A Fair Day

On Wednesday I decided to venture out to the Yucatan State Fair in the outlying village of Xmatkuil. La Dulce arrives today and I wanted to familiarize myself with the process in case she wants to visit this event while she is here.

First, I located the bus to Xmatkuil. It parks alongside Calle 69 between Calles 58 and 60, sort of south of the markets. The fare is 6 pesos (yes, city buses are up this year from the former 5 peso charge). The bus essentially follows Calle 50 south out of the city and ends up in Xmatkuil. It’s a nice exploratory ride with pleasant Mayan voices surrounding you.

The bus drops you at the entrance to the fair. The entrance fee is 12 pesos and you then are thrust into the fairgrounds with throngs of people.

It pretty much reminded me of my former life’s Missouri State Fair in Sedalia. There are pavilions with cattle, sheep and pigs. Carnival games and rides. Performance arenas with famous entertainers (I recognized the names Gloria Trevi and Bobby Pulido). A circus. Mexican rodeos. Farm implement and new car exhibtors. Furniture and clothing stalls. State and City exposition halls. Lots of cheap trinket and food vendors. A dolphin show. An ice skating show. An artificial snow machine with a hill you can tube down. You can build a snowman and have a snowball fight. And of course, you can watch some masked guys wrestle.

The fair runs through November 29.

On my return home, I discovered a Los Trompos restaurant on Calle 60 between 65 and 67. Now I don’t have to journey up to Gran Plaza mall to get my fix of a torta pastor extraordinaire.

Another day of amazing discoveries in this place called Mérida.

A Red Letter Day

“When we are young, the words are scattered all around us. As they are assembled by experience, so also are we, sentence by sentence, until the story takes shape.”
Louise Erdrich in The Plague of Doves

Few men know how to become old. I am trying to learn. Some days have more teachable moments than others.

I’m finding older Yucatecan women still know how to flirt. Their counterparts back in the States have largely abandoned that trait. I am in a land filled with tutors.

Back home I was a disgusting, heavy, aging guy. In Yucatan, fleshiness is desirable. Coupled with my height in this land of short Mayans, I am an imposing figure. Being a gringo adds to my intimidation factor.

Last night a lady around my age passed me on the street. She said I was a “dashing man”. Taken aback, I mumbled some piropo back and we both continued on our respective ways, comfortable with who we are. No regrets.

Where better to grow old than a city with parks and park benches every few blocks. Resting places for aging guys. Watching and learning.

I feel like I am in an Elderhostel classroom with a shot at the honor roll this month. I know I got a gold star yesterday.

A Modern Day Smithie

I sit at my door eating some papaya and sipping a little tea.

I enjoy the day without a care in the world.

I have been seduced at one point by this virgin land and its people and I have returned.

Because to create something new in life, it is sometimes necessary to go back.

To a simpler time and place.

Face to face with the mysteries of life.

Where do we come from?

Who are we?

Where are we going?

This isn’t an escape. It’s a chosen regimen.

To hope is to begin to live.

And I can only live by forging my illusions until they become of substance.

My anvil beckons.

¿Me recuerdas?

It’s been fun seeing familiar faces and learning new names. I especially like that some locals seem to remember me and be happy to see me. Sort of in the spirit of “the troll emerges from under the bridge”.

They seem genuinely happy. Actual smiles that include their eyes. Involuntary twinkles. Some body twitches. Then I remember this is Mexico. Everybody is an actor. Nothing is involuntary.

Somedays I wonder if I am too gullible to live here.

My homeless buddy, Carlos, who lived in the doorway on Calle 57 behind Santiago’s market is gone. He’d lived there at least three years. I hope he is OK.

We´re going to the zoo, zoo, zoo. How about you, you, you?

The Casa on Calle 61 is well located. We’re seven blocks from the Plaza Grande and three from Santiago’s fountain and market. Four blocks the opposite direction gets us to Centenario Park and the zoo.

One morning recently I took my morning walk in Centenario. It’s a nice park with lovely tall trees and is always a little escape from the bustle of the city. (Except on weekends when screaming kids are everywhere.) On weekdays before 9:00 a.m. there is hardly anyone there. I saw maybe ten people other than workers.

