no great book will be written about it. no film starring marlon brando. songs about it will not be sung. it won´t be painted, sculpted or otherwise kept for posterity.
it just happened. one day. for a while.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
jazz a la mexicana
on the beach, a recurring moment.
they arrive at night. canciones tradicionales de veracruuuuuz...! and the most tuneless guitar i´ve ever heard breaks the silence. dogs howl, cats scurry away, even the insects disappear and shut up for a moment. in disbelief.
gogo! coco! this song doesn´t make any sense at all, is veracruz so insane? but they make me smile. so with pleasure, at the end, to send them away and wish them back tomorrow, i give them a coin, at la dolce vita.
different scene, different bar. la revolución. cool mexican jazz band. grooving away. the crowd want more. i sit. listen. think. think too much. off to the circus.
live reggae, latin rhythms, frantic dancing, dreadlocks shaking, margarita, caipirinha, you dance so well, don´t leave now, international fraternity, hip-hop queen, mexican madness.
so with pleasure, at the end, to send me away and wish me back tomorrow, they give me a smile, at the circus.
they arrive at night. canciones tradicionales de veracruuuuuz...! and the most tuneless guitar i´ve ever heard breaks the silence. dogs howl, cats scurry away, even the insects disappear and shut up for a moment. in disbelief.
gogo! coco! this song doesn´t make any sense at all, is veracruz so insane? but they make me smile. so with pleasure, at the end, to send them away and wish them back tomorrow, i give them a coin, at la dolce vita.
different scene, different bar. la revolución. cool mexican jazz band. grooving away. the crowd want more. i sit. listen. think. think too much. off to the circus.
live reggae, latin rhythms, frantic dancing, dreadlocks shaking, margarita, caipirinha, you dance so well, don´t leave now, international fraternity, hip-hop queen, mexican madness.
so with pleasure, at the end, to send me away and wish me back tomorrow, they give me a smile, at the circus.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
crosses, coca cola and chickens
a cemetery by an abandonded church built from the stones of a nearby temple.
this is milk-coffee religion. maya coffee meets catholic milk.
the crosses on the tumbs, like the churches, face east, towards jerusalem, or towards the sunrise. take your pick. are you more maya or more catholic?
prosaically, the crosses show the way to heaven. up, of course! and just so you don´t get lost, we´ll add more crosses to your grave every year, when we come to visit on the day of the dead.
come to the town, we´re having a fiesta. you can visit the church, but please no pictures of our holy men.
incense in the air, palm leaves on the wall, pine needles lining the floor. music blaring, fireworks cracking. we´ll drink some coca cola as we say our prayers, so we can burp the bad energy away.
today we won´t kill the chicken. only san juan gets the chicken, for santa rosa, just candles.
a man falls of his chair, children ask for pens, a peso for a photo, drink some holy spirit!, shirts and blankets, fruits, will you buy one?, smoke fills the air, holy men sing and dance, women smile with golden teeth, what do you like?
welcome to san juan de chamula.
Sunday, August 28, 2005
things i have got over during this trip
1 - shyness about asking for directions. gotta keep moving...
2 - fear of street food. delicious.
3 - men, mexican men in particular. they´re a pain in the ass, i´m over them!
4 - lying on the sand while still wet. the sand just washes away, nothing to worry about.
5 - bugs (excluding flies & mosquitoes). they will inherit the earth, might as well make friends!
6 - coming soon
2 - fear of street food. delicious.
3 - men, mexican men in particular. they´re a pain in the ass, i´m over them!
4 - lying on the sand while still wet. the sand just washes away, nothing to worry about.
5 - bugs (excluding flies & mosquitoes). they will inherit the earth, might as well make friends!
6 - coming soon
monte albán
the people lived in the valleys below. the priests wanted to watch over them.
they flattened a mountain, to create a stage. they built enourmous edifices to house their knowledge. the blue astronomy building, the red medicine building, the green religion building...
in the centre an altar. the people from the valleys would come to watch the show. the priests could harness the light of the sun on the 8th of May, they would cure illnesses with the laser-like beam of sunshine.
a field was created for pelota games, the ball representing the stars, the players life, death, gods. the winners would get the ultimate prize: fast-track to the heavens through painless death.
too proud to mingle with the people, the priests only mated with each other. deformed, ill, unsuitable, eventually they all died out.
and the people, in search for religion, abandoned the valley to nature and the uncomprehending conquistadores.
they flattened a mountain, to create a stage. they built enourmous edifices to house their knowledge. the blue astronomy building, the red medicine building, the green religion building...
