The World Famous Aunt Nina

Holy smokes, its Friday already. Sorry cucumber fans. I have been busy doing absolutely nothing of importance. Except yesterday. Yesterday familia pepina visited Aunt Nina in Kentwood. Now, I know nothing even trivial about Kentwood, but Aunt Nina, I am sure, could tell about its founding, its government structure, and what winter taxes were in 48'. The woman is amazing, and I do not exagerate. This energetic octingenarian, originally from the mountains of North Carolina, served in the Army during WWII (along with her sister, where they met and eventually married brothers), she volunteers for Every Organization You Can Think Of (EOYCTO), she drives a hot rod all over the place, and often. And much, much, more. In fact, so much more that the Pepino Suave Editorial Board (PSEB) has decided to devote one entry a month to Aunt Nina's Adventures and Tales of Adventure (ANATA). Once a month. Stay tuned.
Anyway, yesterday we get to Aunt Nina's around 11:00 a.m. She has the table ready: big plate of various homemade cookies, brownies, you know, stuff made with real butter. There was coffee, cream, and sugar for us big people, and juice for Talea. Talea, of course, made a b-line for the suitcases packed with doll stuff that are kept underneith the guest bed in the north end of the trailor. The grown ups drank coffee and talked about Everything and Anything (no acronym). We learned that Aunt Nina has been very busy, as usual. Lots of miles on the road during Christmas travel. We saw lots of cards and pictures from a family that stretched from the Carolina swamps to the Indiana plains, and then some.
That is just a modest introduction of the World Famous Aunt Nina. My staff and I are working on the first monthly entry of ANATA as I type these words. We'll be back...

Encantado,

Pepino Sobrino

Zion Lutheran Church Nativity

After more than a week of waiting, Pepino fans may now enjoy pictures of Talea's gripping protrayal of an Angel in Zion's 2005 Christmas pageant. Pardon the delay.
She's the sixth kid from the left. Behind the script.

Also, the Pepino Suave staff have provided you with images of the Pickled Clan selecting and transporting their yuletide lumber.

A final contribution to your viewing pleasure is a napping Talea, after a morning of searching, cutting, loading, and delivering her fir tree.

The staff begs your pardon, again, for the layout of the photos. Due to our lack of blog savvy, the pix have the appearance of a handful of photos grabbed from a shoe box and tossed onto the coffee table. May we pretend that we meant it that way? Creative, no? Down home.

Siempre pensando,

Pepino Cumplido y staff

Felicitacions

For all those Pepino Suave fans who acknowledge Christmas, may you have a merry one. For all others, I hope you are having a merry day, as well.
Pepino Suave and The Chicks are enjoying a wonderful holiday. First, we are together; a pack of peppy pickles. Second, we are home; a humble abode down Bingham lane. Lastly, we have much to be thankful for, and are bursting with gratitude. 2005 was a busy year, full of adventure and accomplishment. What we have lost in teeth, we have gained in experience.
We began our Christmas at midnight service last night (why does midnight service begin at 11:00?). Traditionally, we at Zion Lutheran end the service by singing "Silent Night" as we all hold a lit candle and the lights are dimmed. This year sweet Inky broke tradition by allowing her candle to ignite the plastic wax holder. The ball of flame and toxic smoke wasn't half as distracting as Inky's cry of, "oh, oh, oh, oh!", and the coughing fit of the septegenarians sitting behind us. Christ is born...
Santa came. Talea got an Easy Bake Oven from the old fellah. Ink and I chipped in for a new bike, and Grandma and Grandpa got her a Razor scooter. I want one. Talea has already been out riding her bike. Guess what I got Inky? A yoga mat. Yep. Dear Inky got me hair clippers. I'm not kidding. I'm a well groomed Pepino. I gifted both my girls the Clay Aiken Christmas CD. They adore me. Clay, too. I mean the girls adore Clay as well as me. Not saying Clay adores me. I think he is a little loose in the loafers, if you ask me.

Pepino out.

PD Merry Christmas, friends

El Mosquitero

Six months ago the Pepino Chicks were sweating under Gregorio's mosquitero. Lamby, too.

Hace demasiado frio,

Pepino Helado

La Cocina

Sorry to report that I still have not developed the Zion Lutheran Church's 2005 Christmas Pageant pictures. Pepino Slacking. To bide you until I get motivated, here is a flashback to the Pepino Dominican Republic tour in June. Talea is helping Gregorio's sister in the kitchen. I think she is holding dinner.

