Stranger Than Fiction, 32 (2012)

The high point of 2012 was my six weeks in Mexico.  Otherwise it was a fairly ordinary year with the usual challenges and the usual pleasures and joys.  There were conflicts as usual in my building.  Our housing provider is a group of evangelical Christians and they are generally fairly bigoted against LGBTQ people so I tend to have nothing to do with them outside of strict business.  They are otherwise good managers though they sometimes seem a bit challenged about keeping church and state separate around here. In July I left the tertiary care unit.  The place had come under new management and I was not comfortable with the changes: there was suddenly no money for taking clients out and their super-professionalism didn't always square with client needs.  My new supervisor became  particularly onerous bitch and I had to tell her that we cannot work together and left. 

This wasn't going to be an easy year financially.  Another one of my supervisors was going to be off for a year of maternity leave.  Her successor was a nightmare to work with and suddenly I was chronically underemployed eventually going down to zero hours in 2013.  I am now convinced that I was targeted with ageism and this seems not to have changed much since my supervisor returned from maternity leave.  At least she's nicer to work with.

Nothing else interesting happened so I will let selections from my travel journal do the rest of the talking:

February 17:
This is my second full day in Mexico City. It is going well so far.  I hiked around a lot probably between fifteen and eighteen miles in Condesa, Chapultepic and Polanca.  Most of what I saw was already familiar, except for the Gandhi monument near the Museum of Anthropology and Parque Lincoln and the avery there.  Today I wandered around Coyoacan, taking time to explore the labyrinth maze of streets on both sides of Francisco Soza.  The beggars I'm encountering here have me thinking a lot about poverty issues, how we view the economy, and how we have foolishly divorced the economy from the people.  Quite simply, no people no economy.  Not vice versa.  I still think of my father but he seems a bit like a distant memory sometimes, other times not so.  It is hard figuring out the best way of remembering a father who never loved me as a son, though I have long loved him as my father.  I would have liked to have seen him before he died.  I refuse to blame myself though I still want to.  I am alone.  My only extant family connection is with Lanis and she might be dead within a year or so from cancer and then I will have no one but God and my friends.  But this isn't such a horrible thing, rather, this drives me closer to the Lord, and I really see this as a threshold time in my life.  I feel that I connect better and more positively with others than ever now, but part of this I owe to my experience at work and my determination to learn to walk faithfully in God's love.  there is of course the risk of boredom on this trip or frustration with the way things don't go as planned or with the problems of traffic and people who just don't know how to behave in public, but these things are just as prevalent in Vancouver, though I have to admit that we have better transit etiquette and better drivers.  I don't much like eating in restaurants and already I miss cooking and eating my own cooking because I'm a damn good cook if I must say so myself.  But come April I will be home in Vancouver and this trip yet another fond and distant memory.

Feb. 18,

Feb 18, 2012

I think I'm going to start being a little more scarce during happy hour at the Red Tree House.  I find these people shallow and superficial and I don't think we have a lot in common, values or otherwise.  To be expected.  I still want to be on the alert for those I can connect with but I also need to respect my own needs for privacy and solitude.  Simply put, these people don't know Jesus, they do not have Christian values.  To be expected. And as I just wrote to Enrique, they are good people all the same and God loves all.   Because God is love. I had a very disturbing dream last night about my father, then one about my brother.  I can't remember the details but I was watching someone, my brother but not Rick writing something unkind about him so I rebuked him about it.  Then I felt a presence ambush me from behind and realized it was my father smiling and embracing me, but it was frightening and creepy for me and I woke up immediately.   Then when I finally got back to sleep more than an hour later I had a dream about rick and he was telling me that he and I have to start getting over our differences and rise above the threshold of our mutual enmity and try to become friends again. This is all in God's time of course.  Any time he wants to contact me all he has to do is phone or do one really quick Google Search.  But forgiveness is the key word here, eh? Thank you Lord Jesus

