I Miss Mexico

I recently discovered the fun of clicking backward on my friends' facebook photo tags, to see the original oldie-but-goodies. I found these of myself in Mexico, and they brought be back instantly. I do wish I had my own photos, but once upon a time I was anti-photography and the way it takes over a present moment. Yes, even while studying abroad. So here they are, all I have:

1. my short hair

2. the sun

tepotzlan:

3. a strange man asked us if we spoke spanish and if we wanted a photo with his daughter

4. walking to find the campground

5. setting up camp for my friends (I didn't stay. I had a weird feeling about the place and took a midnight bus home.)

6. setting up camp

7. dancing with chinelos

8. horchata in our school cafe

9. field trip

10. field trip

11. the walk from school to the bus stop

12. a view of Cuernavaca, where we stayed and studied

13. a chapel we visited in D.F.

PS: Thank you friends for your facebook photos.


Now, the trouble with falling in love with one country is that it prevents you from seeing other places. I was in Mexico twice in 2009 and I missed it a lot these past two years. Jake and I are saving for another trip elsewhere but it's taking some self control to not redirect our travels south.

Feels like a re-post.
(I found this old, straggler post saved as a draft from more than a year ago!)
These are from my time studying for 3 months in Cuernavaca, Morelos, MX.



Un amate amarillo.
These trees are named for their yellow skin,
their roots adapted this way to reach the water
way down at the bottom of the ravines that
roll through central Mexico.


Xochicalco,
city of flowers.
The first day of spring.
My host mama Esperanza told me to wear white.

Every time I'm in the library at school, I think of my great friend Kristy. Kristy, remember how often we saw each other there? You worked at the library and I loved to visit you.

Remember the first time I saw you when I came back from Mexico and we whispered for a half hour about traveling? You had recently been in London and Prague. Now you're gone again.

You're in Paris, just being and writing as wonderfully as ever. I wish I could leave a comment for you, but since I cannot, you get an entire post. (Others: do yourself a favor and spend some time reading that tumblr.)

Kristy, as happy as I am for you (and for Paris who has you), I am jealous and selfish and I want you home! It's time to make dill hummus with the windows open and have picnics and peel huge pieces of wax candle off your table in our long skirts.

I was reading in the library this week and each creak of the floor had my eyes jotting up, looking for you. Remember how I used to scare you between the aisles?

Some places will indefinitely be host to the trail of memories we leave behind.

-In other news, 24 hours of prayer for this city begin at 2 today. Together, professional artists and art students will keep vigil, Jake and I will be spending the night on site. I'm really hoping to find some revelation in regards to that post below.

Something like home

We're back, home safe.

But we were at home in Iowa, too. Isn't it lovely to realize that somewhere I hardly thought of two years ago can now feel so homey? It probably has a lot to do with the people there, those wonderful people. And the full pantry, too. And plenty of time to bake and breathe. The photo above is my signature/Jake's favorite bread cake, banana applesauce bread. I pulled it out of the oven and just knew it belonged out near the rustic family backyard.

I was raised in California,
salty ocean air and mountains embrace me.
Then we moved to Michigan
where I grew into the woman I am.
I definitely felt at home in Cuernavaca, Mexico,
my bones are Latin.
And I'm approaching my fourth anniversary
in this city where we land.

So I have plenty of homes. It is
wonderful and tiresome. I am
comfortable in many places. But
where should our feet plant next?
Olivia and I have a
three-years-to-Montana plan,
but more time away from family
sounds painful right now. Ask me
in a few days, I suppose. Because
the thing is, with so many homes,
we're bound to be away from one
or most of them at all times.

A parable

[somewhere between Mexico and Chicago.]

Nervously you approach the mirror,

because even though you know you

want change, you're afraid of what

that means and what it will look like.

You look closely at yourself. You've

got a few strands of hope, and you've

got plans, a method... you put your

faith in these.

Like anything else new in life, it's

a little scary. And you push onward,

enchanted by the thought of what's

to come. You find the balance

between the heat of potential and

scorching... the tell-tale sign of a

lesson, lived and learned.

You furrow your brow and analyze
each new encounter, twisting and
turning the situations, working with
what you've got and imagining what
it could all culminate to be.

Once it's all done, you nervously step

back to see what's happened. You

realize it wasn't as amazing as you had

hoped, but there's always another day.

You've learned a little something, yet.

You can only continue to grow from here!

A parable of life...

and re-learning

how to curl your

hair at the age of 21.

Day 4-Last day... last pictures of my white scarf in Mexico

This was New Year's Eve! All of the other gringos (white folk) came out of hiding on Day 4. The streets were buzzing, tents were going up, and we did little but walk around for 10 hours.

Actually, before getting to el centro we made a quick visit to the college where some of our friends studied abroad. (Holler to Dave and Erin!)

Then of course, another church. These aged churches are so fascinating... all of the art and those annexed chapels! This sign says:

"This is a place of prayer, God listens to you, you should listen to Him, too."

