Dia de Los Muertos 2020

 San Antonio Tlayacapan, Jalisco, Mexico

Original Posada Catrina in Oaxaca (we're told)

Almost exactly 3 years ago, we moved to Mexico with a few suitcases and set up shop in San Antonio Tlayacapan, Jalisco. A couple of days after we arrived, we went to a class at LCS (the Lake Chapala Society, the main “gringo” organization here,) taught by Alfredo Perez Aldana, titled “Mock Death, will you!” We learned the story behind the now famous La Calavera Catrina, a cartoon drawn about 1910 by Jose Guadalupe Posada, poking fun at “cultured” Mexicans who were at the time adopting the culture and style of Europeans. La Catrina, or El Catrin (masculino) means “dandy,” and is not a name per se. One of the attributes of that adoption was to try to lighten the skin, making people look like skeletons. Interestingly, this desire for whiteness was also very prevalent in SE Asia, where girls spend small fortunes on skin whitening creams and avoid the sun at all costs. The irony of white people spending time and vacations trying to be “tanned” is rich.

2017 LCS ofrenda

We also learned in the class about the ofrenda, or offering, a sort of altar to honor family members who have passed and welcome them back as special guests. 

The ofrenda has several key components. Cempasuchitl flowers (marigolds), to guide the visiting souls to the ofrenda. Water and salt for the other-worldly visitors, as well as favorite foods and drinks, often mole and tequila, or pizza and soda for the kids. The sweet, orange-scented bread of the dead, is usual, as well as brightly painted sugar skulls (not edible, really.) Copal incense is lit to carry prayers to the heavens, and of course, photos of the departed. 

We have a slightly-Buddhist version in our Mexican home (wherever we are,) for our moms, with a small bell and incense, and we add the flower petals at this time of year. This year a full marigold plant!

Bali offerings on the steps

The tradition is very similar to Buddhist shrines in family homes, which are permanent, and the Hindu offerings put in front of most all homes and businesses on Bali every morning. There is an entire industry in Bali to make these tiny offerings of food and flowers, about 5” square on banana leaves.

 

Later that day after our class, we went to the plaza in Ajijic and painted our faces in the style of La Catrina, Linda’s more elegantly done than Mark’s, who ended up looking more like a Dali-esque nightmare than a Catrin. We then walked to the cemetery west of town and observed all the families at their loved ones’ graves. Candles, food, tequila, decorations, mariachis it was just like the scenes in Coco (the movie), or rather, the movie captured the look and feel perfectly.

 

Now THAT'S an ofrenda!

That was 2017. In 2018, we spent a month in Oaxaca, renowned for its Day of the Dead celebrations. People travel to Oaxaca from all over the world to observe and participate. The entire town is decorated with calaveras, sitting on ledges, and standing next to store doorways. There are ofrendas everywhere, private ones in homes and large ones in the plaza.

 

We signed on for a night tour of 3 different panteons (cemeteries,) 2 in the Oaxaca city limits, and one outside the city proper in a small town. The tour was interesting as the guide told us the history of each cemetery. The 2 in town were interesting but overrun with tourists (like us!). The one outside of town, however, was a whole different experience. The town was San Juan Etla, and the cemetery was much smaller. The graves themselves looked different, mostly small mounds of earth. The families were there in force, and very gracious to we “intruders.”  

What we love is that it is not just a sad event, there were mariachi bands, and families eating tamales together near their departed members, still involving them in the party. Beautiful. (We think the norteamericanos should adopt a similar practice…all that wasted park space in cemeteries!)

Now it is 2020, and with the coronavirus, Jalisco is currently (once again) in a semi-lockdown. The cemeteries are closed and locked. Families entered earlier in the week with their decorations and candles and left them for their departed family members. Last night, we walked to the one about 100 yards from our current casa, and it was heartbreaking to look through the locked gate and see the adornments, candles flickering, knowing this essential part of Mexican culture was being cancelled because of the virus.

Peeking through the gate

We are using this time to think of those who are no longer here, yet also to celebrate their lives, and how they can be near us in a way, still.  ....our dear ones as well as the many who have lost the battle with a new enemy, Covid. 

