Love Letter to San Agustín

The daily marketplace - photo credit: El Morro de las fotos

Dear San Agustín,

How can I find the words to thank you for all you've been to me, to us, these past eight months? When I first found out I was going to be placed in San Agustín, Hidalgo, I was a little confounded. I immediately looked you up on the map to find that you barely existed there. I discovered a few photos, and you looked...cute, but very small, and very rural. So I visited you on Google Earth, and with Jon, roamed along your streets to see...yes, a very small and quiet town - clean though, and rather colorful - with a sweet little plaza in the middle and a very pretty church. 

Tianguis day

Nothing could have prepared us for the reality of how lovely you were. That first week we were staying at a small house on the university campus so we had to come to you to get supplies by walking that mile and a half, or taking the Combi. The first day we visited, we were pleased to find that you offered plenty of shops and one or two small grocery stores where we could get what we needed. The second time we came, we were met with an explosion of activity and color in the form of your Sunday street market - or tianguis. This was probably the first moment we fell in love with you. Everything was so fascinating, so alive - the people so friendly. 

The walk to school

Then, after we spent a couple of weeks in the misery that was nearby Mixquiahuala, we definitely realized how special you were and how important it was going to be to find a house within your environs and not in one of the other towns 20 or so minutes away that were, honestly, not so special. We were lucky to find our little house right near your town center, though it needed a lot of TLC, furniture, dishes and such, and our own artwork - all of it a labor of love. And all the while, we were exploring what you had to offer, feeling more and more grateful to know you. 

We were also surprised to learn, both through experience and word of mouth, that you are a progressive place, an open-minded community that is accepting of all. We wondered why such would be the case in this out-of-the-way rural town until we were told that you are a community of teachers. It makes sense with the nearby university, but, I mean, generations of teachers  - because the university was once a college that taught teachers. This is why your people have a fairly high education level in general, and why one finds so many deep thinkers here. This fact was made all the more clear to me one day when I witnessed a solemn parade of hundreds of middle-aged to older people, walking through the streets all dressed in white shirts and navy slacks or skirts. People on the sidewalk stood in deference as they passed. I asked who they were and someone told me they were retired teachers. To see so many teachers, respectful and respected, honored in that way, drove it all home: this place is different. 

The original university building.
The flag represents its name: El Mexe, which
means spider in hñahñu.

As I walk around your streets now, I'm just trying to soak you in so that I never forget anything. 

Every smell: ripe mangos, tortillas on the grill, freshly baked pastries, corn stalks burning, dust, lavender, clean meat markets, chicken roasting, tacos and gorditas and chicharrones.

Every sound: music coming from everywhere, dogs barking, vendors hawking, birds chirping, cars and machinery, construction, chatter, and thunder.

Every sight: the humble buildings, the tents of the tianguis, the colorful fruits and vegetables, the shining clean, new indoor marketplace, smiles, old faces, young faces, the modern and traditional builings of the university, trees (mesquite, palm, pine, cypress, jacaranda), fields, corn, sunflowers, alfalfa, lavender, cactus, hills, and sky.

Sprouting corn in the field

Every taste:

Candies made with the natural sugar piloncillo; all the fruits, roasted plantains, fresh gorditas, tacos al Pastor, chilaquiles, enchiladas with salsa verde, freshly squeezed orange juice, the excellent steak or caesar salad from the only fancy restaurant in town, and the very best food in the world: a fresh, hot corn tortilla right off the grill. 

Every person that I've come to love: each dear friend, the families who've treated us like their own, the little man with the wide smile who sells nopales, the lovely Beni who sells meat, sweet Rosalba who sells nuts, Imelda the chatty salon lady, the kind women who make and sell tortillas, Doña Aurelia who cleans our house with such care, the people at the pharmacy and in the shops, Lorena with her little health food store, the Combi drivers, the lady who sells eggs, the gentleman and his family who sell sweets, the señor cleaning the town square who greets us every morning, the orange juice guy who taught us our first word of hñahñu, the teachers and students, and so many more. 

