BIENVENIDO ABUELITA -- AJO!!

This is what we all shouted each time a new hot stone, or "abuelita" (little grandmother), was brought into the Temazcal. Temazcal is a ritual Mayan steam bath -- what we call a sweat lodge in native american culture in the U.S. -- and I was invited to participate in one this past weekend while I was in Tequisquiapan.

What an experience!!

I had already made plans to go visit Ceci (I spent 2 weeks at her place in September learning Spanish) and get a haircut with my new favorite haircutter, Christian. Christian is from Los Angeles and speaks English and Spanish because his family is Mexican -- he was working in the film industry, got worn out with the frantic pace, and decided to set up shop in Tequis for a while. Great hair cutter, and a really lovely guy. Anyway, Silviah's mother, Herminia, when I had dinner with them last week told me about this Temazcal that she and some friends were going to in Tequisquiapan and invited me to go. Never one to pass up a unique opportunity, I of course accepted without really knowing what I would be getting myself into.

Ceci took me there (she declined to join me in the experience), and it was in a part of Tequis next to the presa (reservoir)where horses, cows and goats were grazing, that she was not familiar with. I got there before Herminia and her friends, so felt a little nervous, but a young woman greeted me very warmly and invited me to change into different clothes -- I had been instructed to bring light cotton shorts and shirt, or a bathing suit. Inside the walls of this compound were a few little stucco buildings, some fruit trees, and a small round structure framed in rattan and covered with fabric, and next to that structure was a fire which was heating up a pile of rocks. The area was about twice the size of my backyard.

While we were waiting for the rest of the participants to arrive, the young woman who was Peruvian, Rosario, beat a drum as another woman tended the fire. The Temazcal is an ancient ritual of purification which is meant to be not only cleansing but spiritually uplifting. We were instructed to let go of any expectations we had of the experience and approach it with the attitude of a child, totally open and attentive to whatever we felt or experienced.

Rosario blew the conch shell to the four directions and her assistant, the beautiful woman in the Mexican blouse offered incense or copal to the four directions. Then we were invited one by one to enter the lodge, and each person was "smudged" with copal to disperse negative energy.

After I was smudged front and back, I was gently told to say "for all my relations" as I entered the small opening and to crawl on my hands and knees around the inside clockwise until I found my place next to the person who entered before me. Speaking about our relations was a way to acknowledge that we all carry with us all of our ancestors and offspring.

There were about 12 of us, 11 women and 1 man. Rosario said it was good that we had at least one man because it was important for woman to increase their masculine energy and for men to increase their feminine energy. After everyone had entered, including Rosario and her assistant, we formed a circle on woven mats around a central area that was a shallow hole in the earth encircled with local flowers. Rosario explained that there would be four stages to the experience each honoring one of the 4 sacred elements: earth, air, water and fire. Then one of the helpers outside began to carry hot stones from the fire with a pitch fork into the lodge one by one. As each stone arrived we shouted "Bienvenido abuelita" and Rosario drew an X on it with a piece of copal as she placed it in the middle. When about 8 stones had been placed, she asked that the door be closed and it became dark except for the red glow of some of the stones. She asked that each person share their name and their reason for coming to the Temazcal. As each person finished they were to say "ajo" (pronounced a-ho), so that the next person would know they were finished. This is all in Spanish so as the people took their turn, and it came closer and closer to my turn, I was feeling pretty anxious about saying something in Spanish to this group, but the darkness helped. After the last person spoke, Rosario began to dip a branch of eucalyptus leaves into a bucket of water and slap the branch onto the stones. As the steam formed, it became unbelievably hot, and we were instructed to breathe in and out through our noses. I kept my eyes closed and just concentrated on breathing, as I felt sweat dripping from every part of my body. At first, I thought, I'm not going to be able to tolerate this for long, but then I settled into the experience and let go of wondering "how long" or "what will happen next". It was a very intense meditation because the physical experience is so extreme that there is no room for thoughts or mental activity.

At some point, Rosario asked us to join her in shouting "Puerta" which was the signal for the outside helper to open the door. I remember being a bit disappointed because I thought it was over too soon. Little did I know, we had just begun. Remember the four stages? Well that was just the first one. After we cooled off a little, more "abuelitas" began to arrive, then more sharing -- this time I believe it was about what we wanted to ask for. Then as the eucalyptus branches and the steam began, we were to breathe in deeply and then vocalize as we breathed out. That actually felt great. The heat this time was even more intense, and again once I relaxed and settled into it, it felt fine. After the second stage, cups of water with some herb in it were passed around. I wasn't as thirsty as I would have thought I would be after all that sweating. At this point, my clothes were as wet as if I had jumped into a pool.

