Making Christmas

 " . . . In every winter of the world, Arizona school children fold and snip paper snowflakes to tape around the blackboard.  In October, they cut orange paper leaves, and tulips in spring, just as colonial American and Australian schoolchildren once memorized poems about British skylarks while the blue jays or cockatoos (according to continent) squawked outside, utterly ignored.  The dominant culture has a way of becoming more real than the stuff at hand."

                                        -Barbara Kingsolver, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle (pg. 296)


      Ms. Kingsolver said it better than I did.  But my question, given my perspective in Mexico, is how the vision of a snowy Christmas got to  be the "dominant culture".  There are very few places in this country that experience real snow.  So why do we see flocked trees, refrigerated ice skating rinks, and snowmen in every park and plaza?  Yes, I agree that the idea of a snowy Christmas is a charming one.  But why are we getting bombarded by these images when they have nothing to do with an authentic, Mexican, Christmas experience?

       Call me crazy, but I´m willing to bet that the Christmas decorations in this country 100 years ago did not celebrate snow.

      I don´t either.

      Now, I´m not one of those bah-humbugs who hates the wetness, coldness, and messiness of snow.  Au contraire, I love it!  When I lived in Indiana in the winter and my coworkers would whine and moan at seeing the snow fall, someone would routinely add, "at least Jill will be happy."  And I was.

     But I believe in being present in my present surroundings.  So Christmas in Saltillo isn´t snowy?  What then, are the things that speak "Christmas" to me here?

• Pointsettias--native to Mexico, the poinsettia is called nochebuena in Spanish.  That literally means that it´s the Christmas Eve plant, as we all know it blooms this time of year.  And if you haven´t been to Mexico before, let me warn you that they can grow to be a good 6 or 7 feet tall!  There isn´t anything like a good nochebuena to help celebrate Christmas, so we´ve got them everywhere.  





Yes, ours is a bit pathetic by Mexican standards.
My idea is to buy a new piece every year.
So, when we´re celebrating our 50th year as a family, we´ll have
a set that will be the envy of any abuelita.  

• Nativity scenes--I´m convinced that there is an unofficial, national competition on who can make the grandest, most elaborate nativity scene.  Mexican nativity scenes not only incorporate the Holy Family, Wise Men, shepherds, and an angel.  No, no--they often include herds of cattle, Satan, washerwomen, nopales, goat roasting on a spit, fish swimming merrily in rivers . . . a tiny town of clay figurines descend on most Mexican homes for two months out of the year, causing significant rearranging of furniture.  I never get tired of checking out others´ nativity scenes.  

• Rosemary--earlier in the month, I wanted to make a wreath for the front door.  But, as we don´t have many pines here, I wanted it made out of something I could easily get.  I have a large rosemary bush in my patio.  A traditional, Mexican Christmas dish is romeritos, which is rosemary covered in a mole sauce.  Thanks to this, I´ve noticed in the last few years that just smelling rosemary reminds me of Christmas.  Furthermore, in a Mexican Christmas carol, Los Peces en el Rio, one of the verses speaks of Mary washing out clothes in a river and hanging them to dry on a rosemary bush.  Furthermore, having cut a branch off a few weeks before this contemplation, the cut branch stayed green for a few weeks.  

         Alas, right before I harvested the rosemary for the wreath, we had a cold spell and the bag I                covered the rosemary with had condensation inside.  Given the freezing temperatures, it just                about killed my rosemary bush.

         *sigh*  Next year, we´ll have a rosemary wreath.

• Advent wreaths.  I had to search long and hard to find an advent wreath that did not incorporate fake pine branches and pine cones.  Granted, that wouldn´t be so bad--there are mountains full of pine forests very close to here, so the pine-theme would be somewhat authentic.  However, during our first year of marriage, we lived in Metepec, just outside of Toluca.  Metepec is famous for clay pottery, and arboles de la vida.  

          While walking around one of the pottery markets one day, I found this.  Not at all Christmas-y,           in the "let´s celebrate snow" sense.  Very Christmas-y in a traditional, Mexican sense.  Makes             for one pleased expat.                

If you also live in a region of the world not blessed with snow, what decorations appeal to you?

More Preschool Dress-Up Days

Mexico celebrated the 104th anniversary of its glorious revolution a few weeks ago.  It´s one of the more important civic holidays on the calendar, so any school in the country would be remiss not to mark the occasion, right?

