Saw you in the Ojo
1
Saw you in the Ojo
3
D IRE C TOR Y
Index...
PUBLISHER David Tingen
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Victoria A Schmidt
EDITOR EMERITUS Alejandro Grattan-Dominguez
10 COVER STORY Carol Bowman delights us with her experience of day of the dead (Dia de los Muertos) in Patzcuaro, Mexico.
Tel: (01376) 765 3676, 765 2877 Fax: (01376) 765 3528 Graphic Design Roberto C. Rojas Reyes Diana Parra Morales Special Events Editor Carol D. Bradley Proofreader Jan Manning Theater Critic Michael Warren Book Review Panel Margaret Van Every Margaret Porter Clare Gearhart Roving Correspondent Dr. Lorin Swinehart
Sales Manager Bruce Fraser Carmene Berner ADVERTISING OFFICE Av. Hidalgo # 223, Chapala Mon. thru Fri. 9 am - 5 pm Sat. 9 am - 1 pm Tel. 01 (376) 765 2877, 765 3676 Fax 01 (376) 765 3528 Send all correspondence, subscriptions or advertising to: El Ojo del Lago www.chapala.com elojodellago@gmail.com
12 Our new writer Sergio Casas intrigues us with his story “Legend of a Heartbeat”. 16 “A Warm Summer’s Day” – Queen D. Michele shares a solution to a conundrum with a close-minded cashier. 20 Psychologist Donna J. Mansfield advises readers in “Preparing for Grief.” 28 “Mirage El Dorado” continues with Conquistadores and Germans conquering México. 42 The View from Tree-side. Lorin Swinehart, author and former forest ranger explains the sentient qualities of trees and other flora. 48 “A Dog Named Socrates.” Don Beaudreau tells of a unique puppy, last of his litter and his survival of a lonesome life.
Photo by Roberto C. Rojas R.
COLUMNS THIS MONTH
6
Guest Editorial
8 Ramblings 14 Vexations & Conundrums: 24 Profiling Tepehua 26 Front Row 32 Lakeside Living
50 “The Life of Santiago”. Zofia Barisas shares her personal experience with the tragic death of a young boy.
38 Verdant View
53 Tom Nussbaum intrigues us with a short story “Ida’s Ghost.”
40 Unsung Heroes
57 “The Wake” Gabriela Blaie shares a poem on a Mexican wake.
54 Ignacio Allende
58 “Yachting in Manzanillo” Margie Keane delights us with her experience of scouting a yacht for purchase.
55 Astrolynx column
Ave. Hidalgo 223 (or Apartado 279), 45900 Chapala, Jalisco Tels.: 376 765 3676, Fax 376 765 3528 PRINTING: El Debate El Ojo del Lago aparece los primeros cinco días de cada mes. (Distributed over the first five days of each month) Certificado de Licitud de Título 3693 Certificado de Licitud de Contenido 3117. Reserva al Título de Derechos de Autor 04-2011-103110024300-102 Control 14301. Permisos otorgados por la Secretaría de Gobernación (EXP. 1/432 “88”/5651 de 2 de junio de 1993) y SEP (Reserva 171.94 control 14301) del 15 de enero de 1994. Distribución: Hidalgo 223 Chapala, Jalisco, México. All contents are fully protected by copyright and may not be reproduced without the written consent of El Ojo del Lago. Opinions expressed by the authors do not necessarily reflect the views of the Publisher or the Editor, nor are we responsible for the claims made by our advertisers. We welcome letters, which should include name, address and telephone number.
4
COVER IMAGE
VOLUME 38 NUMBER 3
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
Saw you in the Ojo
5
COLUMNIST
Editor’s Page Guest Editorial By Fred Mittag
“America’s Failing Infrastructure”
A
bove, a bridge in Minneapolis over the Mississippi River. It collapsed on August 1, 2007, killing 13 and injuring 145. It carried 140,000 vehicles daily. More than 60 years ago, in an economics class at the University of Houston, the professor mentioned that economists know how to manage the economy. The problem, he said, is always political. It’s still the same today, and the political crisis is on the Republican side of the aisle. As a political party, they are failing America. The Preamble declares, “We the people . . . in order to . . . promote the general Welfare . . . do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America. The “general welfare” is a promise to the people. The general welfare is the mission statement of the United States. The economy—how it works and who it serves—is the foundation of our “general welfare.” And in proclaiming how the economy should work, Republicans consistently violate Socrates’ teaching that wisdom is knowing the limits of what we know. Although ignorant of something, conservatives never hesitate to make bold proclamations. Economics is not exempt from the distortions of their ideology. One component of the economy is a moral one. There is the view that somebody worked hard and deserved
6
to be rich. Conversely, if somebody is poor and hungry, they deserve to be so because they are lazy and unmotivated. That’s the Ayn Rand cult of the Republican Party that includes former House Speaker Paul Ryan. “Deserve” is a word entirely subjective in meaning. Does Jeff Bezos “deserve” to make $4,474,885 per hour (according to Business Insider)? And then pay zero taxes? Really? Do Mexican migrant farm workers “deserve” low wages and no way to educate their children? Who works harder? Jeff Bezos or his employees at Amazon? There have been news stories about the terrible working conditions there. Another view of the economy is scientific rather than ideological—what works and what doesn’t. I would argue that what is scientific is also moral. And that brings us to President Biden’s plan of $3.5 trillion in spending. Here, as elsewhere, the Republicans clash with science. In this case, the science of economics. The economy is in some respects like a pie—there’s only so much there. If somebody gets a larger piece of the pie, that means smaller pieces for everybody else. Policy determines the distribution of the pie—policies such as a minimum wage and who pays taxes. A minimum wage of $7.25 guarantees substantial poverty in America. In the case of taxes, a single person making $45,000 per year pays 22% in income tax. Nike and FedEx, along with 53 other big and wealthy corporations, didn’t pay a penny in 2020. Wealthy individuals such as Jeff Bezos, Warren Buffet, Rupert Murdoch, and many others pay zero or next to nothing in taxes. No wonder Senator Bernie Sanders’s mantra is they should “pay their fair share.” Where the pie analogy fails is in the circulation of money. We don’t exchange pieces of pie, but we exchange money, which is stored wealth. If money doesn’t circulate, there can be no economy. One of the problems with both rich corporations and rich individuals is they hide their money in the Cayman Islands. It doesn’t circulate. It just sits there to avoid taxes.
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
By contrast, money that circulates has a multiplier effect, sometimes called the ripple effect. That’s because of the marginal propensity to save (MPS) and the marginal propensity to consume (MPC). These are terms from Keynesian economics. Suppose a company gives an employee a $1,000 bonus, and the employee saves 20% and spends 80%. In that case, $800 is put back into the economy. The process repeats, and whoever gets the $800 saves 20% and spends 80%, putting another $600 into the economy. As this process plays out, the original bonus of $1,000 creates $2,900 worth of economic output, nearly three times the $1,000 bonus that began the “ripple.” President Biden’s proposal, based on the multiplier effect, will increase productivity immensely. It will create jobs that pay something like in the 50s and 60s when America’s middle class was the envy of the world. Biden’s spending plan is money that will stay in America. It’s still America’s money. It’s not going to China to pay back what we borrowed to finance the Iraq War. It’s like taking money from your bank savings to buy a better investment in something else. It’s still your money; you have only moved it from one place to another. When a person goes into business and opens a grocery store, there has to be some investment. The entrepreneur will have to buy a cash register and refrigeration. These are investments that make the economic activity of the grocery possible. It’s not money gone to waste. The same is true for our national economy. Without investment in infrastructure, Walmart and Amazon’s trucks would not be able to distribute their goods. Many people would not be able to get to their workplace. Without airports, business leaders could not travel to close important deals. Infrastructure is an investment. Prosperity and a strong economy depend on infrastructure. Building and repairing the infrastructure creates a demand for labor, which raises pay. The increased revenue from higher wages and salaries pays for the cost of the investment. National investment in infrastructure is similar to a grocery’s profits paying for the cash register and refrigeration costs. According to the American Road & Transportation Builders Association, 220,000 bridges need major repair work or replacement. The best investment of all for public funds is in education. WW II crippled Japan and Germany’s economies. The bombing destroyed much of their infrastructure. Their astonishing economic recovery was possible because both countries had well-trained workforces and a high percentage of well-educat-
ed people. Germany and Japan are not the only confirmation of training and education as public investments that pay dividends. At the end of WW II, American veterans had access to public money for their education, low-cost mortgages, and low-interest loans to start a business. The G.I. Bill was a huge success. By the end of its duration, 7.8 million veterans had used the G.I. Bill’s education benefits. These benefits got 2.2 million veterans through college and 5.6 million in a blue-collar training program. The result of this “socialism” was that veterans pumped money into the economy from their benefits. Their low-cost mortgages put carpenters and bricklayers to work. Those who used the education and training benefits ended up with better-paying jobs and thus paid higher taxes. These higher taxes paid for the cost of their education and then some. America earned substantial dividends from its investment in education and training for veterans. Republicans decry as “socialism” such things as the Hoover Dam and the Tennessee Valley Authority. They have paid for themselves while supplying electricity to millions who didn’t have it. They still provide power to millions of Americans 85 years later. Recently, a fundraising letter came to my box from the Senate Republicans (NRSC). It said, “Right now, the base of the Democrat [sic] Party supports socialism. As a result, President Biden is perfectly fine spending trillions of dollars in what the White House and Senate Democrats deem “human infrastructure.” The Republicans should disabuse themselves of their false beliefs and learn, for example, who built America’s railroads. Yes, it was public (socialist) financing. They should study how well the G.I. Bill worked. They should support President Biden’s Build Back Better program. China has arisen as one of the world’s most powerful economies. They have over 23,500 miles of high-speed rail, up to 300 mph. Japan and Europe similarly have extensive high-speed rail. The U.S. has none. The Acela train reaches 150 mph on some limited stretches, but the average is only 66 mph. The entire Congress, including both Republicans and Democrats, should support President Biden’s American Jobs Plan. It will be good for business, and it will raise living standards for all Americans. It’s a patriotic duty to support it because it’s a big step in realizing the Constitution’s concern for the “general welfare.” Fred Mittag
Saw you in the Ojo
7
COLUMNIST
RAMBLINGS FROM THE RANCH Plan Ahead for Your Pet’s Sake By Christina Bennett
W
e all think we will outlive our pets—and hopefully we will. Unfortunately, none of us can predict the future and even healthy young people can die suddenly. What will happen to your pets if you cross that rainbow bridge ahead of them? Estate and financial planning can be daunting for us all. However, including your pets in those plans is essential for them and for your own peace of mind. That includes designating funds for their care. Every month, The Ranch gets at least one request from a deceased person’s relatives or friends, wanting to drop off the person’s dogs. As you may know, The Ranch is usually full (with a waiting list!) and this is not always possible. Additionally, many of these pets are elderly themselves, coping with illnesses and used to being pampered. A shelter is a very hard environment for animals like that. The Ranch takes pride in housing homeless dogs in the most comfortable manner possible, but house dogs may have problems adapting. Furthermore, finding adopters for older dogs with chronic problems is not easy either. Take time NOW to prevent heartbreak for your pets. Here are some ideas for you: Speak to a trusted local friend and get their agreement to manage the re-
8
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
homing of your pet. Be sure they have a key to your house. Boarding your animals, buying their medicines, donating to a shelter for their care, or flying them to a foreign adopter is expensive. Most boarding facilities charge about 400 pesos a day. Shelters, like The Ranch, spend at least $30 U.S. a month on basic care. Flying a dog “up North” is roughly $500 U.S. (vaccines, import paperwork, crate, dog’s airfare). Hide the money in a safe place for your friend or make sure someone has access to your bank account. A few thousand US dollars would be a good amount to set aside. Have your animals’ health records available—vaccinations, medication schedule, list of chronic conditions. Your friend should be prepared to help find an adopter. Local rescue groups can help. Finding an adopter is easier with clear health records for the dog and funds to send the dog to its new home. If you have an “up North” executor or inheritor, make sure that person knows the importance of caring for your animals and that financial help will be needed. Your pet will be grieving for you when you pass away. Help make their transition easier by making a plan for their future. These animals can have a happy ending, as evidenced by a recent case where a deceased person’s friend was able to work with The Ranch to facilitate and fund a foreign adoption. That doggie is now safe and happy with his new family! For more information or to learn about volunteering, adopting or donating please go to theranchchapala. com or email us at adoptaranchdog@ outlook.com
Saw you in the Ojo
9
“The Night of the Dead” Lives on in Patzcuaro, Mexico By Carol L. Bowman
T
he pristine sky glistened with starry constellations, while the half moon’s glow showed the way. Mist rose from Lake Patzcuaro and a chilly midnight breeze whipped around our necks. Captain Fidel moored his launch, the Carmela, through the darkness from Patzcuaro pier toward our anticipated destination. We passed by Janitzio Island where boat after boat deposited hundreds of visitors coming to see the November 2nd, ‘Night of the Dead’ celebration on Lake Patzcuaro, Michoacán, Mexico. The noisy crowds and hawking vendors on shore resembled a spectator event. We had hoped for a more sol-
10
emn experience and we sighed with relief as Fidel veered our boat away from the confusion. Our eyes searched across the black water, until an empty dock emerged from the lake’s edge. The eerie quiet beckoned us and Fidel moored the boat alongside the pier, securing the line on a flimsy pole. After disembarking, we lumbered up steep stone steps to a high plateau, where we spotted village children ringing the church bells. The reverberating sound shattered the silence, calling departed souls to return. Elderly P’urhepecha women, wrapped in traditional black and neon blue rebozos, pushed wheel-
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
