Amsterdam and Cologne with Granddaughter Alli

Alli loves Amsterdam! At Rijksmuseum and the Van Gogh; around the Dam, the town center; walking the neighborhoods; having pancakes and great food, with Andy and with Kaaren, Jeff and Parks, our fabulous hosts, having the time of our lives. 

What a special trip this was!  Alli's first trip to Europe, beginning in the beautiful cities of Amsterdam and Cologne.  A college graduation gift, to open her eyes to the world. And she was ready. "The advance team for your next trip, and many trips thereafter," I said to her as she jumped with joy in front of the Rijksmuseum. "I'm ready to go back, Nana!" she exclaimed, after a few days in Amsterdam and a train trip to Cologne. She was already thinking about an itinerary.

The Concertgebouw, the famous concert hall, near the Rijksmuseum and the Van Gogh.

Our base was the modern urban home of my niece Kaaren and Jeff, creative geniuses both of them, and their precious son Parks, right on Saphatipark. Up several flights of stairs, way up, like almost all Amsterdam houses, unless you live on a houseboat on a canal. It's a lovely part of town.

From there we walked or took a tram wherever we wanted to go, seeing the sites and the highlights, experiencing the spirit of the Netherlands, absorbing the culture, avoiding determined bikers, the major mode of transportation in this bustling city. I love the canals, the Museumplein area, and the Dam, the center of town where the Royal Palace and the Nieuwe Kerk dominate. I went to a wonderful exhibit at the church, "We Have a Dream," featuring the lives and messages of Mahatma Ghandi, Nelson Mandela, and Martin Luther King, Jr., so needed once again in our times. The exhibit seemed to come alive in the spiritual glow of the church, with its vaulted gothic ceilings and stained glass windows.

We also took a train to Cologne to spend a few days in Germany, a small but tantalizing taste of this diverse country. Getting off at Central Station, after an interesting ride through German countryside and small towns, we were immediately greeted by the enormous, towering 13th-century gothic Cologne Cathedral with its intricately carved weathered facade and twin spires reaching to the heavens.  We went inside the next day to see its fabulous craftsmanship, art and architecture. It's the tallest Cathedral in Europe, and now a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It inspires awe and hope.

In Cologne, we stayed in a small but nice hotel, the Mauritius Komforthotel. From there we strolled to a nearby square in search of adventure and dinner. That's how we happened upon Heumarket Square and the historic Malzmuhle restaurant, famous for brewing the Cologne beer known as Kolsch since the 1800s.  We enjoyed an authentic German meal of wiener schnitzel and bratwurst, along with many glasses of Kolsch, of course.

We were happy campers by the time we left the Inn, conversing with a group of guys who were as jolly as we were! They were happy to meet Americans and joked about Trump. Actually, just about everyone we met joked about him. "How could this happen? What a buffoon! What an embarrassment!"  Yep, the USA is now the butt of lots of European jokes. But people to people? No problem at all. Wonderful as ever.

So we walked leisurely through Heumarketplein, relaxed at one of the many colorful and lively cafes around it, and people watched. The night sky was cloudy, but we were filled with wonder and joy.  Alli liked the German beer, and even my sister Andy and I, not usually beer drinkers, joined her to salute Cologne, the largest city on the Rhine river. The next day we took one of those City Bus Tours, getting off and on to explore the sights, including the Chocolate Museum where we had espresso and rich dark chocolate cake. Yum. We also took an enjoyable and relaxing boat tour on the Rhine, the river that starts in the Swiss Alps and ends in the North Sea in the Netherlands. It all seemed connected. I have lovely visions of strolling the promenade along the river.

Bikes and public art near Kaaren's neighborhood.

Full harvest moon over Amsterdam
October 5, 2017

Then it was back to Amsterdam to explore more of the Netherland's capital city. Alli spent more time with Kaaren and Jeff, taking long walks along the canals and enjoying the special places around the town that is now their home. Andy and I went at a more leisurely pace, stopping often to have a drink, sit at a corner cafe, enjoy good coffee and sisterly talks.

On our last day, Alli and I went to the large Amsterdam Market (one of the largest in Europe we were told) to browse and shop and enjoy. We walked between the rain drops and rejoiced when the sun broke through. We bought souvenirs, scarves, hats, tee shirts, whatever caught our fancy. Alli was practical and wise in choosing gifts, while I went for the magnets, shot glasses, and trinkets. I could see she was thoughtful and open to learning new things, to having new experiences. My lovely Millennial granddaughter, confident, tolerant, upbeat, a pragmatic idealist, optimistic about the future. Every once in a while she'd give me a big hug and a big smile. "I love it. So Awesome. I love it!"

It was thrilling to watch Alli on her first European tour, to see my granddaughter absorb the adventure of a lifetime, knowing in my heart that she will cherish the memory and that there will be many more travels to come.