 2020 November 1

 

I hear the whistle, but I can’t go, I’m gonna take it down to Mexico

San Antonio Tlayacapan, Jalisco, Mexico

(Note: new version of Blogger seems to have some formatting glitches, sorry)

Into Seattle

Leaving Hawaii with mixed feelings, we boarded a redeye flight on June 26 to return to the mainland, en route to Mexico. The redeye was not our choice, but Alaska changed our nonstop to SJC to a connection through Seattle a few days before the flight. Flying in the times of Covid. Seattle was semi-terrifying as SEA was very crowded and many folks seemed to have only a cursory interest in masks and distancing. So we did our best to dodge the more flagrant violations of polite (and sane) behavior, moving our seats a few times as we waited for our connection.

Just a bit crowded

 

When it was time to board the plane, it was clear we were on a smaller 2 x 2 configuration, again, due to equipment changes by Alaska. When Mark asked the gate agent why our seats had been changed to not have any space between us and others, given Alaska’s notable advertising of space on planes, two to a row, the answer was “if you are a party of two you sit together.” Simple enough, but on a 2x2 plane, this means technically the entire plane could be full if everyone were in a party of two. This was not quite the case, and yet we got pushback from a FA when we moved across the aisle to 2 empty seats so as not to be directly behind 2 people directly in front of us, and 2 more in front of them. Harrumph!

Happy Birthday, John!

We spent 5 days in the SF Bay Area (No quarantine or temperature checks here! Land of the free!) on a mission to have a birthday pizza with son John, reconnect at a distance with some friends, and relocate our small storage unit contents from Dublin to San Jose in order to save $100 per month on the rent. We accomplished the latter with help from John, then headed to a SJ park with 2 pizzas to celebrate as best we could John’s birthday – which was in fact that very day! We had about 10 boxes (out of about 100 stored) that we decided to sort and downsize. After all, if we haven’t needed it in 3 years?! The owner of the motel where we stayed in Palo Alto looked a little surprised when we pulled in with a U-Haul truck, but we explained what we were doing, the place was empty anyway, and he let us use the room next door to sort while we slept in the other. Very kind!

On to Mexico, this time our nonstop was changed to include an LAX connection on the way to Guadalajara without our knowledge until check-in, to a DAY LATER. LAX was as equally concerning as SEA regarding respect for La coRona. We arrived in San Antonio Tlayacapan on July 2, where we spent another 14 days in quarantine at our new rental in El Parque. It was quite easy as our property manager, as well as a friend who lives around the corner, brought us groceries, and neighbors carted our garbage bags down to the dumpsters, thanking us for being “responsible.” At one point one of our kind couriers expressed some surprise that we needed rum…again! New purchasing allocation and recycling strategies were deployed!

 

We were fortunate to catch up with our insular Peninsular friends, Ita, Sarah, Pamela and Bruce, in properly spaced lawn chairs on the front lawn, and then with Tony & Amy, also well-spaced in their backyard. It was so nice to see friends after so long away, and also to drink good wine! We also checked in with our Oakland neighbors, JP and Ann.

Our Supply Chain!

 

After the 2 weeks, we very slowly re-entered the social scene, and at that only barely. We had lunch outdoors with friends Peter and Heather (and Misha the Dog) and spent a brief time at our old watering hole, the Once-and-Future Mama’s Bar. During our absence, there was a rent dispute at the previous location (which was in fact the second incarnation of Mama’s – read on,) so the bar was moved – lock, stock and barrel, literally -- to a new spot, which turned out to be in the original Mama’s Bar location we had first visited in November of 2017. That location was also previously closed, and moved, due to a rent disagreement with a different landlord. To clarify, the “disagreements” tend toward “oh, your business is doing well, so I am going to triple your rent!” The most recent move literally left only the concrete slab and two bathroom walls behind. This was totally fair as the place had been built from the ground up by the bar owners, so it was their property. Ah, Mexico!

We currently limit our days out to a restaurant or bar to about twice per week, with masks and hand sanitizers. (No, he didn't eat that at one sitting!)

 

Mark finally broke down and bought a Weber (charcoal, of course) which is parked on the mirador (rooftop deck) and he is very happy. He is working with a local teaching woodworking shop to get some cedar planks made for his famous salmon. And…then…a Weber smoker turned up on Facebook!  It’s Mark’s Christmas present. And we’re looking forward to smoking a turkey again, which was our tradition in Oakland.