barrows piled with grave offerings over the rutty path toward the cemetery entrance. We entered through the illuminated adobe arch as quiet intruders, but hoped to be accepted as witnesses of this solemn vigil of the Mexican tribute to death. The ritual of “El Dia del los Muertos”, the Day of the Dead, actually starts at midnight, the Night of the Dead. The funerary wakes practiced by the P’urhepechas, (known as Tarascans in pre-Hispanic times) interwoven with Catholic ceremonies honoring the dead on Nov. 1, All Saints Day and Nov. 2, All Souls Day, resulted in a blended religious event for the indigenous communities in Mexico. Celebrations begin October 31st when families gather flowers, candles, food and other offerings to prepare home and gravesite altars. November 1st represents the day of the “Little Angels” vigil for deceased children, followed by a midnight to dawn gravesite wake for departed adults on November 2nd. The celebration of mass and feast of offerings at the cathedral on the Day of the Dead, November 2nd concludes the commemoration. The sanctity of the cemetery on that late night gave an aura of solemn homage. Handmade, three foot candles, which lined gravesites covered with marigold petals, provided a lighted path for the departed soul’s journey back to their loved ones. Simple, wooden altars, wrapped tight with flowers, acted as headstones. Favorite foods, candies, sugared skulls and even articles of clothing worn by the deceased decorated the altars. Bottles of Tequila stood ready on the graves for souls, thirsty from their long journey. The vivid orange marigolds or cempoalxoachitl, representing the sun’s glow, bounced off the candlelight and brightened the 2 AM sky. The smoky smell of copal wood fires lingered and families huddled on the frosty ground, faces showing grief, pride, even joy. The sensual and emotional bombardments proved staggering. To reduce the impact of our ‘tourist invasion,’ we brought gifts of flowers and tall candles which we had purchased earlier on the street corners of Patzcuaro. Instead of being gawkers with cameras, we hoped to modify our role to “participant” by presenting our offerings to mourners. I searched the faces of gravesite family members for a prospective recipient of our gifts. Economic means showed, even here. Families with sufficient funds adorned altars with elaborate offerings, while oth-
ers managed only a few flickers of light, no altar and a sparse bunch of posies. Grief can never be measured by excess. A lone P’urhepecha woman, her traditional shawl drawn tightly to ward off the night’s chill and the loneliness, sat beside a newly-dug grave. She stared into the darkness, motionless. A recent wound, no doubt, a fresh loss. Other graves sites overflowed with relatives who rejoiced at the prospect of their loved one’s soul returning to greet them for a night. I spotted an elderly man, adorning a grave with three candles while his wife, murmured out loud in P’urhepecha language, perhaps trying to communicate with the spirit of the deceased. At least twenty candles lined the gravesite next to them, with twelve relatives waiting to greet a lost soul. The visual comparison cemented which family would receive my offering. I approached the old gentleman, and offered the long, waxed stick and flowers we brought. “Quisiera darle a su familia un regalo.” (I would like to give your family this gift.) He smiled with gentle understanding, dug the soft earth to receive the candle and motioned for me to sit with the family. His wife, in halting Spanish, said they visit the grave of her husband’s father every year. This dedication to departed family members for generations awed me. I wondered how many people from my culture would sit by a grave from midnight to dawn on the frigid ground at 6000 feet above sea level to await the return a family member’s soul. I knew the answer - none. One other scene imprinted an indelible mark; the gravesite of a child. Favorite toys intertwined the marigold decked altar. The mother tended to every detail with deliberate precision, as she sang a soft lullaby to her young son, gone from her arms. Thankfully, I seemed invisible in her grief. We walked among the dead, but I have never experienced a cemetery so full of life. The positive energy expended to maintain contact with deceased loved ones, reveals the extraordinary nature of the Mexican people. I shall not soon forget the images of that night; that grieved stare, the offer to a gringa to sit awhile, the frosty boat ride across Lake Patzcuaro. Experiencing the Night of the Dead has changed my Carol L. Bowman view of death.
Saw you in the Ojo 11
The Legend of Heartbeat Mountain: The Blue-Eyed Witch. By Sergio Casas
C
urious children scramble up the side of Heartbeat Mountain. They were told, over many years, that if they placed an ear to the rocks, and listened very carefully, they could hear a heartbeat. Nobody knows why it is called Heartbeat Mountain. Nobody knows the real story, my story. Now, I am going to tell you. Every night she comes to my dreams. I can see her beautiful face. I can feel her delicate hand on my cheek. Her kisses make me feel like I am in heaven. She stays with me until the first rays of sunlight. One night, I said, “I love you. Even
12
though this is a dream, I love you.” She said, “Don’t worry, the spell I cast on you will soon disappear.” I smiled and said, “Angels don’t cast spells.” Then, she stopped coming to my dreams. After a few nights, my dreams showed me a walking path, up a mountain. I was compelled to find that path and follow it, wherever it may take me. Giving in to my instincts, I scrambled up a wooded incline, not sure of where I was until I saw the familiar trail. As my heart guided me, and then quickened, I felt I was close to the place where my heart needs to be. My breathing became shallow as the mist lifted.
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
Now I had in front of me a cave where I could feel her presence. I took a deep breath and went inside. The smell of sulfur and coal made my breathing difficult. As I walked through the dark, I could hear murmuring. The dim light of a fire illuminated the rest of the passage. The passage opened to a large cavern and there stood a woman, ragged with her head bowed, stirring some enchanted concoction in a huge cauldron. Everything in my soul knew it was her, my love, my dream. I approached slowly and she stopped mixing for a few seconds and without looking at me asked: “What are you doing here? The spell I cast should have worn off by now.” When I looked in her face and heard her voice, even though both were ragged and craggy, I knew it was her. “I come here of my own free will and I have come to take you with me.” “Who do you think you are? This is my place,” she responded with an irritated voice. “You are trapped here, you are not really a witch, you are an angel who dared to get too close to the devil and now you are paying for that.” As I spoke, she plucked worms, cockroaches, spiders, and scorpions from the floor and wall of the cavern and placed them in a hole in her chest, a dark hole where her heart should be. Behind her I could make out a huge shadow. A demon with eyes of fire and the tongue of a snake. He silently raised his hand and showed me a bleeding heart, her heart. With anguish I told her, “I cannot fight this battle. You must fight to get your heart back so you can get out of here with m ...” “Shut up! she shouted. “You don’t know anything. I’ve been in places where you haven’t, I’ve experienced things that you haven’t, so don’t talk to me about what’s best for me “ and she went back to collecting bugs. “You are right, but I am not blind, and I can clearly see your suffering under that mask of indifference and
self-control but let me try.” In a low, but strong voice, she said: “I have been in your dreams because I felt your heart full of love but you denied it to yourself. That is how I found you. Your heart called me. I was only supposed to be a dream for you.” The shadow behind her emitted a gutteral sound. She hesitated. “Even though you told me you loved me, even if I have the same feeling for you, I can’t fight, I’m weak. I need my heart to fight.” She dropped to her knees. The fire illuminated her face and I could see blood tears run down her cheek. Hearing her words, I sat down on a rock and with my right hand hit my chest with enough force to rip out my heart and so, bleeding and with my hand outstretched, I told her: “now you have one, remove all that loneliness and hatred from your chest, put my heart in the hole and snatch your own heart from the devil, so we can both get out of this cave; I’ll take care of you.” She slowly shook her head, her eyes met mine, telling me: “Do you really want to do this?” “Yes. I believe in the power of love and my heart is full, take it.” I insisted. “I understand,” she said in a languid voice, “but I don’t know if I can do it, it might take me time, maybe a lot. Will you be sitting there waiting?” “Because I can still see an angel in your blue eyes, I’ll be here waiting until you take my heart, or until it stops beating,” I replied with my arm outstretched and my bleeding heart, beating, in the palm of my hand. Now, if you don’t believe me, I dare you to come to Heartbeat Mountain, scramble up through the brush. Nature has long ago overgrown the path and closed the entrance to her cave. But place your ear on the rocks. You will hear my heart, still beating… Sergio Casas
Saw you in the Ojo 13
Tar Balls
W
hen I was a little girl, we had a secret swimming hole, a spring, secluded and shady under a grove of trees. My granddad had located it and when it was hot, we would load into the back of his black, rounded-front pickup truck, and jump off the back into the welcoming cool, clear water. One hot day I asked my Poppy if we could go swimming.
14
“Not anymore,” he replied somberly. “Someone threw a dead hog in the water, and it is no longer safe.” Our hideaway was sullied. Who would do something so careless, ruining such a natural delight? I felt like the person should be in jail. Years later, as a teenager, I’d spend summers with my cousins. They were older by a few years, popular and fun. And they had a boat! We would water
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
ski in the lake, escorted by teen boys volunteering to work for the privilege of participating in the sport. I thought this was paradise. Some days we would even climb an oil storage tank and jump about twenty feet down into the water. We had a personal amusement park. I bought a new white bikini and was thrilled to show it off. One day I was the last person to ski. I took my turn and skied until I was tired. As I climbed back into the boat, I looked down at my swimsuit in horror. My prized new swimsuit was spotted with tiny black, grimy balls. There was a rainbow hue to the stains as I turned in the late day sun. What was this? That was the last time I skied in the lake, as I realized there was now unseen pollution, and it couldn’t possibly be healthy to be swimming in this water anymore. Later, I moved from Louisiana to Texas. I planned a fun weekend getaway with a boyfriend in Galveston, staying at a fancy hotel facing the sea wall. The beach beckoned us to stroll, running our bare toes through the sand and enjoying the sunset. Shangri-La! After our first stroll, I donned my flip-flops and went back to the room. I was preparing to shower for dinner when I noticed black smears on the bottom of my feet. I tried removing them with soap and water, but it wasn’t effective. Then I noticed some white packets on the vanity: Tar Removal Wipes. In this fanciest of hotels, on beautiful waters, one needed tar removal wipes to erase the ugly black stains picked up on the bottom of feet at the edge of the water. Not ShangriLa. A couple of years ago my husband and I were guests at a condo facing the Galveston port where ships lined up to offload products. One night we were on the balcony and noticed a commotion on a jutting finger of land at the bay. First police cars came and cleared the area of sightseers. Lights flashing, sirens off, they blocked the road with
multiple vehicles. Then the fire department hazardous waste team showed up, again silently. There was a clandestine quality to what we were witnessing. The next day we learned a barge loaded with oil hit another barge and there was a leak. How much oil had spilled? At breakfast, I mentioned the event to our diner waitress. Her smile faded and her expression fell. The hand holding her order pad dropped down to her waist. “Not again!” she said despondently, as though this happened all the time. Now we are experiencing dramatic increases in natural disasters. Opposing viewpoints on how we remedy this danger to our continued existence are raging. Clean energy movements form and face the wrath of the fossil fuels industry. One friend asked me incredulously, “You actually think that man can control the weather?!” I thought before I answered. “Well, if for every action there is a reaction, then yes.” According to NASA, 97% of actively publishing scientists the world over believe that man has contributed to a global emergency. This is a consensus. My husband and I debate making the move to a hybrid electric car. I know that petroleum products are used to make life-saving things like blood storage bags. One can’t just stop an industry on a dime. But I am ready to sacrifice to try and save our waterways, to return to a planet not plagued by ever-fiercer hurricanes and fires, destroying the lives of so many people. Our species has cavalierly put our waste in the planet’s waters, using them as toilets. We continue to rely on fossil fuels, raising the earth’s temperature. I remain perplexed by our lack of foresight, which has brought us to this critical juncture. Katina Pontikes
Saw you in the Ojo 15
A Warm and Sunny Day By Queen D. Michele
D
uring the time I was researching and trying to decide if I wanted to drive my car into Mexico, an incident occurred which made the thought of not having a car, paying for insurance, and driving become very appealing to me. It was a warm sunny day, and I had an appointment cross town. As I entered the garage, I noticed my front right tire was low again. I made a mental note that there was definitely a slow leak in that tire, and I was going to have to stop band-aiding it by filling it with air every few days. Pulling out my driveway, I looked down at the gas gage and noticed I was just at a fourth of a tank. I needed to fill up. No problem, I’d stop at the gas station right before hitting the freeway. I pulled up to pump 1 and proceeded into the gas station where I asked for 20 dollars on # one and asked the cashier for change for a dollar, explaining I needed to put air in my tire. She obliged and I walked out, got into my car and drove over to the air pump. After putting an adequate amount of air, I knew because I used a gauge, in my tire I got back in my car and drove off. While driving down the freeway to my appointment I looked down at my gas gauge and noticed it was still on a fourth of a tank. Damn! Replaying the whole scene in my mind I realized that I never pumped my gas! I must have been so focused on putting air in my tire I completely blanked out on pumping my gas. Oh well, I was too far down the freeway and closer to my appointment to come up and go back down. I reasoned that I had enough gas to get to the appointment and return to the gas station afterwards to rectify the situation. I forged ahead. Thankfully, the appointment was an in and out deal and I was back on the freeway heading back to the gas station within an hour. It was still a warm and sunny day as I pulled back in to the gas station, and coincidentally pump # one was open. I pulled up to it, got out and remember thinking as I put the pump inside the tank that I should have done it this way in the first place, that way I wouldn’t have forgotten to pump. I walked back into the station where the same cashier was tending to another customer.