Each stage got hotter, but I think my body was adjusting so that the subsequent rounds never felt as difficult as that second one. There was no more talking after the second stage, but Rosario sang and chanted, sometimes in Spanish and sometimes in indigenous dialect. One of the women in our group asked to sing an ancient nahuatl song which was absolutely beautiful. Of course, this singing and chanting would happen only before or after the intense steam. During the heat, it's pretty much impossible to do anything but breathe.

After the third stage, we could have lovely cold water poured over our heads and necks if we wanted. I was surprised that only a couple of us asked for that. I thought it felt exquisite! After the fourth and final stage, and the door was opened there was a tray of beautiful fresh and cold pieces of fruit presented and passed around. Watermelon and oranges never tasted so spectacularly wonderful!!

AJO!!!

When I looked at my watch after showering I realized 4 hours had passed. The aftermath was that by the time I walked home to Ceci's house, I was exhausted. I ate a light supper and was in bed by 8:30, but my skin looked fabulous and my lung congestion was gone. The next day, I felt great. I would like to say that suddenly I can speak Spanish fluently, but, sadly, that's not the case. I'm still working at it.

YOGA MEXICANA

Ever since I arrived here, I've been thinking it would be good to find a yoga class. I do walk a lot which is, of course, great exercise, but I'm afraid my strength and flexibility which I've worked hard to maintain in Pilates at home will fade away quickly. I did a little yoga with Ceci when I was studying spanish with her out in Tequisquiapan, and it felt good, but my online search for yoga in Queretaro was unsuccessful.

Finally, one day last week on a long walk along the river next to Avenue Universidad which is one of the outer boundaries of the historical center, "El Centro", I spotted a yoga studio which was closed at the time. I was on the way to a movie with Kikey the next day and telling her about this find, and she told me there was another yoga place on Nikolas Campa much closer to my house.

On Monday, I walked over to check it out, but it was closed -- I had forgotten that Monday was another big Mexican Independence holiday --- the 1910 revolution.... not the 1810 one which is celebrated in September. This one was much more low key - my excuse for not realizing it was a holiday. Anyway, when I finally went there a few days later and inquired about classes, the receptionist handed me a brochure describing the classes and the requirements. I have to say I was a bit daunted when I read it. I needed to have a certificate of health from a doctor, 2 small photos of myself and an introductory interview. The photos I could figure out how to get, and my spanish is probably good enough to get through an interview, but the doctor thing stumped me -- I don't have a doctor here.

I had coffee with Aurora the next day, and mentioned to her my dilemma about the doctor, and she said (of course in spanish), "That's no big deal. You can just go to the pharmacy next door, pay 50 pesos (a little less than $4) and a doctor will examine you and give you a certificate." So she took me down to the pharmacy, and sure enough, I paid my 50 pesos and a lovely young woman doctor asked me some questions about family history, listened to my heart and lungs, looked in my eyes and ears and gave me a certificate. No blood pressure check though.... interesting. Who knew it could be so easy. I suppose at home I could have walked into the Walk-In Care Center, but I probably would have had to wait a really long time, and it certainly would have cost a lot more than $4.00.

A word about pharmacies here.... I was walking past a different pharmacy yesterday and was handed a flyer about the services they offer. For example, you can go the pharmacy and get a resting electrocardiogram for 105 pesos (about $7.50), or a gynocological ultrasound for 165 pesos (about $13.00) and a lipid/cholesterol test for 340 pesos (a whopping $26.00). Okay, folks, check your health insurance receipts to see what you were charged the last time you had any of those things done in the U.S. of A.!!!!

Back to the yoga: it is called Solar Yoga and is part of The Gran Fraternidad Universal which is a worldwide organization evidently started by a Serge Raynaud De La Ferriere. According to the brochure's description, the first 30 minutes sounds like vigorous physical exercise, then you take a shower for 15 minutes and change into different clothes (preferably white), and then 10 minutes of relaxation that sounds like a body scan, then 15 minutes of something called gnani yoga, then 15 minutes of asanas, ending with 5 minutes of exercises for the eyes. Certainly will be all new to me. My first class is next Wednesday. By the way, my sign up fee was about $10 and a month of classes 2 times a week is about $15.

