Tuesday, November 27, 2007

The Christmas House From Hades

There is a lot of noise pollution in Oaxaca. Salespeople frequent our street selling various foods, wares and services. All of them have their particular call. We’ve gotten used to most. Ignacio our water guy brings us water bottles on his tricycle or triciculo(a large three-wheeled bike with a platform for carrying water in his case). He calls agua when he nears the house. Other water guys yell agua too, but their calls are not precisely the same in tone and pitch as Ignacio's. After a couple of months, I can distinguish his call from the other salesmen.


I’ve already written about the trash guys and their cow bell. We hear the bell first, around 5:45 in the morning, as it rounds the corner behind our house. This warns one of us that it’s time to get up and get ready for the truck. Ten minutes later, the bell tolls in the front of the house and we throw our bags of trash in with our other neighbors. Jason gets up Mon, Wed and Fri…I wake to the bell on Sun, Tue and Thu…we sleep in on Saturdays. That’s the cow bell. Our alarm clock.


The company that replaces gas canisters plays a recorded jingle…They announce themselves over a loud mic as the truck passes, Gas de Oaxaca, kilos exactos…Interesting how they advertise. The company wants you to know right off hand that they will not rip you off! They give you a tank with the exact number of kilos promised. We’ve gotten a few good laughs out of the Gas de Oaxaca diddy…you can imagine how we have used the material for jokes. These trucks are all over the place and mostly we’ve learned to tune them out, though recently, when Jason hiked to the top of one of Oaxaca’s surrounding hills, he looked over the city, nature surrounding him and he realized…he could still hear the Gas de Oaxaca truck, echoing up from the valley.



Not as frequent, but also loud and distinct is the tamales lady, the donut guy (he comes around 11 PM every night, his call is seductive…donuts, he says, you need donuts) and neighborhood religious processions, usually Catholic. Last week, our neighbor across the street hosted a statue of Mary at her house. This is a particularly popular relic…Mary wearing a sort of golden Christmas-tree like dress. The host family set up chairs and microphones and speakers. For about four hours, they blasted into the neighborhood religious music (from CDs) and the live mass associated with this representation of Mary that was being displayed in my neighbor’s yard. I think it was an attempt at evangelization. I may be going out on a limb with this statement, but I don’t think it would go over well in a typical US neighborhood.



So, why so much noise? Houses in Oaxaca are concrete construction and stucco. The streets are concrete. In our neighborhood, the houses are built right to the street’s edge. There are no front yards. Sounds reverberate, they echo, they travel, whether intentional or accidental, right through the window of la casa (which is always open in this climate) and into the occupant’s ears. Using proclamation to sell goods is smart, and aside from the donut guy and the trash bell, all this noise pollution takes place during the day.



That is, until our backyard neighbor (he lives on the same street behind our house where Ana Marie’s taqueria resides) decided to add music to his Christmas light display. About three nights ago, the lights went up on a variety of houses, some very elaborate. One particular household set up speakers in their yard and began blasting Christmas music at about 9 PM. It played all night. I thought that was a fluke, that someone had forgotten to turn off the music (and lights…they also blink all night…see photo), but I believe now that this celebrative act will take place from now until Navidad. I’m not sure how I will maintain my sanity.



This music is possibly the worst Christmas compilation I’ve ever heard. No lullaby-like Silent Night…the stuff is plinky and punchy, with a strong polka beat, electric keyboard fare. Each song lasts about 45 seconds and leads right into the next. It takes the entire program about ½ hour to cycle through. Do the math! I have done the calculation, late at night while staring up at the ceiling. I potentially listen to the same songs about 12-14 times every night….more math, if the music plays every night until the 24th, this will equal 400 torturous rounds.


While awake, in addition to doing math problems, I have plotted crazy things, like how to avenge my loss of sleep. I don’t know about you, but I get a little crazy in situations like this, so don’t be alarmed by these terrible midnight fantasies. One idea I had…disperse sugar around the house to attract colonies of ants into their yard. Or how about donning a black cape, sneaking over to cut the wires of the evil speakers. Other cheery options, hiding rotten eggs in the yard, stabbing a threatening note to the door with a bowie knife…I suppose I could walk over and ask them to please turn their music off by midnight, but what if the person at the door tilts his head, laughs and says, “You silly gringa, this is our country. We don’t live by your rules. We do what we want”? which is true. One of the charms of this place…less rigidity, fewer rules…Ah the dilemma.



In the end, this issue may break me. I have tried to adjust to all things Mexican, finding tranquility in learning and accepting differences. Last night, after lying awake in my room for about 2 hours, I slept the final hour of the morning in the front of the house on our sofa, until the cow bell roused me from my groggy state.