I spent most of the day in Coyoacan, that lovely town in the south of Mexico City.  This time I wandered as many streets as possible, not exactly getting lost because I was able to find my way back while exploring narrow cobblestoned alleys flanked by multicoloured colonial homes festooned with bougainvillea and other flowering vines.  I stopped in a couple of bookstore cafes where I was reading a Spanish translation of Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray.  For those of you who don't know this book it is a nineteenth century classic about a young man whose portrait ages while he remains young and untouched by the years until his untimely death.  I think I walked about ten miles today, or a bit more.  It is interesting, the variety of establishments here.  The first place I stopped in is named after Octavio Paz, a famous Mexican author.  It is primarily a large bookstore with a security guard at the front entrance.  I had to check my bag in a locker and he put red tape on my book so it would be easily identified.  Later on Francisco Sosa I stopped in an elegant courtyard cafe.  I asked them to seat me as far from the smokers as possible, explaining to him in Spanish that in Canada we are a little bit spoiled when it comes to cigarettes and smoke. I didn't bother to bore him about the many people Ive known and taken care of who have died from lung cancer and I won't mention my late mother here, though it looks like I have anyway.  The coffee was great, decaf, and overhead was a spray of magenta bougainvillea with a small yellow warbler darting among the flowers and leaves.  When I eventually made it to the Zocalo I stopped inside the magnificent Baroque church.  There were several tourists present taking photographs of the windows and architectural details.  Behind the church I had dinner, a pasta dish at Cafe Mucca, a small place with painted tables and chairs.  I have mentioned it in previous missives, I believe.  Then I walked back to the metro station in San Angel, along Francisco Sosa where I stopped in the mansion where Octavio Paz died. It is now a museum with a sprawling interior courtyard that must cover more than an acre, beautifully landscaped with gardens and walkways. While I was doing this walk it occurred to me that the reason I love to explore unknown streets is that it is therapeutic.  I believe that in doing so I am strengthening neurons in my brain and that it is rather like doing a crossword puzzle but more interactive because of the physical act of walking. I passed more beggars, of course.  Indigenous families with small children.  Yes, the poor we will always have with us.  I am thinking of one of Bill Clinton's more moronic quotes: It's the economy stupid.  Well, I have a question that I would like to pose to all of you. Is it possible to conceive of the economy as being the people and not the money they make or spend?  I am asking this for a reason.  Primarily I think that if we valued one another more as human beings and not as means to an end, perhaps we wouldn't be so worried about money.  People matter more than money and I think if we come to realize and believe this more then we could become the beginning of some of the real change that is needed in our world.  But knowing most of you as well as I do of course I am preaching to the choir here. The ride back on the Metro was very slow with lengthy pauses between stations and it became very packed with people.  I think that people in Mexico City could learn a bit from us in Vancouver about courtesy on public transit, but I'm sure there are things they could also teach us. All for now.   webborn" <annwebborn@gmail.com> Received: Tuesday, February 28, 2012, 6:53 PM I visited Cuernavaca today which is a city of one million near Mexico City and the capital of Morelos state.  It has a reputation for being very beautiful with a lovely climate and a haven for wealthy Mexicans but I saw nothing and no one who appeared remotely well off and the weather, for me anyway, was hot.  Of course Cuernavaca could have some very beautiful and prestigious neighborhoods that I didn't have a chance to see since I was there for less than three hours.  It's just like Vancouver, in the sense that it is famous for it's beaches, and forests and mountains but if you never leave the Downtown Eastside, or Kingsway, or South Van or Marpole you're going to find Vancouver violent, poor, rundown, ugly, or just uninteresting.  Or if you never leave Main and Forty ninth you're going to imagine it is a city full of South Asians.  Or if you never leave other parts of South Van or Richmond you will almost think you are in China.  If you never leave Commercial Drive you'll assume that everyone in Vancouver wears dreadlocks and smokes pot. What really stood out to me about Cuernavaca was the shabbiness that I have seen also in many areas of Mexico City.  The same street corner food and taco and magazine stands, the same poverty.  But I did catch glimpses from the bus window of a wealthier and lovelier Cuernavaca.  In the Zocalo I noticed a phalanx of at least forty or more armed police with riot gear huddled in front of a government building.  I asked an elderly man what it was about and he replied that this is the government's way of putting its fingers in its ears so that the people don't get heard.  We had quite an interesting chat.  Jose lives now in the southern US and comes back to Cuernavaca for long visits.  