in the centre an altar. the people from the valleys would come to watch the show. the priests could harness the light of the sun on the 8th of May, they would cure illnesses with the laser-like beam of sunshine.
a field was created for pelota games, the ball representing the stars, the players life, death, gods. the winners would get the ultimate prize: fast-track to the heavens through painless death.
too proud to mingle with the people, the priests only mated with each other. deformed, ill, unsuitable, eventually they all died out.
and the people, in search for religion, abandoned the valley to nature and the uncomprehending conquistadores.
sleepless
insect-fear, crab-fear, theft-fear, wind-fear, waves-fear, rape-fear, mosquito-fear, loneliness-fear,...
one of them is going to get you.
one of them is going to get you.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
zoological findings
walking down the road, and armadillo walks past me in the dark.
try to take the camera out, am surprised by a huge, black butterfly flitting past my head.
a few steps further, a dragon lizard, head like a lady´s red fan, scuttles to the top of a restaurant sign. the restaurant called the armadillo.
as i try to get back home, i surprise a bright red crab, hiding in the bricks.
as i write these words, i am covered in moths, bugs, mosquitos...
try to take the camera out, am surprised by a huge, black butterfly flitting past my head.
a few steps further, a dragon lizard, head like a lady´s red fan, scuttles to the top of a restaurant sign. the restaurant called the armadillo.
as i try to get back home, i surprise a bright red crab, hiding in the bricks.
as i write these words, i am covered in moths, bugs, mosquitos...
cycles
mazunte beach is lovely. the jungle presence behind you. in front, the waves come in, strong, steady.
this water will not pull you in. it will push you out, reject you, protect you from its inner workings. from the darkness within.
this water will not pull you in. it will push you out, reject you, protect you from its inner workings. from the darkness within.
Friday, August 26, 2005
native wisdom
all plants and trees are named in a logical way. the name refers to the function or the appearance of the thing, so noone is left in doubt.
the bark of the amate tree, yellow, smooth and strong is used for making paper. some ancient history was found written in amante scrolls.
the organo liso, tall and straight and thornless is used for making lazy, pretty fences, to keep them in or out, as the case may be.
the mala mujer is potent. it makes pregnant women miscarry.
the agave, maguey, is the core of the dream inducing mezcal. cooked, fermented, distilled, made into enlightenment.
then there´s ichi-tachi, el arbol del matrimonio. this tree is covered in vicious, two-inch thorns, hidden behind innocent-looking leaves.
it flowers spectaculary: passionate, beautiful, breathtaking flowers.
the logic says that the thorns represent the rough times, the flowers the good moments. its flowering season, for now, is over.
the bark of the amate tree, yellow, smooth and strong is used for making paper. some ancient history was found written in amante scrolls.
the organo liso, tall and straight and thornless is used for making lazy, pretty fences, to keep them in or out, as the case may be.
the mala mujer is potent. it makes pregnant women miscarry.
the agave, maguey, is the core of the dream inducing mezcal. cooked, fermented, distilled, made into enlightenment.
then there´s ichi-tachi, el arbol del matrimonio. this tree is covered in vicious, two-inch thorns, hidden behind innocent-looking leaves.
it flowers spectaculary: passionate, beautiful, breathtaking flowers.
the logic says that the thorns represent the rough times, the flowers the good moments. its flowering season, for now, is over.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
water/blood/mezcal
the widest tree in the world sits in judgement by the church. it´s 2000 years old. old enough to know better. old enough not to care too much.
an ancient civilizations leaves its mark on this earth. mitla. the place of the dead. a place where the old elite where sent to pasture, amongst beautiful mosaics and breathtaking views. the walls coloured red, from uranium, not blood. the tunnels are carved so priests can make their fantastic, mysterious appearances, to the amazement of the crowds. the spanish think these people are catholics because they have crosses on their walls. how simple, how different things could have been if moctezuma hadn´t believed the presages...
a mixtec makes a rug, violent colours splashing everywhere. a snake slithers across a slithery road, rain falls, sun shines, a million eagles sore into the sky. hierve el agua. the water boils out from the centre of the earth. this earth that used to be the bottom of the sea, and still looks like it. waves of mountains coming at you, besieging you.
i should have known to worry when the girl put a thousand different chiles in a blender to make my lunch, a nasty bite appears on my foot, bleeding, and my neck develops an incredible rash.
still, i survive, but fall at the next hurdle. the agave, the maguey, core of the drink to end all drinks. straight into your soul, makes you see the things you hide inside.