PENSAMIENTOS

While Marty was visiting, she suggested that I write in my blog some more personal reflections on my experience here, so I'll give it a try.

By this time, a little over 2 months into my stay here, I am feeling more acclimated. I know my way around El Centro very well and don't need to carry a map around any more. However, language is still a problem, and that is what I'm going to talk about..... the difficulties of immersing oneself in a foreign culture and learning the language. My spanish has definitely improved, but I still usually feel on the periphery of experiences, conversations and relationships. Of course, I realize that in my life, I have often FELT a bit of an outsider, and I think that is being compounded in this experience where I actually AM an outsider.

I can express thoughts and requests, etc . as long as they are not too complicated, and I can understand people when they speak directly to me, although sometimes I have to ask them to repeat or speak more slowly. But when I am with a group, and people are speaking among themselves, it is practically impossible to follow the conversation. I can usually get an idea of what they are talking about, but not the details which means I can't really participate.

I have been to some very interesting events... a couple of plays, a movie in spanish and a movie in italian with spanish subtitles. And there too I can follow the general plot and all, but I miss the subtleties, the little phrases that add depth and emotion to the story. The same when I read stories in spanish. I try to just read without stopping every few sentences to look up a word in the dictionary, and I can get a general idea but again I miss the delicious little details.

I'm reminded of my experience as a child when I put on my first pair of glasses at the age of 8. I am quite nearsighted, and had probably been needing glasses for years before someone noticed. In those days, kids didn't automatically get tested for stuff like that as they do now. When I put on my new glasses for the first time, I was stunned, amazed and fascinated to find out that trees were not just green fuzzy things and grass was not just green fuzzy stuff on the ground. There were actually beautifully shaped and defined leaves and very sharp and pointy blades of grass!! So I am hoping that eventually my language skills will improve to the point where I have 20/20 understanding.

In the meantime, I do have some pretty amusing experiences. I was browsing in a store recently and the owner struck up a conversation with me in spanish. He, of course, realized that spanish was not my own language and asked me what WAS my language, and I told him I was from the U.S. He asked me where in the U.S., and I answered "Vermont", and I could tell from his expression , he had no idea where that was (many people here understandably have never heard of Vermont -- California, Texas, Chicago, New York, yes -- but not Vermont). So I explained (in spanish)that it was in the north near Canada and that it was very cold there. He said, "oh yes, I saw a movie .... with the ex-wife of Tom Cruise..who was that?" And I said, and god knows how I pulled this out of some dusty archive of my brain, "you mean Nicole Kidman?" And he said "Yes, that's it... and it was about the civil war." (remember this is all in spanish) And I say, "Oh you mean "Cold Mountain" (again, how did I remember this?).... that took place in Virginia, I believe, not Vermont"."Oh", he said, "well, it was a great movie". "A great book, too", I said and went along my way, grinning to myself.

SAGRADO Y PROFANO (MORE ON PATZCUARO TRIP)

I stole this title - Sacred and Profane - from my Jungian Analyst friend, Marty. It was her idea for her husband, Bill, to do a photo project exploring that dichotomy. At the time, we thought it fit El Dia de los Muertos in Janitzio, an island in El Lago Patzcuaro. Having thought about it more since then, I would no longer see it as such a dichotomy, especially in terms of how Mexicans experience and celebrate Muertos. I think it is a Western European thing to see these -- that which is religious and holy and that which is mundane and human -- as dichotomous. What has remained here from the prehispanic, "pagan" era is the experience that it is all of the same cloth. What is "sacred" is not so removed from everyday experience as the word would imply.

Anyway, that is a long winded prelude to describe our trip to the island of Janitzio the day after our evening tour of the cemeteries. At breakfast, we heard from others in the Inn that their tour had taken them to the cemetery on Janitzio as their first stop, and it was a disaster. Lots of traffic, crowded boats and so dark they were falling over things in the cemetery. So we were very glad we weren't on that tour.

We took a taxi to the "muelle" or dock, bought a ticket and immediately boarded a long, wooden, partially enclosed boat which was just leaving. The water in the dock area is completely filled with vegetation which doesn't seem to affect navigation at all, though it did take much maneuvering back and forth to get the long boat out of the narrow dock area. The water in the open lake is an unappealing brown, but we were told by Miguel Angel the night before, that this was not an indication of pollution, but of silt. Fishing is still a major industry there.

