I had the good fortune of spending Semana Santa in Mexico. For
the first few days, I explored D.F., Mexico’s capital, with a group of
girlfriends from college. One of my friends, Destry, is spending a year in
Mexico on a special Fulbright-National Geographic grant doing research about
Los Ninos de Morelia. Read more about her research project here.
Destry and her
partner Ari live in Coyoacan, a lush neighborhood most famous for its artists-in-residence of old,
Frida and Diego.
In front of the pyramid in the garden at Casa Azul
Over several days, I became totally Frida obsessed, visiting
both her house, La Casa Azul, as well as the more modern house she and Diego built
nearby with a bridge between their living/work spaces. Everywhere you go, you
see remnants of the artistic influence that Diego and Frida left upon the
world, and I find their lives to be infinitely fascinating, especially the way
they dedicated themselves to the pursuit of truth and beauty.
her last painting
Everywhere we went
around Coyoacan—the plazas, the gardens, the markets—there was the pursuit of
art. Walking around the park near Destry’s house on a Saturday morning, we ran
into a jazz band, a theater troupe, a dance ensemble, and plenty of dogs—all of
them making good use of this beautiful public space.
frands!
It’s one of the things I notice
most when I’m abroad—the availability of public space—something that’s
unfortunately severely lacking in the United States. I enjoyed walking around El
Bosque de Chapultepec, a park that boasts 5 museums, a zoo, several lakes, and
a territory twice the size of New York’s Central Park.
view from Castillo de Chapultepec
Coyote sculpture in Coyoacan Plaza
jacarandas in full bloom!
more friends in parks!
In the midst of taking in all the art and inspiration of
Mexico City, we made sure to indulge in its delicious gastronomy, too. Tacos,
sopes, molletes, chilaquiles, tostadas, tortas (bowl of meat at el Coyoacan
restaurant), and the ever-present mezcal. My favorite gastronomical discovery
on this trip was pozole, a spicy soup dish made from corn, chiles, chicken
(Diego’s favorite meal). And what could be better than a basket of warm tortillas
wrapped up in cloth at the center of every meal?
birthday brunch for miss Destry
getting fancy
Our group went on Mexico’s version of a booze cruise, except
much more artistically inclined than anything I’ve ever seen. The boats that
travel on the Xochimilco canals are beautifully decorated with vibrant bursts
of color, and it was certainly the place to be on a Sunday afternoon. While most
of the boats are filled with passengers having a good time, there are smaller
boats with vendors selling everything from micheladas (a Mexican favorite where
they add a spicy mix to beer, but an acquired taste in my opinion) to mariachi
bands. It was a crazy fun scene, and we didn’t want the evening to end.
mariachis!
dogs waiting onshore for some scraps
Click above to play video. For more videos from Xochimilco, go HERE
The next day, we woke up bright and early to make the hour-long
trip to the pyramids of Teotihuacan in an effort to miss the midday crowds! As
we trudged up the endless stairs of one pyramid after another, our guide
explained the legend of Quetzalcoatl (the feathered serpent who is venerated
all over Mesoamerica) and gave us a glimpse into the way life once was in this
ancient trade and spiritual center. It’s hard to describe the sensation of
standing in front of a pyramid that took several generations to build, a
structure that was built with so much precision, forethought, and intention—qualities
that are clearly missing from the development of our own civilization. Impressive,
to say the least.
our guide!
ladies in front of the moon pyramid
After our full-on cityscape immersion, Norbert and I flew
to the coastal region of Oaxaca. We landed in Puerto Escondido and then ventured
onward to a little town called San Agustinillo, a seaside hamlet with gorgeous
views on the Pacific. This region used to be known for its horrific turtle
hunting operation, which took the lives of more than a thousand sea turtles
each DAY. Thankfully, this practice has since been outlawed and the economy has
come to rely more on ecotourism and yoga retreats.
sunset crowds at punta cometa
Our hosts suggested a
morning boat ride to experience the wildlife and we took them up on the offer. You
never know what gifts nature will offer on any given day, and this morning it
happened to be several whale and dolphin sightings.
What a magical experience
to witness these graceful animals in their wilderness state, and while I’m
grateful to have been given the opportunity, I worry about what the future will
bring. Our guide mentioned to us that they’d been experiencing a huge tourism
boom ever since the area had been deemed a wildlife hotspot by the government—a
good thing for the economy, but not so good for the animals that call these
waters their home. While there used to only be a handful of boats bringing
tourists to view the wildlife, I counted more than a dozen on our trip, all of
them fighting to get closer to the animals, especially alarming when you
consider the multiple duos of mama humpback and calf that we encountered.