Sister Andy, granddaughter Alli, and niece Kaaren

Egypt Unveiled: Form Cairo to Luxor- July 21, 2017

Egypt Unveiled: From Cairo to Luxor

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We were up at 6:00 am to catch the 8:00 am train from Cairo to Luxor. We chose a day train because we wanted to see the Egyptian countryside. We wanted to see Egypt unveiled. And we did.

The train station is behind a lot of rubble, I think because it's under construction. Lots of things are hidden from Western eyes, like the veiled women in burkas. We stood bewildered, bogged down by baggage and void of our morning coffee fix. Fortunately an elderly man offered to help carry our luggage and get us to the station. There was no path but the one he made. It was good enough. We tipped him 5 pounds and agreed that it was the most worthwhile tip we'd given so far. Sometimes Egypt provocative is just what we needed!

We met a lovely couple as we boarded the train, Leo, from Austria, and Lucia, from Melbourne, Australia. They were a 50ish couple who had known each other 25 years ago, met up again in Cairo, and are on their way to Ethiopia. How wonderful is that?! We chatted off and on during the train ride. I hope I hear from them again. We also met some friendly English-speaking travelers who were curious and helpful. One woman asked where we were going and when we said Luxor she told us how beautiful it is. "You should go to Aswan, too," she said. "We're thinking of a day-trip," Jud said. "You should make it a 2-day trip!" Ah boy, we don't have enough time to do all we'd like to do.

The train was clean and comfortable; a waiter or steward came through our first class car from time to time offering tea and coffee and biscuits. The whistle, however, never stopped blowing, so if sleep came it was interrupted by the constant announcement of the train going through one Nile river town after another. I caught a name every once in a while, first in Arabic, which is such a beautiful script, and then in English. A darkening sky and gray haze followed us for several hours from a small town called Matti to another larger city called Assuit. And then the heavens opened up and the rain fell.

People on donkeys, which are still the predominant beasts of burden and main source of transport in rural Egypt it seems, rushed hither and thither. A man stood with his hands outstretched, as if welcoming the rain. At one point it hailed, large stones almost the size of golf balls, falling hard on the dry ground. How odd to see hail, or rain for that matter, in the desert! At one point it rained so hard water came pouring through my window and I had to move.

We were rewarded with a beautiful rainbow in the Eastern sky as the rain subsided and the sun set. It seemed to start in Cairo and end in Luxor, the end of the rainbow! The eastern landscape glowed in stunning golden light. Oh how I tried to capture the magic, but rain-streaked windows on the moving train made it difficult!

From the windows of a train, the Cairo countryside along the river and canals looks very green and pretty, miles of fertile fields, of what I'm not sure. Fields of wild grasses, some corn, alfalfa, other vegetables, herbs maybe, some sugarcane. The means of farming looks pretty traditional, sythe and sickle, but the irrigation systems, canals and ditches carrying water from the river to fields seem to be effective. We learned only later that some of the canals are polluted and we were warned not to put even a finger in the water. Except for the donkeys and minarets, the Egyptian countryside looks a lot like Florida, with many varieties of palm trees.

After being in the bustling and chaotic city of Cairo, the rural scenes seem calm and serene. The palms compete with the minarets in reaching for the sky, lovely pastoral scenes in pastel.

Stacks of hay are bundled into humps with stalks reaching out from them, making them look like camels sitting in the desert.

And yet poverty is evident too. People live in stick huts, dank hovels and crumbling buildings along the canals and the railroad tracks. Donkeys, cows, goats, and chickens run around muddy yards. There's little to no protection against the elements, or the harsh sun. Nothing in the way of material possessions, which seems ridiculous even to note. Material possessions? For people living in huts, tents and stick structures with only a few palm fronds for a roof? It's survival.

Still, women did laundry and hung it out to dry on posts and falling fences. Boys kicked a soccer ball around a muddy field. Young children in ramshackle buildings next to the train tracks smiled broadly and waved as the train passed, so close to windows without glass that I could almost touch them.

Sometlmes Jud's side of the train had the prettier views, while mine filled with the gray-brown of poverty and slum dwellings. Sometimes I had brilliant green fields on my side, with swaying palms, while Jud had row upon row of brown brick dwellings surrounded by brown dirt paths and fields.

You have to look out of both sides of the train to get the whole picture, to process all the images, the conflicting views and visions, the beautiful and the ugly, the rich cultural overlays and the gray-brown underbelly.

On the train from Cairo to Luxor I could see both sides of Egypt.

The train was almost three hours late and we arrived in Luxor in the dark, the lights of the city shining brightly after the unusual rainstorm. We found that out later: how rare the rain and how welcome, no matter the damage it may have caused or the activities it slowed down. Rain in the desert is a gift, like the huge clear rainbow we saw over the landscape of Egypt, a sign of good luck I thought.

