Morning at the River

We walked down to the river in the morning.  Our town is at the very top with two steep valleys on each side.  One side has a large, wide (but not so clean) river and the other side has a much smaller and cleaner "river", Rio Pisagua.  At the edges you can find lots of natural springs and there is a thick shade of trees above.

 

 

In the picture below Papi and Sofi are walking along the terraced edge where the ladies used to line up and wash their clothes before there was water up to the town (about 10 years ago).

 

 

I can't wait to go exploring more places like this.  I am from the Blue Ridge Mountains, the home of beautiful hikes.  Sometimes I just catch myself staring in awe at the beauty of God's creations!

 

 

Laundry Day!

We all knew the day was coming... the day I would have to eventually wash all of our dirty clothes.  Again, more muscles in places I never knew could have muscles.

 

Washing here is almost always done by hand.  The few 'washers' I have seen are more like agitators. They don't drain/rinse/spin.  You just fill them up with a hose and then they swish back and forth until the timer stops.

 

Every house has one of these cement sink type things outside.  It's a pretty neat idea when you consider how it needs to be all-purpose.  The bottom is ridged like a washboard and the edge has a drain hole.  Whether it's dishes or clothes... this is your washer!

 

Papi's Mom was nice enough to show me each step and not laugh too much (she has now realized that she pretty much has to show me everything... the first time, at least... because nothing resembles the U.S.).  In addition to washing with powdered soap in the water, each piece is taken out and examined for any remaining stains, which are treated and scrubbed with a big bar of laundry soap.  After it comes out, the little bucket is used to dip water out of the drum and rinse it as it run against the washboard again until the water comes clear.

 

 

If it is white, it goes into another bucket with bleach water.  If it is colored, it goes into a bucket with water and a little fabric softener.  Then, my least favorite part, wringing it out.  I'm really, really, bad at this part.  I pretty much gave up and started letting them sit in a plastic crate with holes to let the water drip a while before even trying to hang them up.

 

Finally, they are hung up to dry.  All the houses have their clotheslines out and most days they have clothes on them.  I have seen everything from old phone cords, to fences, to barbed wire fencing used as clotheslines.  I did ask if I am supposed to hang my underwear and bras, too, or would that not be kosher.  Her response was, "they have to dry, too."  Good thing is, everything dries very fast here (except when it is raining).

 

The only American that most people here know personally (unless they have been to the U.S. themselves) is one that came a few years ago and didn't stay long.  What people remember about her is that she didn't talk to anyone, took her laundry to the city to have it washed, and ate out instead of cooking.  Maybe she wasn't Southern.  I wave and talk to everyone, even if I have to ask later who in the world it was.  I love to cook, even if sometimes it doesn't come out right.  And when it comes out right, I have to share and say "try this!"  And I do my own laundry, not only because I can't afford to pay someone right now for that, but I don't want someone else washing my undies, you know?  Word spread quick, and some people came to peek just to see if it was true.

 

It is definitely work, but obviously not impossible.  We now have clean undies.  And, I earned my street cred.

Don't touch!

By now, everybody knows that when there is anything new (to me) or even remotely interesting, to yell "Daniela, come, and bring your camera!"  Sometimes I just come across pretty things.  The good thing about being in our little town is I can grab my camera whenever I want (something I can't do in the city).

 

One day I found a strange, huge, hairy caterpillar-looking thing.  From her house, Papi's Mom said it looked like I was taking a picture of the papaya leaf, which she found strange since the plant didn't even have any mature papayas on it.  She yelled out her door, "Daniela, what are you taking a picture of?"  Thinking that she would find it strange that I was always taking pictures of what they find silly because it is 'normal' to them, I said "oh, just a worm or something."  She asked, "what kind of worm?" and started walking towards me.  I said "Don't worry, I'm smart, I'm holding it by its hairs so that it can't bite, if it is the kind that bites."  About halfway to my house she started yelling "put it down! Daniela! Put it down NOW!" 



 

 

After being relieved that I did listen, and that I was still alive, she informed me that just touching the hairs can make you very sick.  I had never heard of such things, and she kind of knew that I didn't believe her.  So, knowing that I was going to get a picture, she put it on the end of the stick and tried to set it on the papaya leaf for me.   I got a great picture, if I say so myself. 

 

And then, I went to my friend Google to prove that that was nonsense about scary caterpillars.  Ooops. What she warned of was right there on the list of symptoms of contact... bad headaches, nausea, rapid heart rate, strong body pains.. and redness, swelling, and bleeding where it touched you.  Great, even the pretty caterpillars are out to get me!  From now on, poke or pick up everything with a long stick. Got it.