Looking towards land, our guide pointed out the remains of the cable lines that
were once part of the turtle massacring operation. “The water here used to run
red, not blue,” he said, pointing to the shore.
While in the area, I was able to connect with an artist
friend who I met at the Art Farm in Nebraska several years ago, Joan Waltemath.
She’s an extraordinary artist and woman, I was thankful to get to catch up with
her and see the place that she calls home here in Mazunte, Mexico—when she’s
not in New York, Baltimore, or Nebraska, of course! She’s a big reason why I’ve
been wanting to visit Oaxaca for a while now.
But the main reason for our trip to Oaxaca was still a
few days away.
After ogling iguanas and swimming in beautiful beaches,
most significantly a natural jacuzzi protected from the rough Pacific surf by
enormous rocks, we made our way away from the coast and up into the mountains. I’d
been warned by many about the twisty-turny bus ride, but I was sure my stomach
of steel could handle it. Alas, I was wrong. This ride through the Sierras can make even the strongest of us queasy. But the uncomfortable 6
hour journey was well-worth it. Oaxaca is one of Mexico’s gems, a city that is
known for it’s impressive artistry and delicious cuisine. I didn’t even know
that there was an important ancient city nearby, Monte Alban, although this
being Mexico, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Norbert and I spent an afternoon
napping in the shade and exploring the excavated caves. The next day, we
visited the museum that held most of the valuables that had been found in the
tombs – intricately carved objects, gold jewelry, jade-embossed conch shells. It’s
one thing to visit the vast stone structures left behind by these civilizations,
but it’s a whole other experience to see the beautiful items they made with
incredible detail and care. Mexico is a treasure trove of ancient civilizations,
and it takes my breath away to peek into their mysterious past.
On Good Friday, we watched the Procession del Silencio,
an elaborate parade conducted completely in silence that reenacts the trial, crucifixion, death and burial of Jesus. There were countless sculptures
of Jesus on the cross and the Virgin Mary in various states of grief. There were
school children holding candles and young men hauling huge wooden crosses down
the stone streets.
CLICK ABOVE FOR VIDEO
Although this had been a draw to visit Oaxaca during the
festive week of Semana Santa, the main event occurred the following day, when I
was able to reconnect with a dear friend of mine.
Espiri Rios and I met back in 2011 when I was apprenticing
on an organic farm in western Massachusetts. I was becoming quite enamored with
bread baking and a friend of mine had a connection at an artisanal bakery
called El Jardin. That’s where I met Espiri. He was the head baker, spending
long nights mixing enormous buckets of sourdough, shaping hundreds of loaves,
and loading them into the wood-fired oven. I had the good fortune of working
beside Espiri one night a week, learning about caring for the delicate sourdough
starter and listening to stories about his life and family back in Mexico. I came
to El Jardin to learn about the mechanics of bread baking, but my most lasting memory
from my time at the bakery is my friendship with Espiri. (Read an essay about
my time at El Jardin HERE) I’d heard so much about Espiri’s family as we
shaped loaves of sourdough, so it was a real treat to sit with them at their
kitchen table and get to know them over some typical Oaxacan sweet bread (hojaldra), memelitas, churros and
a delicious drink called champurrado made from atole and chocolate.
Espiri is still the same warm-hearted friend that I made so many
years ago, and I loved having the chance to introduce him to my future husband.
Also, after losing contact all of these years, it was great to see that Espiri and
his family are all doing well. I’ve often wondered how they were doing.
Another favorite experience in Oaxaca was wandering
through the tangled alleys of the city’s many markets, tasting everything in
our path, from tlayudas to chapulines—spicy grasshoppers! With a heavy heart
and a kilo of Oaxacan chocolate in our bag, we headed back to Mexico City for
one last hurrah.
meat hall!
grinding chocolate
cheeeeze
mezcal, anyone?
giant mounds of Copal
Grasshoppers for sale!