Right.  However, as the Revolution was a multi-faceted struggle, one that succeeded in some respects and failed in others (and, of course, it depends on one´s point of view exactly where the Revolution succeeded or failed), it´s a complicated story to tell.  Particularly to preschoolers.

So, what should we do?  Gloss over it?  Simply have an extra-long flag ceremony on the 20th?

Nah--let´s reenact it!


Is it just me, or is it true that whenever there´s something to celebrate at the preschool, the teachers ask us to dress up our kids for the occasion.  Independence Day?  Pick a traditional dress from any region in Mexico and sport those colors!  Columbus Day--guess what?  Your little güero gets to be King Ferdinand!  United Nations Day--dress your child up in traditional dress from another country!  Revolution Day--well, let´s all be revolutionaries!

As a mom, part of me is irritated to spend so much time sewing.  (Without a sewing machine, because I did not realize that a sewing machine should be included in a list of school supplies at the beginning of the year.  Those of you with younger kids in Mexico--be warned.)  However, at the preschool stage, history and social studies are tricky concepts to teach.  Given preschoolers´ natural gravitation towards dressing up and pretending, this just might be the perfect way to have them begin to learn about these tricky concepts.

Still, how much solid information are they really pulling out of merely dressing up as a revolutionary?

I have no idea.  But time will tell.

When I was wracking my brain, trying to figure out what clothes we had on hand to turn Joey into a revolutionary, it dawned on me that we had a perfect outfit for him to dress up as Venustiano Carranza, one of the revolutionary leaders.  So I told him he was going to be Carranza.  Fortunately, he jumped on that idea, bouncing around the living room, shouting, "Carranza!  Carranza! Carranza!"
Did he have any real idea who Venustiano Carranza was?

No.

Already being the proper politician and mingling with his constituents.

However, he now can associate the guy with the big white beard (who is NOT Santa Claus) with the 20th of November.  He remembers that he dressed up as that guy.  In the future, when he hears that name mentioned, he might just be a little more prepped to pay a little more attention to find out what that guy did.

Well, it´s worth a shot.

Worst case scenario?  They´re still awfully cute.

My New Project

Since this summer, I´ve been working on a new project which may or may not affect the life of this blog.  It´s been a long time in coming, and this blog has been instrumental in this new project.  Let me explain:

1. Earlier this year, we were throwing around possibilities of moving abroad.  First to Russia, then to Italy.  Mercifully, both opportunities are off the table for the time being.  However, when faced with the idea of moving to Russia, I was a bit terrified.  So I put my amazing internet skills to the test, and expat blog came through with a few Russian expats for me to glean some experience off of.  All of a sudden, Russia was a lot less scary.  If these people can do it, so can I.  
2. Over the past few years, and particularly this year, I´ve had people find my blog as they were in the process of moving to Saltillo.  I investigated a bit, and apart from wikipedia, there isn´t much information about Saltillo on the internet--less in English.  So this blog is the only source of information on Saltillo in English?  Yikes.  As most of you know from some of the randomness I post on here, that´s not leaving much for people to go on!
3. Furthermore, on my search for expats in Italy, I came across the International Women´s Club of Torino.  I investigated further and found out that there are organized groups of expat women all over the world!  For more information, click here for an example.  I thought to myself, "well, shoot--why don´t we do that here?"  

So I did.  

Having a core group of expat friends in Saltillo, and all this blogging experience from the last 5 years, I started a new site, SaltilloExpats.  The point is to present some more solid information on Saltillo (not just my take on things), and in the future I´m hoping to have a variety of people post on the site, not just myself.  After all, being married to a Mexican, I don´t have the typical expat experience.  

Then again, who does?  

But if we pool all our experiences together, that could paint a much more accurate picture of expat life in Saltillo--for all of us:  those here on business, accompanying spouses, English teachers, missionaries, those of us married to Mexicans, retirees, vagabonds . . . do we have any more expat subsets?

So if you notice that my solid posts about Saltillo seem to be disappearing, you might be right.  They´re just going to the other site.  I´ll leave my randomness and personal stories and tongue-in-cheek humor for this site.  

Thanks, Gobernator!

Every year, in October or so, we get this box of school supplies, thanks to the state government.  

I´m always left a little bewildered. 