The train ride from Cairo to Luxor shows daily life over the patina of antiquity. It’s Egypt in the now, an unfolding panorama of rural and urban landscapes, grace and poverty, green and brown, palms and minarets reaching for the sky, people going about their business, farming, buying and selling, seeking tips and advantages wherever they can, heeding the Call to Prayer, heeding the call to survival and daily life. It's Egypt unveiled.

Last Days in San Miguel

JOSH'S SAN MIGUEL
Photos taken from his iphone: the Parroguia (top left) and other churches;  me at the Mercado; street scene; the inside of Teatre Peralta with SheepDog, the Beatles tribute band, on stage; and SMA at night.

January 1, 2013 Tuesday

“It’s our last day,” Josh said this morning. 

“Yep, and we have only 200 pesos left!”

“I think we managed our money pretty well.”

“I think so too.  We’re down to our last penny.  Well, our last 200 pesos!”

We walked and talked.  Took a route we hadn’t taken before. Went to town.  Had supper at a nice Italian restaurant, lots of food and a good pistachio gelato. 

“Should we take one last walk into town,” Josh asked.  “Sure!"  I was glad he suggested it.

I checked my email and Josh checked out some songs from an old video game that he kept remembering.  “You know how some songs from the past just come into your head, and won’t go away?”

“Yes, I do,” I replied.  “That happens to me a lot.  Like I’m singing Imagine with John Lennon.  In fact, I’d like that song played at my funeral.  That and Let it Be.  

                                                                                         

“NANA! How did you go there?” 

“Oh I don’t know. It happens, like a song popping up in your head.”

“Okay,” Josh says.  “Now I’m noticing the details of the architecture.  And that tin sculpture of Don Quijote.”   We were at the hotel across from the Parroquia.

“Right, I want to take a photo of you with Don Quijote, in his new year’s mask, and his partner Sancho Panza.”  

Josh was amenable.  I tried to tell him a little about Cervantes’ famous novel, about the idealistic chivalrous knight and his partner, a simple farmer, fighting evil.  It’s a bit of a “Star Wars” story, I told him.    

I’m not sure he got it, but so what? I’ll give it  to him again, at some point.  It’ll have more meaning.  

Meanwhile, the most important thing is being together in San Miguel: showing him the traveler side of his Nana, enjoying Josh and his emerging travel personna, winding up a fabulous trip, and  making lifelong memories! 

We're packing it up.  Adios, San Miguel! Hasta luegol.  Regresaremos!

Waiting for Josh: A travel lesson, again

We are home from San Miguel, safe and sound in Sylvania, with some great new memories.  Now I can tell this story.  I wrote it last Sunday, about a moment of anxiety, well, for a few hours. This is what happened, and how I felt then:

Josh at B&B Don Quixote.

Josh decided to walk back to the B&B from Starbucks at the Jardin, and he’s been gone over an hour.  I’m here to get online, check email, finish writing and posting another blog, and I’m taking too long. “I want to go back to the B&B,” Josh said.   “I’m almost done,” I responded, “and it’s a winding road.”    

“I know where I’m going,” he insisted. 

“Are you sure? Go down to Zacateros and to San Antonio and you’ll recognize the landmarks, right?”

“Yeah, right, I know Nana.  Trust me.  I know where I’m going.”

Hmm.  I want to trust him.  But now I’m getting a bit nervous.  The young Mexican man across the table from me notices it.  He saw Josh take off, and overheard our conversation I guess, and understood and spoke English fluently, as it happens.

“It’s hard to get lost in San Miguel,” he said, smiling. 

“So you can see I’m wondering where my grandson is!”

"Yes,” he said.  We chatted. He’s from Mexico City and his family has always spent Christmas in San Miguel. He goes to the University of California at Santa Cruz, and loves it.  “Not cheap, but beautiful! I love America.”

“Where are you from,” he asked.

“Ohio, Toledo, Ohio.” 

“Oh, I like Ohio. I visited Fostoria once!”

So we had a lovely chat.  But I decided to pack it up and look for Josh around Starbucks and the Jardin.

I’m back at Starbucks.  Waiting.   I’m thinking: I gave him 20 pesos when he left here, but I should have given him 30 pesos, so he could always hop in a taxi and find his way.

 A basic instinct for reassurance surfaces.   

I look out the window of Starbucks.  The Jardin is crowded, a typical Sunday, even more so because tomorrow night is New Year’s Eve. It’s hopping. It’s sunny, warm and bright out, and everyone is enjoying the day. Josh can’t be lost.     

