El Ultimo Dia

We ate breakfast at the apartment and took off for our morning coffee, tried Spanish churros this time with our cafés con leche…less sweet than in Mexico, but still plenty greasy and good.

After coffee, we went to the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum across the street from the Prado. The collection of a certain baronness and what a collection! We were able to see rooms of impressionist paintings, Degas, Gauguin, Manet, Monet and also a Van Gogh sketch of a dutch woman, absolutely beautiful and a Goya sketch…so close up and detailed you feel like you could feel his pencil scratching the paper. We saw more Miro, Picasso, Dali (those Catalonian painters were so prolific…we’ve seen their stuff almost everywhere in Spain) Chagal, Warhol, Rothko…paintings that most of us would recognize because they’re iconic, which makes it kind of breath-taking to see the originals…A highlight for me, viewing Charing Crossing, one of those watery blue/white Claude Monet pieces. I sat and looked at it for a long time, knowing I might not see an original Monet for a while.

We forged on and went to a tapas bar this evening. We felt clueless at different points, but all of the wait staff were friendly and helped us order our food. We ate potatoes (not called “papas” like they are in Mexico…but “patatas”). We enjoyed the meat on skewers (bbqued while we waited), olives and bread. Though we frequently miss vegetables in the Spanish cuisine we’ve eaten, we keep plenty on stock in our refrigerator and for lunch today we ate at a vegetarian restaurant. This strategy usually makes up for the heavy protein intake our restaurant meals often provide.

Tomorrow, we wake early, eat breakfast and head to the airport. This trip has been absolutely wonderful. We’re excited to rejoin our families, but will remember this experience for many years to come. Thank you all for my 40th birthday gift (just in case I don’t get to thank you in person on the sooner side).

On Our Feet

Another day on our feet. In fact, we ran through Retiro Park this morning…4 miles or so…Retiro Park is the equivalent of Madrid’s Central Park, next to the Prado.

After our run, we applied ourselves to aggressive sight-seeing, stopping by the Palacio Real, the Cathedral near the palace and a church where Goya is buried, called Ermita de San Antonio de la Florida. Goya also painted the fresco on the ceiling…an enactment of San Antonio’s ministry of healing and preaching. We ate at Mingo’s near the Goya sight.

Mingo’s is famous for its roasted chicken and hard cider. We ate a chicken between us and shared a salad and a bottle of cider. The place was full of locals and we felt very savvy to have found the place. Oh yes, and the food, especially the chicken, was delicious. Mingo’s was written up in the Lonely Planet guide…right down to what you should order when you walk in the restaurant. We have abandoned the Rick Steve’s guide when it comes to food and taken up the Lonely Planet for all things culinary. This has helped us.

Case and point, I ate ice cream at another place from the guide…Giangrossi’s, with great coffees and homemade ice-cream (Sharon passed on the ice cream, but enjoyed her coffee). I ate three scoops of ice cream...flavors...Baileys, Vanilla and Cappuccino. Yummy! We haven't been majoring on sweets, so this was a great treat for me.

In the end, it felt like we ran and then walked all over town today, so despite our best intentions of doing a “tapas tour” tonight, we collapsed in the apartment, ate cucumbers, tomatoes, cheese, Wasa wheat crackers and shared stories from our past. This trip has been great for our friendship and tonight was one of those nights that brought us deeper. Not that we haven’t had our hard moments and conflict, but overall, what a blessing to be with Sharon, who is now saying evening prayers while I type out this entry.

The photo…one of the best parts of the day, was our breakfast. Sharon cooked up our 5 chorizo sausages in eggs. We bought the chorizo at our local butcher’s. They were so great, we bought 5 more tonight, so we can make those same eggs and eat them the morning after tomorrow. That marks the end of our trip. We’ll fix a large breakfast before our flight out of Madrid at noon on Sunday. We arrive home Sunday night. One more full day…not sure what we’ll do, but looking forward to the adventure.