Tengo hambre,

Pepino No Cumplido

Trineo

I know. Pepino Suave followers around the globe plead, "Pictures! Post the pictures!" I promised pictures of Talea's dramatic portrayal of an angel and my return to the First World for yesterday's entry. I failed you, dear reader, and I am sorry for that. It is just that sledding at Johnandlinda's and winterizing the windows trumped going to Sam's club to get the pix on a CD. We'll try again today, although the sledding hill beckons yet again. It is a toasty 22 degrees out as I type. A balmy breeze is blowing down-slope, and the snow should be slick from yesterday's sledders. Pepino and staff make no promises today; just stay tuned.

Juguemosnos,

Pepino Resbaloso

Vuelvo

Pepino Suave is state-side. I was planning to leave town on Thursday. With Profesor Fidencio's permission, and knowing that there was nothing left to top my Mariachi concert on Saturday, I took the first plane out of Durango on Sunday morning. I was in Zion Lutheran Church in time for Talea's Sunday school Christmas play, much to her and Ingrid's surprise. I'll post pictures of the play in tomorrow's entry. Talea portrayed and angel, a part she plays in real life if well rested and fed.

Hace mucho frio,

Pepino Casero

Mariachi Gringo

I ended my mariachi career on a high note. Today, seventy- plus people packed the Vizcaya ball room to hear Pepino Suave sing Vincente Fernandez´"El Rey". It was an emotional moment. Many were in tears. Many were aghast. Look at the face on Manuela, the lady in red to my right in the picture below.

Gracias a mis queridos fanaticos,

Pepino "Mariachi" Suave

Las Posadas

Today is was the last ¨normal¨day of classes at the Escuela Secundaria Tecnica Numero 1. Las Pasadas begin today, and continue until the 6th of January. Next week is sure to be nuts. I am told kids bring cakes, candy, and music every day in hope that the profesores will allow them a posada party instead of the planned activity. Apparently, their wish is normally granted. No one wants to be El Scrooge.
Posada means hotel or inn. Las posadas celebrate Mary and Joseph´s search for shelter. Here it is often celebrated each night, beginning tonight. Each neighborhood might elect a boy or girl to be the key actors, and then several others follow them around the barrio singing viancicos (Christmas carols). The evening ends at a predetermined household where they are told to hit the road. Las Posadas culminate on Noche Buena (Christmas Eve), and usually at the local church, where they are welcomed in, offered buñuelos, chocolate, churros, and other goodies. Kids go sugar-bonkers, everyone dances, and there is lots o´music. Generally speaking.
Today the kids got a head start. During the last class adolescents ran the campus smearing cake icing on each other, throwing confetti in the air, and dancing. Yea, there was music. I attempted to make it somewhat instructional by banding together a small group of the hellions and singing ¨Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer¨, with gestures and all. It worked for a few minutes.
Tomorrow morning is the staff Christmas party at a local hotel. I am scheduled to sing Vincente Fernandez´"El Rey". The Spanish teacher and I have been rehearsing each morning during the week. I´ll wear a pancho and a Mariachi hat. There´ll be a mike. And live music. Being as my Mariachi dream was frustrated, this is a nice way to rap up my floundering music career.
Got to go rest my voice.

Con dinero y sin dinero,

El Rey Pepino

Dedos Morados

Today, millions of Iraqi turned out for the first full term election since a dictator was taken from power. Even the Sunni, many led by bloodthirsty, tribal, "religious" zealots, were encouraged to vote in an effort not to have a democratic process tip away the power they had enjoyed under a dictatorshop. The foreboding violence turned out to be much less than expected; we should thank the Higher Power of our particular faiths and many brave soldiers for that. The reports I have heard today have made me hopeful and, mostly, extremely proud.
The image of a purple stained finger will remain in my memory.

Gozando de lo bueno,

Pepino Gringo, Cien Por Ciento

PD Sorry for the heavy but the news of the election is too wonderful not to mention. Also, Ingrid is not here to keep me reigned-in. Peace.

Saliò De Su Papá

Ingrid and Talea dining in Zacatecas. Sideways.

I miss that face.