This year´s box included blank paper, a box of crayons, an abacus, a notebook, a book, and a bilingual memory game.  Last year´s box was better assorted, including a pencil, scissors, glue, and a jar of paint.  But I do like the addition of the book this year. 

In the two years that I´ve experienced this, the teachers send the box home with us.  

They don´t ask for us to bring any of these supplies back to school.  

In the meantime, I´m spending every morning and lots of evenings of every other week making, buying ingredients for, and serving lunch for the kids at school, as a fundraiser for the PTA.  We´re hoping to build a little fence for the entrance to the school and repair some of the walls that surround the school.  

However, it seems that every other week, the principal is hit up with telephone bills.  Or the cleaning lady needs a new mop.  Or the printer needs ink.  Or someone broke into the school and we have to replace a window.  As far as I understand, the principal has very few funds to pay for these expenses, apart from the Parents´ Association.  It seems that the federal government pays for the building of the building and the teachers´ salaries.  The rest (including maintenance) is up to the parents.  And it doesn´t appear that the parents are very well informed of this, as those of us relying on the public school rally to that item in the constitution that declares that every Mexican child is entitled to a FREE, secular education.  

But who cares if the toilets flush?

So, instead of sending home thousands of boxes of vaguely useful school supplies, wouldn´t that money be better spent on giving every school a few mops and bottles of bleach every year?  Or simply let the teachers keep the school supplies, to suppliment for those students who never did bring in their list of school supplies at the beginning of the school year?  

Leaves me baffled. 

But, as my husband says, at least we´re getting something for our taxes.  After all, many of Mexico´s more famous politicians (decades ago, of course) just took our taxes and funneled them to private bank accounts in Switzerland.  

So we´re enjoying our abacus. 

But the school still needs a new mop. 

*******************************************

Note to any immigration authorities who may read this:  this post is in no way a critique on any branch of the Mexican government, merely passing observations.  

  

Day of the Dead 2014

Both Halloween and Day of the Dead are popular around here and, understandably, the holidays all run together, more or less.  Being part gringo, we trick-or-treat with all the pagans in town (despite being chastized by my husband, the catechism teacher, the little-old-lady Catholic neighbors, younger protestant friends across town . . . sheesh!  It seems that anti-Halloween fervor is one of the few things that both Catholics and Protestants can agree on in Mexico).  But I´ve got new friends who also celebrate Halloween, so we had a great time!

However, in order to preserve traditional Mexican culture, the teachers at school asked that the kids dressed up as catrinas on the last day of October.  They´re the traditional, well-dressed skeletons created by José Guadalupe Posada and popularized by Diego Rivera. I support that honoring of culture. So we dressed as catrinas.  But the kids were joined by plenty of witches, Draculas, zombies, and even a boy wizard.  

The parents were invited to a Day of the Dead Open House at school.  We showed up early, during recess, and Joey was a bit frightened of all the other catrinas running around the school patio.  He clearly didn´t get a good look at his own face!  

Each class displayed Day of the Dead artifacts:  Clara´s decorated skeleton masks, Joey´s class collaborated to make a full-size altar, the students in another class brought in mini-altars, and the last class clothed little catrina paper dolls.

Halloween night, Joey was much happier to be Zorro from Dora, instead of his scary-catrin self from the day before.

Kermesse at the Seminary

Earlier this month, the seminary held their annual kermesse to raise money fund the wonderful education that goes on within its walls.

At a kermesse, one simply buys food tickets, and then spends the afternoon eating burritos, tamales, tacos, fruit salad, etc.  A few rides and games for the kiddos and . . . well, that´s about it!  That, and because this is the seminary, they did have mass every hour on the hour.  And I like mass at the seminary, as it reminds me of my own college experience.  Maybe it´s the modern architecture, maybe the homily is a bit more academic, maybe it´s all those sweet, we´re-going-to-change-the-world vibes that just flow through such places.  Whatever, it is, I was pretty psyched to experience another mass at the seminary.  And I was not disappointed.

But, there isn´t much to say about the day in general.

However, there are a number of pictures to share!

The marble-rolling game that Clara chose.

Given her drive to "do it right" she got about 20 tries from her 6 marbles.

Guaranteed prizes(

Joey decided to spend his $20 on a car ride.  Of course.
And he wouldn´t look at me once.

Being northern Mexico, the ranchero band was, of course, present.