Oh...worth mentioning to Alex...Sharon got her boots shined today. They look fabulous and to the rest of you all, the first droplets of rain fell on us this morning...a very negligible amount, but enough to remind us of the great weather we've had while traveling. We are so thankful.

Guernica, no...Flamenco, yes

Well, unfortunately, Guernica was not on display at the Reina Sofia. We are crushed, but the Flamenco show we went to tonight, Zambra 5.1, made up for it. We happen to be visiting Madrid during the 26th annual Flamenco Festival. That's good because I may be getting my fill of paintings and sculpture, not sure, but today I seemed to hit overload and went home after lunch to read. Sharon went back to the Sofia and saw some pieces she liked, mostly moderns and sculptures.

One wonderful side bonus of the Sofia was an exhibit featuring Flamenco art and film. We got a taste of the Flamenco tradition before our theater show. An item that caught my eye was a few 1932 reviews of the Flamenco dancer, Vicente Escudero. He did a tour of the major US cities in that year to rave reviews. Here's what the New York Times wrote about his performance to a sold-out crowd in the city.

His dancing is a thing of amazing skill. There is an electric energy to it that transforms his body from the motionlessness of stone in an instant to a veritable dynamo of nervous activity...he moves with the easy grace of a fine animal, his chest held high and his feet picking their way with the daintiness of a cat...

Leave it to the New York Times to capture the artistic moment on paper, even the newspaper. The show we saw tonight featured two exceptional flamenco guitarists, a singer with an incredible tenor voice and a female dancer. We had a great evening, loving the music and the dancing...so much energy in the theater. We're back in the apartment, eating our evening meal and planning our day tomorrow to the palace.

If you're into Flamenco music at all, check out Zambra 5.1. The guitar music in particular is stunning.

Click on:http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flamenco for more info on Flamenco music...

El Prado

We slept late, ate breakfast at our apartment, grabbed a coffee at a café near the Prado (see photo…I am determined to post multiple photos of me holding a coffee cup) and entered the museum at 11:30 AM. We spent all day there (except for a 2 hour lunch at a place called “Finca” Susana…Susana’s lodge or estate) and left at closing, which is 8 PM. We still didn’t see everything. The art was wonderful, everything we had hoped for. I appreciated having Sharon with me to give me periodic art history lessons. Basically, we walked through the history of art (from 1300s until 1900s) in Spain. Much of the influence comes from France and the Netherlands during those years, but there is a distinct Spanish style of which the Prado is very proud. As off season patrons of the museum, we had few crowds and saw two special exhibitions, including an exceptional exhibition of Velasquez and his development as an artist, as well as a Goya sketch room (a room that included sketches from his personal sketch book…very weird). As an aside, we were in the room with about two people when we stepped back and saw Las Meninas, the painting that some feel is the most important painting in the world…Of course the Spanish feel that!

There is much religious art in the Prado and we absorbed all of that with joy. Plus, the El Greco paintings have a certain icon style to them that we both appreciated. All in all, a great day. Tomorrow we head to the Reina Sophia to see Picasso’s Guernica. The other photo is Sharon in our beloved apartment. Here is our evening meal. Manchego cheese (semi-curado…semi-cured), French herbed cream cheese, jamon (ham) de Iberia, tomatoes, cucumbers, red onions, vino, water and Wasa crackers, our tribute to my Swedish ancestry and a helpful addition of fiber for beautiful, but diabetic Sharon. We continue to love every minute of our travels. Both of us are healthy now. Even Sharon’s cough has dissipated.

Madrid

(will post a photo later today)

We have landed in our little apartment, a great space, a few blocks from Plaza Mayor. Laundry was first on the agenda and then menu of the day. We hit a joint down the street that looked crowded with locals (so far we haven’t eaten at one place recommended by our travel books). Menu of the day included a “Primero”, “Segundo”, drink, bread and dessert. We both ordered salads and I ordered red wine, Sharon ordered mineral water. My Segundo was fresh fish and Sharon’s was roasted chicken. Both came with homemade french fries, both were delicious. Our waiter was hilarious, reminded me of that actor who stars in the King of Queens (anyone remember his name?). He would give us no recommendations, but was humored by our questions about the food and poured wine into our glasses, seeming determined to empty the entire bottle on us. We’ve come to the conclusion that wine is cheaper than water here. In fact, at the dorm in Avila (yes it was a dorm with plenty of older teens residing there…not to mention monks…) served wine to all its inhabitants lunch and dinner (not breakfast, thankfully).