Wall of flowers

I will miss you beyond words, but it doesn't have to be forever. We'd like to have a place to come back to if it's possible to arrange that, and in which to welcome friends who want to visit as well. At the very least, you offer a nice, clean little hotel. The point is, you are such a wonderful place from which to strike out and see some of the marvels Hidalgo has to offer: the archeological site of Tula, the town of Actópan with its beautiful monastery, the Grutas of Tolantongo, the nearby mural town of Morelos, three of your state's Magical Pueblos, and much more. I hope that people also come just to see and experience you. But I hope they don't come with the attitudes of the typical tourist, or disrespect you in any way. You are not a resort town, where people order around the help (though they shouldn't) or expect the locals to conform to their foreign ways (which is obnoxious). You deserve the ultimate deference and respect. You are fragile. You must be preserved so that the people of your community don't have to adapt to the outside world. It's our job to adapt to you. 

Beautiful, sweet, vibrant San Agustín - please never change. You are all you need to be. 

I love you with all my heart. 

Painting of Frida and Diego on a tree. 

Travel Fever Part 1

Pachuca, Hidalgo

Just a few days after I posted my last entry, one of our dear friends, Teresa, who lives in New York, came all the way to this far-flung place to visit and experience a little of what life is like for me and Jon here. She flew into Mexico City on a Saturday and explored much of what that metropolis has to offer. She then came to Tepatepec by bus on Wednesday. Jon met her at the bus stop and gave her a little tour, and then they came to the University to meet me and join in our Hñahñu language class (the indigenous language of this region). After that, we met my friend Arlo at the best taco place in San Agustín. 

Let me just say, Teresa got it right away, and when I say IT, I mean the enchantment of this place. It's crazy how this little, slightly scruffy town gets under your skin so fast. You feel it - and she felt it - the kindness of people, their devotion to the community, and the charm of a slower, yet still vibrant, pace. It drew her right in: the food, the smells, the sounds, the air, very quality of the light. There's no denying the special-ness of it. She even loved our slightly funky house, to which we've added our own touches of art and comfort. 

Tacos with Teresa

The next day, Thursday, we wasted no time but got right to adventuring. We set off at about 9:00 a.m. on the local Combi to the next town over, where we grabbed a bus to the larger town, about an hour away, of Ixmiquilpan. (I dare you to pronounce that!) Our final destination was the Grutas (grottos) de Tolantongo, an hour farther. We were not very confident of how to go and which buses to take, but a lady who just happened to start out with us in Tepa guided us all the way to Ixmiquilpan, and there, negotiated a taxi to take us to the Grutas. She was an angel sent from heaven if there ever was one. 

Desert Vista on the Road to Tolantongo

That drive from Ixmiquilpan to Tolantongo was intense. The road steadily ascends until it finally begins to descend into a deep valley, surrounded by desert-clad hills that jut up into the sky. One steep hair-pin turn after another finally leads you to the valley floor through which an opaque turquoise river rushes. These are the Grutas of Tolantongo, one of only two naturally occurring hot-water rivers in the world. The other is in South Korea. The area has been developed into a kind of spa resort, that is if you like your resorts really rustic. You pay a small fee to enter, then have to buy towels and water shoes if you don't have them, and you are required to store your stuff in a locker if you want to access certain areas of the park. After stashing all but the bathing suits we were wearing and our hats, watershoes, sunglasses, phones (for taking pictures) and towels, we climbed a steep set of stairs to discover that you actually couldn't bring anything into what they call The Cave, except for your bathing suit and water shoes. The towels, hats, sunglasses and phones we left precariously on a fence with everyone else's. Then we waded into a stream of perfectly hot water - probably exactly body temperature - then under a cold waterfall, and into a lake within a soaring cave to bask in the gorgeous blue liquid. Sure, there were plenty of other people there but we didn't care it was such an exquisite experience. We swam and floated in The Cave for a while, then decided to check out The Tunnel up another flight of stairs. That turned out to be a big NO for the claustrophobic afflicted, including me and Teresa, because the pitch black tunnel, with a shallow river that flowed through it, went who knows where. Yeah, I don't think so. 