 

Now that Linda is not working (finally!), there is extra time to fill:

 

We have been volunteering as walkers / cuddlers at Lucky Dog again. It has been fun to do, although a little weird with masks. We were always careful to wash our hands / arms between dogs, so not much difference there.

We are in the initial stages of looking into assisting the Feria Maestros del Arte organization here at Lakeside, whose mission for the past 19 years has been to help make a market in Mexico for the Mexican folk artists in about 10 Mexican states. It has the added benefit, beyond sales for the artisans, of keeping folk art traditions alive. With La coRona, this year’s big in-person fair in November will likely not happen, so we are helping the people who run it think through options and also start to build an online platform that could eventually reach NOB. (North of Border)

A great ceramic artist; we may have to get the Mermaids!

We are also spending a couple hours a week at the Recycling Center – which is a new process in this area. It’s pretty interesting to see / smell everyone’s garbage as we sort out the different types! (Rinse / wash your bottles and jars out, folks!) They can only find buyers for certain materials, which change frequently, and all items need to be sorted prior to sending them out. In addition, shrink-wrapped labels need to be removed. It’s very interesting to be on the “ground floor” of such an effort. And we’ve only seen a couple of cucarachas, shockingly!

This from 2019 w/o masks

 

Mark was challenged by the “mom” of Pancho Villa, the African gray parrot, to work on a burning mosquito repellent solution using spent coffee grounds. Not sure what Xanthan gum really has to do with it, but…it something for Mark to muddle about.

Planting things: the basil we planted initially was going great guns, but suddenly all turned weird colors with spots, so now we are thinking replant. Mark has gotten enamored of starting from seed various chili pepper plants (tabasco, piquin) particularly since the gardener at our friends’ house pulled them out!!

We are planning to stay put in Mexico for a while, as things are looking stable here for now. But we will be moving to another casa in this development in December, as the owner of our current place is probably coming down. We’re looking forward to another point of view, but not to moving all the stuff we’ve somehow accumulated. It’s a shock after living out of a carry-on bag for 5 months while we travelled Asia!

Here's to health and sanity for the rest of 2020!

2020 June 27 – September 21

Barber Shops - A Vanishing American Tradition

From Mark's Curmudgeon Corner (a new blog sub-segment)

Somewhere around 1999, between jobs, I thought about applying for a grant to write a book about barbershops. My general idea was that with the advent of Supercuts and the like, another American institution was going to go the way of the Passenger pigeon. Or very soon, the vaquita in Mexico. Hopefully not our democracy (ok, it’s a republic), though Agent Orange told a group of teenagers recently that the Constitution, Article 2 says he “can do anything I want."

Barbershops held a high place in my growing up years in Oklahoma City. One barbershop, that is - Murray’s. Located at the corner of SW 44^th & Walker, kitty-corner from my elementary school, Lafayette, and next door to the tiny store where I sold the pop bottles I collected walking to and from baseball practice in the summer. I converted my loot into MAD magazines and bottles of Grapette soda. I had to hide MAD from my confiscatorial mom who thought MAD was evil. The bottle deposit was 2 cents (and went up to 2 for 5 cents when I was about 9!), and I am sure that looking for those bottles (thanks, you litterers!) is what inculcated me with the thrift store bug.

Murray was larger than life to me as a small kid. He had I think 2 chairs. They had razor strops on the side, which he used when someone got a shave. I do not recall anyone other than Murray cutting hair. There was the requisite stand with comic books and hunting and fishing magazines (no girly stuff as far as I know – it was Oklahoma!) Above it was a small black & white TV, which I remember as always having baseball games on – clearly not that accurate since that was only several months per year. And also, in the summer, a window unit air conditioner, straining away against the Oklahoma heat.

Mark as Jimmy Johnson

Each haircut brought sartorial apprehension. I always thought I would look bad after the haircut, versus today when I am happy just to no longer look like Jimmy Johnson, with a shrubbery atop me pate. 

And then there was the itchy hair down your back. I know I regularly complained about going to the barber – not because of Murray, an adult who treated even little kids with respect, but because it was just a little short of going to the dentist. Yet I remember it fondly.