Captain America, Patrick, and Pluto donated their time for celebrity lucha libre.

Lucha libre commentators

I think Pluto got the worst of it.

The kids had free reign on the ring after the celebrities we chartered off to their swanky hotels in Monterrey.

However, there are a number of pictures to share!

Independence Day Changeroo

The kids´ school celebrated Independence Day on a Friday, with the kids all dressed up in costumes.  Joey was told to come as an Indian.  Having seen other kids, I knew that all we had to do was dress him in khaki pants, sandals, and cut a hole in a jerga (mop rag) to make him a cheap serape.  And lots of parents paint mustaches on their little boys´ faces.

That´s pretty much the whole reason I wanted to have a little boy--to paint a mustache on his face for Independence Day.

Joey liked the mustache, and he was surprisingly open to wearing his sandals.  But he hated the serape and refused to wear it.  I packed it along with him, and send him to school in his khakis, sandals, mustache and red "Made in Mexico" T-shirt.

Just imagine him with a mustache--that´s exactly how I sent him to school.

Imagine my surprise when I show up at the program for the parents and he´s dressed like this!

It turns out, he´s a good deal less adamant about having his own way when he´s at school.  Or Maestra Mary´s Indian costume was a good deal cooler than mine.  Either way, he wasn´t the only kid in his class wearing everyday clothes.    

Winery Tour--Queretaro

For years, Mario has been telling me that I needed to see Queretaro.  That it´s one of the most wonderful cities in all of Mexico.  So colonial, so full of trees and flowers, so full of culture.  And we were almost there this last weekend.

But we went a half hour out of our way and went to Bernal, instead.

Queretaro may indeed be charming.  I sure don´t know.  But I´m pretty smitten with Bernal and the area surrounding it.  And at under 7 hours from Saltillo, we´ll be back for another long weekend.  (That´s Mario-drive-time, of course.  Normal people will not make it from Saltillo to Queretaro that quickly.)

Did you know that . . . Querétaro is one of the most important states in wine production?
(I´m guessing that it´s second--behind Baja California, of course.)

Our point in stationing ourselves in Bernal was to take advantage of the Wine and Cheese Trail.  Places in Bernal do offer guided tours to wineries and cheese makers, but we made our own tour.  On our list, Freixenet Vineyards, Azteca Vineyards, and Redonda Vineyards.  For cheese, we were hoping to find a variety of cheese makers, but El Hostal de los Quesos was well stocked and we couldn´t ask for anything more.

Patio at Freixenet

First on our stop was Viñedos Freixenet.  I´ve had their wine before, and it´s good, but not exceptional.  And stopping by the vineyard, it became clear that while they may be in the wine business (and doing a pretty good job at it) they are also very much in the tourism business, and take full advantage of their proximity to the hordes from Mexico City, looking to get out on the weekends. They offer a variety of tours--basic tours cost $60 a person, tour depth, length, and price expand from there.  Every other weekend, they offer wine pairing classes, which include full meals.

Their buildings and grounds are beautiful, making me almost feel like I was in Napa instead of Queretaro.  Like I said, these guys have wine tourism down pat.   I would have been happy to stay and get to know the place better, but we were on a mission, and had to stock up on more wine.

Azteca Vineyards is just on the other side of the street from Freixenet.  The gate was open, but as we entered, I noticed a sign that said that they only did tours by appointment.  No problem--we were just there to buy wine.  However, it was a sign that things at Azteca were a great deal different from Big Ol´ Freixenet.

Now, on September 15th (the day we were there) Freixenet was opening up an additional parking lot to accomodate all their visitors.  At Azteca, there was one other car besides ours.  They didn´t look open.  We drove around a bit.  Then a car came driving up like he owned the place.  (I think he did.)  We asked if they were open, and he told us to follow him.  We got to the store, where we were told they were not open.  But then boss-man said that we, and the guests he had with him in his car, were welcome to buy what we wanted.  Excellent.

Azteca´s tourism niche is that they also boast stables and a charro (Mexican cowboy) program.  Their grounds were filled with grapevines (of course) and ponds and horses and stables and old-style Mexican buildings--very appropriate to visit on September 15th.  I was in love with the place and wished they were open, so we could have spent more time there.  However, they had a big harvest festival that weekend, so their staff was understandably having a very deserved day off that Monday.  Now we know for next year--Independence Day weekend at Viñedos Azteca!