16
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
When my turn came, I stepped up and explained how silly I felt but when I paid for my gas, I drove off and never pumped it. She looked at me indifferently and said that there was nothing she could do about that. Surely, she hadn’t quite understood what I said, so I again explained that it had only been less than two hours since I was there. I was the one who asked for change to put air in my tire. I had given her a twenty-dollar bill and a dollar in exchange for four quarters. She then said, “that’s not my problem, people can say anything, and you don’t have any proof that you didn’t pump the gas.” Now, I’m blown away and my voice is raised as I say to her the proof is in my %$#% empty tank. I try and reason with her that why would I come back and try to get twenty more dollars’ worth of gas that my tank couldn’t hold in the first place. I wanted the gas that I paid for! And you know I paid for it, I say. As we are going back and forth a gentleman behind raises his voice and says, “Man, you know this lady paid for her gas quit trippin and give me ten on # seven” as he reaches over me to drop a ten-dollar bill through the slot. She takes his money and looks at me like, “and, this conversation is over.” At this point I am totally livid and thoroughly outdone. I started looking around the gas station with the thought, oh you’re gonna give me twenty dollars’ worth of something. There were stacks of t-shirts for sale under the large counter sitting in bins. Without thinking any further I picked up as many of the t-shirts as I could hold, smirked at the cashier and briskly walked five steps out the door. The cashier pushed a button as she stood behind the thick plexiglass protection barrier, and locked me in. I turned to her and demanded she open the door. She picked up the phone and said she was calling the police. I walked over, dropped the t-shirts Continued on page 18
Saw you in the Ojo 17
From page 16 back in the bin, and said, “and tell them what?” “I was gonna steal?” Defeated, I walked back to the door, rattled it and again demanded that she open the door. She ignored me, while holding the phone to her ear. In a split second I heard the door click as if to open, I spotted a huge incense display sitting on a counter right at the edge of the door (I happen to love incense and burn it daily). In a snap second decision I snatched up the display with both hands and bolted out the door. The guy who was in line behind me was pumping his gas, and immediately summarized what had just happen, he looked at me and said, “Oh! You better hurry up.” The adrenaline coursing through my veins in that moment was something I had never experienced, I had never done anything like that in my life. I opened my car door, tossed the display in the passenger seat, started the car and shot out of the gas station like a bat out of hell. In that instant I thought I heard a thump of some sort but with the adrenaline on full blast I discarded the thought as soon as it appeared as my tires burned rubber onto the street. I was one exit up from my home, so I dashed onto the freeway
18
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
breathing heavy as if I had run a hundred-yard dash. A car pulled up alongside of me on the freeway and when I looked over he was motioning towards the back of my car, I thought and mouthed to him oh, the gas cap (thinking it was open) he shook his head vigorously. I looked through my side mirror back at the tank and discovered I was dragging the entire gas pump down the freeway! That thump I heard was the pump being snatched out its station. I flashed back to putting the pump in my tank before I had walked back into the station to claim my twenty dollars’ worth of gas, assuming that there would be no problem. Boy, was I wrong as I watched in horror the sparks popping off the pump being dragged by my car! I came up on my exit, pulled over and quickly pulled the pump out from my tank and threw it over in the grass on the off ramp. I shook my head, got back in my car and drove home. I backed into my garage, let the door down, took a few deep breathes and the incense display invaded my nostrils. I looked down at the gas gauge which was just about on empty now, cut the car off, picked up my display of incense and went in the house. Throughout the rest of that warm and sunny day, I retold the story to family and friends who thought that was one of the funniest stories they’d heard. There was teasing, laughing, the asking for boxes of incense, and little concern for police involvement. I definitely never returned to that gas station during the rest of my stay, before I moved to Mexico. I’m currently two months away from my one-year anniversary here, and as I write this, I’m burning the incense that was my retribution to not receiving the twenty dollars’ worth Queen D. of gas on that warm Michele and sunny day.
Saw you in the Ojo 19
Preparing for Grief By Donna J. Mansfield
I
didn’t know before my husband died how well prepared I was for grief. Sure, I suffered, lost my memory, had a bad reaction to tranquillizers, cried almost non-stop, couldn’t eat (my throat closed after two bites) and missed him like crazy. And it took about six weeks before I stopped saying to friends who asked “How can I help?” with the response, “Bring him back”. When I could look around me with clear eyes, I could see how well I was being supported in my grief. Chuck had been a member of Alcoholics Anonymous for forty-eight years and we had been attending a local open AA meeting for over a year, and at that meeting, non-alcoholics could speak. There I was surrounded by people who knew and loved him. They could listen to the pain of my loss because they felt the same way. Those folks are not made uncomfortable by sharing painful feelings because they do this regularly with honesty and bravery. Saying it a different way, these people are KNOWN and KNOW me. We don’t coddle each other emotionally. And this is the rarest form of being known. I wonder in looking back at how attending 12 Step meetings for 46 years enhanced our marriage and personal growth journeys. Some people are lucky to have ONE trusted friend with whom they can be honest. We had dozens. And they didn’t back away in uncertainty when I LOST Chuck. They respected me enough to know that they couldn’t say anything that would make my grief worse, or better. That I could, even in my grief, take care of myself or they would take over. We also attended a Zoom ‘Partners in Recovery’ meeting with new friends here and long-time friends in France, two of which had joined our “Die at 95 Club”. We formed this group with others who decided we would live healthy until age 95 and then die on the same day as our partners. It was a noble goal. Dr. Bernie Seigel in his book “Love,
Medicine and Miracles” indicates we have some limited control over our own deaths. In our case, this was not to be. Whatever, we put death out of our thoughts with the exception of prepaying for our cremations and writing health directives and hold harmless agreements with our doctors in case they made “mistakes” that caused our deaths. But even though my husband had a debilitating disease, we put death mostly out of mind and focused on living each day. However, with the “95” mindset, I found myself angry when he died because he “owed” me 14 years. I was also fortunate to have a friend who had been a widow for seven years. She was persistent in the face of my ignoring her offers of help, constantly sending me emails that said, “I want to have lunch/dinner/coffee”. When I finally relented she gave me constant reassurance that what I was experiencing was normal grief and not as “off the rails” as I determined. It is impossible to imagine ahead of time how you will grieve so every reaction that is not normal in your usual life feels crazy. I think it might also be helpful to read a book about grieving before YOU NEED IT. That will make you much less self-critical when the time comes. And speaking of books, buy a copy of “Healing After Loss”, by Martha Whitmore Hickman. It will help you, once your spouse dies to move from caregiving to grief because you will be stunned by the loss of your past role. And please be aware that your caregiving skills are not transferable to yourself. I also have an Al-Anon sponsor who can listen to resentments I had with friends and family who have no experience in emotional honesty. I judged them harshly. One family member even told me I expected too much of people. I had to listen and consider this criticism and found it to be true but not valid. With 46 years of 12-Step Programs and 40 years of being a psychotherapist, I am used to people gathering together for purposes of Continued on page 22
20
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
Saw you in the Ojo 21
From page 20 eliminating their liabilities, increasing their enjoyment of life, and coming to love themselves. This leaves me little patience for victims who excuse their failure to change to fear as if that excuses it, or to the neglected childhood resentments they can’t let go of. Also, with my widowed friend, we have started a local branch of the USA based Modern Widows Club. Hopefully, when you need it, a branch will be available. I don’t have a resource for men, sadly. This is important for women because the MWC’s website is a wealth of information that widows need as they traverse the deep waters of settling estates and insurance claims. This is incredibly difficult when one is overwhelmed by grief. As a psychotherapist in private practice, I am quite familiar with insurance companies that want to slow walk payouts. I used to hire sweet and unassuming women to be my insurance clerks. Within six weeks I would walk into their office and hear them swearing, screaming and spitting anger to the insurance rep on the other end of the phone. They would accuse that rep of throwing the paperwork away as the first step in paying a claim…and then recite a list of other behaviors that slow down legitimate claims. I found one kind and sensitive insurance agent in all my survivor interactions. I received one notice that the company had received all necessary paperwork in my survivor case. Then, three weeks later, I received another notice that my claim could not be processed because there was outstanding paperwork. By now, I was so angry that it crowded grief aside and I got on the phone with an insurance rep. His name was Chris and he listened patiently to my rant. Then he said, “Donna, turn over the first page of the letter”. There was a list of all required paperwork. All were marked submitted EXCEPT one form that the company had to fill out.
22
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
Chris said, “this letter is absolutely thoughtless to send to grieving spouses. Let’s go over it page by page to determine changes that should be made in order not to re-traumatize grieving spouses”. I promise you, I will take your suggestions to the highest authority in the company and fight to secure change”. The first needed change was NOT to write the paperwork list on the BACK of the first page as the natural instinct when reading is to go to the NEXT page. His words suddenly straightened my tilted world upright. It was no longer tilted in favor of a heartless insurance company. Another thing necessary for caregivers is to have a caregiver of their own. Unless I remind you, you won’t think of doing that on your own because all your attention is focused on making life easier for your ill loved one. But you really do need someone to remind you to take a walk, go to a movie, or eat healthy. To demonstrate how skewed a caregiver’s life gets, during the entire 12 years of my husband’s decline only one person asked how I was doing. A caregiver seems to disappear into their role. Be prepared to be ignorant of how to take care of yourself once your loved one dies. The transition from other to self is difficult because you probably have become expert at ignoring your own needs in order to prioritize another. You will also feel purposeless. Only when the ill person is no longer there do you realize the inordinate amount of time it took to care for them. Life seems empty but that is just the stillness of waiting for the tide of your own being to surge back in. In order to prepare for this, decide on a hobby to try before you need it and, maybe even buy the supplies you will need to carry it out. Choose a club, an exercise group or a lecture series you might be interested in when you get the time and write down the details of how to participate. You won’t be capable of gathering this info when you REALLY NEED IT. Write down self-care appointments you will need to make: nails, haircut, dental appointment, massage, etc. Because after death occurs, you will find yourself looking in the mirror at overlong hair, broken nails, or a physical pain from lack of touch. You will need to learn to be proficient at skillful emotional discharges because the emotions of grief might overwhelm you otherwise. Remember, “the only way out of it is through it”. But how to do this requires a much more extensive explanation and will be saved for the next article.