After the rescue cut from Murray

So, the weekend before our 1^st grade pictures at Lafayette, I decided I could cut my own hair. I took a pair of scissors to my crewcut and got ‘er done. My mom came home, shrieked, dug in the closet for a baseball cap, and planted it firmly on my head. Good news – I was allowed to NOT go to church that Sunday! Woo hoo! This never happened unless you had been run through with a red hot poker or had some dread disease (a cold did not count).

Barbershops were generally closed on Mondays, but my mom called Murray and he came in and basically shaved my head, the only way to rectify my handiwork. Later that day, the school photo was taken, memorializing in perpetuity my self-shearing.

Mark (and his hair!) 2nd from left with brothers Bruce & Dan flanking

Fast way forward. When I was in my senior year at Oklahoma, I decided to let my hair grow. I was working at a hippie health food bakery, and no one even noticed, except my dad. He was extremely not happy about it and stopped helping me pay for school my last year. 

Eventually the need to get a real job and use my degree meant getting a haircut again. By now my hair was down to the middle of my back, a luxuriant mane. The nice lady (I went to a salon, not a barbershop this time) kindly braided my ponytail and cut it off in one fell swoop. It lived in that state for nearly a decade, sitting on a bookshelf, until I lost it in the war (my personal euphemism for losing things in a divorce, I hope that is not offensive to people who know what real war is.) I should add that when I showed up in class post-haircut, my students (I was teaching College Algebra at OU) booed me. Sigh.

Somewhere about 1997 I went into a real barbershop in San Leandro, California, on my way to work one day. It was a classic tiny 1960s strip mall thing, next to a donut shop. I had never been in this one, though I tried most of the ones I could find in San Leandro. I chatted with the man who cut my hair, told him I was working in Hawaii selling coffee, and he started telling me stories of his time in the military in Hawaii during WW2. In particular, he had more than one tale about getting into beefs with local mokes because soldiers had money to spend and local girls liked that… and the mokes did not. He also told me he was in the shop that day because he was helping his buddy, the owner, who had family in town and was taking the day off.

When the haircut was done, the barber handed me a green plastic comb, imprinted with “Happy Birthday from Bud.” I thanked, him, though it was not my birthday. I went back a few weeks later and the owner did not know who this "Bud" was I was talking about. Cheeken skin! (that’s Hawaiian pidgin for goose flesh). I came up with a few explanations but am sticking with my favorite – an encounter with a spirit barber. I use the same “Bud” comb every day now, for good luck.

When we moved to Oakland also 1997, we had a neighbor, John Cerrone, a true curmudgeon, and funny as hell. I am guessing he is 80 by now. He often walked his dog by the house, a pug, and proved the maxim that people often look like their dogs. He grew up in Boston, he still has a very heavy Boston accent, which he uses to full effect talking about his old friends, people with names like Johnnie and Rocko, who you don’t mess with. I used to see if I could overwhelm him with homemade Bolognese, or homemade cannolis for Christmas. It was a ton of fun. What has this to do with barbers?

John "Carmen" Cerrone, inspiration for Shampoo??

John was a hair stylist in San Francisco starting in the late 1960s, his trade name was Carmen, his customers were famous. He is the person who convinced Joan Baez to cut her hair short (and then did it). He “hosted the likes of Sassoon and Paul Mitchell,” who took his ideas. He was also devastatingly handsome back in the day. He had me scan some of his pictures from then…I showed them to some of the other neighbors, who were speechless (reference walking the pug, above). He sent me a video of him giving Robert Duval a baldy way back when. Life is better than fiction if you pay attention.

So – how does all this have anything to do with our travel blog? (Cue Holy Grail: “He’s going to tell! He’s going to tell!) 

Living in Mexico on and off now for 2 years, I have had many haircuts in local shops where my not-so-great-yet Spanish makes me wonder what I will get. I have landed on a local place, Joe’s Barber Shop in Ajijic. I first saw the name on a float they were sponsoring in a desfile for Guadalupe through town. As I told son James when he and Mattie were visiting, you have not had a real haircut until you have a Mexican haircut.

Why? To start with, no one is in a hurry. They use scissors as well as clippers. They use a straight razor to trim up all the sides and such. I usually get the corte y barba, which means I get a beard trim and shave (with hot towels). Yes, here in dangerous Mexico, I expose my throat to a young Mexican man with a straight razor. I should also say, look at the young Mexican men and the care many of them take with their coifs. And after an hour, it costs 130 pesos (80 for pelo only) plus tip. Deal of the week. 