markets and churches
chile, chocolate, fruits, chapulines, moles, tamales. yellow, red, blue, green, orange.
the market bustled with people selling, buying, begging, singing...you could buy anything you wanted: shoes, hats, shirts, meat, veg, mobile phones.
at the meat stalls, you could point at a slab of meat, have it cooked and thrown in a basket, then you could move on to the next stall to get your playeras, then on to the next for your mole, salsa...
but i was too shy to ask how it all worked, so i just sat down in a corner, very like mercado del puerto, sitting at a bar, eating my lunch, pretending to read my book, and working out the system. next time i´ll be ready.
a child sat next to me and we played hide and seek for a while, him behind the servilletes, me behind my book. children in mexico seem to have a complete fascination with the cover of my book: a gory skull in reds and oranges. it figures, i suppose.
in the afternoon went to a museum in a convent. precolombian art, clash of cultures.
the rain caught me again. i can´t work it out!
the market bustled with people selling, buying, begging, singing...you could buy anything you wanted: shoes, hats, shirts, meat, veg, mobile phones.
at the meat stalls, you could point at a slab of meat, have it cooked and thrown in a basket, then you could move on to the next stall to get your playeras, then on to the next for your mole, salsa...
but i was too shy to ask how it all worked, so i just sat down in a corner, very like mercado del puerto, sitting at a bar, eating my lunch, pretending to read my book, and working out the system. next time i´ll be ready.
a child sat next to me and we played hide and seek for a while, him behind the servilletes, me behind my book. children in mexico seem to have a complete fascination with the cover of my book: a gory skull in reds and oranges. it figures, i suppose.
in the afternoon went to a museum in a convent. precolombian art, clash of cultures.
the rain caught me again. i can´t work it out!
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
oaxaca nights
after finding a hotel -- suitably close to the "neuróticos anónimos" society, headed off the the zócalo, for a spot of coffee and people-watching.
the rain started falling, as usual, instantly. as if someone up above just turns a tap and leaves it running for a while, to clear the pipes of the day´s detritus.
a group of men run across the zócalo like a herd of wild horses, laughing and jumping in the rain, direction unknown. children come from their hideaways, selling umbrellas instantly sourced from god-knows-where.
i read my book, and wonder, as ever, if there were hidden intentions in the suggestion i read it. like when "are you ready to be heartbroken" was the first song to play in a tape borrowed long time ago...and my, wasn´t i not ready.
the rain abates. i run back to the hotel for rainproof clothing. fancy going to the cinema nearby, but find the latest showing is unsuitable for nice girls, consisting, as it does, of "nice girls" being "nice" itself. no wonder the sweet drugstore asistant giggled and blushed when i asked him for directions!
deprived of cultural activities, i wondered around, in the drizzle. unconcerned. this town is perfect for suarezes and plesters, i decide. every other shop, a shoe shop. every other corner, a hot dog cart. and what hot dogs! wrapped in bacon, covered in cheese, served with onions, salsa, mole...he´d be in heaven.
myself i settle for a lovely tiny stall, and get tostadas de pollo. a little girl watches me, smiles and plays with the bottle tops of millions of refresco bottles. i used to do that once ago. sit, play, smile. simple things.
the rain started falling, as usual, instantly. as if someone up above just turns a tap and leaves it running for a while, to clear the pipes of the day´s detritus.
a group of men run across the zócalo like a herd of wild horses, laughing and jumping in the rain, direction unknown. children come from their hideaways, selling umbrellas instantly sourced from god-knows-where.
i read my book, and wonder, as ever, if there were hidden intentions in the suggestion i read it. like when "are you ready to be heartbroken" was the first song to play in a tape borrowed long time ago...and my, wasn´t i not ready.
the rain abates. i run back to the hotel for rainproof clothing. fancy going to the cinema nearby, but find the latest showing is unsuitable for nice girls, consisting, as it does, of "nice girls" being "nice" itself. no wonder the sweet drugstore asistant giggled and blushed when i asked him for directions!
deprived of cultural activities, i wondered around, in the drizzle. unconcerned. this town is perfect for suarezes and plesters, i decide. every other shop, a shoe shop. every other corner, a hot dog cart. and what hot dogs! wrapped in bacon, covered in cheese, served with onions, salsa, mole...he´d be in heaven.
myself i settle for a lovely tiny stall, and get tostadas de pollo. a little girl watches me, smiles and plays with the bottle tops of millions of refresco bottles. i used to do that once ago. sit, play, smile. simple things.