Teresa of Jesus

We’re in Madrid now, but I need to write about our second day in Ávila.

We visited the convent that is built about a century after Teresa died, on the site of the house where she grew up and also spent time in the cathedral that honors her. The visit was worthwhile and spiritually inspirational. Teresa was an incredible soul with a passion for loving God, maybe unparalleled in her century. While at the convent, we saw various relics…including Teresa’s finger with an emerald ring on it (gross)…and bone fragments from St. John of the Cross (less gross). Despite my initial gut reaction, I did a bit of research on the finger, since looking at the decaying body part of someone famous/spiritual left me wondering...Why? I would have taken a photo of the finger, but you’re not allowed to snap one of that relic.

As a Protestant, I was trying to have an open mind as I researched…finding out that Teresa’s body after being buried did not rot like most bodies…legend or truth…not sure? Her devotees found that her gravesite was giving off a beautiful rose odor, even months after her death, so her body was exhumed and was discovered to not have decayed. Three doctors studied her corpse and indicated this truth (says the website).

I immediately thought of the Exodus story and how when it was time for Moses to die, God had him wander off and allowed no one to find his body, perhaps because his followers would have been tempted to take the body and try to extend his influence.

It truly is amazing the influence Teresa had within the church, esp. here in Spain and she was well loved by those in her convents. Was it too difficult for them to let her go? Teresa's life spanned a time in Catholic Spain that was difficult and violent (The Inquisition). Maybe her followers needed the body, the finger as a reminder of the vision that Teresa imparted to them.

But, I suppose, I fall into the Moses camp, thinking, it’s better to leave the body in the earth…remember the life, respect the memory by living out that person’s vision. This is how true influence is extended. Is that very Protestant of me? I suppose it is.

In addition to the Teresa sites, we saw a couple of beautiful cathedrals, one is the oldest gothic cathedral in Spain. The architecture takes your breath away…it is so enormous and beautifully designed. We saw an El Greco in that cathedral and illuminated manuscripts, among other various sculptures and paintings and even antique priests’ robes. Avila is a charming town and Sharon and I loved it.

Aside from this prayer retreat, we have realized that our trip is evolving into mostly an art trip. We pretty much sacrifice all for the art…going without food, sleep, drink and I even held my pee until I was near to bursting yesterday because there was no baño in the cathedral and I didn’t want to leave without seeing all. So, I begin to see the metaphor. Sacrifices must be made for art. In reality, I should be living that every day. At least…I am in Spain.

Avila

by Sharon

Onward. We are enjoying our time in Avila immensely. A nice and historic city. We are staying at a pension that is attached to the church, Santo Tomas, an old and beautiful church. I feel that God is blessing this part of our trip with lots of little mercies. Our flight to Madrid went without a hitch. We happened to get onto the express train to Avila right after we landed and a jaunt on the metro. I got money with seemingly no service charge on this end. We got to our pension on foot not knowing the directions to our place and with no workable map. We got in and basically ran a good distance to catch some time on the wall surrounding the old town of Avila which we loved. A lot of history and the best preserved defensive wall in all of Europe. Today also happens to be the feast day of St. Thomas, the patron saint of this parish. So, there will be a special mass and celebration. What a treat! This place is very inexpensive, I think 38 Euros for room and board. The food is OK so far we'll see today. There are some student teachers here, Chinese young people, and a smattering of others. Probably a third full. We eat on these long tables spanning the length of the dining hall. I look forward to sight-seeing and retreating today.