The island of Janitzio is a mound rising up out of the water with houses climbing up its sides and a huge statue of Morelos on the very top -- sort of like the Statue of Liberty. Morelos was one of the heroes of the Mexican fight for independence from Spain. He took over the fight from Hidalgo and was killed as well before Mexico finally won its independence.

We found our way through the village (the whole island is the village), always climbing up steps until we located the cemetery. Having visited the 3 cemeteries the night before, I was surprised at how small this one was, and how desolate it appeared in daylight. It was obviously the site of what had been a big party the night before (this is the "sacred and profane part" in case you've been wondering).

And here are my photos interpreting the theme of "sacred & profane":
After the cemetery, we continued up the steps to the top of the island where there is a park and the huge statue of Morelos I described earlier. Like our Statue of Liberty, it is hollow and there is a small museum inside with murals depicting the life of Morelos. We opted not to climb to the top. There was a lovely view from the park of the lake and the other small islands. We couldn't linger long because the sun was low, and when it gets dark here, it happens very quickly and is VERY dark, and we had many stairs to negotiate to return to the muelle. On the way down, we could see that all the little shops and stores were closing -- it had probably been a very long day for them since the night before and all the partying. We got right on a boat that was leaving, but after we were well away from the dock, some more passengers showed up so the captain backed up to let them aboard. Marty and Bill and I commented that this certainly wouldn't have happened on the Lake Champlain Ferry.When we docked on the mainland, we were treated to a demonstration of fisherman using the traditional "butterfly nets". It was dark and they were moving so the quality of the photos isn't good, but it will give you a taste of the experience.

LOS DOMINGOS FELICES

Sundays seem to be happy days here in my world and the world of the Queretanos.

I started this Sunday with a big norte americano type breakfast: bacon, eggs, toast and instant coffee. Then I settled in at the computer for a Skype appointment with my friend Marty in California. For those of you who don't know about Skype, it is a fabulous way to really stay in touch with family and friends from afar. It's free to download onto your computer, and free to call computer to computer with others who have Skype. AND you can not only hear each other but SEE each other in real time!! It's particularly easy with a MAC because there is a built in camera and mic. For all of you unfortunate PC users, you would have to get a little camcorder to mount on your computer. It's what you call a "no brainer".

Anyway, so much for my Skype testimonial (I'm not getting paid). After the Skype session, I talked to 2 of my sons, grandsons and a daughter-in-law on my cell phone. Why, you ask, don't they have Skype? Good question! Anyway, it's great to talk with them in any form, and they've promised to have Skype by Thanksgiving. Also called a friend whose birthday I had forgotten earlier this month and answered some email.

Then I HAD to get out of the house, because it was a beautiful, clear, warm day. And, as usual, it seems like everyone in town is out walking about -- multigenerational groups: mom, dad, kids, babies in strollers or in arms, grandparents, and probably great grandparents. And some kind of entertainment is happening in each plaza. I walk everyday, but Sundays are noticeably different.... more festive and light hearted.

My goals for my long walk this day were to check out a Yoga studio Kikey had told me about and visit Quinto Real -- a Mexican handcraft store and cafe owned by Chris (originally from Seattle) and his Mexican wife, Renata. Chris keeps a kind of very small lending library of books in English which were donated to him by some ex-pat. Unfortunately, they are all of the detective, mystery, thriller genre, to which I'm afraid I'm becoming addicted. They're like literary cocaine -- you get all hopped up reading, and then you finish, go through withdrawal, and need more. I'm afraid at some point good literature won't do it for me any more. I'll have to go through rehab, reading nothing but old classics. I should make an ad, "This is your brain on Patricia Cornwall....." At least I'm also reading El Principito (The Little Prince in Spanish)as part of my spanish homework.

The Yoga studio was closed and there was no telephone number on the sign, but at least now I know where it is. One step closer to actually doing Yoga. I chose another book at Quinto Real and had some great ChocoLatte. On the way home, I stopped in Plaza de Armas to listen to a little music. In the evening, I went to Teatro de la Republica to hear a very farcical little Renaissance opera that was part of El Festival de Musica Antigua. Every night this week, there is a performance of musica barroca in a different cathedral. I'm particularly looking forward to Gregorian choral music at Santa Rosa, my favorite cathedral.