Me hacen falta las mias,

Pepino Papà

Ink and Talea: Shopping Day

Man, I have no idea how to format this blog. Our research team, Bob the Gorilla and the Singing Bananas, is looking into this. I hope you get the feeling of the Pepinas´ Saturday morning on the town, starting with a pancake breakfast, and ending at Iris´s Dollar Exchange. Start at the picture on the bottom left, and then proceed clockwise. Careful for neck injuries.

Ando solo,

Pepino Poco Plata
P.D. Say hi to my ladies for me. They are missed here in Durango.

Joe D´s Barber Shop

This is where Uncle Joe got a sassy trim for a couple bucks U.S. back in November.
Joe, a side note: That burly fellow in the white t-shirt said you stiffed the girls a tip. What do you want me to do? Do I dip into the Pepino Petty Cash Fund? Please advise.

Temblando en mis botas,

Pepino Codo

Vincente Guerro

Profesor Fidencio and I drove an hour south of Durango to the town of Vincente Guerro on Friday morning. I was invited to talk to the students at Fidencio´s former secondary school about the importance of learning a second language. My talk took place in the school´s library. It was set up very Mexican style: a podium and microphone on a raised platform flanked by tables on a higher platform where administrators, the town mayor, and others sit amongst plastic flowers and bottles of water. Uniformed school girls stood erect on either side of the tables. The school´s counselor was the master of cermony. After using tons of language to express very simple ideas, or none at all, he introduced me. I got up from my place at the table and stepped toward the microphone, forgetting that I was a good step above the podium. I tripped. It was a slow motion trip. We all saw it coming but no one could stop me. I was in motion. I grabbed the closest thing I could get my arms around - one of the uniformed girl guards. I held on to her like I hadn´t seen her in years, which, in fact, I hadn´t. We were total strangers. For being accosted by a strange gringo, the young lady maintained her composure incredibly well, while supporting me as best her 90-some pounds could. I tried to recover by hugging the master of ceremony, a teacher, and a mom standing beside the podium, as if pre-public speaking hugs were part of my culture. I not only didn´t pull it off, but I think I offended the mom in the process. I have felt more affection hugging a lamp post (we´ll save that one for a future entry).
My talk went without any other surprises, although I don´t think my audience could overcome the shock of my introduction. I did that walking-through-the audience thing while I talked, you know, to get that Phil Donahue thing going. Kids would lean away from me as I approached. At the end of my appearance I was presented a plaque, but was not invited to return. I think I lost that gig. There will always be other small, dusy, desert towns to appear in.

Cuidado con donde pisas,

Pepino Tropezón

Hockey Night in Mexico

I can´t seem to stay awake through an entire Amor En Costodia. Watching Spansh cartoons is not the same without Talea. Thursday night I found myself channel switching. To my surprise, channel 83 had the Blue Jackets/Islanders game on. The game tied up late in the third period, went into overtime, and was decided by a shootout. I don´t know what was more surprising, Columbus` win or Federov skating in a Blue Jacket uniform.

Sin hielo,

Pepino Patinador

Se Fueron

Ingrid and Talea left this morning before daybreak. Although I have not heard from them yet, it appears they have arrived home safely to snowy Grand Rapids (according to the Continental website). I hope to hear from them tonight.
Last night we hosted a steady stream of friends wishing my ladies a good trip.
The first thing Talea said when she woke up this morning was, "I miss Grandma." I think she has been preparing for her return since August.
Ingrid, on the other hand, developed a migrain just thinking of returning. She has definately had a fine time here, and left behind some great friends. She will be missed.
I will keep track of Amor En Costodia, pop the remaining popcorn, and empty the refrigerator during my remaining two weeks here in balmy Durango.
Any requests from the Gigante?

Me dejaron,

Pepino Soltero

P.D. JoeD - Keep your mits off the blog. Although a great picture, and the cowboy was well groomed, I wouldn´t want to scare the parents of my students anymore than I already have. Save the picture for bribe money once I make it big in early elementary education. Also, I´m saving a Noche Buena for you in the fridge. Don´t tempt me. I´ll drink it. I swear.

Mexican Television

No, the Pepinos don´t simply watch Amor en Costodia. Talea and Yours Truly have enjoyed the obviously un-dubbed and un-subtitled Mr. Bean sagas, as well as the classic Mexican sitcom Chavo del 8. We own a collectors edition Chavo doll. Do you have a Chavo doll? Double click on "Mexican Television" above to visit the official Chavo del 8 website. Sadly, we leave cable tv watching in Durango, only to return to three fuzzy local stations. First World blues...