He is very concerned about the state of his country, the lack of any just distribution of wealth and appears to have a healthy cynicism about governments in general.  He also helped me find my way back to the bus station, where I chatted briefly with a man who asked me if I'm from Brazil.  This made me laugh, and I mentioned to him that a lot of people have told me that I speak Spanish with a Portuguese accent! The bus ride to and from Cuernavaca was lovely.  The forested mountains remind me a lot of BC, only a bit dryer and warmer.  There were a lot of vendors on the metro subway, at least eight on one train I was on, including a seven year old girl wearing a school uniform. The more time I spend among the people here, no matter how annoying I find them in some ways, the greater my respect and admiration for the Mexican people.   On Fri, Mar 16, 2012 at 5:53 PM, Aaron Zacharias <pajarohermoso@yahoo.ca> wrote: Today has been going a lot better.  They have put me in a quieter and darker room.  Only thing is the local roosters wake up and crow as early as 3 am, so earplugs are back in vogue.  I had a sumptuous but pricy breakfast in the hotel dining room, around 15 dollars canadian including tip so I will not be paying for any guided tours on this trip and I´m sure the greedy hotel manager will get over it.  I went walking as far as I could this morning till a cab driver offered me a lift taking me to the Huitepec cloud forest reserve just less than 3 miles outside of town.  It was great, but what a climb.  I´ve never done, and probably never will, do the Grouse Grind, but this must be something similar.  I was all alone in the forest for two hours except for two Swedes and a Canadian I encountered from time to time.  I took the combi back into town, which is a van converted into a shuttle bus and very crowded.  I wandered again through the town and climbed nearly a hundred steps to get into a beautiful white and gold church on top of the hill.  The interior is very beautiful but with a couple of bizarre touches.  Over and behind the high altar are three concentric neon squares, and yes I said neon, in red green and white surrounding an image of the Virgin of Guadelupe whom as some of you know is an image of the Virgin Mary as she appeared to the indigenous people of Mexico in the sixteenth century.  In a chapel off to the side of the church dedicated to the Virgin were keeling an indigenous family and the woman was lamenting loudly in her prayers to the Virgin.  Outside on the steps I stopped to chat in Spanish with an elderly man who had been struggling up the steps with the help of his cane.  He offered me a warm welcome to San Cristobal.  A bit earlier in a tea house a two year old child came over to say hi to me and seemed really fascinated by the peacock feather I use as a book mark.  Back on the hundred steps leading up to the church I sat on a bench on the way down.  Then as Isaw an older couple appearing quite winded as they were struggling up the steps I invited them to sit with me.  they are from Vera Cruz and very affable and engaging.  They seemed intrigued that I am single and without children and that I am an anglican but the whole tone of the visit was very warm and friendly.  I stopped in a cafe and had two cheese croissants and a cup of hot chocolate for dinner, since at breakfast here at the hotel they fed me a salad with my omelette as well as a huge fruit salad so today I am eating in reverse.  I´m enjoying getting to know and exploring this town as well as meeting different and interesting people. Well this is a first for me.  I passed out in the hotel restaurant today.  I woke up with Montezuma´s Revenge and after I came back from a walk things went from bad to worse.  Of course I had no appetite but I thought a small plate of fruit salad and yogurt would help.  I could finish only half of it and then I knew I was going to pass out.   I managed to struggle my way to the server to pay then on my way back to my table to get my things I fainted and next thing I knew I was looking up at all these very worried looking people.  They were worried that I hit my head but I was okay and I told them how nice it felt to lie down and I hoped they wouldn´t have to move me anytime soon.  One woman, a hotel guest I think, gave me on her fingers some hand sanitizer to use as smelling salts and it worked.  A man was putting a bottle of water to my lips.  I was actually surprised how calm I felt and even humorous and under the circumstances how good my Spanish was.  A couple of Red Cross paramedics were called in and they checked all my vital signs and found me okay.  They checked my blood sugar and I was relieved to learn that I so far don´t have diabetes.  They quickly found the culprit. Because of the diarrhea and all the water I had been drinking I had flushed out all my electrolytes.  This is why I passed out.  They gave me three packages of electrolyte crystals to dissolve into water and take over the next couple of days.  So I took a cab to the Red Cross clinic to get antibiotics.  There was a wait in line before the nurse could see me but I endured it okay and the doctor was very friendly and kind  as were the cab drivers who drove me there and back.  Fortunately I took out medical Insurance before I went on this trip so this episode hasn´t cost me anything.  I spent nearly four hours resting in my room and sipping on electrolytes.  