Gaudi

Walking is the theme of the day…as is Antoni Gaudí. What an amazing day. We walked and walked and walked (in our nice shoes this time…on day one we wore our running shoes…not today…for style reasons. The Spanish are very stylish about shoes). We visited Park Grüell and Gaudí’s home which has been transformed into a museum. It was Saturday and the park was filled with people: couples, families, women or men pushing strollers, teens and children, grandparents and tourists, of course. The weather was so warm, we saw many in T-shirts. This great weather has been one of the greatest gifts of our time so far.

We also visited Sagrada Familia, the most amazing cathedral of modern times I have ever seen…a work in progress, a true work of art, begun by Gaudí and continued by the community. All the monies for the project come through private donation. The master plan is Gaudí’s, but the practical reality is being worked out by thousands of artists and artisans today. Gaudí died in 1926, this project still goes on in his name. The façade on one side, the stations of the cross and crucifixion…the façade on the entrance, the nativity and joyful mysteries around Jesus’ birth. The towers are enormous and my words cannot quite capture the enormity of the place.

We entered the Contemporary museum of art (we were not impressed) and ate at a sidewalk tapas place and people watched, then took the metro back to the hotel. We’re packing for Ávila now. We both could have visited more places in Barcelona, but we’re excited for a chance to enjoy a more focused spiritual pilgrimage in Ávila among the Carmelites. We will take one day for prayer retreat and one day to see the sights in town, most of which have to do with Teresa and St. John of the Cross. Sharon and I have both been reading Interior Castles, by Teresa and have reason to visit this special spiritual locale. We may not post for a couple of days. We’re not sure what our internet access will be, but hopefully, we’ll be back online in Madrid.
Sharon says she’s feeling better, but still on the mend. She’s thankful (Bora) for that ½ marathon training she did all Fall because walking has been easy despite her cold…so thanks for having that 40th birthday celebration and road race. We miss you.

Dali

Despite a difficult time driving out of Barcelona in our rental car this morning, the day went smoothly and we enjoyed our excursion. The Dali Museum is possibly the weirdest, certainly the most unique place I have ever visited. Besides the alligator singing opera, the bread loaves stuck all over the stone façade, the Cadillac where, of course, rain falls inside the car instead of outside when you put a Euro in the machine, or the furniture set against a black wall that from a distance appears to be the face of Mae West…I could go on and on. You have to go there sometime. I feel like I’ve been through the genius and disturbed psyche of Salvador Dali.

Following the museum, Sharon and I, wanting to make the most of our rental car, headed for the Costa Brava. We found the town of Tossa and ate dinner at a restaurant adjacent to a castle on a rock at the shore’s edge. We tried to order Catalonian food, including a “sampler plate from Girona”…turned out to be what is pictured here…hanging sausages. When it arrived at our table, we burst into laughter. Clearly, my Oaxaca Spanish has some limitations on the Costa Brava because this is not what we thought we had ordered, but we enjoyed the nice meal and the waiter appreciated our company, since we were his only patrons (the advantage to traveling low season).

Picasso

Another beautiful day in Barcelona, despite the sleep problems we’ve been experiencing, we are mostly well and having fun. Sharon still has a terrible cough, though thankfully, right now she is sleeping like a baby and coughing less than usual. I know she hasn’t been feeling completely well…she told me to write: tell them, I’ve been feeling so achy and sick in the mornings I’ve been taking a shower every morning. I can attest to the fact…Sharon has been a very clean human on this trip.

Sleep still eludes me at night. This blog entry is taking place around 2 AM Barcelona time. Of course, jet lag has its advantages…my internet connection is fast this time of night.

So here’s the run down. Today (actually yesterday), we had the weirdest, groggy morning. I was up early, showered and ate breakfast, after about 3 hours of fitful sleep all night. Sharon slept in. I went back to sleep for about an hour after breakfast. Meanwhile, Sharon took her shower and ate, we gulped a lot of café con leche and rode the metro to the Picasso museum. The part of town that houses the museum is ancient and gorgeous, with narrow cobblestone streets, flower planters in windows, beautiful facades on the buildings that tower around you and plenty of stylish Catalonians walking on their way to work…wait, maybe they were on their way to lunch. It was after noon.