I've never gone out of my way to hear classical music at the Flynn or the University at home, but I'm finding here, I quite enjoy it.

ANGELES, DIABLITOS Y SIRENES

Yesterday afternoon, Thursday, Aurora took me and her daughter-in-law, Carla, on a little trip just outside Queretaro to the workshop of Francisco Coronel (sp?). I had met Francisco a few years ago, the first time I came to Queretaro with Eric Nichols as a student in his class. The whole class went to his magical little house on the edge of a hill, and he gave us a lecture about "Las Plantas" in spanish. Besides being an artist, he is an expert on the medicinal uses of native plants. At that time, I really didn't understand much of what he said, but he has a beautiful speaking voice and speaks very clearly. I was mesmerized.

Back then, we didn't get a tour of his workshop which is what we were treated to this time. His workshop is in his home, and he and his partner, Guadelupe, have a number of young people working for them. There were 7 or 8 there when we visited -- but I think there are more. Some go to school in the morning and work with him in the afternoon, and some do the reverse. Francisco showed us the process for making his fantastical figures of angels and devils and mermaids from beginning to end. They make a number of basic shapes with what we call papier mache (newspaper or cardboard and a mixture of flour and water) and then combine the shapes in different ways to make different kinds of figures. Right now, they are very busy filling orders for Navidad. That is Francisco holding forms at various stages of completion.

And here is Guadelupe painting the insides of these lovely little book boxes that are like retablos. You open the box like a book and on one half are painted figures (what he is doing now) and on the other are little 3 dimensional figures: Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus and an angel. They are making hundreds of them as a special order --- all by hand.

Other kinds of things are little fat angels or mermaids -- a lot of Dia de los Muertos skeletons of all kinds -- some beautiful Virgen de Guadalupes -- Christmas balls. Fantastical, whimsical, imaginative, colorful and beautiful!!

After our tour of the workshop part of the house, Francisco took us into the part that they live in. It is impossible to describe in words so I will let pictures tell the story:

And here is our group: Francisco, Aurora, Carla and, at the table some of the young women doing the first stage of the work -- the paper and glue.

After our trip to Francisco's, we picked up Aurora's granddaughter, Sophia at school and Aurora and Javier, who joined us, treated me to lunch at La Mariposa where I had a delicious pozole. This is a picture of Sophia playing with the miniature tea set I gave her for her cumpleanos (very late present). She is a delightful 6 year old whose joy at getting an unexpected present was evident and whose pleasure in playing with the little set at our table gave ME great pleasure also.

EL DIA DE LOS MUERTOS

This is old news now since Muertos was on November 1 -- I've got lots of experiences to catch up on here. I didn't take my computer with me, so couldn't keep up with my promise to make daily entries. So the next several blog posts will be about the last 2 weeks while Marty and Bill were visiting.

We went to Patzcuaro in the state of Michoacan on October 30 by bus -- took about 6 hours because we had to change buses in Morelia. But it was quite comfortable -- bus is the preferred mode of travel here, and the first class buses are pretty luxurious. We got a little bag of food and beverage as we boarded, movies were shown continuously (headphones provided), and there were banos.

Patzcuaro is the largest of the pueblitos surrounding Lake Patzcuaro. In prehispanic times, nearby Tzintzuntzan was the capital of the Tarascan empire. After the arrival of the Spaniards in the 16th century, Vasco de Quiroga, a bishop, persuaded the Spanish king to allow him to replace a guy named Guzman who had been murdering and exploiting cruelly the local indigenous people. Quiroga was a very humanistic man with a vision, and he established a sort of utopian community in the area. The people of each village were encouraged to develop their own handicrafts and were taught the essentials of self government. To this day, each village around the lake is known for its own particular craft: copper working, guitar making, pottery, needlework, hat making, and basketry.

Patzcuaro is a particular favorite this time of the year for tourists, both Mexican and international, because the festivities surrounding El Dia de los Muertos are most traditional and have continued unchanged for years. The town is filled with tourists and with flowers -- I think more flowers than tourists. All the residents of the area are buying flowers to decorate the graves of their loved ones. The main flower market (a tianguis, indigenous word for temporary market) happened to be in the wide street in front of our B & B, El Refugio en Patzcuaro, so it was a very busy place for the first 3 days we were there.





The tradition of El Dia de los Muertos is a sort of combination of Catholic and indigenous traditions. It is similar to what we call Halloween. Mexicans have also adopted our Halloween, and every night kids run around in costumes asking for dinero o dulces.