Monday, August 22, 2005
in the heart of a family
yesterday, i popped out of the prision like a cork out of a champagne bottle: directionless, but full of excitement.
how much can happen in the space of a few hours! i made a new friend, a met a new family, i fell in love with another city.
at rocio´s house, people kept coming in, staying, leaving, coming back. exchanging gossip, greetings, profound statements amongst the vases, paintings, and clouds of cigarette smoke. and i was part of it for a while. taken in, included.
rocio bided her time, watched, listened, and then, easily, casually, she said i should come and stay with her when i´m back in Mexico City. i´m so happy. it´s little things that make all the difference. and of course now i love mexicans head over heels.
5 hours, 1 cactus forest, 1000 mountains, 10000 tropical trees, and a bus ride later, i´m in Oaxaca. ready to go.
how much can happen in the space of a few hours! i made a new friend, a met a new family, i fell in love with another city.
at rocio´s house, people kept coming in, staying, leaving, coming back. exchanging gossip, greetings, profound statements amongst the vases, paintings, and clouds of cigarette smoke. and i was part of it for a while. taken in, included.
rocio bided her time, watched, listened, and then, easily, casually, she said i should come and stay with her when i´m back in Mexico City. i´m so happy. it´s little things that make all the difference. and of course now i love mexicans head over heels.
5 hours, 1 cactus forest, 1000 mountains, 10000 tropical trees, and a bus ride later, i´m in Oaxaca. ready to go.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
gastronomic echo
the cocoyoc diet:
breakfast: eggs and coffee, keep a bit of bread for later on
lunch: undescript starter, watery soup, tastless unrecognizable meat dish, airplane dessert. leave untouched, keep a bit of bread for later on. occasional guacamole sightings provide welcome relief.
dinner: as per lunch, minus undescript starter.
wash down with endless amounts of stolen tequila, venezuelan rum or exotic african concotions.
mix well, repeat at infinitum.
breakfast: eggs and coffee, keep a bit of bread for later on
lunch: undescript starter, watery soup, tastless unrecognizable meat dish, airplane dessert. leave untouched, keep a bit of bread for later on. occasional guacamole sightings provide welcome relief.
dinner: as per lunch, minus undescript starter.
wash down with endless amounts of stolen tequila, venezuelan rum or exotic african concotions.
mix well, repeat at infinitum.
the morning after the night before
i was woken up at 5am, the phone ringing on and on.
i thought it was him, but then i knew it wouldn't be.
a voice says i should be on the coach, my flight leaves soon. i'm confused. is it me that should be flying or him? it's not me, it's definitely not me. so i say, it's not me. the voice retreats back into the darkness.
i woke again later, back in the state i had been in before i left. then i knew a mistake had been made. an email had gone too late.
communication reestablished by more traditional means has cleared up a way forward. i stay, he stays. nobody moves, for now. i'm sad, but happy, happy that i feel normal again. happy that we can laugh together.
cocoyoc prison doors are now open and i must find a way out.
adventure beckons.
mexico's a big country.
i thought it was him, but then i knew it wouldn't be.
a voice says i should be on the coach, my flight leaves soon. i'm confused. is it me that should be flying or him? it's not me, it's definitely not me. so i say, it's not me. the voice retreats back into the darkness.
i woke again later, back in the state i had been in before i left. then i knew a mistake had been made. an email had gone too late.
communication reestablished by more traditional means has cleared up a way forward. i stay, he stays. nobody moves, for now. i'm sad, but happy, happy that i feel normal again. happy that we can laugh together.
cocoyoc prison doors are now open and i must find a way out.
adventure beckons.
mexico's a big country.
Saturday, August 20, 2005
can't take my eyes off of you
ok, so the car is gone.
i tried to find a picture of it, to immortalize it in my blog. but no luck.
i'm a bit sad, but i'm sure the car will be just as happy being recycled into something useful, as it was sitting outside our home. waiting.
i tried to find a picture of it, to immortalize it in my blog. but no luck.
i'm a bit sad, but i'm sure the car will be just as happy being recycled into something useful, as it was sitting outside our home. waiting.
cacique rum
i'm in the office, drinking some rum and blogging while the bosses read the reports and make some final, anal corrections.
the rain has started falling again. unsurprisingly. constants are a good thing in life.
yesterday we escaped the prison, for a night in Tepoztlan. on the way over, as we climbed the mountains, on taxis driven by crazed mexicans, the mountains looked like giant green teeth, to eat and to be eaten. lush with tropical life.