In short, Azteca seemed a little more serious about their wine and less serious about tourism.

Third and last on our list was Redonda Vineyards.  We had to wind our way through the town of Ezekiel Montes again (not fun), as they are on the other side of it.  They were also closed for tours, but their store was buzzing.  Redonda had plenty of picnic tables on their patio and a variety of play equipment for kids (thank you, thank you, thank you!).  For those hungry, they also sold cheese and cold cut trays, and plenty of families were enjoying a wine-laden picnic right there.

We spent a very relaxing half-hour there.  We would have stayed longer, but rain was falling as we were leaving.  And had we come on a day besides Monday, we probably could have had a tour.

But I´m looking forward to enjoying their wine at my leisure this week!

As for tasting rooms?  Freixenet offers tastings for a price, of course.  The other two did not offer tastings (nor does Casa Madero, here in Parras, so I was not surprised).  Just a word to the wise, if you´re used to California tasting rooms!  Even though I´m used to it, I still get disappointed.

Once "The Gringa", Always "The Gringa"

I´ve got this stigma that I just can´t shake.

No matter how long I´ve lived here, no matter how awesome my Spanish is, no matter how many times I walk my dog around the block (or maybe because I walk my dog around the block so often), it´s becoming clear to me that I will always be "The Gringa".  Even when I´m 75 and will have lived here for 50 years, I bet I´ll still be "The Gringa".

Now, that´s not necessarily a bad thing.  And, depending on the situation, I know that my "Gringa" label puts me in a privileged position, so I´m not complaining.  The label just keeps slapping me in the face with perspective.

Is there a story to go along with this insight?  You bet´cha!  

As stated before, I´m a stay-at-home mom.  The job has many perks, but loneliness is a common complaint.  In a effort to get out of my house and be more active in my community, I ran up to my church´s office one August day a few years ago, answering their yearly plea for catechists.  Work with children who weren´t my own?  It sounded great to me.  They asked me for my number, and I gladly gave it.

And they never called.

Now, maybe they actually had plenty of catechism volunteers that year.  It´s entirely possible.  Perhaps the office staff doesn´t communicate effectively with the catechism coordinator.  Also possible.  But seriously--who gets denied the opportunity to teach Sunday school?  Maybe this is one of those instances where Mexico is wildly different from the US, because in my experience, there are NEVER enough Sunday school teachers (or catechists, if we continue to speak Catholic).

So there was a dream deferred.

Last year when Clara started preschool, all the parents were summoned to a meeting to pull straws to decide who would serve on the PTA board.  Volunteers were not forthcoming, so as the principal´s eyes were scanning the crowd, I made some kind of tentative, affirmative, "I-can-do-this" motion.  If only to get the meeting moving along so we could leave.  However, the open post was for secretary, and we kind of all agreed (myself included) that maybe The Gringa should not have to be responsible for writing everything down.  In Spanish.  Whew--danger averted!

Fast forward to this year:

 I took Clara to the church office to sign her up for catechism.  I repeated my desire to help with the catechism program.  They told both Clara and I to just show up on Saturday, sign up then, and let the coordinator know I wanted to help.  I could have knocked him over with a feather, with my request to help, but I´m now in like Flynn.

And at the PTA draw-straws event this year, the volunteers were flying off the shelves.  I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking I would be free from responsibility and could simply pay my dues and be done.

Then the principal realized that the PTA board consisted entirely of parents from one class.  We can´t have that!

"Hey, Clara´s mom--why don´t you join us?"

There was no delicate way of declining.  Plus, I was a wee bit curious to know what exactly goes on with the PTA board.  So now I have a few responsibilities outside of my home.  Whew!  After getting my driver´s liscense, this feels like Step #2 of being a real adult again.

Yikes.

So do I wonder if being "The Gringa" stood in my way in the past in my efforts to be more involved.  Sure.  Did being "The Gringa" put me forward unintentionally?  Quite likely.  Like I said, at least it´s a neutral/positive label to bear.

My sympathies for those who have to fight their labels.  May I not be one of those who impede you.

The Things I Can Get Away With Here . . .

Clara´s homework the other day was for her to bring in some vowel flashcards.  No problem.

I cut the cardboard, wrote the vowels, and after a grand total of 5 minutes, we were set!