Saw you in the Ojo 23
COLUMNIST
PROFILING TEPEHUA By Moonyeen King President of the Board for Tepehua
moonie1935@yahoo.com
T
he Tepehuas are an indigenous people whose name in Nahuatl means ‘people of the mountains’. They are originally from Hildago, Veracruz and the eastern slopes of the Sierra Madre Oriental. The Tepehuas are not to be confused with the Tepehuans which is a totally different tribe and region. Tepehuas are from the Totonacan family whilst Tepehuans are from the Uto-Aztecan. Tepehua is spoken in the East of Central Mexico and Tepehuan is spoken in the North West. Just to confuse, within the Tepehua Tribe three languages are spoken because the mountain area isolated the villages and the groups never mingled. The same applies to the Tepehuans; also three languages in one tribe. According to Wikipedia trivia, from the same area as the Tepehuas came the ant Tepeguas. ‘Tepe’ means mountain/hill. Migration was inevitable due to natural disasters, famine, fire and pestilence. The families moved south over the generations, very slowly, with several conquerors in between. The usual plunders of war - rape, mixed marriages, expansion of the tribe—changed tribal blood but a much stronger society evolved. As mountain people it was natural they picked familiar territory, most settling in mountainous
24
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
areas or near the water. Here in Chapala was the perfect place, 5,000 feet above sea level and on a natural lake. The hills of Tepehua are beautiful, but unforgiving. It is very hard to make a living off the land which is volcanic and has very little soil. Most of the male population has turned to construction, leaving the hill and going to work in the local Lakeside towns looking for any kind of employment. Lack of education has kept them in the barrios in which they were born. That is now changing. The whole area has opened up to the world and, as other people settle here and bring in the outside world, education is needed. With the influence of outsiders education is coming at a rapid pace to the barrios. Tepehua Community Center’s main objective is helping the people get education and we have put hundreds through school. Although education has been interrupted for two years, we are trying to catch up and celebrate the opening of the schools again for the rest of 2021. A better assessment of the damage done by the pandemic will be clearer at the end of this last 2021 semester. Some of the students haven’t come back. Our University program always needs sponsors, as higher education is expensive. From first grade donations for books, uniforms, registration fees, etc. are needed, as large families cannot afford to send all their children to school. Our world needs all of them in school to strengthen the middle class. They are the ones we all rely on the most. The plumbers, bricklayers, house keepers and gardeners, shop keepers, waiters, police and firemen to name a few. They are the ones that support the whole, but they need those first informative years spent on learning. Basic education is supposed to be free, it isn’t. With help from Lakeside we have changed a whole generation. If we change a few more they will not need our help, they will have changed their world to a level playing field.
Saw you in the Ojo 25
COLUMNIST
FRONT ROW CENTER By Michael Warren Everything in the Garden by Edward Albee (adapted from the play by Giles Cooper)
Directed by Peggy Lord Chilton
T
he original play by Giles Cooper opened in London in 1962, and Albee wrote an American version a few years later as a tribute to his friend. It’s described as a black comedy, but it’s not funny at all. The play is a bleak commentary on the American Dream. The scene is set in the living room and sunroom of the suburban house belonging to “Richard” and “Jenny”. They are desperately short of money, and most of their dialogue revolves about this everpresent problem. They can’t afford to send their daughter “Robin” (played by Maxanne Swanson) to summer camp, and they buy cheap cigarettes in order to save the coupons. Mark Donaldson has a difficult task making Richard believable, and does his best in the part. Mostly he yells his lines, but this means that later in the play there is little contrast to his earlier lines and it doesn’t mean much when he really has something to yell about. Lori Denise Grant is excellent as Jenny, who is willing to find a job in order to supplement their income. But Richard refuses to allow her to work. This might have seemed true in the 60’s, but is inexplicable today. Enter the presence of evil in the form of “Mrs. Toothe”. She runs
26
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
a bordello, patronized by bored and wealthy men. It’s easy money, and Jenny soon succumbs to temptation. Donna Burroughs plays Mrs. Toothe with some skill in an almost military white suit—Dante would have placed her in one of the lower circles of hell. There is also a mysterious character “Jack” who wanders onto the stage, and speaks in asides to the audience. He is well played by Brian Mattes, who lets us know that Jack is eccentric and very wealthy. In Act 2 we get to meet the neighbors, played jovially by Sally Jo Bartlett, Brana Corredor, Pamela Johnson, Douglas Pinkerton, Tom Nussbaum and Peter Luciano. The rest of the play is about the consequences of greed. Finally, at the end of the play we are left to wonder if Richard and Jenny will be arrested for murder – not exactly a happy ending. In Shaw’s play “Mrs. Warren’s Profession” there is a critique of hypocrisy and the lack of opportunities for women. Here no one cares about anything except appearances and the danger of being found out. Possibly that sentiment is more true today than when Albee wrote it. The pace was terrific, and all the cast did a great job with this disturbing play. Congratulations to Peggy Lord Chilton and all her hardworking team. Stage Manager was Ruth Varner-Smith and her Assistant was Shelley Betts. I should also mention the appropriate set design by Alan Bowers. Next up is “The Madres” by Stephanie Alison Walker which opens on November 5. It’s good to have LLT back and running hard! Michael Warren
Saw you in the Ojo 27
El Dorado AND THEN CAME THE CONQUISTADORES By Robert Drynan
F
ollowing Cristóbal Colón’s voyage of discovery in 1492, Spanish adventurers began explorations of the New World. An early expedition to the Caribbean coast of what is today Colombia bore two map makers, Juan de la Cosa and Amerigo Vespucci. These first explorations drew little interest in locating cities on the South American mainland, but by 1528 Rodrigo de Bastidas established a permanent settlement on a deep protected bay and named it Santa Marta. Pedro de Herédia established a second settlement in 1533 on the smoking ruins of an indigenous settlement known as Calamari that at a later date acquired the more famous identity of Cartagena de las Indias. On April 6, 1536 the first grasping hand of conquest extended toward the land of the Muisca. Gonzalo Jiménez de Quesada with 500 soldiers advanced southward from Santa Marta in search of the
Gonzalo Jimenez de Quesada villages of the salt makers, following the course of the great Río Magdalena and then climbing the slopes of the Cordillera Oriental toward the Sabana Grande occupied by modern-day Bogotá. To the south on his third attempt in the conquest of Perú, Francisco Pizarro at the field of Cajamarca defeated Atahualpa and ransomed the Inca emperor for a fabulous treasure of gold and silver. Then Pizarro murdered his captive.
From Cajamarca Pizarro set off to Cuzco to extend his conquests. In the meantime he dispatched Diego de Almagro and Sebastián Belalcázar to reduce and capture the northern-most Inca redoubt located on the site of modern-day Quito, Ecuador. From Quito, Belalcázar, accompanied by 100 Spanish soldiers, marched northward and entered the lands of the Chipcha culture that had remained independent of the Inca Empire. In October of 1535 he captured the indigenous settlement of Popayán, (that to this day remains one of the most charming colonial cities in Colombia). Before arriving at Popayán, Belalcázar had established a European settlement at present-day Pasto, capital of the Colombian state of Nariño. Later he founded Santiago de Cali, today Colombia’s third largest city. Belalcázar became known as the founder of cities. He was responsible several more that have survived until this day. In 1537 persistent rumors of a native prince who covered himself in gold drew Belalcázar from Popayán to the highlands occupied by the Muisca. To his dismay he found that Quesada had arrived before him and defeated the Muisca princes, taking possession of the gold and emeralds that the Indians regarded as having only ceremonial value. Soon, deceptive tales of a golden city drew Quesada and Belalcázar off to the north where they may have crossed paths with another unexpected adventurer. And along came the Germans In 1516 Charles I, became the first king of consolidated Spain, uniting Castile and Aragon. In 1519 as heir of the Austrian Hapsburg family, he became Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor. He was quickly embroiled in dynastic wars in France and Italy and at the same time became an uncompromising foe of the incipient Protestant Reformation. His European adventures plunged him deeply into debt. Among his largest creditors was the Bavarian banking family of Anton and Bartolomeus Welser. In 1528 the Welsers obtained agreement from Charles to colonize and exploit the lands identified as Nueva Granada, roughly the territory occupied by Venezuela, today. The first German expedition arrived on Lake Maracaibo in 1529. They encountered an indigenous population living in huts built on pilings over the waters of the lake, (a village on the water, Sinamaica, still persists today). They called their first settlement Klein Venedig, or Little Venice, ergo Venez - uela. The Germans’ immediate objective was not to establish a colony, but to seek riches that would compensate them for their investment in the Holy Roman Emperor. In 1531 the first of the adventurers, Ambrosius Alfinger, mounted an expedition into the mountains dividing Venezuela from modern Colombia, the Seranía
28
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
de Perijá. It lasted two-and-half years. There is no evidence that they found any wealth, but they did meet with ferocious resistance that cost Alfinger his life to a poisoned arrow. (Alfinger’s time in Venezuela must not have been entirely fruitless: the surname Alfinger is very common to this day among Venezuelans residing in the environs of Lake Maracaibo). A second German expedition was mounted in 1535, driven this time by rumors of El Dorado brought back by a survivor of the first campaign, Nikolaus Federman. This foray also led to disaster when they marched into the lands of the Chibcha. Of the force of 450 soldiers and 1,500 friendly Indians that had set forth, only 80 sick and ragged Europe-
Atahualpa’s ransom included filling this room once with gold and twice with silver. ans returned after more than four years in futile search for wealth. The force had divided early in the venture and one part was never heard from again. It is not recorded whether German and Spaniard actually met in the lands of the Chibcha, but such an event might account for the disappearance of the missing party of Germans. A legend persists to the present of a massacre in the mountains of the Perijá by Indians of a party of conquistadores returning to Maracaibo from the west. The Conquest of Perú The first attempt at exploration of the interior of the South American continent was undertaken in 1522 by Pascual de Andagoya. He landed at a point near where the border of Ecuador and Colombia lies today. Nearby friendly indigenous people told him of a city of gold called Virú that stood on the banks of a river known as Pirú, (hence the origin of the name Perú.) Andagoya fell ill and cut short his explorations, returning to Panamá. Francisco Pizarro arrived in the New World in 1502. He accompanied Vasco de Balboa on his march across the Panamanian isthmus in 1524 to be among the first Europeans to see the Pacific Ocean. In Panamá, Pizarro formed a partnership with a soldier, Diego de Almagro, to explore and conquer Virú and divide it’s wealth between them. Pizarro and his confederates mounted two exContinued on page 30
Saw you in the Ojo 29
From page 28 peditions to the land of El Dorado in 1524 and 1526 both of which met with forceful resistance. It served to reinforce their certainty that Virú offered opportunity for wealth and power. As Pizarro and Almagro began preparations for a third adventure, the governor of Panamá refused them permission to initiate the attempt. Pizarro sailed to Spain and in 1528 obtained permission for the venture directly from King of Spain, Carlos I in a document known as the Capitulación de Toledo. In the meantime a young adventurer, Francisco de Orellana, Pizarro’s cousin and like Pizarro, native of Trujillo in Spanish Extremadura, arrived in Panamá at the tender age of seventeen. When Pizarro returned from Spain in 1530, Orellana joined his cousin’s expedition. Pizarro’s force consisted of 108 infantry and 60 horsemen when he marched to Cajamarca. He met with Atahualpa’s army of many thousands and defeated the Inca emperor by ruse. Approaching with gifts, the Spaniards slew Atahualpa’s personal guards and made the Inca emperor prisoner. Pizarro’s brothers Gonzalo and Hernando and another prominent Spaniard, Hernando de Soto, who a few years later explored the Southern United States from Florida to Arkansas, also participated in the venture. After the ransoming and execution of Atahualpa, the Spanish forces marched on the Inca capital at Cuzco and capturing the city, installed seventeen year old Manco Inca as a puppet emperor, (a tactic perhaps learned from Hernán Cortéz, who slew Moctezuma and installed his son Cuautemóc). Pizarro returned to the coast and founded Lima, making that city the capital of his conquest. Almagro, Pizarro’s partner in the conquest, marched southward in an abortive expedition to conquer present-day Chile. During Almagro’s absence Pizarro consolidated his power in Perú and when his partner returned, they fell out over the division of the spoils: a dispute over Pizarro’s claim of the rights to Cuzco. In the ensuing civil war, Pizarro prevailed at the battle of Las Salinas in 1638 and executed Almagro. However, he failed to execute Almagro’s son Diego El Mozo, who later in 1541 invaded Pizarro’s palace in Lima with the aid of supporters and assassinated him. El Mozo was installed by his confederates as governor of Perú, but shortly thereafter was defeated in the desperate battle of Chupas in September of 1542. He escaped to Cuzco, but was arrested, immediately condemned to death, and executed in the great square of the city. NOTE: It is difficult to place the Spanish conquest of the Americas in the context of Twenty-first century val-