(Note: current exchange rate is 19 pesos per USD)

From Joe's facebook page...EN SERIO!!

Once again – Viva México (and barbers!)

2019 agosto

Semana Santa

Ajijic, Jalisco, Mexico

Semana Santa, or Holy Week, is a major holiday in Mexico, maybe the major holiday, as many people take the entire week or two off from work and school to celebrate with family. And given that over 80% of Mexicans are Catholic, this time is taken very seriously. We were warned to get gas in the car and cash out of the bank before the week started as they often run out of both in our “resort” area.

Sorting out the timing of the various pieces of the whole religious story is a bit confusing, and shockingly, even Mark’s inundation in church for 18 years did not make it a lot clearer. There is Mardi Gras, the day before Ash Wednesday, the start of Lent. And Lent is 40 days (and then there is Noah and the Ark and rain for 40 days and 40 nights…gets confusing). All to say this report is to tell you about what we saw and experienced, without trying to ensure the concatenation of events is completely accurate.

You may recall Mark’s floury experience back in February at Carnaval in Ajijic (if not, you can find it on the blog). That was February 13. Fast forward through Lent (the best part of which was the capirotada bread pudding,) to March 25, Domingo de Ramos (Palm Sunday), which we called “Jesus on a Burro.” In Ajijic, they celebrate with a brief parade through town of the man selected to play Jesus for the rest of the week, on…. a real burro!

The streets are strewn not with palm branches, but with lovely green alfalfa. We were told it is readily available, cheap, and recyclable. Indeed, within minutes of the parade passing, pickups pulled in and were rapidly filled with the alfalfa, which was taken to feed livestock.

We were walking along the parade route looking for a good spot to watch and saw some other gringos on a rooftop in a prime position. Linda jokingly asked, “how much is a ticket?” and the reply was “cold beer.” We bought a few at Oxxo, came back, and indeed they invited us up. Turns out one of the fellows was from Holdenville in Oklahoma, so he and Mark had a nice visit. And Linda got great pictures.

Ajijic square on Palm Sunday

AND MORE confetti eggs!!

The Stage (curtain in front of the church)

On the following Thursday, there was a re-enactment of the Last Supper and arrest of Jesus, which we didn’t attend. The next day, Viernes Santo (Good Friday), we spent over two hours in the hot sun in the plaza area of the church, watching Ajijic’s version of the Passion Play, featuring Jesus facing judgement with first Pontius Pilate, then Herod, then back to Pilate.

OMG...actually starting on time???

Pontius Pilate, guards, and the crowd of actors

The drone was pretty annoying

As was the gringo actually SITTING in the middle of the actors in the play!! 

There were scene changes between these 3 main trials, and each took almost as long to change as the subsequent scene took to act out.

A lot of press coverage (at least they blend in!)

At the end of this part of the play, Jesus is whipped and then.....

....picks up a real cross and carries it out the gate and through town (followed by a crowd,) the up the neighboring hills (maybe 500 feet of elevation gain?) to Golgatha. Have to say the sheer brutality of what was being represented took us aback.  

Yes, it's really long....and hot...

  

One stunning piece of this event were the people painted in gold who were statues in the scenery. There must have been 7-8 people, and which recalled 007’s Goldfinger.

Following Jesus to Golgotha

The "3 Judases" awaiting their fate

Mark decided to go out late on Saturday to see the Quema de Judas, and old Spanish tradition that is alive and well in some parts of Mexico. The version here involved several large paper mache people, each with a name on a sign around their neck, and which appeared to be local people, like say -- the Mayor. 

They were strung up one at a time in the plaza, and fireworks were set off, spinning wheels kind of like the castillos we saw at Christmas, whistling loudly, with sparks everywhere. Near the end for each figure, another set of fireworks were lit, spinning the entire figure in circles, culminating in an incredibly loud BANG, which left nothing of the figure except the frame. What a sight! The locals were laughing at how much Mark enjoyed this. (You can hear him hooting during the video)

 

And on Easter Sunday there were big celebrations everywhere. Not as many cohetes as we expected, though!

Now the “hot / dusty” season is upon us. We hear that things quiet down for a while with just the town patron saint celebrations. Our town’s is in June, which should be fun!

(abril 1, 2018)