Then, I noticed the box that I cut the cardboard from.  I don´t know that I´d be able to send those letters with her to school if we lived in the US!

However, as we don´t, I didn´t think twice about it.

I Knew It Was a Great Idea!

Ten years ago, I worked at a children´s home.  A very large children´s home.  I helped take care of 25 first and second grade girls.  Now, for those of you who have also taken care of school-age children, lice is simply a fact of life.  Rather like chicken pox.

Except that we can get lice more than once.  That´s a real bummer.

Our girls were no exception to this fact of life.  And because they all lived together in close quarters (and we didn´t have great access to lice shampoo that year) everyone spent at least a couple of weeks out of the year with lice.

As I was the most mature and among the more patient of the women who took care of these girls, I was the designated lice-picker.

Surprisingly, though, the more I did it, the more I enjoyed it.  It was mindless work, but I could be seated fairly comfortably.  (Can´t say the same for my lice-infested counterpart, but . . . them´s the shakes.)  It was quiet work and no one was hanging on me or whining at me (unless it was the kid whose head I was picking at, but again . . . too bad for them!)   I actually looked forward to lice-picking hour.

And then it dawned on me--I could sell out my amazing nit-picking services!  If lice-infested kids aren´t allowed to go to school, how much time can working parents really take off to pick the lice out of their kids´ heads?  Would some even be willing to PAY me to do it?

Turns out, somebody beat me to that punch!

If you´ve got a lice-y kid in Saltillo, send them to Piki-Piki, downtown on Salazar, just south of the Alameda.

Last Day of School Drama

Clara is in preschool.

She´s a pretty normal preschooler.  She´s not much into "drama".  At least, not the kind of drama I´m thinking of which stereotypes middle school girls.  Whew!

But I had my own little bit of drama the two weeks before school got out.

The last day of school is one of those days for the classes to show off, dance a dance, etc. for the parents.  I love that kind of stuff.  And it got even better for me, because Clara´s school is apparently a little short on girls.  Clara´s class was the one class which didn´t have a presentation planned.  However, the 3-year-old class was short on girls, so they conscripted Clara to join them for their dance.  And the kindergarten class was also short on girls, so a few kindergarten boys needed a partner for their graduation waltz.

Yes, the graduation waltz.

Quick explanation:  it seems that whenever a class of students graduates from school at any level (well, maybe not high school, but I have no high school experience in Mexico to speak of) they have to preform an elaborately choreographed "waltz" for their parents and other well-wishers.  Paired off, boy and girl.  Personally, I love the 6th grade and 9th grade versions, as the kids look like they´d rather curl up and die than do this waltz.  But the kindergartners?  They´re just cute. No surprises there.

But back to my drama.

The three-year-old teacher has always struck me as a bit of a fussy woman.  When she was explaining what the kids would have to wear for their costume, my fears were confirmed.  They needed  a white leotard and lace socks. A thick ribbon to wear in their lacquered ponytails.  And a circle skirt.  Made out of poliseda.  With tulle--soft tulle--just peeking out from under the top layer.

Where was I going to find this very specific circle skirt?

Right.  I needed to MAKE it.  Of course.

Now, I could have taken the obvious, easy route and taken the material and Clara´s measurements to my friend Olga or any number of houses down the street that offer seamstress skills.  That would have been the rational thing to do.

But I like a challenge.  And I´m stubborn.  And I´m one of the biggest tightwads you´ll ever meet. I´ve really got to learn how to overcome some of these personality quirks.

And so I made the skirt myself.  Without a pattern. Without a sewing machine.  Without even crying to Patty, "Help-I´ve-gotten-in-over-my-head-and-I´m-running-out-of-time-and-I-know-you-can-do-this-better-than-me!"

And the circle skirt was made.  On time.

My real question is, why aren´t these skirts readily available in stores all over the country?  Preschools and elementary schools in this country are OBSESSED with the musical, Grease, and I´m fairly confident that every Mexican child dons a ´50s-style costume at least once in their educational career.

Maybe I just missed them.

But I did learn that my sewing skills can rise up to that challenge.

And that´s probably why I took that challenge in the first place.

Final Flag Ceremony

Clara is STILL in school.

I could handle the narcos running amok.  But this 205-day school year?  I may have to leave the country.

All that aside, we are in the final stretch, as today was the last flag ceremony of the year.

