The Pear-Shaped Pete

and continues . . .

so chema has yet to receive his luggage, or had not last night.  he's got wonderful stories of human rights violations by canada customs.  when he passes along the letters from the 15 or so people all involved i'll post them here.  he spent the day at the canadian embassy and the council for human rights in mexico relating their experiences with the customs officials here.

i plan to do the same with the appropriate authorities here, but also Amnesty International.  this whole mess is strange to me, not because i am surprised that the canadian officials could be capable of racism, brutality and abuse of power, but rather that they ought to be more careful given that amnesty is already watching them and the current cases of rights violations that are in the courts.  i'm not going to compare chema's experience with mahar arar's, however at some point these sorts of abuses must stop.

this really emphasizes for me how borders are nothing more than dehumanizing to everyone.

i'll post more in a couple of days.  we have been out here at my mother's place.  i'm doing my usual spring cleaning work in the nursery.  i realized today that i actually despise hosta, peony, and daylily cultivars.  i'm starting to have vivid fantasies of never doing this again.  but this week's work will
cover expenses for the month so i'm not going to complain.

continues . . .

we have learned that the canadian government has been turning back hundreds of mexicans daily at their port of entry.  for what reason i'm not sure, unless it has something to do with the terrible violence in mexico this year.

i do seem to remember fox and harper coming to some sort of amicable freedom-between-our-nations treaty recently.

oh well none of this matters.  chema is back in mexico.  he'll stay with maricarmen for a couple of days to get himself together.  apparently his baggage is here in ottawa but will be returned to chema tomorrow. 

where do we go from here??  i must go talk to someone.

migration complications

i'm not a fan of international borders by any means. 

it doesn't appeal to me that certain people can travel freely and others are harrassed, beaten, deported, denied, rejected . . . especially since only recently in the history of our world has this really become a concern.  not only does the idea of nation states, borders and citizenship lead to heartache and disapointment for some, but what of the history of the world??  isn't our current population and demographic internationally a reflection of border crossing  and human movement??

myself, in the past year i have remembered how tenuous and fragile a nationality can be, also how terrifying migration officials can be when one's home and security is at stake.  having lost proof of my canadian citizenship and gone through the process of needing to prove identity, residency, citizenship, family history, et cetera; never certain that i wasn't going to be investigated thouroughly at some point in the process.

and what does it ultimately mean??  when really all that la migra or aduana want to see is money.  for an FM3 or to visit canada they want to see money in the bank.

we as a family aren't very good at slotting ourselves into particular spaces and roles that are expected of us. nationality and identity aside what makes perfect sense to us as individuals often disagrees sharply with what those who have the power to make decisions think and do.

and so tonight.  waiting for la migra to call and tell us whether chema will be allowed into the country or if he will be sent back to mexico for failing to live up to some preconceived idea of how visitors to this country should be.  and i realize that the sorting happens the moment a ticket is purchased, a little flag goes up so that canada customs can gleefully wait at the border to pull aside anyone who isn't found on the list of accepted individuals.

and it's not like chema is anything other than a veintitanto, mexicano, soltero, punkero who works hard to help his mother and is trying to create something for himself to allow for some independence. 

so it's late and i've been drinking since the first encounter with canada customs, and i'm exhausted but worried, and remorseful.  nothing of this was mentioned when we did the research or spoke with the consul. 

this is his first experience of canada:  a detention centre in toronto, questioning by a customs officer, fright, confusion, insecurity.  will he be interested at all in staying here for his intended visit??  or to return to study??  or to return at all??  fond memories of pearson airport and language confusion will be what will stay with him longest. 

as much as i see the faults of this land, i would have rather his first experience was of biking along the ottawa river, or shopping in the byward market, or for that matter visiting lanark county.  it will take a great deal to lessen this experience in his mind.  if we get the chance at all.

tomo otra copa, vamos a ver si puedo dormir esta noche de pesadillas y monstros.

cuidate mi che'e, pensamos en ti.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

going back to canada wednesday.

why can't we ever be organized??

from serenity to complexity

LJT and i went with Chema up to Hierve el Agua today.  it is not as difficult a trip as i have been led to believe for the past four months or so.  ridiculous really that i hadn't made the trip before.  it was just the sort of sunday activity needed after some rough weeks.  for some strange reason it smelled like prince edward county, made me want to see sand dunes and a huge expanse of water.  ni modo.  fantastic.  and i went swimming which is always a good thing.