I decide to go to the police and see if they can check the B&B.  They don’t speak English.  Told me to go next door to the Tourist center.  I did, and they called Maria, the owner of the Don Quijote B&B; she  went to check on Josh.  Yep, sure enough, he was there, playing games on his iphone. She put Josh on the phone.

“Josh!  I thought you were coming back to Starbuck’s.  I’ve been waiting 2 hours for you.”

I wonder where my Nana is.

“Nana, I never said that.  I’m here waiting for you!”

Got it.  Lesson learned, again: you can’t be too explicit or clear about meeting arrangements.  How many times do I have to learn this? And actually the young Mexican man was right: it’s hard to get lost in San Miguel!   

Feliz Ano Nuevo from San Miguel

December 31, 2012
"What's on today?"
"Errands. Then tonight, New Year's Eve in the Jardin." 
"Sounds good. Vamos! Let's go."

So on the last day of 2012, Josh and I ran around doing errands in town.  We confirmed the shuttle back to Leon airport for the 2^nd;  changed dollars for peso (at 12.50 peso to the dollar, a good deal);  went to the pharmacy for some Tendra, which relaxes the stomach (no big deal or anything); stopped at Mesa Grande wifi café to check email (and were gently reminded by the owner, who knows me well, that we had left the restaurant last time without paying).  

We walked to the park (above), where young kids played on swings, young men  played soccer or basketball, and a man went along a path walking seven dogs (Josh counted them!).  I noticed the murals and the flowers.  On the way back to the B&B for a little siesta, we stopped for lunch at a favorite outdoor street restaurant (under the yellow tent, Josh on his iphone waiting for his salad).  A women, Judi, whom we had met earlier at the Mercado (with her husband Michael, both from Oregon) saw us and joined us.  That happens a lot in San Miguel.  Josh is a delightful conversationalist, and we chatted about anything and everything, including that she was a pilot at one time, and now they are thinking of moving to San Miguel fulltime. 

Every day is an adventure, exploring new streets, scenes, and senses.

New Year's Eve in the Jardin was no exception. We headed there around 7pm to join a boisterous crowd.  The Christmas lights seemed  multiplied and magnified, the Parroquia glowed in heavenly light, the balloons and sparklers added to the festive spirit.  We didn’t make it to 12:00 midnight, but we did wait for the opening of a  Mexican rock and roll band.     

As we waited and people-watched, after dinner at a pretty restaurant, Josh regaled me with his incredible knowledge of the “Star Wars” series.  He knows every detail, the story, the characters, the lines, the meaning of the fight between good and evil, the complexities and intricacies of the productions.  He loves talking about it, and I love listening to him.  He calls himself a “Star Wars nerd!”   Honestly, his knowledge, insight and understanding is amazing.  He says the lines with passion, drama.  He treasures the three books he has on the series, and he can’t wait for a new series to begin, "sometime in 2015" he informed me.   He speculates what the sequel could be.  He’ll be 18 then! I think he’ll be the first in line to see that movie when it comes out.     

How thrilling to be in San Miguel with Josh on New Year's eve. What a wonderful time we had.  Memorable. What gratitude filled my heart.  Being with Josh on the dawn of 2013 was the best New Year’s ever! 

And the fireworks? Oh, right.  We were in bed when it hit 12 midnight.  Then I heard the boom, boom, boom.  The fireworks filled the night sky, from the Parroquia, around the hills, everywhere. The church bells pealed, joyously, on and on. I ran up to Josh' bedroom to get to our  rooftop deck, calling to a soundly sleeping Josh on the way.  It was glorious, and Josh finally did stir to join me for most of them.  Best view in town. Thrilling!  

(sometimes I think I'm wearing Josh out!).

Still Walking: On the go with John in San Miguel

Josh climbing the walla, looking like Spiderman! This is right across  the street from
 our B&B, La Jardin de Don Quijote.

The Parroguia at dusk, and on the horizon from the Instituto,

along with mansions on the hillside (top right).  Besides Josh ordering his Picasso hamburger, 

these are a few scenes along our walk on the secret path. 

We’ve been walking nonstop.  Every day to and from the Jardin, and at night to see the Parroguia lit up and the beautiful Christmas lights all about the center of town, mostly blue.  It reminded me of a Christmas I spent with Peace Corps friends Jud and Justin in Istanbul, around the Blue Mosque and St. Sophia's. 

This morning I asked Josh if he needed to do any laundry. "YES! Definitely.  Let's do it."  He put on his new shoes and his leather jacket (he looks so handsome!), and away we went on another little adventure, this time to the lavanderia.  Josh Learned that it's a nice way to get laundry done, by someone else.  Ater we dropped off our big load, I steered Josh along a “secret” path behind the La Aldea neighborhood where our B&B is, strolling past brightly painted houses, murals, and bougainvilla galore. It’s a path less traveled, and therefore more special.