Every Monday morning, every single school in Mexico has a flag ceremony.  A select of that school´s oldest and best students are chosen to be in the color guard.  A month or two ago, Clara´s teacher asked her if she wanted to be in the color guard.  I beamed with pride at my little genius.

She said no.

Typical Clara.  I finally got her to tell me why she didn´t want to do it, and she said she just didn´t want to hold the flag, because it would be too heavy.  I reminded her that only one kid got to hold the flag and that a number of other just walk around it.  She could be one of those that walked with the flag.  With the added incentive that her best friend was in the color guard this past year, she was finally convinced to join.

I think they practiced every day for the last month.  And today, the last Monday of the school year, in a beautiful ceremony full of preschool-aged pomp and circumstance, the graduating kindergarten kids handed the flag off to the incoming kindergartners.  

I eat this kind of stuff up.

The kindergartners, on their final lap around the patio.

The big hand off.

The preschoolers show off the hours they spent on precision marching.

Safely turning the flag over to the principal.

The female-dominated 2014-2015 escolta.  The poor lone wolf on the right! 

Golfito

Last weekend, Patty expressed a desire to check out the ecotianguis.  I had been curious about it for awhile, as I haven´t visited it since it changed locations to the Biblioparque Norte.

So off we went.  The ecotianguis feels much more at home in their new space.  I´ll take pictures and post another week.  But, as we had never been to the Biblioparque Norte (I believe it just opened earlier this year), we wandered a bit.  They´ve got basketball courts, soccer fields with beautiful fake grass, tennis courts, and a baseball field.  Being that it´s the BIBLIOparque, they´re supposed to have a library.  Perhaps they do, but we went late enough on Saturday that the building was closed.  Looking through the windows, I spied shelves.  But they were empty.  Nice try, Biblioparque.

But really, I´ll get there during the week and get a better feel for the place.  They do offer yoga classes, tennis lessons, etc.  But what called our attention this last week was the miniature golf course.

I know I haven´t seen miniature golf in Saltillo--heck, in all of Mexico, now that I think of it.  But we now have a sweet, little course in Saltillo.  And it´s FREE.

So we had to play a round.

Saltillo has its ups and downs, but it sure puts some effort into its city parks.  Thanks, Biblioparque Norte!  I´ll be back!

The park must have once been a factory and this colossal tower must have been too big to remove.  Thank God Coahuila is not near ANY earthquake-prone areas!

The girl rocks out golf on the wii, so she was psyched to try it out in real life. 

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Where is the Biblioparque Norte?

Just north of the intersection of Isidro Lopez Zertuche and Colosio.  (By the Quinta Real.)  Look for a large but simple blue and white structure (sculpture?) on the south-bound side of the road.  That´s the entrance.  Plenty of parking.

Sniffy

I have a number of friends who regularly take in street dogs until they can find a good home for them.  I have other friends who just have a number of dogs from taking in so many.

It was merely a matter of time before one of those little critters took up residence in our cochera.

And last Tuesday, it happened.

This guy followed us home from school.  I gave him some turkey.  Let him into our cochera.  He has dug up some of our plants.  I´m still letting him stay in the cochera.

We bought him a collar, a leash, dog food, a vet visit.  Unless someone comes looking for him, he´s here to stay.

At first, it seemed like the right thing to do.  And, now that I´m getting familiar with this dog´s personality, I´m really liking him and think he´s a great dog for us.

But sometimes I wonder, is it really fair of me to keep him?  Are we doing him any favors?  Sure, he gets fresh water and regular meals and isn´t bothered by scary dogs a lot bigger than him on the street.  He no longer has to worry about getting run over by cars.  He gets petted and played with and a walk or two a day.

But would he rather be on the street?  Clearly, I´ve seen Lady and the Tramp too many times.  That, and he was pretty reluctant to get back in the cochera after our walk this evening.  But maybe that was because he was reprimanded from digging up my plants AGAIN this afternoon.  (The plants will be moved to the patio tomorrow.)

Am I keeping him around just to be a big toy for myself and my kids or is it really in his best interest to live in our cochera?

I´ve never had a dog before, so these questions are bothering me a bit.  I realize that they aren´t questions that necessarily have right or wrong answers.

My original reasons for inviting the dog to live with us?