we went to a restaurant perched on the mountains. the full moon came out to watch, as we drank sangritas and tequilas -- herrero blanco, nothing else will do.
melvin wanted to talk. he talked and smoked and drank. and after a while, i had him down. small faces, dylan, bit of tropicalia, madness but only to dance to, charlie parker, gillespie, jazzman core. he's going to cuba. he's got £2m. he's the finance director. i said, 2m...we can do something with that in cuba! he's not interested, just wants to hang out in jazz clubs. he'll have a great time, i'm sure.
back to the hotel, racing down the highway. one of the taxi drivers had a mini-tv in the car, which he was watching as the car sped down the mountain.
our own driver, pointed out the sights as he talked on his mobile and discussed with us the relative heights of our respective countries.
7000m high, he points to a cloud in the sky.
it's not a cloud. it's the volcano, breathing ash that the locals have to sweep off their rooftops everyday, so the sky doesn't fall in on them.
the rain has started falling again. unsurprisingly. constants are a good thing in life.
yesterday we escaped the prison, for a night in Tepoztlan. on the way over, as we climbed the mountains, on taxis driven by crazed mexicans, the mountains looked like giant green teeth, to eat and to be eaten. lush with tropical life.
we went to a restaurant perched on the mountains. the full moon came out to watch, as we drank sangritas and tequilas -- herrero blanco, nothing else will do.
melvin wanted to talk. he talked and smoked and drank. and after a while, i had him down. small faces, dylan, bit of tropicalia, madness but only to dance to, charlie parker, gillespie, jazzman core. he's going to cuba. he's got £2m. he's the finance director. i said, 2m...we can do something with that in cuba! he's not interested, just wants to hang out in jazz clubs. he'll have a great time, i'm sure.
back to the hotel, racing down the highway. one of the taxi drivers had a mini-tv in the car, which he was watching as the car sped down the mountain.
our own driver, pointed out the sights as he talked on his mobile and discussed with us the relative heights of our respective countries.
7000m high, he points to a cloud in the sky.
it's not a cloud. it's the volcano, breathing ash that the locals have to sweep off their rooftops everyday, so the sky doesn't fall in on them.
Friday, August 19, 2005
human attraction
the waiters and hotel staff smiled as i walked by.
girls from around the world stopped on their tracks and said "hello".
the man from puerto rico kept asking for one more dance.
the englishman shuffled coyly in front of me looking at the floor.
the arabic delegations sat next to the dancefloor and watched as i danced.
the gay man who has sat next to me for the last 2 years walked straight up, and immediately said, in passing, he was feeling horny.
before i left the room, the romanian demanded i decide if i go with him to the pacific or not. make up your mind, i'm not waiting around...
the man from zambia told me that he loved me, in spanish, under the moon. he asked if i understood. i said i did.
tequila, rum, pisco...the latin party was on, and everybody was happy.
and the next morning, as people discussed the latest human rights concerns, i walked by to catch stolen looks full of questions and desire.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
lazy days
it's a lazy day. work is nearly finished. nothing left to do. have offered to help others but so far unsuccessfully.
so, lounging by the pool seems to be the only option.
and maybe a shopping trip to the big metropolis. cocoyoc. 6000 inhabitants.
let the emails fly around the globe and do their damage.
so, lounging by the pool seems to be the only option.
and maybe a shopping trip to the big metropolis. cocoyoc. 6000 inhabitants.
let the emails fly around the globe and do their damage.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
happiness and relativity
it's amazing how your concept of happy can change from one day to the next, from one minute to the next even.
our working party was meant to have 4 sessions, 1 on tuesday, 2 today, 1 on thursday. amazingly, we finished all discussions today, just before the end of session 2. democracy at work (efficiently for once!)
now on my way to the pool, we'll worry about writing the report another time, for now i'm just going to enjoy this little bit of trivial happiness.
get it wherever you can, i say!
our working party was meant to have 4 sessions, 1 on tuesday, 2 today, 1 on thursday. amazingly, we finished all discussions today, just before the end of session 2. democracy at work (efficiently for once!)
now on my way to the pool, we'll worry about writing the report another time, for now i'm just going to enjoy this little bit of trivial happiness.
get it wherever you can, i say!
voodoo lounge
last night it didn't rain. so instead i cried myself.
having worked all day until midnight, went to the party for some well-earned drink. but it was too much. there's too much fog in my head already, no need for drink to cloud things even more.