After more frolicking in The Cave, we were able to retrieve our stuff, and ventured down, down, down, to The River. Hopefully, my photos do it justice though there's no way to describe the beautiful experience of being immersed in that mineralized warm water where you could just float your cares away for hours. Don't get me wrong, the current was strong and so was the sun, but I found a shady pool to relax in, Teresa found a sun-soaked rock to bask against, and Jon secured himself against a sand bar and let the current wash over him like a jacuzzi jet. There were no other people in our section of the river, so we just swam and soaked and felt completely renewed. Finally, it was time to get something to eat, and after that we headed back, first on a bus and then by taxi, to Tepa - about two and a half hours in all. This was one of the best adventures Jon and I have had so far, and as you know, we've had many. And, it was great to get to have it with Teresa. 

Stock photo from web. These are the "Pozos"
at Tolantongo.
They are man-made so we didn't bother.

Friday was a chill-out-in-San Agustín day, with a lovely dinner at home. Saturday we went to the archeological site of Tula, which, honestly, we can't get enough of. However, since I've posted about it here twice already, all I'll add is that Teresa's presence brought out the wacky in us all. We agreed, for example, that since the Toltecs were big on adorning their structures with gems, they must have certainly have been among the first bedazzlers (maybe you had to be there to get it). 

That night we celebrated Teresa's 3-month-belated birthday at our favorite (and the only) fine restaurant in San Agustín, with the owner joining us for appetizers and drinks. We were sad for Teresa to go the next morning because the visit had been too short. Still, not too short for her to fall in love with this corner of Hidalgo, as we most certainly have. It's inevitable. 

The following weekend we attended the baptism service, and then later the party, of Anna's baby boy. These baptism parties are absolute blowouts. There were 350 people in attendance and more food than any sane person should eat. We sat at a table with a lively family that insisted we eat everything placed on the table, which included, mushroom and spinach quesadillas; chicken mole (moh-lay) with tortillas; Mexican rice; some weird soup with something that looked like veins in it; and carnitas (seasoned and chopped pork) with more tortillas. By that point, we were full beyond imagining. But then Anna's mom came around to ask if we were ready for the barbacoa - the main offering of the evening. Barbacoa, as you might recall, is the roasted sheep they cook in a pit. There's no refusing it because it's the most revered dish in this region. And so along came the barbacoa - with yet more tortillas - and we stuffed it down. I might add there was nary a vegetable in sight if you don't count the spinach in the quesadillas and the peas in the rice. Would it kill someone to throw an avocado our way? Anyway, then the band started up and everybody danced - lots of people drank to excess - and finally, the cake was served and we departed at about 9:00 p.m. As we left, Anna's husband informed us that the party would probably go on until 3:00 a.m. It had started at 3:00 p.m. 

Las Prismas Balsaticas - 
photo by Jon Ellis

I'll end this post with a little about the trip we took this past weekend to another of the Magical Towns, Huasca de Ocampo. It's about 2 hours from San Agustín, in the mountains, surrounded by forest. It was one of those original mining towns, made almost entirely from stone - very pretty - and lots of fun. In fact, speaking of parties, I'd say it was definitely a party town, people out on the streets eating and drinking at all hours. We went with Rico, my school coordinator, his wife, and young son, so partying wasn't really our goal. We had "brunch" at one of the outdoor food stands when we first got there, then headed to a kind of national park nearby where we saw the Prismas Balsaticas - amazing rock formations over which waterfalls tumble majestically. 

We climbed and hiked and chilled out there for a while, then went back into town, where Jon and I checked into our hotel, with a plan to stay the night. After a rest, we met Rico and his family and ate again, lounging over beers and chatting amiably, enjoying the outdoor atmosphere. They then went home to Pachuca  - about an hour away - and we wandered the town some more. We left the next morning after an amazing breakfast at one of the many sidewalk cafes. 

Street Scene, Huasca de Ocampo -
Photo by Jon Ellis

Breakfast in Huasca

That catches you up for now. Next weekend we're off to the state of Veracruz so stay tuned!

Here's a slo-mo vid of me walking through a waterfall at the Prismas. I had the umbrella for the sun but it came in handy here. 

The Clumsy American

In the newly renovated daily marketplace in S.A.