      1) To scare away my schizophrenic neighbor who throws bags of nearly rotten food into our cochera because he thinks his mother lives with us (yes, that´s a whole other story).  And it didn´t work.  The dog just eats whatever David gives him.

      2) My kids are every bit as terrified of dogs as I was as a kid.  If there´s any way for them to get over this fear, I´d love to help them through it.  Keeping a dog seems to be a logical step.  Even though Joey keeps a death grip on my shorts each time we step into the cochera, we seem to be making huge strides in this area this week.  After awhile, Joey will let go of my shorts, maybe even pet the puppy, and often hop on his tricycle (which I think makes him feel bigger and braver).  Clara has blossomed marvelously and likes to feed him, give him toys, pet him, boss him around . . .

So despite my nagging doubts, I am glad we´ve got him.  I even just like playing with him myself.  And since this is a long-haul project, I´m sure the answers will get clearer over time.

It´s all just a little overwhelming now, as I week ago I didn´t have the slightest idea that we´d be ¨dog people¨.

Vintage 2011

At our house, we like wine.  A lot.

Whenever I´m in the US, I spend far too much time dallying in the wine aisles of the grocery stores, in awe of the sheer volume and selection and countries and varietals represented on most large grocery stores´ shelves.  It´s overwhelming, and often I can barely make a selection.  Or, when I do, it´s pretty much because I played eeiny, miney, moe.

Here in Mexico, our wine options are a bit more limited.  Wine aisles in the grocery stores here have come a long way in the last decade (at least, in the fancy-pants grocery stores).  The limited selection does make choosing a wine much easier.

But, as the town of Parras is a mere two hours from Saltillo, we make our wine purchases even easier and get almost all our wine from Casa Madero.  It´s the oldest vineyard and winery in North America, and, I believe, the second-largest.  Despite its size, it pumps out some pretty awesome wine.  Let me state for the record here that I´m no wine connoisseur.  However, a few of Casa Madero´s wines (merlot and chardonnay) have made me step back for a second, give them a second look-over and say, ¨Wow--that´s GOOD!¨

Thanks to us getting almost all our wine from the same place, I´m getting better at guessing what we´re drinking without looking at the label on the bottle.  So, last week, as we were eating, I was a bit stumped to what we were drinking, gave up guessing, and had to ask Mario which wine he choose.  It was a cabernet suavingnon--what I usually think of as standard, red wine.

¨But this is so . . . fruity!¨ (For lack of a better word.)  Forgive me for trying to sound all wine critic-y, but I usually think of fruity wines as wines that are a bit young, and sweeter than cabernet suavingon.  That´s not what I meant by calling that cab fruity.  Cabernet usually bites back a little.  This one didn´t.  It tasted all . . . balanced.  Smooth.  All those irritating adjectives for wine that really give one no sense what it actually tasted like, except that it was good.  Think of Tim Allen growling, ¨gooood¨ here.

Mario´s response?  ¨Yeah--that´s what a cabernet sauvingon should taste like.¨

Huh.  Really.  Well, I´ve liked all the apparent cabernet flops that I´ve tasted, but this one?  Yeah, it stands out.

Now, we´ve drank what must be a few gallons of Casa Madero´s cabernet sauvingon in the last 5 years.  Why on earth was this one be so exceptionally different?

The clue on the tag told us that this wine was from 2011.  A-ha!  Why was 2011 such a stand out year?

It was the worst drought in the last 70 years.

Whatever grapes survived that drought, they had to fight hard for their survival.  Grapes that have to work extra hard tend to make kick-ass wines.

And that philosophy kind of translates to people, too.  When I´m together with friends and we´re discussing life, we often wonder why life has to be so hard.  Why do bad things happen to good people?  And, of course, there´s not really any good answer to that question.  At least not one that I´m fully satisfied with that doesn´t sound trite.

But it seems to be a general pattern that when we do go through hard times, and we manage to come through those tough times with our souls intact, our caracters do not come out unscathed.  We´re often transformed, more compassionate.  Just like with the drought affected the grapes and made a more flavorful wine, our characters can be made more beautiful by tough times.

Now, I´m not one to romanticize suffering.  No way.  If I can somehow get through life with less than my fair share of suffering, I won´t complain.  But when I do go through those times, here´s hoping that I, too, get more beautiful on the inside.




And not just shrivel up and die, as I bet a lot of grapes did in 2011.