I have gotten used to most of the night noises around our house, cars and motorcycles without mufflers racing down the street, cracking concussions from fireworks, usually happening around holidays, and all manner of dog activities that reach our ears in the wee hours (except for one yappy dog who seems to be left outside only once a month…I can never sleep on those nights). I confess, I’m a bit of an insomniac (aren’t all writers?) in some seasons more than others and maybe, this will be one of those seasons.

Monday, November 26, 2007

End of the Season

Dragones before their final match-up.

I can hardly believe our little league experience in Oaxaca is over...not that we won't go to a few more practices (for old time's sake). The Dragones continue to practice because they will play again in the Spring, but without Gabe Jensen. In addition, 4 of our best players are moving into the next age bracket...13 to 14 year-olds, so the Dragones are starting over, with fresh players, many of whom are very green. I wonder what kind of season they'll have.

Our last game was a forfeit...the other team didn't show. Perhaps word got around that the Dragones are no longer to be toyed with! We spent the two hours in a parent/kid scrimmage. We all had fun and then enjoyed a taco potluck together.

It's difficult to fathom how different our Fall would have been without baseball. Many of our afternoons and most of our Saturday mornings have been spent on the ball field. Many of our Oaxacan acquaintances, our favorite cross-cultural moments and our best stories have come out of little league. So now what?

Gabe will play soccer with an afterschool club at school. He's been aching to play more soccer in recent weeks and he's starting with guitar lessons today. Abby has been swimming with a swim team in Oaxaca.

To give a word of credit to big sister...Abby was a completely dedicated fan throughout the season, never complaining and always enjoying her brother's sport. (She often contributes in our family in the areas of joy, good attitude and high spirits). She gets to receive in kind from younger brother this coming weekend as she participates in her first and only swim meet in Mexico. We're heading to the coast, to Huatulco for the event and bit of beach action.

Ah..La Liga Monte Alban. Thank you for welcoming us into your baseball community, and thank you, Dragones, for your patience with the foreigners in your midst. We'll miss you.







Sunday, November 25, 2007

Tlayudas


This posting has to do with food, so prepare yourself. We have a taco stand in our back yard (almost literally) and the food is glorious. The stand is called Ana Marie’s.

Jason convinced me to try one of Ana Marie’s tacos after a couple of weeks of living in Oaxaca. You can’t get more convenient than a taco stand behind your house and the smells that waft up from the grill, that of bbqu’d steak and costilla (pork) are enough to get a person all riled up. I haven’t found cooking in Oaxaca to be the most rewarding experience. If I were going to be here for another year, I would work harder, but at this point, I cook and we eat about three or four of the same dishes every week. Needless to say, tacos, tortas (grilled sandwiches) and tlayudas, all served by Ana Marie, are welcome in our casa.

Many people who visit Oaxaca rave about the tacos al pastor (tacos with barbequed marinated pork and pineapple) or chicken mole. We have enjoyed some amazing plates of Oaxacan food since arriving in August, but probably my favorite is the tlayuda. What is a tlayuda you ask…I had never heard of a tlayuda before coming to Oaxaca and to be honest I was a bit scared to try one.

Ana Marie changed my mind. She’s the young-looking grandmother who runs the stand behind our house. She starts up the fire every night around dark. It takes about ½ hour to stoke the fire and prepare all the fresh ingredients which she brings with her each evening. Her taco stand is a metal box. It’s about 8’ by 12’ in floor size. She runs it with one of her 15 grandchildren (Ana Marie is 52 with 5 children and yes, 15 grandchildren). She’s great, always wearing a baseball cap while she cooks as she prepares her masterpieces. She’s a chef for the neighborhood and we all emerge to the scent of her grilled meat.

Ana Marie knows me as juera (blondie) and frankly, we’ve become close. After 3 months in Oaxaca, there is nothing that I crave like one of Ana Marie’s tlayudas. It all starts around 10 in the morning when I walk home from the gym, sore from my pilates work out. I usually have my cappuccino in hand, but it doesn’t matter. I pass that tlayuda stand and I start craving the product. From 10 AM on, I think about bbqed steak, cut up into small pieces, plopped on a large corn tortilla, folded in half…this is put on the bbq again to melt the quesillo (Oaxacan string cheese) to perfection over those chunks of steak, with a light smattering of refritos (beans) salsa, lettuce, hot sauce and avocado. At 6:30, when she is unlocking the metal booth, I am at her side, ordering my tlayuda for the night. I’ll have to wait until 7:00 to pick it up. By that time, I am starving, feeling very European as I bite down on my late-night cena, Ana Marie’s delectable tlayuda. Thank God for the metal taco stand in my backyard.



Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Tis the Season

I know a few of you don’t particularly like warm weather. You love cold, rain, wind, sleet, snow, wearing lumpy turtleneck sweaters and blasting heat through your floor vents in the wee hours of the morning, but for those of you who don’t, buy property in Oaxaca now! Today, the temperature peaked at 87 degrees and it isn’t showing any signs of letting up. White, puffy clouds, blossoming trees, and evenings that make me want to take up cigar smoking…just so I can have another excuse to sit up on our roof in the balmy evening air and take in the stars. This is Winter in Oaxaca.

And the tourist season is booming. The Canadians have put away their parkas, the Europeans have traded in their Euros for Pesos and many Americans, especially retirees are trekking down to Oaxaca to spend their holiday in paradise. Though I’m sad to say it, I predict that this city will triple in size in the next ten years. Property values will sky-rocket and more and more of us, North of the Border types will come here to live. It’s already happening on a small scale. Many of those who are tired of the rat race (especially artists) are seeing the light. They’re realizing that they can find community, live on less money, enjoy really good tacos and not worry about climbing any ladders because most Mexicans don’t climb the proverbial ladder…they hang out on one of the bottom or middle rungs and enjoy the company of those around them. I’m stretching that extended metaphor a bit far, but this is my blog… so I’m taking the liberty!

Tranquilo, tranquilo, tranquilo…These are the holidays in Oaxaca and tis the season to be reminding you all…Wish you were here…you’re still invited for a visit! (This offer expires on January 9th, 2008.)

Monday, November 19, 2007

Por Fin, Ganamos! (Finally, We Won!)

Well, at least the grandparents will cheer when they hear that on Saturday, our second to last game of the season, we won, 10 to 6. Gabe played the entire game, no bench warming involved and hit a triple a single and made an out while playing 2nd base. It’s enough to make a parent want to post a new blog entry…

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

The Team Clown

So, the Dragones, though improving at every practice, have not won a game yet. It can be demoralizing, but what can you do? It helps that we have Alejandro, the team clown.


Alejandro comes to practice every week on his inline skates. This is a respectable feat in and of itself, given the street and sidewalk hazards in Oaxaca (see September 9 post). Alejandro plays an important role for the Dragones…he is the by far the worst player and he knows it. For this reason, he never comes to games…or he comes and watches to support the team, but he must love baseball because he faithfully shows up to practices. He bats, throws and catches with the rest of the team. Last week, I realized how important he is to the Dragones. It’s not just that he jokes, teases and makes fun of himself continuously, causing everyone to laugh and lighten up. It’s also important for some of our new players who aren’t so good, to feel that they are not alone. They are not the worst player on the team because…hey…look, it’s Alejandro. He can barely play baseball, but wow, does he have a good time.


Every team needs an Alejandro and the coaches know it. They love him and they play easy on him when it’s his turn to bat or throw or field the ball. Take infield practice. Blancas gets the boys to line up at third, where there is the understanding that they will take turns fielding ground balls and throwing to first base…standard infield practice. When it is Gabe’s turn, Blancas hits a fast ground ball to him. If you’ve never played baseball before, this is a terrifying moment in a ball player’s life…not knowing if that ball is going to take a bad bounce and hit you in the groin, or the neck or the face. The command from the coach is “en frente”…or get in front of the ball. This is a basic baseball skill and the good players will almost always stop the ball from getting past them. The better a player gets, the less fear he feels. Gabe, for example, has become a confident infielder. After months of these drills, when the ball is hit, he gets himself in front of the ball, fields it and makes a straight hard throw to first base.


Alejandro steps up for his turn and it’s another matter. First, he will miss the hard grounder as it rolls under his legs, his mitt not quite low enough to stop the ball. You’ve see this sight on any number of baseball flicks…Bad News Bears, for one. The second grounder, Alejandro watches as it goes by to his left… the fear of that hard grounder keeping him from getting in front of the ball.


“Ay Ay Ay…” coach Blancas says and slaps his head, at which point Alejandro throws up his arms and cracks a joke. Blancas laughs and hits him a soft grounder. This one, Alejandro stops with his mitt, grabbing the ball with his throwing arm and releasing his high-arced rainbow to first base. All the other players pat him on the back and he goes to the end of the line to wait for his next turn.



I suppose it’s unfair to focus on Alejandro in this way, but Blancas told us a story last week that made me think it might be appropriate. Blancas coached Vinny Castilla Soria and his big brother when they were young. Big brother was always the promising player, strong, physically agile and quick. Vinny was scrawy and weak, but he loved to play ball. Vinny’s brother lost interest in baseball eventually and became a business man. Vinny stayed with baseball and went on to become one of the best Mexican players to get to the Majors. May it be so for Alejandro.