Valentine's Day tulips

In spite of the fact that I feel completely included and accepted here, I have been known to commit certain faux pas that simply go along with living in a different culture. No matter how prepared you are when you visit a foreign country, or how much you think you know about it, there are always cultural differences that lie under the surface of which you might not be aware. The first time I made an embarrassing cultural mistake was just three days into my visit here. It was the day we were leaving Mexico City and traveling to Hidalgo. Lina, one of the teachers at the school, had come to pick us up. After we met, she introduced me to a fellow named Alberto. Not knowing who he was or what his relationship was to her, I asked if he was the driver, perhaps making an assumption about class. They laughed uncomfortably, and informed me that, no, he was one of the teachers at the school, who had come along to navigate while she, in fact, drove. I'm sure I turned a bright shade of red, and thought I would never live it down, but, after that, every time I saw him, he'd refer to himself jokingly as my chauffeur. We laugh about it to this day. 

Not long after we moved into our house, I was wanting the windows washed. I'd do it myself, but they are impossible to reach from the outside. I thought maybe a cleaning person would have the equipment to do the job, but where to find one? One day, a lady came to visit my neighbor, a person dressed, in my mind, for heavy work, and I asked if she was the cleaner. She nicely informed me that she was not. I skulked away, wishing I would learn to keep my mouth shut.

Then there's the matter of what to bring when someone has a party: food? No, that might insult the cook. Wine? Maybe, but what if they don't drink? We know plenty of people here who don't. Flowers? Maybe. But what if it's a child's party? We were invited to one not long ago, and I brought as a gift this cute water bottle shaped like a donut in shades of pink and purple - for a little girl, right? We get to the party to find that this sweet child is obsessed with some hideous blue monster that's on some cartoon or other, and there was nothing pink in sight. I will never know if she liked the gift because she didn't open it then and there. In fact, we left before the cake was served, which was probably an offense, but, once we were making our good-byes, it was too late to turn back. 

Another party - in the front patio with neighbors

One of the clumsiest moments I've had was when Cristina took us to the archeological site in Tula. Afterward, we went to eat in a fairly nice restaurant. There were about eight of us in the group, and I thought that it would be nice for Jon and I to pay, partly just to avoid figuring out the bill but also because they had driven us all that way and showed us all around Tula, and I wanted to pay them back for their kindness. So I went to the waitress and handed her a card, letting her know I wanted to pick up the tab. When Cristina asked for the bill and the waitress said it had been handled, Cristina's face took on an expression of absolute shock. When I told her I'd paid, she was speechless, but not with gratitude. She was angry - trying hard to contain it - but genuinely angry. I couldn't understand her reaction at all. Finally, once she calmed down, she and the others explained that when a Mexican person invites you to eat, they pay. Period. We were their guests, and it was insulting that we paid. It was almost like flaunting our wealth (which of course we don't exactly possess). We talked it out and I apologized profusely and then we were able to laugh about it, but I learned a big lesson that day in Mexican etiquette. 

Jon and I are learning the indigenous
language of this area, Hñahñu,
in this weekly class

Finally, though this is hardly the last gaff I've committed or probably will commit, my school coordinator, Rico, had been wanting to take us to one of the towns that Mexico has designated as magical, Real del Monte. However, between his schedule and ours, we could never settle on a date. Finally, on one of my days off, Jon and I decided to just go. Who knew when we'd be able to coordinate with Rico? And so we went. Later that very day, I got a text from him: "Shall we go to Real del Monte tomorrow?" With great embarrassment and amid profuse apologies, I texted him to let him know we'd gone that morning. I don't think he was all too pleased, but he's learned to forgive my awkward ways, or at least I think he has because he's always so very kind to me. 

Some of the students in my English Workshop
working on a map of the world. 