 

 

Brooms!

The first day that I arrived at my house, Papi's Mom gave me a new broom and some sort of rag thing that looked more like a blanket.

First thought: Why would a broom be so important? I probably used my broom in the U.S. about once a week, to be honest.

Second thought: What is this blanket-looking rag for?

 

I soon found my answer to both questions!  With no carpets, and lots of dirt outside, and being in and out so much, I've never swept so much in my life. I have muscles in places I didn't know you could get muscles on accident.  And that blanket-looking rag is called a 'Jerga' and you wet it and lay it over your broom to "mop."  It's a great idea, because a sponge mop would be worn to pieces in two days on these floors.

 

This is Papi's Mom's "outside broom."  (Next time I dress up for Halloween, I am going to be a witch and this is going to be my broom!) Just as most housewives, she sweeps her outside patio every day.  If inside is hard on a broom, the outside is even harder.  She saves the stick and ties on a new handful of dried brush when the old one wears down.  She didn't even have to explain.... my Mom has an 'outside' broom as well. Although, it is not made of brush, but instead just a demoted old inside broom. 

 

 

Even Sofi likes to get in on all the sweeping. 

 

Seasons

In S.C. your main seasons are "hot as heck with a nice afternoon shower" and "oh crap, not ice again, we don't have salt trucks, plows, or snow tires/chains I have leave work at 2:00am in my little Kia and I bet you we won't have power in the morning."  And then the other two seasons are just transitions.

 

In Veracruz, your seasons are:

Winter: Hot as heck + dust

Spring: Get me a bucket to wring out the sweat from my shirt + mud

Summer: Get me a bucket to wring out the sweat from my shirt + mud

Fall: Hot as heck + dust

 

We arrived on the tail end of what they call the rainy season, and I call "mud season."  Although the rain doesn't have a clock, and of course it has rained during the day, most of the time it is at night and every time I ask "Is this a hurricane?"  It comes fast and furious and I watch the palm tree swearing it is going to snap.  It comes in sideways so I only have to close the windows on one side of my house.

 

 

Then, just as quickly as it came, it disappears, the sun comes out, and we have fresh mud!  I also learned the hard way that it is nearly impossible to navigate dirt roads in mud season at night without a flash light.  Although, during the day Sofi seems to think it is pretty fun.

 

To break it down in numbers, the average temperature in July through September is 81 degrees F (low of 74, high of 88).  The average temperature in December through February is 72 degrees F (low of 63, high of 83).   As far as rain goes, in December through May the average rainfall is 1 inch per month.  While in June through September, it is 14-15 inches per month.

 

About two weeks ago it was cloudy with a breeze in the morning and got down to the low 70's.  The Mexicans had on sweaters! And no, I'm not exaggerating.... fleece blankets on babies, sweaters and jackets with hoods on kids.   They insisted I was "going to get sick from the cold" if I stayed in my tank top dress like I usually am.  I just laughed.... I wear my flip flops in the snow! 

Corn!

This is Chilindrina. She delivered corn to our house (with a little help from the human she owns).  I was told it was fresh, local corn. (As in, right here in town). 

 

 

I asked to go next time to see the cornfield.  We went the next day down a long dirt road that leads out from town.  It actually is in better conditions than most so we went in the truck.   Poor Chilindrina couldn't carry us all!

 

 

 

You might not be able to tell from the picture, but it was steep!



 

 

Papi's uncle, Tio Moro (In all these years I've never heard his "real" name), brought up bundles of stalks and all. The green left over will be for Chilindrina to eat back at her house.

 

 

I did not realize that there is only ear per stalk.  Farming is a lot of work!

 



Lemons?

My Dad used to make the BEST lemon meringue pie.  I wanted to make an attempt at his delicious dessert but I can't find any lemons!  In 'school' they teach you that lemon is "limon" in Spanish... wrong!  "Limon" is actually "lime" and I haven't seen the first lemon anywhere around here nor do most people that I have asked even know a name for it in Spanish.  

 

However, I do find myself in the lime growing capital of the region. If you don't see fields of sugar cane, then it's lime trees.  I also happen to have one three feet from my front door.

 



 

I also have a great helper for picking, even if she sometimes happens to pick off leaves and things from the wrong tree (this is the nanche tree, which gives fruit that looks like yellow cherries).

 

 

 

Cold water, fresh squeezed lime juice, and some sugar from the local factory that processes our town's sugar cane.  Now that will make me drink more water like I need to.