(for those who are interested:  there is a new road built up to hierve el agua.  take the carretera past tlacolula, past mitla to a town called xaaga.  from there go through town and there is a road that veers off to the left up into the mountains, you can see the zigzag road from the highway.  follow that right into the town of roadigo and there you will find the springs)

on the way out to san martin today i was struck by how complicated commerce is here. nearly every job i have been able to witness is so multifaceted that i don't see how anyone could define precisely what it is that they do for work.  bus driving, for example, is not mere running a bus around in circles.  the driver takes the fare from passengers (and provides change if needed!!). 

he calculates how best to go about running his route to make the most money possible, skips some stops if there are too many buses there, drives slowly along others so that he can pick up as many fares as possible.

he can employ 'callers' who lean out the door and in jumbled street accented spanish yell out what stops that particular bus will make (this all depends on time and particular route, some buses don't use the system at all and others nearly all the time - perhaps for company)  some callers double-duty with the drivers (these are usually the young guys) who will each drive a particular section of the route while the other does the yelling.

today i witnessed something new with buses, a taxi driver flashed a 50 peso note at the driver, who nodded, then he jumped aboard to get change for his bill.

some drivers let snack sellers on to sell to the travellers, others won't.  some routes need to report to something like a punch clock at a certain part of the route, although the punch clock is human, others don't.  some routes accept bus passes, others don't.   for some reason i think all of the buses running out to Tule are painted yellow and maroon.

LJT and i went to a fun little birthday party at Andres and Mari's house tonight.  it dissolved into confetti and streamer throwing, but it was all in good fun.  tres leches cake, gelatina, pollo adobe.  mari is a good cook.  we came home with balloons and crepe paper flowers.

migration

we have joined the many who migrate, granted our situation is one of priviledge.  as of wednesday we should have our resident document which allows us to live in mexico for up to a year and is renewable unlimitedly.

we went up monday intending to renew our tourist visa, however the costs involved with that made it easier to apply for a resident visa.  the migration office is up in colonia reforma on pensamientos, about three blocks north of the carretera istmo.  it really is amazing how nice everone is in that office (although i have heard otherwise, maybe my fluency in spanish helps), however Damien very patiently explained to us that we needed 50$ per person per day that we wish to extend the visa.  this would have amounted to almost 15 000$ for the three of us for another 90 days.

so we went home.  we did some research and it is easier to prove monthly income and residency that it would be to find the money to put in the bank. 

nonetheless the paperwork required for visa changes is amazing, multiplied by three i thought i would go crazy. 

eight photos of each of us (four profile, four front)
original FMT we got at the airport
passports
copies of every page of our passports
migration form filled out and copied (what we look like physically etc.)
application to change visa status form completed
letter of intent, why we want to stay and how we can afford it
a copy of the landlord's electoral identification
the original and a copy of our lease
bank statements from the last three months, translated and copied
bank receipts  in triplicate showing the fee had been paid, one copy kept by the bank, one copy photocopied twice, therefore three to migracion and one for our records

i think that's it.  but for each of us.  i was a little frazzled when i was in the office talking with Edna, who was a tremendous help. 

we had to run around, go to the office first thing to get the bank forms, go down to the scotiabank on the carretera, wait in line then go back to the office, submit everything.  unfortunately we realized that the bank statements didn't have our name on them, so we had to go home the application incomplete.

back the next day, except that i went in the afternoon.  Migracion closes at 1pm to the public.

back friday morning with the bank statements.  i was up in colonia reforma (which i detest) everyday last week.  and that was pretty much all i did last week. 

no that's not true.  wednesday night: Rocky Balboa.  it was hysterical, my first rocky movie lived up to my expectations. 

Taking the short bus over the sierra

After much deliberation about what to do during EB's holidays (should EB take spanish classes? should we go to a coffee farm to see the harvesting? or what??) we somehow settled on going to the beach.  I'm not entirely sure how this came about except that one day i was desperate to go swimming and as there aren't that many places around here i think i started pushing for the coast.