Otherwise, life has been calm these past few weeks. We bought a couple of old bikes and have been riding them around the town, usually late in the afternoon when it's cool. Something about it reminds me of kayaking because, if you take the back roads and head out into the countryside, the wind is in your hair and the setting sun is caressing your face; you feel free, at one with nature. We ride past corn and alfalfa fields, and houses in various phases of construction. The grey/blue hills rise in the distance and you think to yourself, "this is Mexico." Unlike what you hear on the news, so serene, and so very safe. We've been musing on what it would take to own a place here, maybe even the place we're living in now, but that will require a lot of negotiation and figuring out of things that we may not have the means or wherewithal to do. I'm not talking about not returning to the states - just maybe having a way to come back to this place that is such an unlikely getaway destination. Yet we're so completely in love with it, how do we say good-bye forever? I'm not going to think about that now. Maybe I'll just focus on behaving correctly, as much as I possibly can.

This is a video of a Valentine's Day party for the teachers. We chose names out of a hat to exchange gifts, and enjoyed food from a local restaurant. Listen, and you'll hear one of the teachers beautifully singing Rihanna's "Love on the Brain."

Amor, Paz, y Abundancia

As I write on this thundery, rainy New Year's Eve 2022 in San Agustín, I wish you all love, peace, and abundance. Here, we are a little sad because Nacha, the Pug who lived in our patio, has passed away. She got out the front gate yesterday and was hit by a truck. And though she didn't die, her injuries were very serious, so our neighbors decided to put her down. Poor Pompón, the Akita, will be very lonely.

In spite of this bit of sadness, Jon and I have had a wonderful holiday. My mother Pat, my sister Susan, John, my brother-in-law, and his sister Carol came all the way to this far-flung area of Mexico to spend Christmas with us. It's not necessarily an easy trip for a ninety-year-old lady and a man with some physical challenges, but they braved the three-hour flight and two-hour drive, and arrived unscathed. In fact, they were up for adventure. The first to confront them, about two hours after their arrival, was our downstairs toilet flooding. This situation was not confined to the bathroom, but came oozing out into the living room and kitchen, and was only kept from spreading farther by our using every towel available to sop it up. Keep in mind, this was Friday, December 23rd. We frantically called around for a plumber, Jon and I dreading the idea of having to spend the Christmas weekend without the use of our toilets - or any water in the house - and of having the family visit ruined. Eventually, the plumber showed up and discovered that the blockage was not accessible from the toilet. Instead, he had to dig up the cement in the front patio to find the culprit, exposing raw sewage. Oh boy. I had sent Susan, John, and Carol to their hotel to check in and get away from the stench, but Mom was staying with us, weathering it all with good grace. The plumber had found the problem and fixed it by the time we returned from dinner out. Thank god our fears had come to naught. We spent that night without the use of the downstairs bathroom, which was okay, and with a stench in the front yard, but the next morning it was all fixed. I scrubbed the entire house just for good measure and we got on with our Christmas celebrations.

On the 24th, we took the gang out into the marketplace to experience the crazy wonder of the swarm of people doing their last-minute food shopping for the holiday. Carol, John, and Susan did some exploring of their own around town, impressed, I was happy to hear, by the quaint charm of our sweet little town. For dinner, we had tamales from my friend Anna, and taquitos that I bought in the marketplace. Susan read her traditional Christmas story after dinner - this year, it was The Legend of the Poinsettia, a beautiful Mexican tale - and we felt as cozy and contented as could be. 

Now, I have to back up and relate the story of the tamales, which we acquired on a very special day: that of the Festival de la Gordita here in San Agustín. The festival has been an annual tradition for six years, though it was paused for two because of the pandemic. Arlo was one of the festival's main organizers and pulled it off with great success. Gordita, which means "little fatty," is the name of a food that consists of an oblong, thick corn tortilla, split in half and stuffed with all varieties of fillings. In San Agustín, they are famous for panza de res, which is beef belly, making the gorditas de panza de res a local delicacy. At the festival, which took place on December 17th,  vendors sold gorditas of all kinds, those of panza de res being the most popular. For the festival, the whole center of town was converted into an outdoor food fair with two blocks of tables and chairs set up so folks could dine in comfort, plus many blocks more of artisans selling foods and crafts from all over, and tables set up by the local merchants, lining the streets. (In this video promoting the Festival, Anna sings https://youtu.be/FmIy3XBeC6w. I hope you'll take a look - just skip the preliminary ad.)