i had promised, though, a big party entrance. a new dress to be premiered. contact lenses at the ready. serious secretary image shed.
my roommate went to find me in the bedroom: "what are you doing here, girl? come out to party". and so in order not to rain myself to sleep, i go for the promised grand entrance: there i am, the only girl in her pajamas in the whole party!
the DJ leaves at 1am. uncharacteristically punctual. not to worry. the tech team can not only organize simultaneous translations, multiple screens and fancy displays, but they can also source a couple of speakers, move the crowd to go back to their rooms for all their CDs and get the party back on track in under 10minutes.
the latin quarter showed its strenght, and the sounds of cumbia, salsa, rock argentino and candombe dominated until 5am
a man zooms in on me. a man from zambia. he says he sees i am in need, not want. he says i will find out what i need and i will have it, because my need is great. he says what it is it is and he has learnt that he needs to says what he feels. brutally. to avoid heartache later on. he says he doesn't want to hurt women anymore, because only women can really love.
i go back to bed and cry some more.
having worked all day until midnight, went to the party for some well-earned drink. but it was too much. there's too much fog in my head already, no need for drink to cloud things even more.
i had promised, though, a big party entrance. a new dress to be premiered. contact lenses at the ready. serious secretary image shed.
my roommate went to find me in the bedroom: "what are you doing here, girl? come out to party". and so in order not to rain myself to sleep, i go for the promised grand entrance: there i am, the only girl in her pajamas in the whole party!
the DJ leaves at 1am. uncharacteristically punctual. not to worry. the tech team can not only organize simultaneous translations, multiple screens and fancy displays, but they can also source a couple of speakers, move the crowd to go back to their rooms for all their CDs and get the party back on track in under 10minutes.
the latin quarter showed its strenght, and the sounds of cumbia, salsa, rock argentino and candombe dominated until 5am
a man zooms in on me. a man from zambia. he says he sees i am in need, not want. he says i will find out what i need and i will have it, because my need is great. he says what it is it is and he has learnt that he needs to says what he feels. brutally. to avoid heartache later on. he says he doesn't want to hurt women anymore, because only women can really love.
i go back to bed and cry some more.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
the creaky swing bird
evening falls, the daily downpour begins
as meetings go on, we hear clapping sounds, and people rush around carrying papers, radios, mobiles, cigarettes. everybody smokes, runs, smiles crazy stressed out reassuring smiles.
and through it all, the sound begins. creak creak creak. it sounds like swings at a children's playground, creaking in the wind, as they sway, childless and abandoned. but i don't think it is. there are no swings. it must be some bird, that at night, wants to remind us all that once we were children, and the things we do are not so serious or important as our adult, grown old heads would have us believe
as meetings go on, we hear clapping sounds, and people rush around carrying papers, radios, mobiles, cigarettes. everybody smokes, runs, smiles crazy stressed out reassuring smiles.
and through it all, the sound begins. creak creak creak. it sounds like swings at a children's playground, creaking in the wind, as they sway, childless and abandoned. but i don't think it is. there are no swings. it must be some bird, that at night, wants to remind us all that once we were children, and the things we do are not so serious or important as our adult, grown old heads would have us believe
grapefruits or footballs?
wandering around the beautiful hotel. every corner turned presents a beautiful, or intriguing, or amazing sight
the footballs hanging from a tree, the rubber plant growing fully from the roof of the hacienda seemingly without need for roots, the ancient aquaduct around which the building untangles itself
luxury balancing out the hard work
what time is it in mexico?
people keep asking me this question, so for the benefit of the millions, here's how you can find out what time it is where i currently find myself
Monday, August 15, 2005
my bridegroom and other stories
a nearly forgotten story.
this morning whan i got out of the house, a guy from the hotel was standing outside the door talking to someone on a balcony above. as i walk out he pipes in spanish "here comes my bride!"
i think to myself, i can leave it and pretend i can't understand (obviously i must look like a gringo these days...) or i can be a little cruel...and so i go "good morning!" in my most latin american accent!
he's flustered but tries to recover, calling me madam and such things. i decide to be nice again and pretend i've no idea what he's on about. instead i ask him about the explosions.
what explosions, he says. i tell him about it and he says, oh yes, that's the fiesta in the pueblo. but then thinks again and decides to gift me with a fairytale: the people from the pueblo, he says are afraid of the rain, and so in order to shoo it away, they fire rockets to the clouds all night long. the rain, put off, retreats for the morning, but always comes back after dark. but that doesn't matter, we say in unison, it can rain all it likes in the night!
this morning whan i got out of the house, a guy from the hotel was standing outside the door talking to someone on a balcony above. as i walk out he pipes in spanish "here comes my bride!"
i think to myself, i can leave it and pretend i can't understand (obviously i must look like a gringo these days...) or i can be a little cruel...and so i go "good morning!" in my most latin american accent!
he's flustered but tries to recover, calling me madam and such things. i decide to be nice again and pretend i've no idea what he's on about. instead i ask him about the explosions.
what explosions, he says. i tell him about it and he says, oh yes, that's the fiesta in the pueblo. but then thinks again and decides to gift me with a fairytale: the people from the pueblo, he says are afraid of the rain, and so in order to shoo it away, they fire rockets to the clouds all night long. the rain, put off, retreats for the morning, but always comes back after dark. but that doesn't matter, we say in unison, it can rain all it likes in the night!
flames of hope
we were asked to not burn ourselves or any of the other guys and gals.
we were organized into a candle shaped mass of people.
we smiled for the camera and nobody blinked.
ahhh
crickets, cockroaches, rockets
i ended up last night completely exhausted. the jetlagged finally catching up with me.
i did manage to go to the launch party, and sampled some of the finnish vodka flown straight in for the occassion. but very early, defeated, i went to bed.
go in the toilet, turn on the light, scuttle scuttle scuttle...ahhh the forgotten, familiar sight of the all latinamerican cockroach!
i'd forgotten what it can be like at night when you're not in the city. it's twenty times noisier. crickets chirruping, a bizarre tweet rithmically going off. and also the rockets. boom! boom! boom! it was a fiesta for some virgin or other (or is there only one of them?) and the locals just went all night long, firing their rockets even in the middle of the nightly rainstorm.
at last woke up to a sunny day, only to find out i'm on "backup minuting" duty, so here i am, minuting away, playing with the powerpoint presentation and joshing with the boss, while the sun -- i'm sure -- is laughing at us out there
i did manage to go to the launch party, and sampled some of the finnish vodka flown straight in for the occassion. but very early, defeated, i went to bed.
go in the toilet, turn on the light, scuttle scuttle scuttle...ahhh the forgotten, familiar sight of the all latinamerican cockroach!
i'd forgotten what it can be like at night when you're not in the city. it's twenty times noisier. crickets chirruping, a bizarre tweet rithmically going off. and also the rockets. boom! boom! boom! it was a fiesta for some virgin or other (or is there only one of them?) and the locals just went all night long, firing their rockets even in the middle of the nightly rainstorm.
at last woke up to a sunny day, only to find out i'm on "backup minuting" duty, so here i am, minuting away, playing with the powerpoint presentation and joshing with the boss, while the sun -- i'm sure -- is laughing at us out there
meetings are stranger than travelling
what a day!
after wandering around the hotel and feeling a little directionless, the meetings started to happen. first a housekeeping meeting, to remind us to be discreet and enthusiastic in equal measures. then the plenary, where the insides of the organisation started to be displayed.
a couple of us escaped the hotel for a 5 minute walk around the 6000 people town. at least it was a walk in freedom, outside the luxury prison walls!
then the question time panel. this was cool, with interesting people discussing interesting issues. even if it all felt a bit introspective...
flames were lit, photographs were taken. dinner was served. the rumor is that in order to protect the weaker tummies, the chef had been ordered to provide the blandest food he could provide: he took his brief seriously, and dinner was an even less tasty affair than lunch had been. let's hope the rumor is just a rumor, and the chef was just having an off day....!
just finished the first meeting for my group, and fear has seeped right into my bones. it's going to be a loooong week.
after wandering around the hotel and feeling a little directionless, the meetings started to happen. first a housekeeping meeting, to remind us to be discreet and enthusiastic in equal measures. then the plenary, where the insides of the organisation started to be displayed.
a couple of us escaped the hotel for a 5 minute walk around the 6000 people town. at least it was a walk in freedom, outside the luxury prison walls!
then the question time panel. this was cool, with interesting people discussing interesting issues. even if it all felt a bit introspective...
flames were lit, photographs were taken. dinner was served. the rumor is that in order to protect the weaker tummies, the chef had been ordered to provide the blandest food he could provide: he took his brief seriously, and dinner was an even less tasty affair than lunch had been. let's hope the rumor is just a rumor, and the chef was just having an off day....!
just finished the first meeting for my group, and fear has seeped right into my bones. it's going to be a loooong week.