 

 

 

I never used many limes in the U.S. because you only got two or three for one dollar.  Here, the farmers are only able to sell a whole box to the packing companies for $20 pesos (about $1.70 USD today).  

The fact that there are plentiful limes is great as most Mexican food calls for lime juice/zest or slices of lime on the side.  However, I'm still in search of a few lemons, or maybe I will just invent some sort of lime meringue pie.

Bath Time

I have never taken so many baths in my life!  At first I wasn't sure if I should be offended or not when everyone kept telling me "take a bath!"  I had already "showered" early and was pretty sure I didn't stink, yet. 

 

Later, Papi's Mom pulled out a heavy plastic tub, and started filling it with water in our front yard.  She pointed and said "get in."  I looked around and figured I have never bathed with an audience of a dozen people before. Obviously she did not mean naked, so was I supposed to change into a swimsuit?  When she noticed my hesitation, she said "clothes on, just like that, get in."  I obeyed.  (She is not a woman I want to mess with.  She is sweet and generous, but she raised all boys, so I don't want to take my chances... haha.)

 

 

Here, most people do not have drains inside since their houses were made long before running water arrived, so (with a small bucket dipping into the large bucket... as you could have guessed from my last post) they bathe outside with clothes on, then go inside and change.  Or at night when it's dark since there are almost no outside lights.  Also, when coming home from work or doing work in the fields or anything dirty, or when it gets really hot.  This adds up to multiple times a day for me!  I thought for sure I would miss hot water by now, but I really don't.  It doesn't come out as 'cold' as it does in S.C. and the coolness actually feels refreshing.  But here, baths are not hot and bubbly. They are cool and quick (unless you take a dip in a tub for a while... then it's cool and long)!  However, I might change my mind in Winter.

 

Wow!  It felt wonderful!  Now I understand what they were trying to say.  It's not good to get hot and stay hot... it wears you down.  Take time to refresh yourself.  They know by now that I'm not a complainer. Thankfully, they look out for me anyways. 

 

Always Check Your Bucket....



Here, we use a lot of buckets.  Almost everybody has one tap (almost always outside) and the co-op pump from the natural spring near the river runs from about 10am until 6pm, so you have to get what you need during those hours.  We keep two large drums filled and covered to use for bathing/washing/etc.  I keep a separate small bucket in the kitchen of water to use for cooking that has a good lid.  Finally, we have the big 5 gallon bottles of drinking water.

 

Naturally, moving water from one place to another or washing things when there are not taps/sinks everywhere means lots of buckets.  Not only do you need a big drum of water for toilet-flushing water, but also a bucket to dip it out with.  Water for washing/mopping/etc. is moved in buckets.  Okay, you are convinced, lots of buckets.

 

We are working on different connections/setups to make things easier for us.  The interior tubes/drains have been in place since the floor was poured.  But right now, we are doing things the way everyone else does it around here.  But, one piece of advice, always check your bucket!  I heard a noise when I walked up and I was prepared for it to be my worst nightmare... "a legless lizard."  Thank goodness, it was just this little green guy.  Iguanas like to eat lots of things that I wouldn't mind disappearing, so I let him loose in my lime tree.



 

 

 

 

"The Drive" Part 2 of 2

The second half of the drive through Mexico, although a safe region, was difficult due to the dark of night and heavy rains.  What was supposed to take 14 hours took 25, and we only stopped briefly a few times to fill up on gas and use the bathroom.  Although stopping for the night was discussed for a moment, everyone agreed we wanted to get home.

Here are more pictures of mountains. Yes, there were lots and lots of them.

 

On Mexican roads there are not a million fast food restaurants like the U.S.  In fact, I don't remember seeing any chain restaurants at all.  Although, where cars are stopped there are lots of people with baskets of snacks, fruit, juices, chips, etc.  This is not limited to places where you stop and park, if there is a known bottleneck they will walk right through the cars in the road.  Here is a pair of trucks from one rest area.  I used to be nervous with so many people coming up to me to sell things, but now I don't mind at all.  It actually is quite convenient to have a drink and snack right at hand (at a very fair price) when it's hot and you are hungry.  If you don't happen to want or need any, a polite "No, Gracias" is fine.

Once we were in Veracruz, we hit a traffic jam. And in Mexico, everything is bigger... plants, cockroaches, sandwiches, and traffic jams.  The sugar cane farmers, in an effort to get attention from the government, were blocking off the interstate.  Since we had been driving for 20 hours at that point, we stopped, turned off the car, and took a nap for a few hours. (A little more on this in a future post.)

