so that I didn't even notice that just outside on my terrace a thick carpet of pine needles were being carefully spread over every square inch of floor. When i came-to and stepped outside I felt like a kid who sees snow for the first time. I walked over the pine needles in a trance. And that was Thing 3.

But back to Thing 2: Here is what I read...a bit of history quoted liberally (nearly entirely) from LIVING MAYA by Walter F. Morris, Jr.

The Highlands of Chiapas rise sharp and isolate above the tropics. At night the stars shine close and cold, and at dawn fog surrounds the sacred mountains and steep cornfields. As the sun rises, the volcanic peaks loom above the clouds like islands dreaming of the sea.

Within each mountain dwells an earthlord, the mythical being who directs the clouds, the rain, and the riches of the earth.

Just below the summit of MOSS mountain, the most sacred mountain of the Highlands, three cross shrines mark the entrance to three small caves. Crosses are gateways to the earthlord's underworld domain. The shrines are to the Holy Ancestors who are the supernatural elders of each community. They watch over their people, punishing those who deviate from tradition, and teach shamans how to restore the well-being of lost souls.

When the Spanish entered the scene in the 16th century the Maya in this region were at war with the Chipanec. The Maya joined the Spaniards to defeat their enemies. Once the Spanish conquered the Chipanec however, and renamed the province of Chiapas after them, they marched up to the Highlands and promptly enslaved the Maya.

Chiapas history might have followed the same tragic path as the rest of Latin America had it not been for the intervention of the remarkable first bishop of Chiapas, Fray Bartolome de Las Casas. He convinced the Spanish king to free the Chiapas Maya, ban the conquistadores from Maya lands, and permit the Dominicans to convert the Maya peacefully to the True Faith. It was a noble experiment that succeeded in protecting the Maya of this region from some of the worst abuses of the conquest while convincing them to adopt the Catholic religions as their own. Ironically, Chiapas Maya Catholicism retains the music, pageantry, and devotional rites introduced in the 16th century. Many of the rituals and beliefs that appear most exotic to observers are actually customs that were practiced 400 years ago in Spain!

Thing 4 was going to the Na Bolom Museum which is where all the photos in this post were born.

You'll excuse my unbridled enthusiasm. It really cannot be helped.

Sent from my iPad

Where I Am Given The Gift Of Pine

When la duena mentioned setting up a little nacimiento at my casita I had NO IDEA she meant this! Neither did my friend Nancy.

My very own pine Christmas carpet!

!!!!!!!!

A small tour of the back of the casita peeking in through the kitchen windows.

My private back entrance.

Sent from my iPad

Food Glorious Food

unfortunately food photographed at night is dull. but let me assure you that the taste was very thrilling. below we have quesadillas. 2 different kind - picadillo & chorizo con papas. just prior to ordering these i had a verde chicharron & a tinta taco. sometimes i like to order things i haven't had before and see what arrives. this was 2+2+2 night. the other part of the equation were 2 cold coronas. delish.

the night before i ordered pollo molcajete. it's one of those things you order that makes everyone at the other tables look at you and wonder where the other 8 people who are sharing this with you have gone. just for me!

this came with it.

mmmmmmmmmmmm.....i'm out the door this second to forage for food. we'll see what i come up with!

Sent from my iPad

Barbie Visits Zinacatan!

Sent from my iPad

ZINACATAN

Here are scenes from another Tzotzil village called Zinacatan. They speak the same language as the CHAMULANS, but there are many differences in culture. Men take only 1 wife here, their church is still in good standing with the Vatican and resembles a traditional Catholic church slightly more. It has pews, there are no healing chicken sacrifices performed by shaman, no candles melting into the floor, no pine needles covering the floor and no Zinacantecans inside. Their religious statues are adorned with thousands of flowers which cover every inch of the statues except the face and parts of the body. Bright & beautiful. Although their brand of Catholicism is more closely aligned with church teachings they are polytheistic like the Chamulans. and of course no cameras allowed inside.
The 2 indigenous groups are cordial to each other and occasionally there is intermarrying.
As in San Juan Chamula, our guide took us into a home where we got a better picture of daily life. We saw women weaving cloth, making tortillas, tending fires.  



I loved seeing evidence of ordinary life being lived. Here, as in Moss Cottage, there are dishes to be washed.



The Zinacantecan women wear completely different clothing. different colors, and no black furry skirts. Theirs are made of cotton. Both groups of women NEVER cut their hair. I saw many women with large buns nearly on their foreheads. They wear it this way after it is washed so their backs don't get wet or cold.









I spied this gorgeous handmade shawl casually tossed over a clothesline. These are part of the womens' daily dress when they leave their houses. A trained eye can tell which tribe of indigenous people the women belong to by noting their clothing. Cesar told us that this sameness in dress keeps the tribal identity intact. There is a sense that everyone belongs to one another. What is done to one is done to all. Members of both groups are expelled from the community if they join one of the Mormon, Jehovah Witness, or Protestant churches which come to this area to evangelize.  





The men of both groups of indigenous Tzotzil also wear different clothes. The hat below is worn by men.



Here in Zinacatan I saw many greenhouses spread across their small valley. They grow many flowers both for income and rituals.



"Thus, the Tzotzil town of Zinacantan is surrounded by seven 'bathing places' of mountain-dwelling ancestors, with one of these sacred waterholes serving as the residence of the ancestors' 'nursemaids and laundresses'.[1]As in the pre-Hispanic past, an important part of ritual takes place in or near such landmarks, in Yucatán also around karstic sinkholes (cenotes)."

I am so deeply fascinated by what I am learning. I want to devour every book ( there are so many!) in my casita on Mayan culture when I arrive home for my mid-day siesta.



Other worlds. Other lives.



Cesar, our guide pointed out that polytheistic people are much more tolerant of people's differences than monotheistic. He was referring to all of the evangelizers who have come into Chiapas, both past and present, with intentions of knocking some religious sense into the indigenous people. He also shared that many fundamentalist christian groups continue to come to these areas to "help", but it seems like many have an agenda related to CHANGING those pesky & resistant Mayan beliefs.  

Sent from my iPad