There was a main stage where musical acts and folklore dance groups performed, and another where a puppet troupe performed throughout the day. Jon and I feasted on the gorditas in the morning, and caught some wonderful dance performances in the afternoon. We bought some artisanal chocolates, coffee, and non-artisanal sunglasses for me. We socialized with many friends we ran into, and then, at seven that evening, headed to Anna's neighborhood for a posada.

The Pilgrims

The Posada is a Mexican tradition wherein families welcome "pilgrims" from the neighborhood, who come representing the holy family looking for shelter. The family inside the house sings a kind of call and response with the pilgrims, refusing them shelter, until the pilgrims convince them to let them in. They come in bearing figures of the holy family, and place them in the nativity. Then there's more singing and a short service, followed by...tamales!!! The host family gifts tamales, sweets, and ponche (punch) to all their guests and a party ensues. We left there laden with extra tamales, most of chicken, some of chocolate! We promptly put them in the freezer to save til Christmas Eve because my family has had the tradition of eating tamales and other Mexican foods every Christmas Eve, having adopted the tradition from living in Tucson for so many years. 

To return to Christmas day: the family gathered at our house for a breakfast of homemade blueberry coffee cake, bacon, and eggs, then we exchanged little gifts. This year, of course, our gifts were each other, but Jon and I received organic chocolates which we'd been sorely missing, and gifted soaps and lotions to the others from Anna's shop of natural products. Though Christmas was on Sunday, the tianguis, or street market, was in full swing and I was thrilled to be able to share with my family one of my favorite weekly events. 

On Monday, we toured my university - kind of. Jon, Carol, and Susan walked the mile and a half there, but Mom, John, and I, for lack of a taxi, ended up taking a combi - as you recall, the little vans that make up a network of local transportation. As we could see the university from the road, we told the driver we were going to stay on and ride with him on his route. This took us up into the hills behind Tepa, through farmland with chickens and sheep, on dirt roads, and into an even more "real" Mexico than Tepa, which is about as real as you can get. The driver became our tour guide, pointing out interesting things, and when we got back to town, only charged us the price of a round-trip ride to the Uni and back - though I gave him a little extra for his kindness. That evening, Carlos and his boyfriend joined us for dinner: pastes from the local shop that makes them extra spicey.

Tuesday morning we had a brunch for Anna and her family here at the house, then in the afternoon, went to Actopan for a stroll, to see the beautiful convent, and to have a nice dinner out.

Convent in Actopan

Ceiling of the basilica in Actopan

Wednesday was my family's last full day here. Anna's mom had told us how to rent our own personal combi to take us to the archeological site of Tula (see previous post for more images), a comfortable and easy trip for everyone. While Susan and Carol clambered up the pyramid, I walked with mom, taking our time, as it's about half a mile from the main building to the site on a dirt path. Doing the mile round trip was a challenge for her, but she accomplished it like the trooper she is. All were impacted by the historical significance and the beauty of the place. 

Thursday they left in that same rented combi, and Jon and I were left with our heads in a whirl. Other than that first day disaster, it couldn't have been a more wonderful visit. 

Friday we had a visit from one of my Fulbright comadres who spent the night and caught us up on all the happenings with our fellows in other areas of Mexico. I will see them all in a week when I travel to La Paz, Baja CA for our mid-term reunion. 

We've spent the evening quietly, watching movies and basking in thoughts of family, friends, and this amazing place. We can't wait to see what the New Year will bring. 

Fulfillment

Stairs in Real del Monte

I'm now able to talk about my literary project because it's finally coming to fruition. It's taken just about three months. I don't know what I expected, exactly, because it's kind of a complex project. My idea was to gather a group of women to do a writing workshop for the purposes of self-expression in Spanish. They would be able to write about anything or in any genre: memoir, poetry, stories, essays, novels, recipes, or anything that serves as a means of self-expression for them. I was hoping to attract women who have already delved into some form of writing as well as those who never have. I was willing to work with women remotely, in other parts of Mexico, but mostly I was hoping to work with them in person here in San Agustín. 