As the sun started coming up, we could see the top of the "Pico de Orizaba."  It is the top of the volcano, the highest altitude point in Mexico. It is also visible from our house.

The sun rising over the mountains:

 

Literally, in the clouds!

 

 

I'm sure that everybody stuck out there wanted to get home, but I think we were at the top of the list.  Papi and his Dad started walking through and getting cars to move up and back so we could weave through and get to an exit.   We took a long, scenic, bumpy "back route" to the house.   Finally, home sweet home. 

Birthday Girl

Today is my "Big Baby's" sixth birthday. The night before we left I made her a "Hello Kitty" cake so that we could share it with her. We got to talk to her on the phone today while she opened the presents we left for her. Only a few more months before I am able to go back and be with her while I work and then we can come back together. For now, she is loving going to school and being at her Grandma's farm. My hope is that she loves her home, grows, learns, and is happy, no matter which country she happens to be in at the time.

 

"The Drive" Part 1



Day 1: We drove from Greenville, SC to Slidell, LA.  Because it was Sunday, the traffic in Atlanta was almost non-existent.  We stopped frequently and enjoyed the drive. The only thing open around was McDonald's and Wendy's, which we had already had that day... and Waffle House. We didn't want to travel too far so we ended up eating at the worst Waffle House ever.  The Holiday Inn in Slidell was nice and we got a good night's rest.  It was probably good we stopped when we did, as I'm not sure my nerves could handle any more bridges with a loaded down truck pulling a trailer. And there were lots of bridges and it feels very different than when you are just in a car.

 

Day 2: We drove from Slidell, LA to San Antonio, TX. The traffic in Houston was terrible. Just as I thought we were out of it, we would hit another bad patch.  We had "Whataburger" for lunch. It was good, but The Clock we liked to go to in Lyman was just as good.  The only place close to the hotel to eat was a Jack In the Box with a fireplace. They must have made a mistake, there is no reason a place that hot needs a huge fireplace, even in 'winter.'

 

Day 3: We drove to the border.  The waiting at the bridge for the papers that we had no idea when they would arrive was annoying. After 5 hours or so, they came and we crossed.  The U.S. Customs Agent asked if we had guns or money over $10,000USD. Apparently, it doesn't matter if you answer 'no' because the dog searches you anyways.  At least it was quick.  Then, across the bridge, we had to unload every-single-item from the truck and trailer so they could go through them, either opening the tops or cutting out the sides of them.  They lady was disappointed she didn't find anything except what was on the list we already gave.  She said "all this stuff is used."  Umm... yes.  The worst part of the day was when they closed, and we still didn't have permission to move the truck.  The truck behind us also had the same problem and they were sent back to the U.S. side.  However, I would have had to go back without Papi since he can't go back and I wasn't going to have that since we had done everything we were supposed to. With enough yelling and showing my passport proving I could get a car permit if I wanted or needed to, we were able to go to a hotel in the border with strict orders to not leave the city. 

 

Days 4-6: We waited, and waited, and waited for our papers to come through for the truck. There were no answers as to what was taking so long.  Let's just say that it was not a town that I would ever voluntarily stay in.  We did have a hotel with gates and A/C, so we just hung out and prayed it would not be weeks like some people we had heard about.  Late on Day 6 we got our paperwork and a man took us around to get all the stamps/seals/etc we needed.  However, it was getting close to dark and even worse than waiting another night, would be driving in that area at night.

 

Day 7:  I'm not supposed to give details, but I will just say that to this point in my life, this was the scariest day of my life.  Despite our precautions to lay low and not mention when we were leaving, etc., the wrong people found out. We are all okay and I am so glad to be away from that place.  I am also so glad that Papi's dad and brothers were waiting for us there.  Their help and the security of three extra men were invaluable. 

 

(Since I did all the driving to the border, I wasn't able to take any pictures.  And the border was not somewhere safe to take out a camera, so I will just have to keep those memories in my head... or maybe forget them.)

 

The drive down through Mexico was beautiful!  The mountains were so different from one area to the next.  At some places they just shot up out of the ground like jagged points, in other areas there were rolling and covered in green with just a small path through the middle.  Here are some pictures I was able to get through the window of the car as we passed by.

 

My "Last Meal"

The night before we left South Carolina, Mom made us one of my favorite meals, bulgogi and egg rolls.  Doesn't sound like a typical Southern meal? It's not, because our family isn't necessarily "typical."  We have lived in different places, learned to like things there, and incorporated that into our family culture.  That is a skill that will be very useful to me, and that I hope to pass on to my girls, too.

 

Egg-rolling lessons: