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

Boom

Every morning I wake up to explosions. No kidding. I get up at five or so, get the coffee going, and than do some stretches in front of the T.V. By the time the coffee begins gurgling I hear a series of loud bangs, then silence. Within minutes, more bangs. During my first weeks in town I would shuffle over to the back room (the wash room;where the hired help does the laundry -see Ink`s site) and look out between the bars of the window towards the mountains north of town. Nothing. I´d go back to my stretches only to hear more banging within minutes.
Of course, when I ´d ask people what all the racket was they´d look at me like I was one tomale short of a docena. No one seems to hear what I hear, not even my ladies; they just sleep through the noise. Well it turns out, upon talking to an old timer here, the noise comes from explosions at the Copalquin mining operation in the Cerro de Mercado mountain just two miles north of town. Copalquin, by the way, is a Canadian owned mining company. Another aside: it was recently reported that Canada has the worst environmental record of all developed countries in the world. A bonus aside: hockey isn´t played in Mexico. But that is neither here nor there. Point is, I wasn´t hearing things. Or I was. You know what I mean.

Same thing with the blasted trains. I´d hear the whistle blowing as I rose up early in the morn, often and loud, but everyone claimed that trains don´t run through Durango anymore. In fact, I good friend, while driving me through town, insisted that I quit insisting that I heard trains going through town. Minutes after she said that, traffic stopped. For a train.

Gotta go see a man about a horse,

Pepino "!Oiga eso!" Suave

P.S. Click on "Boom" above to learn more about the Canadian company that explodes stuff in the mountains just a couple miles north of here.

El Jardìn

Late afternoon, the nieghborhood jardín is full of activity: kids horsing around, young ladies rehearsing dance steps, young men posing, and older folks sitting on the benches. Here we have a few neighborhood children letting loose after a day of school and the mid-day comida.
El Jardinero, P.S.

Trabajos Estudiantiles

Here is a sample of work from a couple of my students. They collaborated on the story at left (click to enlarge) using structures we have worked on this fall. Above is the creative way the girls chose to present the story. Most the kids presented their stories in the form of dramatic plays. These girls created a puppet theatre. The picture above shows the grandma, her home and bird. Not pictured is the cage; it was a neat prop that didn´t get photographed (I ran out of battery).

Desde el salòn,

Prof. Suave

La Changa

Llegamos. Early return due to Talea´s re-accuring bout with the turistas. I knew she wasn´t herself when she looked at the Cero de Bufa like it was a plate of cold brussel sprouts.
Talea is part monkey. She scales anything. She managed to figure out that she can shim up the doorway to our family room. She climbs me like a jungle gym. So when she looked at the Bufa without the jaw-dropping, eye-widening, "conquer!" attitude expected from Talea of the Apes, we knew we´d better get back to town and get some Tylenol. After breakfast this morning we took the first Omnibus back to Durango.
Zacatecas is like the product of a marriage between rugged Durango and beautiful, curvy San Francisco. I had my best cup of instant coffee there. I don´t know if it was so much the coffee as the teeth-chattering cold making even a warm cup of powdered coffee taste great. Like Durango, and San Miguel, and most of the towns along this cordillera, Zacatecas is a defunct mining town. It lingers on by peddling light tourism, light industry, and by the incredible resourcefulness of the locals, who we find tranquil, hardworking, and extremely polite.

Say Zacatecas 30 times real fast,

Pepino "Usted parece a Clint Eastwood, sabe?" Suave

Zacatecas Ilustrado

These are few glimpses of our day. See the young lady taking a break on the Cero de la Bufa? How ´bout that gorgeous lass walking down the callejón? The señor with the mule is a common sight in these parts; he is selling aguamiel, a popular drink made from the pulp of a type of cactus; said to be a healing tonic. I also have some shots of merchandise and merchants.
Pardon the format. I am techno-impaired.

Órale, Pepino Atrasado

El Gracioso

Israel is a smart aleck. He chose to sport his Union Jack jacket on our Thanksgiving Day, of all days. He wore a chesire grin all class long. Great timing, Israel. We won our (only) revolution..

Para la patria,

Pepino Rojo, Blanco, y Azul

Zacatecas

Don`t come knocking, `cause we`re not home. Ingrid, Talea, and I left for Zacatecas Friday afternoon. We left Durango, Durango at 3:30 pm on the Omnibus line and arrived in Zacatecas, Zacatecas at 8:30 pm. This is our last journey before the girls head home in two weeks. Although we have not traveled much in our months here, we have had the opportunity to visit Mexico city, San Miguel de Allende, and now Zacatecas.
Like Durango, Zacatecas is the capital of a state with the same name. And like Durango, it is an old mining town, established years ago by folks seeking their fortunes in silver and other metals found in the mountains in this region.
We`ll fill you in upon return. Be back Sunday night.

Mineralmente,

Pepino Viajero

Día de Acción de Gracias

Thanksgiving in Mexico was almost as good as at home, thanks to Ingrid. She roasted a 30kg turkey to perfection, whipped up potatoes creamier than butter, and cut a store-bought apple pie like a surgeon. Juan Daniel and his mom Elsa brought a great bottle of (German) wine and helped us devour the feast.

As I arrived to our apartment, I could smell the bounty from the elevator. Talea met me at the door excited and hungry. She and I went around the block to el supermercado Gigante to buy last minute groceries for the cook. Juan Daniel and Mom arrived within minutes of our return. After eating the bird and trimmings, we lounged around the sala watching football (American) and chatting about our experiences here.

Thursday and Friday are work days here. No holiday for these pilgrims. We spent a good part of the day and evening explaining to students and friends what Thanksgiving means to us and how the celebration began. As much as the Mexicans enjoy an incredible amount of holidays throughout the year, our Thanksgiving is truly unique and hard to compare to a Mexican equivalent.