Later, we went to the Saturday market at the Instituto de Allende, the famous art and language school that once brought lots of American expats to San Miguel; it was super-loaded with arts and crafts.  They were beautiful, but as Josh said,  “the stuff’s more expensive here than at the Mercado.”  True! 

"But I have a little surprise for you."  From the backside of the Instituto, behind the great muraled walls, there is a fantastic view of the town, and I guided Josh there for a look. “Awesome!” He took photos of the Parroquia and churches on the horizon, against a crystal clear blue sky, and the mansions on the hillsides.  It’s one of my favorite views of the town.

It’s great to be able to show Josh these kinds of “hidden” treasures behind the beautiful windows, walls and doorways of San Miguel.

On our Saturday walks we also made stops at shoe stores along the way from here to there, this time for me, with Josh very willing. "Your turn," he said thoughtfully. We finally found a pair of black comfy sandals on sale.  Josh was a big help.  We then had a nice lunch at a restaurant up Ancha de San Antonio, but the names of the items on the menu were more interesting than the food itself: named for world-famous artists, musicians and literary icons.  I got a Salvadore Dali and Josh a Picasso, or something like that!

Josh was still ready to keep going but, frankly, my feet and hips were sort of telling me to slow down (hate to admit it).  So I decided to go back to the B&B, and Josh decided to take a walk to the Park (Parque Juarez).  On his own, all by himself! He said he’d be back at the B&B in time to pick up our freshly washed and perfectly folded (which I could never duplicate) laundry.  He did it, and I think was proud of himself for finding his way around on his own.  He had energy to spare this afternoon, and at one point he was literally climbing the walls, like Spiderman. 

By now Josh is familiar with getting from our B&B in La Aldea, between Soledad and Orizaba, into and out of town.  He’s traversed streets named Zacateros, Pila Seca, Umeran, Hildalgo, Mesones, Insurgentes, Relox, Correo and Sollano. 

Tonight, I tell him, we’re going down Zacateros to Canal to Hernandez Marcias. "Why? Where are we going?"  

“Want to see a Beatles tribute band at the Teatre Angela Peralta, if we can get tickets?”  

Josh and I at Tio Lucas before the Beatles tribute concert at the Teatre.

“Yeah that sounds good.”  We had seen a similar concert in Sylvania a year before, the "1964" tribute band, and had fun.

So off we went.  Josh picked up a street dog on the way.  We had no trouble getting tickets, and had time to get a bite to eat at Tio Lucas, a great restaurant across the street from the Teatre.  I think it was one of the best meals we’ve had here.  Josh thought the chicken frajitas were delicious.  So did I.  But I caught Josh wrapping chicken and tortilla in a napkin.

"What are you doing?" 

"Ah, well, I can't help it Nana.  That dog needs food. He's so skinny."  

I understood. Josh went looking for the dog, but it had disappeared.  He finally left the food under a tree, hoping the dog might sniff it and get it. 

Then it was across the street to the Teatre for some Beatles music via what turned out to be a very talented Mexican tribute band calling itself "Sheep Dogs."  The first half was classic Beatles tunes, and the second  featured Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. The music was great, and the performers extraordinary.  I loved the Ringo Starr on drums best, but the guitars, bassist and keyboards were amazing, especially for the Sgt. Pepper songs. Josh probably got a bit bored, but he was a good sport.  

We walked home happy campers, under a starry sky with a full moon.   We never saw that dog again.

On the Way: Shoes and a Leather Jacket

Josh gets new black suede shoes on the way to the Mercado, via Bellas Artes art school.

SMA at night from the B&B rooftop. A full moon! 

What do you want to do today, Josh?  “Let’s go back to the Mercado.  I want to look for a gift for my dad.”  Okey dokey.  So after our huevo rancheros, off we went to the market, after a stop at my favorite wifi place, Café Mesa Grande.  On the way, Josh spotted a shoe store, and this time we had good luck.  Josh got a new pair of black suede shoes!

“On the way,” I told Josh, is one of the best things about traveling.  You may be headed toward a destination, but “on the way” you’ll discover some great places, see lots of shops, and make lots of stops. It’s okay.  It’s good!  “Yep, it’s how I got my shoes!”

We had good luck at the Artisans Mercado, too.  Josh found something for his dad  (I can only hint that’s it’s made of tin), and then spotted something for Kyle and his mom.  We managed to bargain the vendors down to 50 pesos.  What a deal! 

“Is that okay,” Josh asked  “To talk them down like that.”

“Oh yeah for sure,” I answered.  "In fact, you’re supposed to do that.  It's expected!” 

By now 2:00 pm, Josh was ready for lunch, and so was I.  “You got to make the guacamole,” Josh reminded me.  We had bought the ingredients the day before, fresh avocados, tomatoes and onion. 