30
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
ues. History tells us the Conquistadores committed terrible acts of cruelty, or in the best possible construct, acted with extreme indifference to human suffering. On the other hand the human experience in Europe in the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries offered no guidance for alternative conduct. The conquistadores that arrived in the Americas had left behind a Spain that had fought with terrible ferociousness to drive the Moors from the Iberian Peninsula and had completed the conquest of Andalucía virtually on the eve of Cristóbal Colón’s discovery of America. In Europe of the era leaders of modest beginnings acquired wealth and noble stature as rewards for military success and their companies thrived on loot taken in their campaigns: perhaps the first inklings of Western Civilization’s concepts of socio-economic upward mobility. It would be difficult to expect that these warriors would have altered their conduct in their campaigns in the Americas. They certainly faced the same threats of dismemberment, pain, and torture that they handed out. In that context a twenty-first century Westerner might be able to sense the extraordinary courage displayed by these early explorers and warriors, without excusing their lack of humanity. And what of the wonderment? They had never seen monumental cities as Teotihuacan in Mexico or the marvels of Cuzco or the Inca fortress of Sacsayhüaman, constructed of massive cut stones weighing as much as 300 tons. They gave credence to cities of gold and risked all to discover El Dorado. They had never imagined a river of the magnitude of the Amazon or encountered the density and extension of that river’s surrounding forests. How could they resist the temptations; the eye-popping wealth that Atahualpa brought to pay the price of his ransom or the gold and emeralds they found simply strewn over the ground around Lake Guatavita? What of the fabulous animals they discovered: llamas, serpents, tapirs, leopards, birds? What of the foods they tasted for the first time: bananas, tomatoes, cacao, maize, papayas, mangos, avocados, guanabanas, chirimoyas? Whatever their shortcomings, these adventurers were men of courage. They encountered wonders at every turn and faced dangers far beyond anything for which they had prepared themselves. They were certainly no lesser men in their time than Daniel Boone, Meriwether Lewis and William Clark, or John Glenn and Neil Armstrong in their own. Robert Drynan
Saw you in the Ojo 31
Carol D. Bradley
Email: cdbradleymex@gmail.com Phone: 33-2506-7525 “Deserve your dream.” Octavio Paz The Lake Chapala Society hosts Open Circle every Sunday at 10AM, a popular community gathering in Ajijic, to enjoy a diverse range of presentations. For more information and to make reservations, see their website: opencircleajijic.org. The presentations will be on the south lawn, close to the gazebo, the entrance will be by the side door on Ramón Corona, chairs will be socially distanced. Gate opens at 9:30. During this period, and considering our schedule may be too fluid with cancellations and changes to the schedule to inform everyone through the press, please check our website and/or our Facebook page for updates and confirmations of presentations. We recommend bringing a hat and bottled water, and please remove containers upon departure. Attendance is limited to 80 persons, please make your reservation if you want to attend https://opencircleajijic. org/reservation_form.php Use of masks and temperature checks on entry is mandatory. Again, please check with Open Circle’s website and/or Facebook page for updates and confirmations. November presentations are: November 7: Lakeside Storytellers Who doesn’t love a good story? We can’t get enough of them. Sydney Gay, co-producer of programs at The Red Piano, La Bodega, Huerto Café and the Auditorio, has brought together eight talented friends to create a storytelling showcase. Open Circle is the debut performance of the series dedicated to giving ordinary people a place to tell their extraordinary stories. Standing alone with only a microphone, each storyteller shares a five-minute, personal story, with topics ranging from life-threatening ordeals to the thrill of show business; from going to jail to escaping war and poverty. The twists and turns of life are many. Each story challenges our understanding of human emotions and motivation. Taken together they attest to the startling varieties and travails of human experience, and the shared threads of love, loss, fear and kindness that connect us. November 14: Jim Cook: Mexico Adventures Sydney Gay Jim Cook retired after 30 years of work as a union and community organizer. He and his wife Carole moved from Oregon to Ajijic, Mexico in 2007. Since his arrival, Jim has made it a point to learn as much as possible about Mexican history and culture. He and Carole have visited many of Mexico’s colonial cities and ancient pre-Hispanic ruins. They chronicle their journeys in their photo-journal blog called Jim and Carole’s Mexico Adventure. Since 2007, the blog has attracted almost two million page views from people living in over 130 countries and territories on every continent in the world including Antarctica. Jim’s stories and photos have appeared in the Ojo del Lago and other lakeside publications. In addition, his photos have been pubJim Cook lished in several books in English, Spanish, Danish and Russian. November 21: Kathryn Street: Aging in place - What does it mean? “What you are will show in what you do” Thomas A. Edison. Aging in Place is a Choice
Deciding you wish to age in place means you are choosing: ● How you want to spend your retirement years ● How you want your home to be set up ● What your health care choices will be ● What types of assistance are right for you ● What your wishes are for major life events (sickness, housing transitions, financial decisions) Making these choices gives you control over your independence, quality of life and dignity. Most importantly, aging in place does not mean you have to do everything yourself; that’s where the plan comes in. It means you get to plan how your needs are met. Biography: As a nurse with over 30 years of experience working in an assortment of departments in three different countries, I am happy to start the next phase of my career in Ajijic. Working as a global Nurse has given me respect for different cultures and personalities that I have encountered along the way. I am highly organized and confident in my abilities. I have spent the last 10 years teaching Nurses and Nursing assistants how to give quality care to the older generation, I Kathryn Street believe the core values that we practice, Honesty, Integrity, Responsibility and Respect for all ages will be apparent in the care our residents receive in Ajijic. November 28: Lila Wells, The Short Stories of Saki In the introduction to the1958 edition of The Short Stories of Saki, author Christopher Morley writes of the British writer who was born Hector Hugh Munro, “Saki could show the conversation of a few ladies at bridge [to be] as deadly and quick on the trigger of concealed weapons as a Western bar-room brawl [by American writer O. Henry.] Both were masters of surprise.” The five little gems Lila will read at Open Circle are taken from the portion of the Saki collection entitled Reginald, which were first collected in 1904, and include, appropriately, Reginald on Christmas Presents. Lila has been an amateur stage actor since the age of 16. Since moving to Lakeside in 2015. She has appeared in Nunsense at Lakeside Little Theatre, and has acted in Lila Wells and directed readings at Naked Stage Readers Theatre and Bare Stage Theatre. This is her fourth appearance at Open Circle. LITTLE LAKESIDE THEATRE presents: THE MADRES By Stephanie Alison Walker Directed by Dave McIntosh Assistant SM – Sandy Jakubek Show Dates – November 5-14, 2021 Set in the 1970’s, in the early years of Argentina’s Dirty War against its own citizens. Tens of thousands of leftists, and anyone even casually associated with them, were “disappeared”. The human cost of these actions drove mothers and grandmothers to the streets to protest weekly, demanding the release of their loved ones. A painfully high number of them were never reunited. The women became known as Las Madres. Inside one Argentinian home touched by the brutality of the regime in the late 70’s. Powerful, heartbreaking, tragically real. At its core, THE MADRES is about the strength and resilience of women. Reviews: “THE MADRES most effectively succeeds in personalizing the plight of Argentinean mothers of “disappeared” children during the height of La Guerra Sucia (The Dirty War) in CAST l-r: Jeff Kingsbury, Marsha Heaton, Nicolas Cumplido, Angelica Guerra, Liz O’Neill. 1978.” Gil Kaan – Broadway World.com. “It’s strong political theater that should not be missed. But don’t misunderstand; it’s also just strong theater, period.” Eric A. Gordon
Continued on page 36
32
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
Saw you in the Ojo 33
34
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
Saw you in the Ojo 35
Tickets will be available in October at lakesidelittletheatre.com. THIS RANDOM WORLD by Steven Dietz Show Dates: December 10-19, 2021 Directed by M.A. Bruneau Cast: Shawn Sherwood, Mark Nichols, Dani Suder, Barbara Pruitt, Roxanne Rosenblatt, Linda Gorman, Louise Ritchie Play Details: This Random World takes on the biggest questions of human life. Are our paths predetermined, or dictated by the connections we make or miss? What direction would our lives have taken if we’d stayed one moment longer and met someone new or left one moment sooner and missed meeting a person who changes us? Review: This Random World shimmers with wit, heart and a gentle but affecting wisdom. San Diego Union-Tribune Tickets, 300 Pesos, will be available at lakesidelittletheatre.com. All Covid required restrictions will be in place. Afterplay is Brien Friel’s brilliantly droll take on what would happen if two characters from different plays meet in a cafe by chance some 20 years later for what becomes another play entirely! Will this playwright allow them to fulfill their hopes and dreams? Should they reveal their true selves or re-invent themselves in order to be more attractive to each other? Two characters from different plays, their lives radiating with a past and present. Perhaps even a future. But, no reason to rush into that possibility when the here and now pulsates with a bit of cat and mouse foreplay from two characters (or people) longing for a better, fuller, more satisfying life from their current author. This one act play will be presented at The BRAVO! Theatre starring Roseann and Anthony Wilshere, directed by Bernadette Jones starting Friday November 5th. Shows are Nov 5, 7, 12, 13, 14 at 3:00PM with one evening performance on Saturday Nov 6th at 7:00PM. Masks are Mandatory! Seating is limited. Tickets are $350 available at It’s Kinda Bazar...and Mia’s BouAnthony and Roseann Wilshere tique or by email at mymytickets@gmail.com. Cultural Centro Ajijic on the Ajijic Plaza Principal: PHOTOGRAPHY AS ART and YOU are Invited! Come see a spectacular display of photographic art at the Ajijic Cultural Center from noted artists Jill Flyer, Luis Mancera McCormick and Karen Spencer. These nationally and internationally renowned photographers will each be showing their unique and different styles of photography: Abstracts, Portraits, Landscapes, using both images in Color and Black & White. The show runs from November 5th through November 16th. Come meet the artists. We will be happy to talk to you and discuss our work and the techniques and tools we use to achieve our results. A “good eye” and composition skills are prime. But it is a years-long journey to produce an award winning photograph, expertly achieved through manipulation and enhancement. For more information, write to Jill Flyer, fotoflyer2003@yahoo.com Diane Pearl Arts & Activities Center For details and registration, please contact Diane Pearl dianepearlmexico@gmail.com, 376-766-5683, www.dianepearl.com Sta. Margarita 23, Riberas Del Pilar (The New Downtown), Mon-Sat 11-4 One block up from Pancho’s Market, Turn mountainside at ORMA’s Auto Parts, then first right. GELLI PRINTING WORKSHOPS with Dr. Blanca Ruth Casanova
36
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
BEGINNER TWO-PART WORKSHOP November 8 & 15 (Mondays) 11am – 1pm Learn how to do monoprints on gelatin with acrylics; this fun technique creates surprising and beautiful results. No experience necessary. Cost for 2-class series: 800 pesos + Cost for reusable materials: 1,300 pesos ADVANCED WORKSHOPS November 17 & 24, December 1 & 8 (Wednesdays) 11am – 1pm For students with basic practical knowledge of Gelli monoprinting. Please bring your materials to class (Gelli plate, brayer, and acrylics). Cost per class: 400 pesos Teacher: Dr. Blanca Ruth Casanova, Ph.D., Art Educator and Visual Artist MATA ORTIZ CERAMICS MASTERCLASS with José Loya November 9, 10 & 11 11am - 3pm In this three-day workshop, you will learn preColombian and contemporary pottery techniques. Mata Ortiz pottery is based on the prehistoric Paquimé techniques found at the Casas Grandes World Heritage Site in the state of Chihuahua. In this workshop you will be hand building a pre-Columbian style pot from your own handmade single piece mould. Pots will be finished using Mata Ortiz glazes and hand-made brushes. Pots will be fired on location. All materials, clay, plaster, brushes, glazes are supplied. No experience necessary. Instructor: José Loya, Mata Ortiz Pottery Master Cost for 3-day workshop: 1500 pesos ALCOHOL INKS WORKSHOP with Nancy Van Reeth Tuesday, November 16 1 - 3:30pm Discover the wonders of Alcohol Ink! These vivid, nontoxic, acid-free inks react with alcohol to create a collage of color that will surprise you as the inks bleed and interact with each other. You will create your choice of abstract or detailed art suitable for framing, or greeting cards using “plastic paper”, or tile coasters, ceramic coffee cups, small trinket holders, or wearable art such as earrings and pendants. No experience necessary. Teacher: Nancy Van Reeth, Artist and Graphic Designer Cost: 500 pesos; Includes two pairs of earrings and one pendant; Fee list for coasters, mugs, and other items available IMPROVISED APPLIQUÉ TWO-PART WORKSHOP with Mary Ruzich November 17 & 24 (Wednesdays) 11am – 1pm Learn the fundamentals of appliqué and make a unique textile artwork in two sessions. You will learn simple stitches, appliqué construction, textile embellishment and elements of design. No experience necessary. Instructor: Mary Ruzich, textile artist, educator and leader of the Tepehua Sewing Group Cost for two sessions: 800 pesos; materials provided.