This is truly my favorite kind of prayer. The kind where I don't say a thing.

(Side note: I really wonder how these old churches put electricity in their walls!)

The photos above and below are so "Mexico" to me. The banners, the bug and the church.

Our participation in the "Where is Vincent" photo project. St. Vincent DePaul, the namesake for Jake's school and work, was all about social justice and so we thought this was the perfect place to take Vince's portrait.

We stumbled upon a cafe named Toulouse Lautrec. Named after the same artist as Jake's band! Obviously we had to buy something and support the cause.

And we're back to where I started us, the night service for New Year's Eve at church. It was mythical, so many people and so many candles!

Thanks for following the recap of our honeymoon journey. I write this as much for myself as for you. I hope to share some of the magic with you. I want to remember vividly for myself the heat, the light, the colors, the stimulation to my ears and fingertips.

I do believe that too many pictures are a crutch to the memory.

May the words here help to root what we experienced deep into our beings and spur potent memories when they are read again in a few years.

"What we have once enjoyed we can never lose. All that we love becomes a part of us." - Helen Keller -

Day 3

A rather relaxed day.

Photos above are in front of the temple and ex convent of St. Augustine. We are early risers and we got to el centro (downtown) before much was open. We wandered to yet another old church and returned here to see the art museum.

No wonder foreigners think our country is ugly. Seriously, these old streets and buildings and their color enchant me! I don't think anything in Chicago is even half as old as most of these buildings. Okay, maybe this one church I found in the far South Loop... but still.

Above three photos are inside St. Augustine's ex convent. Brothers would walk in those halls and circle the perimeter while praying for hours. How meditative it must have been!

Mexico is full of ex convents that look just like this, they were all built at the time of the conquest and therefor reflect European architecture.

Unfortunately, I'm told most of the convents were built unwillingly by native Mexicans. I'm so glad this ex convent was turned into an art museum to treasure Mexican pieces.

These arches are actually ancient aqueducts... another jewel in Querétaro that we only discovered upon arrival. (Have you seen enough of my favorite white scarf, yet?)

And then we spent the evening at two different restaurants! Food is cheap in Mexico. After dinner at La Querida, we came to this place, Tulip. We had a piece of tres leches cake (Sarai, I actually think ours was better!) and a rompope cappuccino. Please click on the picture to see our delicious desserts in fine detail.

Day 2-Motion-sickness paid off

When Jake and I first arrived in Querétaro, the man who drove us from the airport to our hotel told us that the two most visited sites in the state are the towns Bernal and Tequisquiapan.

That was a great tip because we came with the hopes of discovering (and had such little time to plan anything beforehand.)

Knowing nothing about the towns and only a little about how to get there, Jake and I took a taxi to the bus station and miraculously arrived 4 minutes before the bus left for Bernal. Actually, without any doing on our part, we miraculously made it 5 minutes early to each bus station we needed for the rest of the day!

I get motion-sick. Thirty minutes standing on a hot bus as we traversed the central highlands... and I was starting to get a little queasy. So I squatted in the aisle and immediately a young man offered me his seat. Good thing, too, because we became fast friends and I didn't throw up.

After giving me his seat, Diego and his travel-mate Andrés, explored with Jake and I all day. We ate lunch together as soon as we got off the bus, we climbed La Peña in Bernal and somehow found our way through the rural country to Tequisquiapan.

(Pictured above are the aforementioned sunglasses. I really love this picture, I really love my Jake.)

Here is where I found my favorite Mexican candy! Dried mangoes with chili powder... mmmm.

The kind of place where the sky opens up and you can see how truly round the world is! It is absolutely dumbfounding to think that we can know the God who made the planets. That is a huge inspiration for my new year goal to know God more.

Oh, and I climbed this monolith in my favorite flats. I felt a little bad about the shoe abuse but they were so comfortable, save for a little slippery.

Diego just so happened to have a pair of climbing shoes that I changed into once we were at our peak. (We didn't go all the way for a lack of climbing ropes.) They were awesome and I wore them the rest of the day!

The shoes made a big difference and I wanted to make my sister Morgan proud so I took this picture for her:

The following photos are in Tequisquiapan, aka the belly-button of Mexico.

It was a great town!

Very antiquated and a little artsy, I would have loved to see it in the daylight.

The first thing the four of us happened upon was the town cemetery. It was fascinating to walk around, Mexicans are so spiritual about their dead. Then Andrés pointed out that you never see graves more than 100 years old--where do the old graves go?

One grave, more like a mausoleum, had stained glass windows. The glass made a picture of a painter's pallet and some writing below said "My brushes cry for me."

We found an art gallery and the woman who owned it served us coffee while she painted and talked about moving there from Mexico City.

Our second day in Mexico fulfilled all of my wanderlust and dreams to travel, see new things, meet new people and bring myself close to the earth.