Sunday, August 14, 2005
travelling is weird
here i am at last in mexico.
the journey has been quite strange. driving to the station with anthony, feeling the train moving under my feet, wandering around like a lost soul trying to find someone you're supposed to meet at the airport.
then flying, bump bump. i read a whole book about amnesty in one go. made me think about why i´m doing the things i'm doing at work, how it all connects with who i am.
then huston, flirting with the immigration latino guy (beats getting the completely rude option) he said, "mexico´s a strange country. so long as you are ready to expect anything... i hope you like it". then he made me blink twice so my photo could be registered for the umpteenth time in the usa's massive paranoia database.
and leaving the airport, next to each plane's future "parking" slot a sign: "flight xxx, safe and on time". safe from what?
arrive in mexico, get done at the airport buying a whole lot of roasted onions i don't want. but at least they're nice! and we have to wait 2 hours for the next bus, because -- i guess -- it would be too luxurious to get people that have been flying for almost 24 hours to the hotel so they can rest. they must suffer a little bit more. some on the edge of tears.
and how in the hotel, breakfast had, outline explored, internet cafe identified.
see how the day unfolds
the journey has been quite strange. driving to the station with anthony, feeling the train moving under my feet, wandering around like a lost soul trying to find someone you're supposed to meet at the airport.
then flying, bump bump. i read a whole book about amnesty in one go. made me think about why i´m doing the things i'm doing at work, how it all connects with who i am.
then huston, flirting with the immigration latino guy (beats getting the completely rude option) he said, "mexico´s a strange country. so long as you are ready to expect anything... i hope you like it". then he made me blink twice so my photo could be registered for the umpteenth time in the usa's massive paranoia database.
and leaving the airport, next to each plane's future "parking" slot a sign: "flight xxx, safe and on time". safe from what?
arrive in mexico, get done at the airport buying a whole lot of roasted onions i don't want. but at least they're nice! and we have to wait 2 hours for the next bus, because -- i guess -- it would be too luxurious to get people that have been flying for almost 24 hours to the hotel so they can rest. they must suffer a little bit more. some on the edge of tears.
and how in the hotel, breakfast had, outline explored, internet cafe identified.
see how the day unfolds
Friday, August 12, 2005
one more crazy night in the kitchen
the night before the night before i leave for mexico. sedley's visiting from italy, paul is visiting from richmond. anthony's come from outer space.
i wish photos could have sound sometimes. but not like video. i guess i'll have to learn to do that one day...
i wish photos could have sound sometimes. but not like video. i guess i'll have to learn to do that one day...
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
sombreros y guitarrones
So, I’ve always wanted to travel the world. And in fact, I have done qute a bit of travelling, so I can’t complain really. But the world is a big place, so I’ve got a long way to go…
Next stop: Mexico!
Got the book, got the ticket, got my toothbrush…I’m all set.
See more progress on: travel the world
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
the fruits of summer
every year there are more and more. the summer in england is becoming wholesome!
even if still very unreliable...
one day we'll have enough for some wine, or at least some grape juice !!
even if still very unreliable...
one day we'll have enough for some wine, or at least some grape juice !!
Monday, August 08, 2005
logistics
logistics always stop me from doing what i want to do. or maybe i use logistics as an excuse: ohh can’t do that because i’m doing the other, shouldn’t buy that before that other thing happens.
anyway, i contacted a school today and tentatively asked about the pre-course interview: i’m going on holiday, probably can’t make it, blah blah blah
no luck: they said no problem, just turn up when you’re back from your holiday and we’ll sign you up if you pass the interview…
so there!
See more progress on: take singing lessons
the first step
i have talked to my boss, filled in the form, gone through the process. i am finally on my way to take my sabbatical.
still not sure what’s going to happen, but we’ll see
See more progress on: take a sabbatical
Sunday, August 07, 2005
london night bus
i was coming back home after a night out with ciara, and sat behind this amazing woman. i just had to take her picture. i hope she won't mind too much
to flickr or to fotolog?
it's a bit of a problem. i have been posting my images for a couple of years at fotolog.net. then flickr crops up with all it's wizzy integration and cool open sourcy pages.
what to do? the fotolog community is really cool, lots of latin americans kind of talking to each other with pictures. i really don't want to leave them. but how many photo albums can a woman really have?
i'll let you know when i make a decision
what to do? the fotolog community is really cool, lots of latin americans kind of talking to each other with pictures. i really don't want to leave them. but how many photo albums can a woman really have?
i'll let you know when i make a decision
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