A kind of “day 3  travel weariness” set in. "That’s what I call it", I said to Josh, and so we both agreed to taxi back to the B&B instead of walk it!  The guacamole awaited us, and a nap!

But wait! Was our day over?  Far from it.  We look at each other. "We can't just hang around," Josh said.  Jusst what I was thinking! Let's go for another walk, first to Cafe Mesa Grande to check email and facebook, then to the park.  Okay, so on the way..... 

Guess what?  Yep, we stopped in the leather shop, and found.....a beautiful leather jacket made for Josh!  He hesitated, checked with his sister, then decided. His first leather jacket on his first trip to Mexico!

We did make it to the park, which is beautiful, and to a classy part of town, higher up in the mountains.  I remember taking my grandchildren Julia and Tony there, many years ago.  Josh loved it, too.  Another great day in paradise! 

In San Miguel with Grandson Josh

Leonardo mural, Biblioteca, top left.  Josh & me at Hecho en Mexico; Josh, in front of a beautiful carved and painted door on Ancho San Antonio, a main street; at Jardin de Don Quijote,, in his room and on his deck, from which you can see the town;, on the balcony surrounded by red bougainvilla;  at the oldest church; and at the Mercado de Artesenia, bottom right corner.

I woke up this morning and wondered where I was, then it came to me,  oh my god, I’m in San Miguel!”  Josh, my fifteen-year-old grandson, was telling me about how his first day had started as we ate dinner at Hecho En Mexico.

And we are having the best time together.  Josh is a sponge, and he noticed right away, as we traveled from Leon to San Miguel in our shuttle van, that “We aren’t in America anymore.This is definitely Mexico!” he said, as he took in the countryside and the mountains, the towns, the landscape of the dry high desert, the architecture, the roadside stands.   Right away he noticed lots of beat up old cars, still going, a true Mexican talent. What a gift to be traveling with my grandson to a place I know and love!

After a long travel day on Wednesday, 26 December, from Detroit (our flight left at 6am) to Houston to Leon/Guanajuato, Mexico, otherwise uneventful, we got to San Miguel at 5:00 pm, and got settled in our B&B, the Jardin de Don Quijote, as colorful and cheerful as always, the lush garden in full bloom. Josh discovered two cute ducks wandering around the fountain.  We wondered how they got there.  Maria, the owner, and her daughter Alajandria, greeted us warmly, and so did Dona, the revered 90-something nanny and grandma. Josh even managed hola, mucho gusto, and gracias in Spanish.  He charmed the Garcias!

“Want to take a walk into town,” I asked Josh.  He looked at me, eyes half shut. I think he was thinking “Is she serious?” but only said “Sure!”  Tired as he were, Josh decided to stay up a little longer instead of crashing. What a good traveler! 

So we took our first walk into town, to the Jardin, where Josh got his first glimpse of a lively Mexican public square and the famous Parroquia, the beautiful cathedral.  It was a warm and balmy night, with an almost full moon, and the bells of the cathedral tolled as we arrived. We walked around the square and then got a bite to eat at the Café de Jardin, where my sister and I had enjoyed meals and margaritas.  We sat at a table outside where we met Ricardo, an IT worker from southern Mexico on vacation with his wife and two kids. We learned a lot just sitting with him and listening to him talk about Mexico.

Josh is absorbing it all: the language, the culture, the architecture, the cobble-stoned streets, the people, the street life.  He liked his first glimpse of all the little shops where you can buy everything imaginable. We got back to the B&B and crashed.

On day two, after a hearty breakfast served by the Garcia family’s long-time cook Marilou, we took another long walk into and around town.  I decided we’d go to the Biblioteca and the Artisan’s Mercado, to catch more street life, indigenous arts and crafts, and the feeling, sights and sounds of San Miguel’s bustling, joyful daily life. Josh loved it. He liked the David Leonardo mural at the Biblioteca, and especially liked the Mercado, where you can buy everything from Mexican crafted souvenirs, fresh fruits and vegetable, cheese and edible cactus, to homemade toys, and inside, everything from produce to clothes. 

 “Can we go back to the Mercado” he asked at the end of the day.  Sure thing. Anytime. We’re getting into the pace and lifestyle of beautiful San Miguel.  We’re taking it easy, taking it in, and having a ball!      

Colors: San Miguel Street Scenes

Colors, a nice artisan's shop on Zacateros. Below, street colors.  

Color galore.  That's what makes San Miguel special.  These street scenes just wouldn't fit into a Ukrainian setting.  Mediterranean, Latin and South America, parts of the American southwest, maybe.  But these colors and styles in such grand abundance, around every corner, up and down the hillsides, around back alleys, in the center of town, and out beyond the Mercado, are distinctively San Miguel de Allende.  It lifts the spirit. 