The Picasso museum was wonderful and we spent all afternoon within its old stone walls. We were pleasantly surprised by the special room dedicated to Picasso’s re-envisioning of Las Meninas…a famous Velasquez painting in the Prado (which we’ll be seeing in about a week). About 50 large and small canvases filled the space. It was like getting inside Picasso’s brain and beginning to understand his sense of reality. Sharon loved this.

We ambled through the old part of town after our museum adventure. Lanterns lit the cobblestones and though a bit early for cena, we pined for tapas. We found a smoke-filled tavern on a street called Born and sat ourselves down to eat. After the nutrition, we had energy to roam around some more, visited the Cathedral. (Not the Gaudí. That was closed.) Once again, many people were out in this part of town. The weather was cooler than the night before, but that didn’t stop the Catalonians from strolling along their lovely streets.

Our final find of the day was an open market…lively and well-lit at 8 PM. Sharon poses here by a candy vendor’s jewels…all jelly candies of different shapes and sizes. I am posing at the butcher’s stall. Tomorrow we rent a car and head up the coast to see Dali’s theater and museum in Las Figueres.

PS...Sorry for the weird formatting of the text...we have limited time, are paying a premium for our internet access, therefore, I'm leaving the oddities, though due to compulsions, might fix them later.

Barcelona

The blog continues, and yes, I’m writing from Spain…How my current trip to Spain came about is a long story, but to make it short…it’s a 40th birthday gift from many friends and family. I’m on this amazing journey with my friend Sharon Henthorn-Iwane. We’re in Barcelona for 5 nights, Ávila for a two night prayer retreat and 5 nights in Madrid.

The timing of this probably seems crazy to many of you and it certainly does to me as well. Jason is at home, moving our family back into the house, but he wanted me to take the trip while he was still on sabbatical. He returns to work in mid February, so this was my chance.

Sharon and I arrived Tuesday afternoon, the 22nd. We were jet lagged and sore from squeezing our bodies in economy seats for 12 hours, but enjoyed a full moon over the city as we took public transportation from the airport to our hotel. We slept until 8:30, after being up for ½ the night, of course.

Montjuϊc

Following breakfast, we put on our running shoes and set out. We took the metro (similar to BART) toward the Espanya Fountain…(Espanya…I think is how you spell Spain in Catalán, the language of Catalonians, still spoken fiercely by the locals). From there, we walked all over Montjuϊc…a hill-like golden gate park area…lots of museums, gardens, fountains and scenic views. We were soaking it in and thankful for the beautiful weather.

One of the highlights of our day was visiting the museum of Joan Miró, a 20th century Catalonian artist. Sharon who is an artist/painter said it was one of the most inspiring art museums she has been in. It contains most of Miró’s work, so you can really track how he developed over time. We also stumbled upon a fantastic Italian restaurant. Initially, we thought the food might be local, but we were wrong, and happily so. We shared a fresh mozzarella salad, with a tomato on it…the best heirloom tomato I’ve eaten since summer, and also shared Osso Bucco in rustic peppery gravy, a huge hunk of meat with potatoes. The food was really incredible and the cappuccino afterward, in true Italian style, the best I’ve tasted in months. See photo of me smiling and with my Illy cup. A great day.

We walked home. Lots of people were out though it was dark. The people remind me of the Oaxacans in their easy demeanor and relational/communal lifestyles, but the city is very European. Tomorrow, it’s the Picasso museum.

Saying Good-bye

I think this will be my final Oaxaca posting. We return our modem to Cablemas, which Jason has nicknamed Calemenos...and won't have an easy internet connection for our final two days.

Among other "lasts" that we're experiencing...I played for the last time with our church band yesterday. Not pictured...the keyboard player, the bass guitarist and the drummer. In a few days when we're in Denver...I'll post another email that contains more reflection.

Ringing in the New Year

We were wiped out after waking up at 4:30 AM yesterday morning to send off our cousins and Jason's sister and husband. No one in our family was going to stay awake until midnight (despite the constant bombs and fire-crackers going off all over town). The kids went to sleep at 7:30 PM, adults at 9:30 PM. We set our alarm for 11:30 PM.