Saturday, November 10, 2007

Dia de Los Muertos


Those of us living in California have become more and more familiar with Latin American and Mexican holidays, so Dia de Los Muertos, celebrated on November 1 and 2, might ring a bell. Day of the Dead is one of the most important holidays in Mexico. A Oaxacan mom friend, who works for the airline Mexicana, said all flights were over-booked on the Dia de Los Muertos weekend and into the week. Mexicans travel from all over to be with their loved ones as they honor their dead. She went as far to say that the celebration is even more important than Christmas for families. Jason and I contemplated how Thanksgiving for us in the US is a holiday that draws family members together. Muertos reminded us of our special November holiday, with two days off school and all the traditional foods taking their place on the table (During Dia de Los Muertos, special bread is eaten, chicken mole is served and lots of hot chocolate is drunk by the time November 3rd rolls around). One large difference between the holidays is that the focus of Muertos is less on food, more on remembrance.
On November 1st, Jason and I traveled to the cemetery to see the action and that night we brought the children back to see how the celebration was unfolding. Scores of families were cleaning and decorating grave sites. Hundreds of merchants had set up shop, selling flowers, food and drink, a few kiddie rides had been brought in to keep the little ones in celebration mode. This scene did not feel like a place of mourning. Though the Mexicans do grieve for their dead, they also live among them differently than what I am used to. They seem to exist in a state between natural and supernatural…there is not as strong a division between those two realities, so having a party at the gravesite of Tia Juanita, is like enjoying her company. Though she is dead, her presence is still among them.

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

Jorge Martinez Blancas...or Humbled in Oaxaca

Our new little league “trainer" has transformed our practices and his mantra is “Vamanos Alegres”…Let’s be happy. That’s what he wants. He wants to boys and girl to be happy when playing, to have fun, I suppose this would be an accurate translation. He’s also teaching them ball skills along the way…I’ve missed the last 4 practices, first we missed two because of being in PEscondido, then I missed because of my ear infection.

Being back on the field today, I saw the transformation. He has the kids “playing baseball” and not “thinking baseball”…if that makes sense. I’ll try to explain the distinction…it’s still a bit fuzzy to me. I suppose I noticed it because everyone was hitting, and I mean everyone, down to the last wimpy player. Gabe is hitting better than ever, but so are all the other players. Blancas moves batting practice very quickly…today starting everyone on bunts and his command was to make contact no matter what. Even if the pitch was high or in the dirt, he wanted them going for contact. They got as many pitches as they needed to get the bunt. Most made contact on that first pitch…especially by the third round. One batter was on deck, one bunting and the rest were in outfield, rotating from first to third. Playing the bunt wasn’t the issue and things moved fast. Next, he let them do one good hit, again going round the rotation, then two hits…(he was pitching).

After that, we played a scrimmage and he got a few of us parents involved. I was one of the fools, of course, because I always bring my mitt and wear the appropriate clothes in case they need my help. We were all players and all got to bat. My first at bat was a strong showing. Blancas seemed surprised. In the next inning, I played right field and had to sprint to catch a fly ball that Gabe hit and couldn’t get to it. I admit, I was feeling a bit of vertigo from my ear infection, but that’s not an excuse. I simply couldn’t get to that ball. It's harder than it looks!
Following that fiasco, we made our third out and I was first up. I felt winded from my run, but ready to whack the ball again in true Susi style, but Blancas was on to me and pitched outside. I did not catch on. He was toying with me and laughing the entire time. I did swing hard at that second pitch and lost my balance, twirled and landed on my butt in the dirt. The parents in the bleachers were roaring and so was Blancas. He had this gleam in his eye and got me swinging and missing on the next pitch as well. The subsequent batter was another parent and Blancas struck him out too, grinning like an evil trickster (okay, that may be too strong…not evil, but yes, he was throwing some funky stuff to us). Meanwhile, I am a bit embarrassed and covered in dirt, trying to avoid the glinting eyes of the parents who will, I’m sure, tell this tale to their great grandchildren, about the gringa who thought she was hot stuff, but fell in the dirt like a circus clown, all for their amusement.

I was redeemed at my next at bat. I took the advice I’m always giving to Gabe...to be patient…I was patient and got my hit. Blancas also may have felt a bit of remorse for getting me to go after that terrible curve ball.

Gabe was three for three in the scrimmage, hit a homerun over the left-fielder’s head and had a great practice. I was sore like heck and ready for bed!

Sure enough, the following day, Blancas laughed at me about the "curve ball" he had thrown, checking to see if I showed any signs of being angry. I wasn't angy, I told him, just humbled. He invited us to his house for pollo and mole. I think in his own way he was trying to make amends for causing a 40-year-old woman to fall in the dirt in front of spectators.