We were expecting EB to have more time of this year (as in past years) but he is getting so much work lately that he didn't really have a break like usual.  The offices closed in Canada but he still had two contracts to work on, and he wasn't sure what to expect for a workload when they did open.  So he was hesitent to commit to a series of classes, and didn't want to venture too far away from an internet connection so he could check if work came in.

We remembered my mother's friends in Puerto Escondido and thought that we could go down to see them, and at least know someone who could recomend a hotel, restaurant, activities et cetera.  Really then, against my better judgement we went.  (i momentarily forgot, in my haste to get swimming, that i don't like beach towns)

Not really knowing the best way to get to the coast, and also running out of time to properly investigate we went with the easiest option which was to cross the street and take one of the buses leaving from calle Armenta y Lopez.  These were 88 pesos, we didn't bother with a ticket for LJT.  However, early into the ride (that is around the airport) we realized that we were on an adventure.  I don't think the bus had any shocks left after 20 or 30 years of driving over the mountains.  Nonetheless, the tickets were cheap and there was some space for LJT to move around until he tired out and went to sleep.

It was slow going given the capabilites of the bus, and the fact that we passed through the Ocotlan market on the way south.  A number of people got on and off with various packages and sacks of tomatoes, flowers and whatever else.  The trip up the mountain was lovely, lots of gorgeous views down into valleys and the fresh air was lovely and cool; although once into the hills the crazy curves around the contours of the mountains were a little frightening.

We stopped once we reached the ridge for a break to buy fruit from the shop and stretch our legs. About 30 minutes later, hurtling along the road we all started feeling queasy, LJT and EB much more than i.  Once LJT emptied his stomach a few times and passed out he was fine, but EB spent a good two hours or so with his head between his knees.  Something about how fast we were plummeting down the mountain, combined with the curves and the bouncing up and down was not a good combination.

On this side of the sierra are all the coffee farms that grow excellent coffee.  We had thought about visiting Pluma Hidalgo to see the harvest, and on the bus we went right through it all (but at a speed to fast to see much).  There were lots of banana plants growing to shade the coffee, and plenty of bananas for sale everywhere.  i could see the little red berries on the coffee plants, they stood out against the dark shiny green leaves.

Anyway, we got into Pochutla around 7pm (two hours later than we expected to arrive in PUERTO), and once on la Carretera Costeña we all began to feel better.  The air was considerably warmer, the soil looked very sandy, and there were signs up everywhere for cold coconuts for sale.

We got into Puerto around 8pm, very tired and hungry from the busride.  We were offered a room at the hotel where my mother's friends stay every winter, which was very kind as it saved us a lot of hassle and we could be sure that it was a nice place. I recommend La Casa de Dan y Carmen for anyone staying for a couple weeks or more as the little apartments and cabañas are great with space to relax and one doesn't feel that one is living in a hotel.  There is plenty of english spoken as most guests are Canadian or American as is the owner. Plus the pool was fantastic as the heat of Puerto necessitates a lot of time spent in the water.  We were right on Playa Zicatela and so we were exposed to the surfers and the many many many Mexicans on vacation for the new year.

Puerto was a little of a shock after so much time in the valley of oaxaca.  Certainly, the heat and humidity was different, but as Puerto exists for tourists the informality (people going for dinner in bikinis) and constant partying was a little strange.  Our first night, while eating tacos (48$!!!) LJT was freaked out by a few canadian tourists who 1. spoke english 2. were a little drunk and 3. were obnoxious, and refused to answer their questions leaving them to think that we were european and didn't understand english.  ha!

Our first day we hiked over to Playa Marinero and set up under hot pink umbrellas.  The morning was wonderful, lots of swimming, drinking micheladas and fruit juices and coconut drinks in the sun.  We ate ceviche, fish filet, guacamole, totones and french fries all brought out to us on the beach by our waiter.  However, returning home we realized that despite the sunscreen and the supposed shade of the umbrellas that EB and I had both gotten sunburns (although LJT out digging in the sand for four hours straight was completely fine).

Ah, well that's what one does at the beach.  But we stayed out of the sun for the next few days, hung out by our pool and EB worked a lot.   Puerto was a lot more expensive than we had expected.  the prices weren't outrageous, but as we couldn't find comedores and had to eat out three meals per day the touristy restaurants were a lot more than we would have spent in oaxaca. 