Saw you in the Ojo 37
COLUMNIST
Verdant View By Francisco Nava
Harvest - A Family Affair
I
stand, face smiling towards the sun, with my toes deep in the dark, rich soil that I’ve prepared for my heirloom seed babies, loving the luxurious feel under my feet of the moist recipe of compost, worm castings and Ana Luz’s biodynamic worm tea-plant tonic. My toes wiggling with ecstatic happiness, I say “I now place you in this fertile medium to grow lush, healthy, tall and nutritious. You will feed our families, friends and community.” Holding my arms up to the universe, I sing and dance for rain to arrive soon. I water and tend to my seedlings daily, giving thanks to Gaia for allowing us all to grow. In Native American tradition I state my intent and ask permission. The plants say they appreciate the efforts and reciprocate by growing into beautiful, healthy beings. Days come and go and we arrive at harvest. Once again I state my intent and ask permission to take plump zucchini squash gloriously green, to pick lovely tomatoes bursting with flavor, to harvest pearls of peas and intensely flavored carrots. The garden has been my daily destination and the plants my intimate friends. The insects arriving and leaving like holiday visiting relatives, serving a purpose and hopefully not staying long. The gift bearing uncles, Tlaloc and Ehecatl, provide rain and winds to water my plants and help clear the skies of clouds when sunshine is needed. I can truly say that a garden is a fam-
38
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
ily affair. Without the support of just one member we are less powerful and less able to work together to blossom and nurture each other. Together we are stronger. May this harvest season bring you bounty and keep your family healthy and strong. If you want to make anything grow, you must understand it and understand it in a very real sense. “Growing Fingers” are a fact and a mystery only to the unpracticed. But green fingers are an extension of a verdant heart. - Russell Page, The Education of a Gardener What to plant in November The weather is cool in the daytime and sometimes cold at night. At the viveros look for snapdragons, stocks, fuchsias, poinsettias (Nochebuenas), pansies, petunias and phlox. Sweet peas may begin blooming. You can still plant lettuce, peas, kohl rabi, spinach and Swiss chard, beets, carrots, garlic, lettuce, mustard, onion, parsley, radish, spinach, turnips, and herbs, lettuce, broccoli, kale. Start dahlia, alyssum, mallow and poppy seeds now. Mist fuchsias and water garden regularly, keeping in mind that the native plants know how to deal with the dry seasons. Most orchids can take more sun now. Order seed catalogues for next year and begin planning. Now is a very good time to get the garden cleaned up for winter. Fill in bare spots with blooming plants from the viveros and plant sellers. Many plants are going into their dormancy period and fall is a good time to prune. Winter is a good time to prune large trees, shrubs and small trees. Deciduous foliage is absent and helps make pruning more visible and reduces clean up material. And lastly, I’ve recently been working on a garden video series for the Lake Chapala Garden Club and would like to invite you to view our efFrancisco Nava forts. https://www.lakechapalagardenclub. org/garden-tours
Saw you in the Ojo 39
COLUMNIST
Unsung Heroes By Queen D. Michele queendmichele@yahoo.com
T
here’s a saying that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. So true is the case of North Shore locals Mariana Kyle Rivera and her mother Fabiola Rivera Gonzalez. Their story of determination and courage began once mom was diagnosed with a debilitating degenerative disease, in Spanish called Spondylitis Anquilosante. Her prognosis was not good, and the medication she was taking had horrible side effects. Fabiola, determined not to let the disease get the best of her, began studying and looking to replace her medications through more holistic and natural ways. During her research, she discovered a little village in Argentina where honey farmers were extracting from bees healing properties that they make naturally. These properties are extracted from the Melipona bee, native to warm areas of the neotropics ranging from
40
Mariana Kyle Rivera Sinaloa and Tamaulipas (Mexico) to Tucuman and Misiones (Argentina). Fabiola set out to learn all that she could about the healing properties and began her own regimen of ingestion.
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
Coincidently, Fabiola’s husband once worked on a Melipona bee farm with his family before moving to Guadalajara. His knowledge was instrumental in helping Fabiola with her regimen. Over time, Fabiola’s symptoms became lighter and lighter which allowed for a better quality of life. Mariana, bearing firsthand witness to her mom’s research and subsequent ease in her symptoms, came to understand the scarceness of bees. She felt their natural healing properties had literally saved her mother’s life. There came a time when Mariana, armed with her mother’s courageous spirit, would help sustain an entire bee farming community. The Kito Community is made up of descendants of an ancient Maya tribe. Many descendants are still tending honey farms in that Yucatan region. This is the region where Mariana’s father’s family is from, and where he once worked before moving his family to Jalisco. One day, Mariana’s father told her about the plight his family and friends were facing back in the Yucatan region. They were closing the bee farms! This would cause a terrible economic blow to many families. Mariana, determined to preserve the Maya Kito Tribe traditions and maintain a thriving bee community, began looking for ways of sustainability. There were two main components that assisted Mariana in
saving the bee farms from going under; it was her father’s knowledge about bee farms and her husband’s financial backing. Loaded with knowledge and money, Mariana pulled the trigger. As a result, the families in the Kito Community were equipped with whatever was needed to continue bee farming. Today, Mariana is now a beekeeper… there’s that apple falling. Mariana named the honey Abeja Reina (Queen Bee) ~Tesoro Maya (Treasure Maya). A beautiful balance for the Maya civilization that has been extracting honey and the healing properties of bees for centuries. It continues to be a part of their ancestral gift to this planet. Mariana always says, “Queen is the bee! They are the small engine of our ecosystem, because without them we would not have oxygen, plants, food, or life!” Mariana’s light shines bright as she endeavors to not only share the wonderful taste of Earth’s natural elixir, honey, but also the knowledge of their importance to our planet. A true Lakeside unsung hero, you can inquire about Mariana’s honey at ar.tesoromaya@ gmail.com Cell and WhatsApp (33) 11488531 Queen D. Michele
Saw you in the Ojo 41
The View From The Treehouse Dr. Lorin Swinehart
M
“
en will become poor because they will not have a love for trees….If you don’t love trees, you don’t love God.” St. Nikephoros of Chios It was actually more of a tree platform than a treehouse, a plain square board nailed into the fork of a huge box elder in our backyard overlooking the neighbor’s cow pasture. There were three trees in a row alongside the line fence, and we neighborhood kids had similar tree houses in all three. Yet, my treehouse was a place of solitude most of the time. It was per-
42
haps ten or twelve feet above the ground, but somehow I took smug satisfaction in my belief that nothing could get to me up there. When you are up in a tree, you can enjoy the companionship of other trees. Treetops become your neighbors. A good, serene place to while away summer hours while watching cows grazing contentedly in the adjoining pasture and the wind wafting across nearby fields of wheat and oats, creating waves that resemble those on large bodies of water. I was free to indulge my boyhood fantasies of living a wild free life in a tree like Tarzan or Bomba the Jungle Boy. Bomba was accompanied by a
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
friendly monkey and Tarzan had his simian buddy Cheetah, a loyal chimpanzee. I had to be satisfied with my terrier Buddy, whose dog house was beneath the next tree. Of course, Cheetah and the monkey could swing on lianas among the treetops with their human companions, while Buddy could not. My dad worked as a shipping clerk for a local manufacturer of pumps. Sometimes, he brought home large numbers of surplus narrow leather rings called pump suckers that were no longer being used by the manufacturer. Those, he wove together into pump sucker whips, which we could go around cracking like Indiana Jones. One lengthy pump sucker whip was knotted onto my favorite limb, enabling us to swing about as though in a rainforest. For communication purposes, we had tin can telephones strung from tree to tree. We imagined that we could actually sense sound waves running along the lengths of the attached kite string as we dispatched secret messages back and forth. It would never have occurred to me that the trees themselves could transmit messages to one another It has been said many times that two lovers recognize themselves in one another. In a similar sense, we may recognize our kinship with our fellow creatures. DNA analysis has enabled us to better comprehend the relationships between all living things. We now know that we humans share 98.9% of our DNA with our nearest mammalian relatives, chimpanzees and 98.7% with the chimps’ lookalike bonobos. In his latest publication Four Fifths Grizzly, biologist Douglas Chadwick reminds us that humans share 80-90% of our DNA with Ursa arctos horribillis. He goes on to point out that we share 84% of our DNA with man’s best friend, the dog, 85% with pesky mice, 85% with cattle, 7% with bacteria and 18% with bakers’ yeast. Turning from fauna to flora, how closely related are we to trees and other plant life. The difference between a molecule of chlorophyll and a molecule of hemoglobin amounts to only a single atom, one of magnesium to provide chlorophyll for plants and one of iron for animals. Atoms of oxygen, nitrogen, carbon and hydrogen coalesce around each. We humans are biologically akin to all living things, even trees. The world’s great religions teach that all men are brothers. Biologically, all living things are related, even those creatures we would rather not think about, the black mamba and the brown recluse, for instance. We
share DNA with those fell creatures as well as with more friendly puppies and bunny rabbits. The writings of German botanist and forester Peter Wohlleben have shaken up the scientific world in recent years, causing sometimes uncomfortable questions to be asked, such as whether or not plants feel pain. Wohlleben suggests that trees communicate with one another, a groundbreaking view in itself. In his book The Hidden Life of Trees, Wohlleben goes on to say that trees warn one another of impending threats and share nutrients with ailing or wounded others nearby, a bizarre concept to many, but not surprising to the ancient Celts or to some Native American cultures such as the Ojibwe or the Potawatomi, those much wiser for living lives in close proximity to nature. A recent article in The Science Times reports on research with plants conducted at Tel Aviv University. The results are, to say the least, startling. Plants emit high frequency sounds when subjected to stress. Plants that have been denied water or that have had stems severed emit ultrasonic noise, between 20 and 100 kilohertz, and send out distress signals to other plants. When, for instance, a tomato plant’s stem was cut, it sent out 25 stress sounds per hour. Some plants register pain when leaves are plucked. Some release unsavory tasting chemicals when threatened, probably to repel insects. In the King Arthur legend, it is said that the Druidic seer Merlin would converse with the blades of grass while crossing a meadow. In reality, grass that has been recently cut emits chemical distress signals, creating the fragrance we associate with, for instance, a newly mowed lawn or field of alfalfa. Other research at the University of Missouri in Columbia has revealed that plants respond to the sound of chewing while being eaten by insects or caterpillars. Plants create chemical responses in order to poison enemies or warn other plants of danger. Some emit signal reactions in order to attract beneficial insects. If a tree is a sentient being, then a forest is a living entity. Whenever we scale a fence to enter a wood, if we are aware, we are immersing ourselves in life itself, inundated with Spirit, much like Emerson’s concept in his essay “The Oversoul”. Given such realities, how, then, are we to live, given that all living things are both eaters and eaten, including humans. With our elevated powers of reason, we are probably the only creatures who can limit our footprint upon the creation, Continued on page 44
Saw you in the Ojo 43
From page 42
place restrictions upon the amount of pain and destruction we cause, develop a more kindly and sensitive view of the world around us, cliches and platitudes no less accurate for being so. Our vandalistic treatment of trees stands as horrific affirmation of the dark side of the human character, that typified by cruelty, rapacity, greed, and mindlessness, the obsession with immediate gratification, enthralled by an image of ourselves as special entities separate from the rest of the natural world. Truth be told, we humans could not survive without trees. Trees provide more than lumber, construction materials, firewood, and wood pulp for paper. Trees provide food, carbon storage, energy production, and prevent soil erosion as well as providing places of spiritual peace and renewal. It is estimated that there may be up to 3 trillion trees existing on the earth today. And yet, an estimated 24,000 square miles of Amazon rainforest have been destroyed by human activities over the course of the last ten years. Other rainforests in the Congo region of Africa and Southeast Asia, even Australia continue to be decimated by humans, while forests in temperate zones in the US, Canada and elsewhere are being tragically and violently clear-cut. Attempts are being made to reforest parts of the world. In 2019, Ethiopia planted 352 million seedlings, while India planted 220 million during the same year. The Trees for Jane program, a UN initiative to plant 1 trillion new trees before 2030, is being fostered by the worldfamous primatologist Jane Goodall. And yet, Goodall quotes an old Chinese proverb that the best time to plant a tree is twenty years ago. It takes time for trees to grow to maturity, years during which the massacre of the world’s forests continues. Unlike the world of Middle Earth de-
44
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
picted by J.R.R. Tolkien, we have no entities like the giant ent Treebeard to protect trees. As a boy sitting high in my silvan sanctuary in my parents’ backyard, as fascinated by jungles and the creatures who inhabit them as I was, I am sure that I had no clue as to the fragile nature of the trees we lived among. With age comes awareness, and with awareness comes responsibility. As Dr. Seuss’s character the Lorax warns, “Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot nothing is going to get better. It’s not.” A few days ago, my wife LaVon and I picked eleven bushels of apples in a friend’s orchard, bountiful gifts of the trees that would otherwise have gone unharvested and unappreciated by passersby. Apples, walnuts, pinion nuts, almonds, pecans, bananas, all fruits and nuts as well as botanicals, perhaps many yet to be discovered, that ease pain and treat serious medical conditions, are manifestations of the generosity of trees. Over the years, I have inwardly and sometimes outwardly winced at the sight of a living tree being pared back to make room for power lines, sometimes chopped down altogether in the name of someone’s distorted concept of progress, but I did not consider that the horribly dismembered trees had experienced pain. The old tree that once held my treehouse still stands in the corner of what was once my parents’ backyard. During those carefree summer days of my youth, it would never have occurred to me that the spikes my dad drove into the tree’s flesh may have caused it pain. In fact, such a possibility had never occurred to me until quite recently. Lorin Swinehart
Saw you in the Ojo 45
Veterans’ Day By Robert Drynan
Korean War Memorial, Washington D.C.