At the end of the park is the city’s zoo. I know many people are opposed to the whole idea of zoos and animals in cages. You really wouldn’t like Mérida’s zoo. Compact cages and easy to see animals. It reminds me of my childhood trips to Swope Park in Kansas City.

In the early morning the animals are active. I especially enjoy the tigers, jaguars, giraffes and hippos. Sometimes I splurge on the one peso train ride. It, too, reminds me of childhood pleasures.

Occasionally on quiet evenings from up on our roof, you can hear the lions roar.

I like my animals close.

Back in the saddle again

I’ve been back in Mérida for over a week now. This is the start of five months here. La Dulce remains in Kansas working. She will join me three times during this sojourn. Ten days over Thanksgiving, two weeks during Christmas and for a month in February. Four weeks will be the longest we will be apart. Some tough times ahead as you may recall from her absences last winter. I’m sure my mood swings will spill over into some of my posts. Bear with me.

Heat greeted me on my arrival followed by rain every day since. Our French caretaker, Claude, says there’s a couple of hurricanes stirring things up.

I got 180 days on my tourist card at the airport with no problem. The Casa on Calle 61 looked fine. Mermaid pool was clean and full of water. And Claude had plugged in the refrigerator.

After a couple of days to readjust and re-acclimate, I am back in the saddle again. Here are a few random pics from the first day or two.

Happy trails to you….

Another night

Tonight, as evening shaped itself on Patio Escondido, I found me.

Every minute you perform hundreds of Karmic actions, yet you are hardly conscious of any of them. In the stillness of descending night, it is easier to listen to your mind, the source of all this activity. You learn to become aware of your actions and choices to a greater extent than normal. This awareness enables you to master you life rather than be mastered by it.

In the special light that is dusk, meditation is something you are one with; it is no longer a task to be done. What a special gift to sit quietly, watching the sky's first stars appear.

The street beyond the wall begins to quiet. So does my mind. Such perfect bliss.

Some more Buddha time

You should be an island to yourself, a refuge to yourself, not dependent on any other but taking refuge in the truth and none other than the truth. And how do you become an island and a refuge to yourself? In this way. You see and contemplate your body as composed of all the forces of the universe. Ardently and mindfully you steer your body-self by restraining your discontent with the world about you. In the same way, observe and contemplate your feelings and use that same ardent restraint and self-possession against enslavement by greed or desire. By seeing attachment to your body and feelings as blocking the truth, you dwell in self-possession and ardent liberation from those ties. This is how you live as an island to yourself and a refuge to yourself. Whoever dwells in this contemplation, islanded by the truth and taking refuge in the truth--that one will come out of the darkness and into the light.

- Digha Nikaya

There is an extremely easy way to become Buddha. Refraining from all evil, not clinging to birth and death, working in deep compassion for all sentient beings, respecting those over you and pitying those below you, without any detesting or desiring, worrying or lamentation, this is what is called Buddha. Do not search beyond it.

- Birth and Death, by Zen Master Dogen

They are happy indeed who own nothing at all; Those with highest knowledge own nothing at all. See how people who own things are afflicted, bound to others by their obligations.

- Udana 2.6

Remember the clear light, the pure clear white light from which everything in the universe comes, to which everything in the universe returns; the original nature of your own mind. The natural state of the universe unmanifest. Let go into the clear light, trust it, merge with it. It is your own true nature, it is home.

- Tibetan Book of the Dead

Hanal Pixan (Mayan Day of the Dead)

I made a simple little altar on Patio Escondido to remember my father for Day of the Dead. On it I placed his picture, a few flowers, some chess pieces, a Dr. Pepper, some peanuts and a handful of popcorn. I felt strangely close to him as I did this.

When I came back out a few minutes later, I noticed the peanuts were already gone. So was the popcorn. Who's to say that my dad did not use rodent or reptile teeth to chew his gifts?

I hope he enjoyed them. Tomorrow he can use my taste to enjoy the Dr. Pepper.

Haikus, Vol. 16

Stop. Pause. Contemplate.
Why am I in the study?
What am I after?

Less monkey chatter.
Aging mind is quiet mind.
Many ways to peace.

Walking slowly now.
Meditation in disguise.
What is happening?

The sun rests on me.
The present moment surrounds.
Ego slips away.

Sudden memory.
Find a pen for my crossword.
Back to the hammock.

There are many paths.
Lots of ways to lighten loads.
I let go some more.