So, after dragging the kids from bed and heading to the street, we found pretty much all our neighbors out of their houses. The wood-fire blaze was already burning on the street and a young boy was throwing fire-crackers in the heat. Most of the adults were happy and drinking mescal (Oaxacan spirits, made from a local succulant), though not drunk.

As soon as the woman across the way spotted us, she warmly invited us to join her party. She insisted that we sit down and gave us bbqued meat, noodles, radishes, salsa and bean-covered tortillas, toasted on the fire. We were handed a special holiday drink made from fruit and sugar cane...you suck the sugar out of the cane after you drink the juice. She offered a variety of spirits.

The kids hiked up to our roof, to better see the action and avoid the constant invitations to eat and drink. They're pictured above.

At the stroke of midnight, fireworks erupted all over town. The old fella, the year 2007 was thrown into the fire and burned to a crisp, but the strangest tradition and most insane, was the toro loco. This bad boy is pictured above, looks a bit like a bull, made of sticks and bamboo, he sports these wheels on the side that are loaded with bottle rockets and other flaming fireworks. Then, the fire-crackers are lit, this lucky guy puts the thing on his head, and he runs around the street to the delight of all the bystanders. Notice the safety features on the guy and the bull. The guy has pulled his jeans jacket over his head, so his hair doesn't catch fire and the bull has long pieces of cardboard on each side so that the sparks zing down diagonally to the ground instead of landing on his host's head. I wonder how you get picked for this assignment. Perhaps he didn't send out his Christmas cards on time this year.

So, we woke up, ate, rang in 2008, watched the toro loco and said good night to our neighbors. The wildness continued until about 5:30 AM this morning and then all was quiet. It's a New Year's party we'll never forget.

Good Bye 2007

The Oaxacans know how to say good bye. In all things celebratory, they outstrip Americans by about 10 to 1...if you can measure such a thing as the spirit of celebration.

Here, you see an old stuffed man. He currently resides on our neighbor’s roof. This character symbolizes 2007 and tomorrow night he will be set aflame and destroyed…and if we know anything about Oaxacans, it’s that they love shooting off fireworks, so most likely a few firecrackers will be put in his beard…and a bottle rocket or two stuck in his pant legs.

Hello 2008 and a Prospero Año Nuevo to you all.

Warm Days and Lots of Play

Abraham's new chess set from Mitla artisan's market. Abby and Shaina getting some morning cuddle time and Joey exhausted after trying to keep up all day with the cousins. He fell asleep tonight on two beanbags.

The Christmas Parade

Roxy's birthday dinner and the Christmas parade we stumbled upon. Kids dressed up as the holy family and angels and shepherds, puppets twirling and countless Oaxacans celebrating on the square. Christmas is a wild affair in the centro. No snow, but plenty of joy.

Cousins Visit

Neuwirth cousins visit from Denver. First photo...kids are catching grasshoppers at Monte Alban...the beautiful Zapotec ruins above town. There is not limit to the kids' creativity and energy. They love being together, can you tell? Here they are on a bus to the centro. Nothing so exciting as a bus ride together. After the tour of the main plaza in town, we enjoyed an art class with Abby's art instructor. We've also been visiting Tulle, the village that brags the largest and oldest tree in the world, played soccer, baseball, gone to an art auction (bought nothing this time) and eaten some delicious Oaxacan food together. We miss you, Grandma and Grandpa, but we're having a lot of fun!

Folk Remedies and Advice From a Pilates Instructor

If you've spent time among the locals in Mexico and especially if you've become ill while here, you know how various folk remedies flow from a Mexican's lips in an attempt to help or cure you.


Recently, our good friend, Daniel told us the key to staying healthy in Oaxaca. It involves imbibing a blended drink of red onion, lemon and honey. Daniel's wife, Marisol is the one who had a baby in October (their 3rd). For the health of the baby and mother, she was to stay home for 40 days following the birth. Her mother came to assist her during that time and though she is a modern working woman, and had grown incredibly bored by 20th day or so, she stayed home all 40 days.