The Harvest, Tepatepec

Here are the problems that arose: Fulbright wanted me to do this project specifically here in the community, though they didn't make that clear until I arrived in Mexico. I had already connected with some artists I knew in Mexico, who put me in touch with writers quite distant from San Agustín, and soon after I arrived, we started working together by zoom. There are four of them, and they are all brilliant. So that part was good. But I could not, for the life of me, get women in this area interested. It is, after all. a very rural area, and writing just didn't seem to be a popular pastime for women who are working hard and raising children and more concerned with day-to-day life than with self-expression, and who can blame them? 

I call this the saint of LGTBQ+

And yet, a miracle occurred. After three months of my handing out flyers and sending them by text to local women I know, and talking to people all over town, including the teachers at the school, a small but fierce woman named Cristina made it happen for me. Cristina is a PhD in Chemistry who teaches at my university. I edited a research paper of hers that she'd translated into English, but that had been rejected because of the mistakes. So, I fixed them, and it was accepted. I considered this, at the time, part of my literary project because at least it was working on writing with a person in the community though the paper was extremely technical. Since then, I've edited two more for other professors. Anyway, I told her I was trying to get people interested in my workshop and she said she'd find them. Two months later I'd given up hope and was thinking of pivoting altogether to just doing English conversation groups, which was not really what I wanted, when she texted me that she had nine women ready to join the writing workshop. We met yesterday afternoon for the first time - ELEVEN highly motivated women, plus more who are planning to attend in the future. We had an amazing workshop, will meet one more time before Christmas, and then start again in the new year; and, since this is a university-sponsered workshop now, the participants will receive credit. To give you an idea of some of the projects the women have in mind: Cristina wants to write children's books about science, and the history of the region, in three languages: the indigenous Otomí, Spanish, and English. Another wants to do indigenous and family recipes in the same way, and some just want to spruce up their writing in preparation for their masters' theses. Others are not sure yet but I gave everyone a writing prompt to prepare for our next meeting to get them off and running. I am completely over the moon. This is what I've wanted from this fellowship from the beginning and it's happening! Oh, and get this, they want to call the group: "Precaución, mujeres escribiendo," which means, "Caution, women writing."  I LOVE IT!

17th Century Convent in Actopan

Another reason I'm feeling particularly fulfilled is that our house is finally getting to where we want it to be. We, along with our landlord, have done as many repairs as is reasonable for the time being, we've furnished and decorated it to our satisfaction, and it feels really comfortable and beautiful. Maybe we've spent a little more money on a house that we're only going to live in for nine months than we should have, but we always knew we'd probably have to do that. Finding a furnished place in this area is impossible and we began to see that before we came, though the dining set, sofa, and antique sewing machine were already in the house. It has been a kind of art project for us, especially since we've created actual art to put in it. Many of the things we've used to decorate are everyday objects we've picked up at the marketplace and put on the walls such as palm mats, blankets, ponchos, and dried chiles and herbs. One of my friends here said it looks like a Mexican grandmother's house, which made us laugh. 

Post Thanksgiving Gathering with Friends

I will admit the house is a little chilly because none of the houses here have heat. We have bought two small space heaters but they only go so far. It's also kind of echo-y and still has only one door, on one bathroom. The other bathroom and the bedrooms only have partitions to provide privacy. That said, if you are reading this and you are at all tempted to come and visit us in this magical part of Mexico, please come! We love to have visitors! You will have a comfy, but small, guest room, with some, but not total privacy (enough to get dressed without being observed at least). 

Painting on palm mat entitled: Time Machine

Below, and sprinkled throughout this post, you'll find photos of our house, which we hope will entice you, and also pictures of some cool places we've visited as of late such as the beautiful town of Actopan, the archeological site of Tula, and the actual Magical Town (that's an official designation) of Real del Monte. There's so much to see and do here, and so much to love. I feel very fulfilled in this place. I hope you will be too. 

Our house: 

Street in Real del Monte

Center plaza

18th Century Church

Monument to the miners

Coolest bathroom in the world

These figures represent great warriors

View from a distance - see the people on top for scale

Pyramid of the Sun

The site of many human sacrifices

Wall carvings

A dormant volcano, sacred to the Toltecs