They taste kind of weird but they seem to be doing the trick. Slowly I´m coming around but I´m taking it easy tomorrow before I go to Palenque Wednesday.  this is not a clean city and there is dogshit everywhere on the pavement and of course street food, salsas, and cheap restaurant food as well as fruits and vegetables that haven´t been pealed are verboten.  Two of the restaurant staff just came over to see how I´m doing.  I think this may be my last trip to Mexico for a while and really I´m feeling a bit anxious about returning home which occurs in thirteen days.  Count ém, thirteen, less than two weeks.  I really hope I don´t get bitten again by the travel bug any time soon. I´ll just bite back if it happens and  maybe even punch it´s lights out.  I´´m not negating any of the great value I have received while on this trip, as I´m sure many of you have seen in my postings but I would like to get home alive.  Just in case anything untoward happens I am forwarding to all of you in this e-mail the contact information for this hotel and for the Red Tree House.        Mar 22, 2012 I finally made it to the archeological site.  It is astounding.  It is said to be a modest sized sight compared to Tikal and some in Yucatan but to me it is huge.  Access to the biggest pyramid is closed right now but there are others with punishingly steep stairs and in most cases I declined from climbing them because I´m still recovering from my health issues Monday though I am feeling better.  The palace, which has a four storey tower (no access) has many chambers and interior galleries that I explored, all the inner rooms have the same triangular vaulted roof.  It is very cool inside since everything here is made of stone and one immediately sees the wisdom of building with stone in the hot tropics.  There is wide open grassy space everywhere making walking and strolling pleasant.  It is hard to imagine how the people lived here well over a thousand years ago but they did.  It also staggers the imagination to think what it would be like to meet someone from that era and place.  Given that the Maya were a rigidly hierarchical society ruled by a powerful priesthood that practiced human sacrifice and had an amazingly detailed knowledge of astronomy and astrology and where no one was valued as an individual but only for the role they played in society, one can scarcely imagine what we would talk about. The site extends into the jungle where structures are still being excavated.  The tropical forest here is lush, dense, tangled, steamy and fragrant and there are some paths that go in among the trees.  Tomorrow I am returning for another look and also for a guided tour through the surrounding jungle.  Apparently no one is allowed to venture there solo because of the danger of getting lost.  It still is hot here and humid but not as bad as yesterday. Outside of the gates of the site there are of course a lot of vendours, many of them quite aggresive.  I walked down to the museum which is about a kilometre away because there is a cafe and I wanted to sit somewhere for a cold drink.  However by the time I arrived I realized I was too tired to return to the site after more than two hours of wandering among the ruins so I took a cab back into town. The town Palenque according to one of my drivers has a population of around thirty-seven thousand people, most of whom are descendants of the Maya, so although they are all thoroughly Mexicanized and intermarried the tradition or at least the bloodline still goes on. Following a rest in my hotel room I went out to explore the town of Palenque a bit.  It doesn´t have really a lot to commend itself and it is pretty clear from all the hotels and the presence of tourists that the Mayan ruins have made this place very much a one industry town.  I took a walk out past the city limits and walked among farms and chickens then back to the main square where they have set up a dj in the middle playing music and around forty easels and canvases for children and young people to paint. Once again, on my first full day, someone approached me to ask me if he could shine my shoes and once again I had to explain that because they are runners made of fabric they cannot be shined.  This is exactly what happened on my first day in San Cristobal and in Mexico City.  What is going on here? I have found a very reasonable internet cafe not too far from my hotel where I am paying less than half what I would at the hotel. I´m not having a lot of luck finding a restaurant that accommodates vegetarians.  The hotel restaurant I dined in last night has only one meatless option on the menu, a rather insipid spaghetti, but I´m here for only two more nights so I think I can make the best of it.  Travel is hard on vegetarians because not a lot of places are able or willing to accommodate our dietary needs. I´ve fortunately done okay in San Cristrobal and in Mexico City.  My other complaint about Mexico is the water is undrinkable. Today on my way to the internet cafe I walked by a small pharmacy where the pharmacist was announcing his services over a loud speaker with salsa music accompaniment.  Only in Mexico. I did have one small accident while climbing the steps to the town square.  I tripped and fell and slightly twisted my ankle but I landed okay and there is now nothing wrong with my ankle.  I really have to walk carefully in these places because as I have mentioned in the past the pavement is often uneven and I am easily distracted by all the novel sights around me.