However, Jason and I were taken aback when our pilates instructor (by the way, we love our pilates class and our instructor, Judy--pronounced WHOODEE) lectured us on the dangers of bathing in hot water (warm water is acceptable, but not hot). Apparently, from what she told us, hot water turns your skin and muscles prematurely flabby. She went on for a while, even giving us the example that she had seen 18-year-olds with flabby legs and rear ends.

On each occasion, she had asked the young woman. “Do you bathe in extra hot water?” and each time, the woman had said, “Yes…I do."


What a relief. Flabbiness has nothing to do with aging, eating too much or living a sedentary life…but watch out for hot water! We thought you should be warned.


Photo: The kids had the day off school, so we did our own pilates class on the roof of our house. This was a couple of weeks ago...winter in Oaxaca.

Thursday Market

One of the fantastic pleasures of living in Oaxaca is descending on the markets that are held daily throughout the city and in the surrounding pueblos. While Bruce was visiting we went to the “famous” (because it will often be featured in travel books) Zaachila Thursday market. We rented a car, drove across town and down a winding road in a low-lying farm area. We emerged in Zaachila. At first, the town appeared empty, but we followed the red and white motorcycle taxis and found life in the centro. In front of the 300-year-old Catholic Cathedral, awnings and tables and blankets and booths spread out as far as the eye could see and everyone in town, it seems, was at the market. The market in Zaachila ought to be filmed…its colors strike you immediately as well as the smells. Meats, poultry, fruits, vegetables, grains, beans (including raw cacao…pictured here…mole paste is in the background in the stainless steal bowl, bought by the kilo, you add chicken broth and…Voila!..instant gourmet mole!) breads, flowers, cloth, wares of all types are sold at a price that would be hard for Super Walmart to beat. We bought 2 kilos of fresh strawberries (a luxury item for us) at 20 pesos (about 2 dollars) and five delicious avocados among a few other necessary items.

The most unexpected sight for me, was the presence of numerous elderly Zapotec ladies holding their live, fattened turkeys at key intersections within the market. The women had tied their birds' feet and were holding them upside-down. The turkeys stayed remarkably calm despite the crowds and looked around their surroundings with seeming disinterest. A friend said that roasted turkey is a common holiday meat. No frozen turkey here, just the one that you buy at market, keep in your yard until the morning of the big feast and then…well, the meat is fresh and you didn’t have to waste any freezer of refrigerator space.

Steroids and Baseball…

By the posting of this entry, even those of you who are not baseball fans have heard about or read something of George Mitchell’s report on steroid use in baseball. For me, the most startling find had to do with performance enhancing drug use among youth.

In the report, Mitchell cites surveys that show 3 to 6 percent of adolescents have used performance-enhancing drugs, which translates into hundreds of thousands of children.

"Every American, not just baseball fans, ought to be shocked into action by that disturbing truth," he said.

I would hope so!

And it’s not just a male issue. Recently Marion Jones’—also tied in with BALCO, Barry Bonds’ notorious supplier—pleaded guilty to lying to the feds, when she denied using performance-enhancing drugs. She made an apology outside the U.S. District Court.

“It’s with a great amount of shame that I stand before you and tell you that I have betrayed your trust. I have been dishonest and you have the right to be angry with me. I have let my family down. I have let my country down, and I have let myself down. I recognize that by saying I’m deeply sorry, it might not be enough and sufficient to address the pain and hurt that I’ve caused you.

Therefore, I want to ask for your forgiveness for my actions, and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

Throughout her comments, Marion was clearly emotional. Her mother stood behind her the entire time, a supportive hand on her shoulder. Marion Jones also returned her Olympic medals. Though lying to the feds might land her in jail, I appreciate her public comments. It took a lot of courage to say those words.

So now I try to imagine Bonds or Clemens making a Marion Jones style apology, their families gently urging them on in the truth-telling and then the topper...the giving up of their awards and lauds. For this fiction writer, that’s a scene I cannot imagine.