A
patrol moves silently through the perimeter. The darkness shrouds their movement and the cascading rain muffles their progress. It’s a large patrol, a dozen men, led by a sergeant who has been in the line for eight months. Occasionally lightning in the distance glints off the shinny surfaces of their rain gear. They still move single file, led by the point man who has been on patrols for the past year, and knows his way through the mine field by rote. Back in the file, a man shifts his weapon to the opposite hand and takes the arm of the soldier in front of him, a newcomer to the unit, and guides him through the process of avoiding the deadly defensive weapons. They emerge from the mine field and enter a new danger zone. The sergeant taps the man in front, signals him to stop and pass the word on, puts a hand on his radioman to halt him and moves back through the patrol gesturing to them to spread out. He reaches the newbie and notes the hand of the veteran on his arm, nods and moves on. The sergeant returns to the middle of the formation and whispers loudly, “Move out.” Each man has assumed his rehearsed position, knows his areas of responsibility in the tactical sweep. Knows where the next man is located, the location of the men who will cover his back, and that of the men whose backs he will cover. They all rely on the point man’s
46
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
ability to spot trouble and on the rearmost to cover their back trail. This is an infantry patrol. It could be Virginia in 1863, Mindanao in 1901, the Argonne in 1918, Guadalcanal in 1942, Korea in 1950, Vietnam in 1968 or Afghanistan in 2013. Small unit tactics change, adapt to technology, geography, and idiosyncrasies of the adversary. But one thing has never changed. The members of the patrol develop a deep sense of cohesion; each member relies on the others, as the others rely on him. The story could be of a fighter pilot and wingman. It could be AA gunners on warships. It could be a radar technician, or an electronics specialist in a CIC. It could be a supply sergeant or an armorer in a support role. It could be a nurse in a field hospital. Wherever, whenever, they were rigorously trained and perhaps at some time subjected to the stresses of the real thing, the varmint. But most important each received a responsibility the failure of which could have catastrophic consequences for those depending upon him; and consequences for him, if others upon whom he depended failed in their responsibilities to him. That experience changed all of them forever. *** At coffee one morning in Ajijic a poll among American retirees produced the following results: 4 served in the Army, 2 in the Marine Corps, 1 in the Navy and 2 in the Air Force. One did not serve in our military, but he had held a critical job with access to nuclear secrets, prohibiting his exposure to military service. *** In our Lakeside community for a large share of our male population and many of our women, the preceding anecdote, in training, or within reach of the varmint, was a seminal event. It reflected in the remainder of our lives: the workplace, among friends, in the way we raised our children. Salute our veterans on November 11th. Their freedoms are not just a birthright; they have earned them. Robert Drynan
Saw you in the Ojo 47
A Dog Named Socrates By Don Beaudreau wbeaudreau@aol.com
O
nce upon a time, a dog of independent mind strolled this planet, refusing to think, feel, or act a certain way simply because other dogs were doing so. His way of relating to the world began during birth, when his eight siblings fought for top exiting position. Instead of joining in that dog fight, our puppy Socrates, merely observed the conflict. When there were no others left to go down the matriarchal chute into the light of day, he easily slid on through — much to the amazement of his mother, who
48
thought she had finished. She noted that unlike her other new pups, this one was injury-free, did not fight for position onto one of her teats, and had wide-open eyes that moved around the room, but were mostly focused on her. “I’ll wait my turn, Martha,” he told her in well-enunciated English. His mother did not understand a word of what he said, because she was, in fact, a dog. Nor did she know that her name was Martha. What she did know, was that this pup was not like his brothers and sisters, or like any of the other pups in all the many litters she had produced before this one. Indeed, every time she urged him to fight for his right to suckle one of her teats, she heard him make this same odd sound, or ones similar to it. But eventually the other pups had their fill of Mom’s life-sustaining milk shake, and drifted off to sleep. That is when Socrates strutted over to Martha, and observing which teat of hers might need his assistance, looked up at her and said, “May I?” She merely smiled at yet another odd sound coming from him, and then felt his lips upon her. Gentle lips, not like the lips of any of her other kids… As the days went by, Socrates
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
preferred his own company to that of his family’s. He did, of course, continue to relate to his mother — always waiting his turn at her fountain. And always asking her before he indulged: “May I?” His eight brothers and sisters thought him odd in his waiting his turn, but were only too happy because this meant one less dog fight over their place in the buffet line. And after a while, they didn’t care or even notice that his responses to life were different from theirs. He didn’t bark, whine, or growl; nor did he frolic with them, chase his own tail, or try to bite them. He was no fun at all, they thought. Martha was busy enough without adding the role of therapist to her duties. But one day she commented on Socrates’s behavior to George, the father of her children. He merely suggested to her that she wait and see what would happen. That day arrived soon enough. It even had a name, as observed on the front lawn sign: FREE PUPPIES HERE TODAY! It was all over very soon, when his brother and sisters we chosen to begin their lives with their new families. Not that he cared if he ever saw any of them again. As long as he had Martha around to keep him from starving, he would be fine. Although later that afternoon when he attempted to nap for the first time in his life without his brothers and sisters around, Socrates felt uncomfortable. It was too quiet! Not a whimper, not a grunt. So he couldn’t sleep! After a couple hours of restlessness, he began to wonder how things were going for his siblings. They all were so excited when picked by humans who seemed equally excited to welcome them into a new home. But Socrates didn’t really care that he wasn’t chosen. Did he? He certainly did not play the cute-and-adorable puppy game the way the others did in order to be picked. Instead, he just watched while this foolishness went on. He did not whimper in supplication to be noticed; he did not lick any human’s hand as a token of adoration; he did not allow anybody to touch him. Whenever he saw the possibility of the latter occurring, he scurried away as far as he could, and then turned his back toward that person as his way of avoidance. Truly, all those overly stimulated adults and children were causing so much commotion! Running around the outside of the little fenced-in area where his brothers, sisters, and he were! Watching their every move; deciding their fate: “Look how cute that one is!”
“Oh, I really like that other one!” “Her coloring doesn’t match the furniture!” “Oh, look! He’s jumping up and down!” “What’s wrong with that one over there? Is he dead?” The last comment was made about Socrates, of course. The dog of independent mind. Socrates had avoided being picked a number of times, until he realized that his last sibling had been scooped up, and there were no more people around. He was, in fact, alone. But then, wasn’t that what he had wanted all along? Still, that did not explain how sad and uneasy he was feeling now. And he wondered how Martha and George were feeling about losing their family — well, except for losing him. But then, neither one of his parents ever seemed to care about him. Indeed, he knew that he was not somebody who was easy to care about. He was contemplating all this and was beginning to wonder what his life would be like now and into the future, to the point of his getting a bit sad, when he heard a tiny cough, and when he looked up from his revelry to see who had made the sound, he saw a little boy, who perhaps was six years old, standing behind the small fence that separated him from the puppy. The boy’s eyes were cast down. Socrates noted that the kid looked as equally forlorn as he, himself, felt. He saw that the boy wore glasses, and was not just forlorn, but shy. Socrates saw that there was a woman and a man who stood a little bit behind the child, who he presumed were the kid’s parents. They watched him to see how he would react to the puppy. Socrates looked at the boy with wonder and curiosity—two feelings he had never experienced. And not understanding why, he felt compelled to move toward the boy. When he did, he caught the boy looking at him. And suddenly the boy smiled. And the puppy felt another new feeling: connection. Then he saw the kid turn around to his parents and say to them excitedly: “Mommy! Daddy! Can we bring him home! He told me he wants to come home with us!” His parents were smiling now, too, and when his mother asked him what he was going to call the pup, the boy answered, “He already has a name!” “Oh?” wondered his father. “How do you know that?” asked his mother. “He told me, of course! His name is Socrates!”