Viva San Miguel.  

Movies, Music and San Miguel: A Nice Trio

Christopher Plummer& Ewen MacEwen; Atwood cover, Yahoo photos.

I'm going to lots of movies and concerts here in San Miguel.  Or I should say I am walking to them.  Maybe that’s why I’m going to so many.  This town has something going every day and night, all enticing, and easy to get to.  Like the literary festival held at the Hotel de Minas, featuring Margaret Atwood, which was sold out so I couldn't get in; art exhibits just about every night; daily film series and lectures at the Biblioteca and the tiny Puppet Theatre; jazz at the Peralta Theatre and other venues, including restaurants and cafes.

I’m going to an Oscar party on 29 February, so I’m catching up on the movies.  My favorites have been  Beginners, with outstanding acting by Christopher Plummer and Ewan MacKwen;  Jose Reneyos, a wonderful documentary about a Latino judge and his civil  rights struggles and triumphs from the Caesar Chavez years in California to the Gore election nightmare in Florida;  In the Wake of the Flood, a documentary about an environmental book tour designed and undertaken by Margarat Atwood, a great writer but the documentary seemed a bit dowdy; and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, nice photography, some great acting but way too long and a bit overwrought, I thought.  I’m glad I had read the book first.  Some of these movies are up for Oscars in various categories, so I’ll go to the Oscar party more informed than when I got to SMA.  Estelle, from NYC, a SMA regular for some 15 years, who has seen every Oscar- nominated movie and more, says forget about seeing the films.  Just don’t forget a bottle of wine and something to eat! 

One of the best events was a fantastic concert by three accomplished musicians:  Qing Li, violin; Richard Fowling, piano; and Jeffry Solow, cello. Saint-Saens, Maurice Ravel, Handal and Dvorak filled St. Paul’s Church, where these ”Pro Musica” concerts take place.  The musicians played together flawlessly, brilliantly, as if they had played together all their lives, or had practiced a lot before this performance.  But really they were all in San Miguel for a rare trio, and the cellist was a substitute.  The very difficult contrapuntal and disharmonious Ravel was mesmerizing and moving.  The well-informed audience jumped to its feet at the last note with spontaneous wows and bravos for the musicians.  Waves of gratitude and appreciation.  This trio could cut CDs that would sell really well, anywhere.    

Music, movies and San Miguel. This is one of the best trios of all!   

Ola Mexico!

Street scenes, the colors of SMA, crafts, doors and windows.
I did buy the Lupercio painting in the center!
Below, the flag, churches, a woman doll maker.  

Some things are unigue to a place, define it and the culture.  Like the Taj Mahal in Agra, India; the Pyramids in Egypt and the Valley of the Kings near Luxor; the Blue Mosque and Saint Sophia's in Istanbul;  the Vatican in Rome and the Duomo in Florence;  Wenseslas Square with its magical clock in Prague;  St Mary's church in Krakow; the Opera House in Sydney, Australia.  

Beyond the landmarks are the scenes of daily life, the history, the folklife of a place, which evoke such interest and joy. Watching craftspeople and artists at work, women embroidering, men digging and plastering, rug makers and sellers, ubiquitous hawkers, children coming from school, holiday parades and celebrations, families gathering on their sabbaths, evidence of conquests and triumphs, friends greeting one another on the street, musicians playing on street corners and at cafes.    

Here are some scenes, above photos, that say "Mexico" to me.  The bright colors of buildings and nature;  the elderly women who make traditional dolls; the architecture; the cobbled stone streets; the intricately carved doors, painted windows and bountiful crafts; and in San Miguel, the elegant Parroquia, catching the sun during the day, lit up like a heavenly star at night.  It centers this place.  It says San Miguel.  Ola, Mexico!     

Mind Games for the Aging Brain

Painting (donated by Maria Louise Cohen)
on wall of the Bridge Room,
Hotel de Minas. 

I'm taking bridge lessons in San Miguel with Gary Mitchell, a master player and outstanding teacher. Gary and his wife live here year round and love it.  "It's paradise!"  he says, in the same enthusiastic voice with which he teaches his favorite card game.  

I bought his book, which he says we should study, and study and study.  What about Goren and others, I ask. He laughs.  Forget it. Terribly outdated, he says. Toss those old bridge books out.  The rules of the game have changed tremendously, become more refined.

So now I'm learning the game a la Gary Mitchell.  It's fun, and it's hard. But what a great way to keep one's mind agile.  Focus, logic, memory.  All basic requirements to play bridge.  I  can see that it will take years to learn to play the game well.

I will give you the basics, Gary says, but the best way to learn is to memorize the fundamentals, know the rules, apply the lessons and play.   Keep playing. "So we can play contract bridge soon," another learner says with a smile.  "Oh no. No way!" he says.  "You'll be beginners for at least two years."  What? "beginners" for two years?