Satisfecho,

Pepino Barrigón

San Miguel de Allende Scenes

Here are a few shots of San Miguel de Allende and environs. The parroquia, or cathedral, was taken from a high spot a mile or so south of town just before dusk. It is the symbol of San Miguel de Allende. You´ll get an idea of San Miguel´s cobble stone streets. I´m also including a sample of the Sierra between the towns of San Miguel de Allende and St. Louis de Potosi. I´ll try to fit in a picture of the bullfighting arena and a sample of some of the beautiful patios in a future entry. These three pictures will hopefully give you a tast of what we experienced.

Desde Nueva España,
Pepino Peligrino

El Mapa Antes y Despuès

Mapa Mundi

The map project has finally ended. After a couple of weeks of work, and a ton of help from the Deltoso family, Michelle "Meeker" Manion, Talea, and her schoolmates, La Escuela Guadalupe Revilla has it´s very own 4 meter by 8 meter map of the world. Ingrid will write in more detail about the project on her blogsite. In the meantime, I have included "before" and "after" pictures above.
Pictured in this entry are school children/map makers standing in front of their finished project. The map is painted onto the east wall of the playground patio. The map is framed by thumb prints of each child in the school.
In the next entry fortunate Pepino followers have a tantalizing view of a bodacious Mrs. Pepino gridding the map in preparation for tracing, then painting. If you can take your eyes from my wife for a moment you´ll see the gang of Deltoso´s, Meeker, Talea, and schoolmates painting the world. It was an international effort to be enjoyed by Durango students for years to come.

Globalmente,

Pepino Chiflado

Al Volver

I´m home (in Durango). I left Big Talea, Medium Ingrid, Travel-size Caroline, and Little Talea in San Miguel´s opulent Quinto Loreto Hotel at 11:00 a.m. and arrived in Durango in the wee hours of this morning (1:30 a.m.). I changed busses in Queréto. Lucky move, as Querétero´s bus depot is bigger and newer than Leon´s, where we stopped on are way into San Miguel.
I sat on a couch, sipped a cold libation, and watched a soap opera while waiting the hour or so to catch the bus to Durango. This trip I was able to see a lot in daylight. Nothing more beautiful than crossing the Sierra Madre at sunset. The mountains to the east were on fire. As it was a national holiday (the revolution began on November 20, 1910) I saw a lot of small town celebrations along the road. The most impressive sight was watching cowboys gallop in from the foothills, apparently racing each other through the semi-desert brush.
Apparently the cold isn´t a regional thing. Getting off the bus I could see my breath, just like in San Miguel. Winter is here in the North Central, too. I wore a jacket to school today.
The girls will bus it in all night tonight. They should arrive in Durango by sun-up.
Nap time. Ol´Pepinos can´t take sleep deprivation like the little gurkens can.

Con sueño,
Pepino Dormilón

Is Anyone Out There?

Folks, have you any question, concerns, or problems that you need addressed on the Pepino Suave Blog of Love and Loss? Any queries regarding the Pepino Mexico experience that aren´t being treated yet? Please write, as lovely Ingrid doubts that anyone is reading this enchanting log of Pepino prose. Let´s prove her wrong.

Averiguando,

Pepino de Allende

San Miguel de Allende

It is cold. Sorry to offend our Michigan fan base (Aunt Nina tells us ya´ll got some six inches of snow the other day) but we are chilln´here in Mexico´s north-central. We arrived this morning after twelve hours and two buses of over-night traveling. Talea barfed just five minutes out of San Miguel de Allende. Got it all in her plastic bag. She is a great road warrior, that gal. Said she felt much better and moved on to the next adventure (a taxi into town).

We spent part of this evening with Aunt Talea and Carolina sipping vampiros and palomas and being seranaded by mariachis in the town plaza. Big Talea and Carolina are in town for a wedding. We are in town to visit them (see my previous entry, slackers). Little Talea is in heaven walking around town with her big cousin Caroline. They dashed off to the central plaza tonight to join local kids singing and generally being rowdy. The rest of the evening we spent looking for extra wraps. We are dressed for Durango desert weather. It is cold, need I repeat.

San Miguel in a few words: Mexico´s gift shop. Mean demographic: Middle aged expat Americans. End of story. Read the tour guide.
Going horse back riding tomorrow.

Hace frio,

Pepino Helado

PS A band across the street in a bar called¨Joe´s" is playing a cover of Stevie Wonder´s "Superstition". A group of Mariachi´s on the corner are singing "Llora". Culture clash.

Mis Zapatos

I like my shoes. I baby them. My two pair of school shoes, one black, the other brown, get a buff and/or shine every week. Even though there is a shoe shine man every 200 meters, I shine ém myself. It is an obsesion of mine.
Thing is, down here my dogs take quite a beating. I walk everywhere. The soles of my black pair had been worn almost right through. Ingrid took them to the shoe repair man across the street from our Oxxo yesterday. He had new soles put on for under ten bucks. I´m walking on sunshine.
That is all the news to report. Slow news day. In fact, besides my shoes, the most exciting thing today was eating lunch. Durango is a very quiet town.
The Pepino tribe is hitting the road tonight. We´ll be in San Miguel de Allende by sun up. Look for an entry or two from the road. Nos vemos.

Ándale,

Pepino Andaliego

Talea´s Gallery

Today I am including a picture from Talea´s portfolio. She took this picture of her parents at Xochimilco, a popular tourist destination and a trial lawyer´s dream near the capital (If you would like to read more about Xochimilco see my spellbinding October 7 entry). In the foreground are Talea´s headless parents and a headless bystander. In the background are the rafts we hired to float around a marshy canal.