When the Spaniards came and began their effort to convert indigenous people to Catholicism, they tried to obliterate the "blasphemous" beliefs of the natives, but often it worked better to just meld them together. I don't know much about Catholicism, and I don't remember much from my early Episcopal upbringing, but I believe Nov. 2 is All Saints' Day.

Anyway, we arranged to go on a tour of some cemeteries the night of Nov.1 led by Miguel Angel Nunez, a local anthropologist. Before we left, he talked with us about the traditions surrounding Muertos. There are slight regional differences in the celebrations, but he emphasized that this is not a gloomy or scarey event. The belief is that on this night around midnight, there is an opening in the cosmos, and the spirits of dead family members can return to visit. The living decorate the graves with flowers, pictures and favorite things of the dead person including favorite foods and water. They also spend the night in the cemetery so they will be present when their loved one visits. It is a very social experience with people moving around visiting with others or just sitting together around the grave eating, drinking and talking. We visited 3 cemeteries: Tzintzuntzan, Cucuchucho, and Tzurumutaro. Miguel assured us that they do not consider it an imposition or disrespectful for tourists to visit and take pictures. So here are some of my favorites:

RATON DE BIBLIOTECA

That's "bookworm" in English.

As I said in the last post, I had started reading "The Girl Who Played With Fire" and couldn't put it down. So when I got up yesterday (Sunday), I wanted to start reading again but felt guilty thinking I should be doing other things like writing my blog, or studying spanish, or working on photos. But then I thought, "Well, who's to say what I SHOULD be doing". So I gave myself permission to spend the entire day reading -- I remembered doing that a lot when I visited my grandmother as a kid.

However, it was a beautiful day outside and one thing this house lacks is a place to sit outside and read. So I decided I would go to a plaza and sit in the shade reading. First I went to Jardin Guerrero where I bought a gordita for lunch and sat for a while reading. A young man was sitting nearby making a sculpture out of wire.

After an hour or so, I moved on to another place, Jardin Zennea -- but only after getting some popcorn to munch on while reading. Later I walked over to the Mariposa to get a fabulous capuchino malteada and settled myself in Jardin Libertad under the statue of Dona Josefa to enjoy drinking and reading. That was fine until a rock band with a terrible sound system started to play nearby. So I moved on to Plaza de Armas where I was just in time to hear one of my favorite tunes (I believe it's from Phantom of the Opera) being played by a trio of strings. They played a couple more tunes before finishing, and then announced that next week is a festival of baroque music. There will be a performance every night in a different cathedral. Not to miss!!

After reading for a bit longer in Plaza de Armas, I was a bit hungry so went to Chucho el Roto for a bowl of my favorite soup, creme of huitlacoche (corn fungus) and a glass of wine. I finished the book --- great ending -- and strolled back to Jardin Zennea to see what was going on. There is always some kind of concert happening there on Sunday evenings. This time it was a folklorico type dance performance by groups of young people -- the dances represented traditions from different states: Guerrero, Jalisco, Nayarit, etc. Really lovely.

On the way home at about 7:30, I stopped to buy some pan dulce from the woman on the corner. What a great day! My favorite things; reading, eating, listening to music, watching dance.

BACK IN TOWN

I'm back in Queretaro after traveling with Marty and Bill to Patzcuaro and Mexico City. I went to the airport with them on Friday and caught a bus from there to Qro. -- a very easy trip. As the bus approached Qro. I was aware of how nice it felt to be "coming home". The sky was clear and the air crisp and clean -- very different from the big city -- and it was a bit chilly. It sort of felt like my town.

Yesterday (Saturday) I went for a long walk past Plaza de la Constitucion and then back around to "my" plaza in front of Santa Rosa. Families were out with children -- children were playing around the fountains and pulling these funny little toys that are sold by venders in all the plazas, people were talking or working on their laptops (the city provides WiFi in the plazas). This is all around a very sociable, clean and beautiful city. AND in "my" plaza, the fountains were working again!! I was treated to wonderful, lively mexican music accompanied by the dancing fountains. A great welcome home.

More posts will follow with pictures and descriptions of our trip. Right now I have been sucked into a great book that my friend Lynne sent back here with Kikey as a birthday present: Steig Larssen's "The Girl Who Played With Fire" -- can't put it down. Thanks Lynne!