Okay, I'm resigned.  I probably won't continue playing with my friend Phyllis and her lovely bridge group back in Sylvania (with great thanks for steering me back to the game), but I'll be open to practice games with learners, keeping my brain going, and knowing I'll be a beginner for quite a while.  A beginner to the end!

My San Miguel B & B es Mi Casa

Entrance to El Jardin de Don Quijote B&B, 
and Don Quijote in the garden, below

A Jaime Jimenez Lupercio painting I'm considering. So Mexican!

I've stayed at some great hostels and B&B's in my travels, like the funky Lavender Circus in Budapest and Egyptian Nights in Cairo.  But El Jardin de Don Quijote is one of the prettiest.  It's the home of Maria and Javier Soccoro Barrera, with rooms built around the Spanish-style main house and the copiously flowering courtyard garden watched over by Don Quijote himself.   It's $25 a night, including breakfast.  It's a few blocks from the main street going into and out of town, Ancho de San Antonio, and near the famous Instituto, now an art and language school.  It's a 10-minute walk to the central square, the Jardin, and in walking distance to shops and restaurants;  tailors, shoe repair, watch repair and laundry; the wonderful Juarez Park and other little parks and green spaces; the Biblioteca and the Artisans' Mercado;  several small hotels like Posada de Aldea, where you can have a fantastic Sunday brunch, and a new luxurious hotel, the Rosewood (overly sumptuous and expensive, for the very wealthy, mostly Mexicans, I'm told).

My rooms at B&B & SMA scenes. A David Leonardo at Hecho en Mexico right.

David Leonardo at Hecho en Mexico

Since being back in San Miguel, I remember why my apartment in Sylvania, Ohio, looks the way it does: It's my Mexican casita, mi casa.  After two years in Ukraine, all my stuff in storage, and three years away from Mexico, I had forgotten.  But my apartment is full of Mexican arts and crafts, paintings and decorations. It has tiled, painted and tin mirrors; art on the walls by David Leonardo, Roz Farbush, Vermillion and other well-known artists--still painting, still exhibiting, still featured at galleries, the library, restaurants like Hecho en Mexico.   Mi casa is brightly painted.  It's definitely more of a Mexican apartment than a Ukrainian pysansky Easter egg.  It has a Mexican feeling and spirit.  My Ukrainian friend Tamila said it when she was in Ohio visiting from Cherkasy, Ukraine over New Year's:  so much color and light, so bright and Spanish!

So I'm back in San Miguel, in a lovely B&B, in a Mexican frame of mind.  And I've seen another painting that I think would look great in my living room.  It's by Jaime Jimenez Lupercio (first photo above), a highly acclaimed artists from Mexico City, a new artist for me but not for afficianados and collectors around the world.   I've said no more art. I've got enough.  My walls are full.  But can I resist this piece?

So, when I'm in my San Miguel B&B I feel at home, and when I'm at home in Sylvania, well, I feel like I'm in San Miguel. Mi Casa es tu Casa es Case de San Miguel es mi casa.    

Meeting People in SMA

I'm having a cafe con leche and biscotti at La Mesa Grande on the corner of Zacateros and Pila Seca.  It's a rare grey rainy day, chilly, and it's been a busy morning here.  We're all visitors, helping the Mexican economy. Americans and Canadians come here to be warm, so the weather is a big topic of conversation.  A good conversation starter.

This is how photo of the Cafe uploaded! 

I'm sitting at a long wooden table with a woman and her two kids who have lived here for 10 years, formerly from Portland, Oregon; a retired ice hockey player from Vancouver, originally from Ireland;  a couple from San Franciso;  a woman, Nancy, who moved to San Miguel to have horses; a couple from New York City who have been coming for over 20 years;  a gay couple from 'Detroit, Canada,' as one of them, who just bought a house here, put it; and a handsome naturalized Mexican man originally from Indiana, an architect and builder   Some of us are here for coffee, a snack or lunch; others with our computers, catching up on email, facebook, blogging.  I've been here the longest, so people come and go and I get to meet them all.  A friendly "hola" and "where are you from," and we have a nice conversation.

It's one of the best things about being in San Miguel.  

In San Miguel, Mexico

Don Quijote B&B, San Francisco Church, Andy enjoying, a David Leonardo nural, Street scenes.

I'm in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, kicking back, enjoying the beauty and the pace.  I read about the bitter cold in Ukraine and think of my friends.  I get emails from my daughters saying things are okay in Sylvania,  normal, kids okay.  My friends post updates on facebook.  I miss them all, and feel blessed to be here in the mountains of Mexico where the sun shines and the flowers bloom and, for a while, American politics seem frivilous and far away.