Que cable,

Pepino Fanatico

El Churro

Ingrid and Talea leave Mexico this week. Talea´s last goal is simply to get home. Ingrid´s is to taste the Mexican Churro. Churros are like donuts back home; deep fried and fatty (although a bit crispier than the average american pastry). I actually only like them when they are warm and fresh. Unfortunately, churros are mostly found being peddled on the street, uncovered and shouldered on sheet pans by men who most likely wouldn´t have a future in food service back home. Just a humble pepino´s opinion. The Pepinita Churro countdown is 52 hours, 32 minutes.

Que rico,

Pepino Pastelero

Los Menonites

Today we rode a couple hours north of town to Menonite country, guided by our friends Jorge and Irma. Nuevo Leon is a small town located in nothern Durango state. This area has been farmed by Menonite familes since shortly after World War 2. Click on Los Menonites above for more information about the Menonite settlements in Mexico. Above I have a picture of the Menonite carritos sighted often around Nuevo Leon.

Quiero queso,

Pepino Menonito

Se Lo Encargo

I went looking for the immigration office today. In preparing for Ink and Talea´s departure, and mine, as well, I needed to get some paper work signed, fingers printed, and fees paid in order to insure a smooth getaway. All I had was an address the airport policeman gave me more than three months ago when I arrived here. I normally take a bus into the center, but decided on a taxi being that I didn´t know exactly where I was going. Taxistas are the best informed people in Mexican society. Bet you any Mexican taxista could find Hoffa if the fair was decent. Except one. My luck, I score a novice chofer. Guy´s only been back in town a year after spending ten years in Chicago. I had to tell him which way the addresses go in town. We got lost twice. Our misadventure not only allowed the fair to skyrocket, but we got to know each other. He spoke little English ("Check it out" was his verbal tic. He wanted me to "check it out" every other sentence, and then he´d go right back into Spanish), and knew little of the U.S. outside of Chicago, but he held Americans in high regard. He said gringos were always very helpful and understanding of him. Plus, he commented, his American-made wages help send his kids to school - his two boys are engineers now. By the time we pulled up to the immigration office, the fair was the highest I´ve seen in Durango ($3.00 US more or less). I got out of the taxi and bent into the passenger window to pay him. He waived me off saying, "Check it out. You are my friend. No way," and he drove back into traffic.
Something else impressed me on this taxi drive. As we were nearing my destination we stopped at a light. I recognized a lady on the corner, a fellow teacher. I waved at her, and she waved back, than looked at the driver and yelled, "!Se lo encargo, ¿heh?" (I am putting him in your hands o.k.?). She was ensuring that the driver knew that someone here is accountable for me. Watching out for me. You see that alot here. A sense of responsibility for the welfare of another. Confianza.

Con mucha confianza,

Pepino Perdido

Coco Pelado

I had the barber shave my head the other day. It was a good deal. For 30 pesos I read the paper while he scalped me, messaged my bean with oil, and powdered it like a baby´s bottom. I was out of there in twenty minutes feeling sleaker than a stealth bomber. Wind whistled off my dome as I cut thrue the air, certaintly making better time than I did before I met the blade. I imagine I reached home seconds earlier than what it took me getting to the Barber of Durango. Time is money.

Next day, I get "Te quedaste dormido en el caballito (you fell asleep on the horsey)" from everyone and their sister. I asked the good Fidencio (my boss and author of "Fridays are mine" fame) what that was all about. He says it is what you say to a survivor of a severe haircut. It refers to the little play ponies they have in the children´s barber shops. You sit your kid on one, hoping he´s distracted by the aquine, while he gets buzzed. "Imagine if he falls asleep on one," Fidencio explained, "a kid could end up looking like you." Funny man.

In Colombia folks would say, "te cayiste del bus (you fell off the bus)" if you got a tragic trim. Although I knew the colombians were referring to a bad haircut, I never did get the relationship between the hatchet job and tumbling off of public transport, nor did I think to ask a confidant. Our research team is looking into it.

I got a shoe shine this week, too. Abdicated my weekly shining habit to an elderly man in the Plaza de Armas who, fifteen minutes and 15 pesos later, named every state in the U.S. (23) that he had picked fruit or vegetables over his 23 year carreer as a bracero. He has seen more U.S. states than Mexican (4). He shines shoes in retirement. Does a right fine job, too. Puts my shine to shame.

Más piel que pelo,
Pepino Pelado