There was some confusion about our room with Dan y Carmen, and so we had to move on after a few nights or go back home.  As EB was still working and didnt' want to waste a whole day travelling we opted for a room at Hotel Nayar which was full of Mexicans (mainly chilangos) and very nice.  We will go back if we return to Puerto.  Here we were closer to the swimming beaches Marinero and Principal and the pedestrian walk (Andoquin) which at night was full of street food vendors, families walking together, clowns, and more typically mexican retaurants. 

Coming home we chose to return by suburban, i thought that the newer vehicles might have better shocks and be a little quicker.  they leave from Hotel Luz de Angel in the actual town of Puerto (not the beach side of the carretera) about three blocks from the Andoquin.  A ticket cost 130$ (in retrospect i should have bought one for LJT as the bus was more than full), our ride was less bumpy (but no fewer curves) and we returned via Sola de Vega.  it took 6 hours exactly as opposed to the nearly 10 on the way down.  LJT and EB were no less nauseated, but the Dramamine knocked them out and so were able to sleep quite a bit.  I definately recommend taking the short bus over the sierra.

And now we are home, with a newly stocked fridge full of food, LJT is estatic to be back with Fernanda and in his own space, I am glad for the fresh air and our own space, and EB has no work as of yet, so maybe we can see some more sights before he  gets really busy again.

Benito Juarez

LJT's new shoes became an unforeseen obstacle to our planned visit to Benito Juarez, a small mountain town somewhat near Teotitlan. Eunice, our kindly neighbour, had offered to take us in her incredible beast of a land rover to see the remote town. LJT refused to put on his new shoes, saying they didn't fit his toes properly. The drama was intense but not without its moments of elegance. We left an hour late.

Eunice had brought her car down from Oregon (I think). Originally purchased to shuttle her family safely through mountains on ski excursions, the vehicle has found a second life with Eunice as a single woman in Mexico, her family now dispersed across several continents.

The quality of the road quickly declines once past Teotitlan. The guidebook said the road would improve once we passed the dam. The guidebook was wrong. The washed-out gravel road twists and turns up the side of the mountain. We had to go slowly, for at times it is hard to see oncoming traffic, or cattle. On one side is the rock face, and on the other is a rather sharp drop. It took us about 2 hours from Oaxaca to arrive in Benito Juarez.

Burros, horses, and skinny cattle roam free, particularly in the lowlands, where scrubby shrubs and cacti predominate. The flora changes as one ascends the mountain. There is an inverted tree line, above which the larger pine trees start. The smell of pine suddenly becomes dominant, and the air cools markedly. We passed a man hauling firewood on burros.

There was very little activity in the town, although we could hear loudspeakers in the distance. Houses are built into the hillside, and corn was being dried on many of the tin roofs. The poles that support the power lines are cast in concrete. After not being sure where we were going, we found the tourist information centre, which was closed. LJT posed on the wooden sculptures in front of the building.

A big old pick up truck then crashed into a much smaller pick up truck right in front of us. I'm not sure what was going on, as there was plenty of time to stop, and the negligent driver never bothered to get out of the truck.

After passing around a bottle of Rompope, HPJ, LTJ, and I tried to take a hiking trail up to a lookout, but we only managed to find the town's water catchment system. Eunice chose to poke around the town on her own. We soon met up with Eunice again and we decided to walk on a hiking trail that was to take us to a restaurant. It was all down hill, and we eventually gave up on the restaurant. I hiked back up and drove the land rover down to pick everyone up.

We had coffee and barbequed trout with blue tortillas for lunch at a comedor. The fish were stuffed with cheese and cilantro. Eunice showed me how to pull the bones from the flesh. We brought in the rompope to add to the coffee. We asked if there was some kind of fiesta going on, but they said no, people were just happy because it was near the end of the year.

We took an alternative route back that involved a paved road. Some people were harvesting maguey by the side of the road. We picked up a family who needed a ride, and they gave us some kind of crazy plant in thanks. It took just over an hour going back by Tlacolula and Diaz Ordaz.