Back in the capital, we made the most of our last day by doing
a few important things we had missed the first time around. At the Palacio de
Bellas Artes, Norbert and I sat awestruck in front of Diego Rivera’s masterpiece
mural, “Man, Controller of the Universe”. In the historic center, we received a spiritual cleansing from a Teotihuacano
and watched them do their ritual dances in full garb to the beating of their
traditional drums. We did our best to take everything in at the Museo Nacional
del Antropologia, A Louvre-like mammoth of a museum housing gems from precolonial
civilizations all over Mesoamerica. We finished off the day with a vibrant performance
by the must-see Ballet Folklorico de Mexico.
There’s still a lot that to experience in Mexico City,
but I think we got ourselves a pretty good taste for our first time. I’d love
to come back to Mexico and linger a while longer. I can see why my father was
such a fan of this country, spending much of his twenties vagabonding from
coast to coast, selling odds and ends from his van, spear-fishing for his
dinner, and befriending anyone who crossed his path. “El Guero” was his affectionate
nickname during his adventures throughout Mexico, which refers to a region of Mexico
where the people are very white, a nod to his own light skin.
I apologize for my long absence. The last few months have
been full of uncertainty and tough decisions; my father’s dementia has
deteriorated further after a long urinary tract infection. Thankfully, he is
currently free from the infection at last and safely residing in an assisted
living facility.
Unfortunately, I have recently lost a dear friend and
avid reader of this blog. I met Christine Grovenstein several years ago when a
friend introduced us because of our shared love of organic farming. Christine
ran an organic blueberry farm in Lithia, Seeds of Love, and you may have had
the chance to try her beautiful berries at your local grocery store. It was always
a treat to go to the farm, not only to learn from Christine, but also to snack
on these delicious fruits that I knew had been cultivated with love and care.
Seeds of Love blueberries
Not only were her blueberry bushes gorgeous and prolific,
but Christine devoted a lot of her efforts to preserving the wildness of her
acreage. Unlike other farmers in her area, Christine’s land was bursting with
life and diversity. The land was home to stands of enormous trees—scrub oaks
and laurel oaks—as well as other native and edible landscaping. She had built a
labyrinth and a Medicine Wheel. In the 25 years or so that she was the
caretaker of that land, she allowed herself to be enriched by every living
thing that shared that space with her. For most of her time on the farm, she
lived there alone. Christine was incredibly in tune with nature and her
connection to the plants and wildlife was something to behold. The land was
sacred to her, and working it was a ceremony that she did with love every
single day. She called the land her source, and indeed it was a source of
inspiration and beauty to every person who walked upon it.
Christine overlooking her land, her source
When she wasn’t taking care of her beautiful land and
farm, she was off traveling. She had been a Peace Corps volunteer in Guatemala
when she was in her 40’s and she returned to Central America often. Her partner
Dan had a boat and they had many adventures together at sea. She loved
elephants and had traveled to many far corners of the world to care for them. By
the way she worked the land and lived her adventurous life, it was hard to
believe that Christine was in her 70’s.
She went through hardships, too. In the last years of her
life, she valiantly battled Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia. She was treated
unfairly by the National Organic Program, even after 25 back-breaking years as
a small organic grower. But she never let any of that get in the way of her
dreams and goals. She continued to pour her heart into the land. This past
September, Christine wrote to me about her experience of losing nearly 80 trees
to Hurricane Irma: “The petrified wood of old laurel trunks reminds me of the
strength I must have that comes from all storms in life.” Indeed, she had
weathered many storms, but she had learned and grown wise by withstanding them.
Enjoying the full moon at Seeds of Love farm
Over the years, Christine and I became very close. I introduced her to as many
women friends as I could, wishing to share Christine’s passion and energy with them.
She was a fierce fighter of justice, and I told her often how inspiring she was
to me. Ours was a special friendship, and I know that her spirit will continue
to live on in me. I will continue to be inspired by the beautiful and ambitious
way that she lived her life until the very end. Age, illness, and injustice did
not stop her. She was always generous with her time, with her land, with her
energy, with her knowledge, with her spirit. I hope to give as much to the
world as Christine did. I feel very lucky to have known her.
I will never forget the connection that we shared. Her words
will continue to guide me as I move forward in life.
“I see such goodness in you with a wonderful life ahead
full of adventure, love, and service. It is a spark in me to have shared what
we have. I want to say that so that you go knowing the admiration I have come
to have for you. It is a blessing to have a friend as you in life. It just
makes life warmer.”
Thank you, Christine, for your life, your love, and your
friendship.
Having a friend like you in my life has also made my life warmer.
I
love you.
Thank you for your life, Christine. We love you and miss you.