LJT now likes his new shoes.

la aventura de las calabazas

last night i got a message from gerardo inviting us to a convite in lachigolo, which is about 20 minutes from here.  he said, meet me at the bus stop at ten and we will go.  so LJT and i headed off this morning, apprehensively due to LJT's lurking cold.  but i figured we would be home in plenty of time to relax and nap.  i should have known that with gerardo we never come home early.

gerardo and his family know the presidente of lachigolo, and had been invited to the festivities.  we got off the bus on the carretera about 1km to lachigolo down a dirt road.  we walked at LJT's pace stopping to watch construction, car repairs, turkeys, and children on bicycles.  when we got into the centre of town gerardo called the presidente and we waited by the huge ahuehuete tree for him to come.  We ate pistachios and talked about the cockfight that was scheduled for that day.  After about ten minutes the presidente pulled up in his SUV with his family.  He informed us that the fiesta began at four in the afternoon (we were wondering why everything was so quiet).  oh.  well.  i think gerardo was a little embarrassed, but i really didn't care it was nice to get out of town. 

anyway, el presidente offered to take us to a fabrica where they make ceramics.  We all piled into his car, there were seven of us fairly tightly packed.  the presidente's daughter was really curious/friendly/chatty and told me she wanted to learn english.  so we spent most of our time together translating various phrases and words.  the fabrica was full of gorgeously painted pottery, but i am wary of it breaking on board a plane.  gerardo was really interested probably due to his years working with clay (well that and i think gerardo is interested in pretty much everything).

After the fabrica the presidente asked if we wanted to see the new houses they are building in the community.  So off we went again up the side of one of the mountains.  At the house we looked around and peered in the windows, the kids threw stones and spoke two languages.  i mainly just looked at the 360 degree mountains that surrounded us.

At this point el presidente asked where we wanted to go and gerardo said to just drop us at the carretera.  When we got out of the car everything happened so quickly, there was a bus stopped and gerardo said, quick let's get on.  i asked him where we were going, i couldn't hear him for the traffic noise, and before i knew it he was climbing on.  So LJT and i scurried after him, once aboard i asked him where we were headed (at this point it was probably about one in the afternoon).  Gerardo said, we're going to the zoo.  what!?! i said, you're crazy, we aren't going to the zoo, LJT is sick, we are all tired, i'm hungry et cetera. 

Anyway, we got off at the zoo.  another kilometre in from the highway, luckily we got a ride on the back of a truck filled with squashes.  At the zoo we had a snack of three bags of chips, two bottles of water, one can of 7up, and one of apple juice.  Then LJT played at the playground for a while until we convinced him to walk around to see the animals.  We spent another hour or more looking at mostly foreign animals, giraffes, zebras, tigers, brown bears; but some indigenous ones too, jaguars, ocelots, parrots, snakes, monkeys, owls.

Then we trekked back out to the highway.  gerardo put LJT up on his shoulders, el nino was so tired that he was sleeping up there for the last half of the walk.  We waited near a herd of goats on the side of the road for a bus.  ended up sharing a taxi with four other people back into oaxaca.  we got dropped at the end of our street.

i've got a bizarre suntan from todays wanderings, sort of boat-neck shaped.  and quite dark.

LJT was lucky enough to have a nap this afternoon.  i finished decorating the gingerbread house i have been working on.  Then about seven o'clock we went out with our two american neighbours and sang xmas carols for the landlords and their family and friends.  we had made up some chocolate, joe bought some rompope and mixed it with vanilla ice cream so we could add a dollop on top.   we had the gingerbread, cookies and the drinks, we sang some carols and showed pictures of snowstorms and cold.  then we all sat around talking in the patio (maybe twenty of us).  after Tere and Eliseo showed us their wedding video, Hector and his father carried the television out to the patio and we all watched there.

We need to have a party where people dance with boxes on their heads and with turkeys in their arms.

Tlacolula

We took a bus this morning out to Tlacolula again, this time to wander through the market at a slower pace.  We stopped to have nieves again.  LJT and EB chose limon, and i chose leche quemada y tuna.  We bought a couple of groceries, a few xmas decorations and a present for the cleaning woman.

We also stopped in the church for a more relaxed look at the baroque architecture and decor.

Now I am listening to the live band next door.  I don't even know what we are celebrating anymore.  Check youtube for new videos.