Saw you in the Ojo 49
The Life of Santiago By Zofia Barisas
I
t was a Tuesday late afternoon. I was watching the Conferencia de Prensa Sobre COVID 19 with Dr. Lopez Gatell and Dr. Alomia. Suddenly I heard a long scream from outside, followed by a deep silence and then the sound of many voices. I went to look out my bedroom window that overlooks the street. There was a small body lying next to the gates at the end of my driveway. I thought ‘it’s one of the construction workers, one of small stature.’ It was hard to gauge the size of him, and how badly injured he was, from the distance I was at and the fact it was approaching dusk. The body was
50
lying on earth and gravel at the intersection of two streets. The street coming down the slope of the mountain had been recently repaved in cement, with stones embedded in it, and planters for trees alongside. Children came in the afternoon with plastic carts, and rolled down and came up and rolled down again. A huge house was being built on the second lot above my place on the mountain side and another house was being built right behind my house, a meter away. Trucks were constantly bringing building materials and other trucks were taking away piles of rocks and earth. Young men, from the rehabilitation center, were brought in ev-
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
ery morning in pickup trucks to do the rough work. Gabriel, the young man who lived rough in the disused lot next to my house, was walking by. He took off his jacket and lay it over the small body. The small body never moved, never made another sound. Two ambulances came within minutes, one big, one small, brand new, followed by five police cars. There was a big truck, engine still running, next to my driveway stone wall. It was one of the many trucks used to deliver construction materials to the two sites. The policemen were all in spotless, well-fitting uniforms, all the vehicles were of the latest vintage, like something out of an American movie. They sealed off the streets, put up bright lights. A young girl, about 14, was screaming, her back pressed to the brick wall of the house across the street. I, a foreigner, stood back from the French doors to my balcony that overlooks the street, not wanting to intrude in this time of deep grief, not wanting to be seen watching. She was trying to run to the body. A young man stood in front of her, arms wide open, keeping her from going. She kept on screaming. She never stopped. More people came. The street was full. More women were crying and keening. A man, probably the father, stood alone, surrounded by people, tears running down his face, making no sound. He walked to the police tape that sealed off access. He wanted to go to the body but the police refused to let him in. He stood, weeping, looking at the body on the ground. The body was that of an 11 yearold boy. He had been coming down the street on his bicycle, coming down the mountain, and the truck coming along the cross street had run over him. There is a two-meter high brick wall that goes right to the corner and continues up the other side. There is no way the truck driver could have seen the boy riding down. I heard later that the driver had run away. A big tow truck came. More people had arrived and they all stood there, some weeping, some loudly moaning, some talking low. Three hours the police were there. The ambulance had taken the boy’s body away. The engine of the construction truck was still running. It started raining. The truck was taken away, the police cars left, the people dispersed. How unexpectedly a small life had been taken, leaving a wealth of grief. The following day I drove my car out of the driveway to go buy milk, bread, fruit and vegetables. There was a small construction of loose
bricks in two separate piles, with roof tiles bridging them and lit candles in glasses inside. On top of the roof tiles was a crucifix leaning against my wall and next to it a statuette of the Virgin Mary and a fresh rose in a vase. On my property in a way, on the cobblestone sidewalk I had had built. I thought of my need for order and privacy and I thought of an 11-year-old boy and I thought of a grieving family. Later in the evening I heard a clear woman’s voice praying, every sentence starting with ‘Santa Maria, Madre de Dios’, a litany. The voice, the makeshift altar near the place of death, that way of grieving, everything felt deeply right about it. She came to pray at the same time the next day, just as the sun was going down, the same time the boy had died. I saw her standing looking at the small altar, as if she were seeing him there. Every day she came and prayed and I felt comforted by her voice and her presence. A few days later a man and a boy with a bucket arrived and built a small cement base and put up a metal frame against my wall on which was written the boy’s name, Santiago, with his surnames, and the date of his birth and the date of his death. The same information was scratched into the fresh cement. A permanent shrine. A couple of days after that I respectfully (in my heart) took away the nearly empty bottle of orange pop that had been left in my planter that holds the bugambilia plant that grows over the arches over my gate. I also took away the broken glass, half filled with sand that was there, and neatly piled the bricks that were left loose. And I left a small pile of colorful tiles I had leftover, on the edge of my planter, in case they would like to use them to cover the bare cement. I was nearly finished when a young girl about twelve came up the street and asked me if she could light the candles. “Si, of course,” I said. “Was he your brother?” “He was my cousin,” she said. “From Jocotepec?” “No, Nestipac.” She seemed very mature for her age. I looked for words to express my sympathy but none came that would not be trite or artificial. “Es muy triste,” I finally said. “Si,” she said. The children who used to come up and roll down the hill in their carts every late afternoon no longer came. The mothers had put a stop to that. Construction resumed on the two houses. Trucks came and went throughout the day. When the workday was done, Santiago’s friends came to the shrine Continued on page 52
Saw you in the Ojo 51
From page 50
and talked and played and kept him company. Sometimes men came and sat on the boulder nearby, that was embedded in the sidewalk, and talked and left empty beer cans. Some days I left small potted plants on the boulder, free to anybody who wanted them. The last two I had left were now on Santiago’s altar. On the Day of the Dead the family held a big party at Santiago’s shrine. There was eating and drinking and loud music and singing that went on for many hours. On his birthday in February there was another celebration with a great many people. Bunches of balloons were taped to the wall and attached to the ‘bugambilia’. A big teddy bear sat on the bricks. The shrine was full of small, bright-colored metal cars and two plastic guns leaned on the statue of the Virgin Mary. A bouquet of flowers lay below his name. “His body is buried in the cemetery,” I said to Raquel who keeps my house in order. “Do the family and friends not want to celebrate there?” “It’s the custom in Mexico to remember the person who died at the place of death,” she said. I thought about this later, trying with my Lithuanian mind, raised in French Canada, to understand a Mexican custom. I understood—and I might be wrong—that this is where Santiago’s earthly life left him, that this is where his soul rose free, so this is the place to come to. The body in the cemetery is but a decaying shell. An old man started walking over in early morning to water the two plants and to stand for a few moments looking at the shrine. He walked slowly, with pains of old age. He was one of the old world Mexican men, tall, slim, neatly dressed, obviously well cared for by his family, courteous and friendly. I met him twice a week when I went
52
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
out to water the two ‘bugambilias’ on either side of my gates. The few words we exchanged left me feeling good. He reminded me of the world of civility and kindness that I grew up in. He has stopped coming. I wonder if he is ill, if he is still alive. I am old myself, with my own assortment of emerging physical and mental malfunctions. When I water my plants I also water the two plants on the shrine. And I think of Santiago whom I never met and think of my three sons and my four grandchildren, all of them healthy, with good lives, and wonder what runs it all. It doesn’t seem possible that it’s all random. It’s been two years now since the accident. The shrine has grown dingy, the toys dirty and in a mess, a lump of something rotten and smelly is inside. Four bricks are missing so there’s not enough height to hold up the roof tiles. Decay. The end of something that has had its time. And then, looking up my wall above the altar, on top of the roll of razor wire that runs along it, I see a dingy cloth doll with the head and hands and feet torn off. Thoughts of witchcraft. This is a very old country. Some people still distrust the foreigner. To some, a woman living alone is suspect. For a while I have sense of danger, in the one lived-in house on the whole block, surrounded by houses under construction and empty lots at the foot of the mountain. In the morning I go out to the shrine and clean it out, put all items in order and take down the doll. It feels good to make order. There is nothing sinister about any of it. The doll might be a prank to scare me, something young boys would do, nudging each other. Santiago lives on in the hearts and minds of people who love him. Beautiful, sunny day. Flowers everywhere. Zofia Barisas
Ida’s Ghost By Tom Nussbaum
I
t was late at night just before Halloween. 1968. Maybe ‘69. Several of us were crammed into a small, third-floor bedroom in our college fraternity house talking. The conversation meandered, appropriately, to scary events in our lives. Power outages. Near-miss car accidents. Unexplained phenomena. Ghost stories. “My aunt,” Jack said, “periodically wakes up to see her mother standing in the darkened bedroom. My grandmother has been dead for years.” “So,” one of us asked, “your aunt sees ghosts?” “Just the one. And hears it. It groans my aunt’s name. ‘Ida. Ida,’ it pleads in a painful, haunting rasp.” “Has your aunt demonstrated that she’s crazy in any other ways?” one of us asked. We all laughed. “Pee break,” Jack announced and dashed out of the room. The stories continued. One fraternity brother related witnessing a football player from his high school breaking his leg in a game. “I could see the protruding bone,” he said. “I still see it.” Another brother told the tale of unexpectedly coming upon a cluster of bats during a late dusk walk down a shadowy alley. A third de-
scribed a haunted house a local radio station created every Halloween in his home town. A startling noise against the window interrupted the conversation. Whether seated or standing, we jumped in unison. “Was that a bird?” Another bang against the window triggered another group heart palpitation “That sounded like a rock. A pebble.” We stared at the window and realized we could hear a muffled voice. Calling. Groaning. Aching. I leapt to the window and looked down into the unlit passageway between our place and the neighboring boarding house. There was Jack, covered in a white sheet, a flashlight glowing from under the linen. Jack was gyrating like a disjointed ghost. “Ida! Ida!” he howled. To this day, I don’t know if Ida really existed or, if she did, had she really seen ghosts, or if Jack had masterfully set-up all of us. But it is a Halloween tale that has humorously haunted me for decades. Tom Nussbaum
Saw you in the Ojo 53
COLUMNIST
Ignacio Allende By David Ellison
W
hat if? If only…. Captain Ignacio Allende is the forgotten hero of the Mexican War for Independence. Born to a wealthy Criollo (Americanborn Spanish) family, he quickly distinguished himself as a courageous military officer in the army of New Spain. Even so, he hoped the colony would one day become its own independent nation, finally free from Spanish domination, exploitation, and oppression. He joined the Querétaro Conspiracy, and was soon chosen, along with fellow officer Juan Aldama, to lead the military revolt. But that’s not what happened. When the conspiracy was betrayed, fellow conspirator Father Miguel Hidalgo hastily ignited the uprising months prematurely. With his famous Grito de Dolores, he inflamed his parishioners who began more of a wild rampage than an idealistic revolution. Allende, now second in command to Hidalgo, recruited and led the soldiers in the ranks. He cautioned that what the revolution needed was a disciplined, well-armed army, not an unruly mob of peasants with pitchforks. He argued as well that Hidalgo should focus on the narrow goal of independence, instead of frightening off allies with his proclamations of radical social reform. Lacking Allende’s military experience and awed by the sheer numbers who thronged to the cause, Hidalgo believed they were invincible. And he either was incapable of or chose not to restrain the massive rabble when it vented its long-simmering rage with
54
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
looting and massacre. Allende was furious, especially since such atrocities only convinced most Criollos to oppose the revolution. He became nearly apoplectic when, just outside Mexico City, with victory theirs for the grasping, Hidalgo suddenly lost his nerve and ordered a retreat. A relatively small Spanish force eventually caught up and, thanks to superior weapons and training, and especially to a lucky shot that blew up the insurgents’ munitions causing mayhem behind the rebel lines, it won the battle. Allende finally replaced Hidalgo as commander in chief of the revolution. He led the survivors north, hopeful that the United States might offer aid. But it was too late. Allende, Hidalgo and several other commanders were betrayed again, captured, tried, and executed. What if? If only…. The city of San Miguel was renamed in Allende’s honor.
ASTROLYNX By Juan Sacelli
November Report
T
he heavy retrograde (review) energies of early October lie behind us; now the wheels of fate begin to grind inexorably forward. November opens with a Scorpio New Moon (Nov 4 4:14 pm CDT) directly opposite retrograde Uranus. Scorpio’s intensity confronts the ‘earth changes’ we are going through. Whether that’s the weather, politics, or your own personal determination to dig deeper into yourself, you are being reminded that you must find your own place of integrity in the context of greater forces sweeping through the collective. Let’s break down the word ‘Scorpio’ for a moment Score (hit the target) pi (the ratio of the circumfer-
ence of a circle to its diameter) o (the circle itself). In other words, we must know where we are individually in terms of our relation to the bigger picture, the circle, the whole. And here, in relation to Uranus (your ass) in Taurus (the Tao R Us), we’d better be sure we know who we are, individually and collectively, or the massive forces of both awakening and destruction sweeping through our world will sweep us under. The retrograde aspect (appearance of backward motion in the sky) of Uranus means we’re still trying to catch up with what has already happened. We still have time to figure it out. But not a lot of time. By the Taurus Eclipse Full Moon
of Nov 19, Eclipse Season is upon us. This ‘blood moon’, peaking at 3:02 am Central, will be a partial eclipse visible through most of the Americas (more visible in the west than the east). What is the astrological implication of an eclipse? I like to use the analogy of a railroad switching yard. The engine enters the turntable from a particular direction. But after the table turns, the direction may well have changed. The train may be going at varying angles to its original direction. It may have reversed to going back where it came from. Or, it could even have resumed its original course. This analogy works particularly well for an eclipse of the Sun. The direction of the future shifts. But with an eclipse of the Moon, it is more as if the past is being shifted. For instance, it might be time to leave behind a tragedy one previously couldn’t get past. History can be rewritten, or re-interpreted. Old myths have new meanings. Old gods are discarded, old demons deified. So, what might be some of the possibilities of this particular eclipse—which again is being carried out in the signs of Scorpio and Taurus? In the United States, could the chasm between the political parties be re-aligning? Or worldwide, could the COVID era be ending? Or taking some dramatic new turn? This eclipse also features a T-Square
(two 90° angles) from Jupiter in Aquarius to the Sun and Moon. T-Squares are challenges, but when they feature Jupiter at the apex, they usually release tremendous forces. Since Jupiter is in Aquarius, these forces are, at their best, likely to be in terms of idealism in facing our challenges. Negatively, instead of ideals they might be in terms of ideology. Or some combination. But look for some form of fervent activity. And for you, what part of your life, what part of your belief system, do you just not need anymore? What has to be eclipsed and left behind for you to move on?
Saw you in the Ojo 55
The Automat By Patricia Hemingway
O
n a narrow side street in downtown Manhattan, the lights are still on in Malik’s Automat Café. The surrounding offices are dark and their elevators sit at ground level, empty and quiet. The security guard who lounges behind a desk in the cavernous lobby next door to Malik’s, whose face reflects a small TV screen, pays no attention to the soldier in a camouflage print jacket and pants making his slow journey up the sidewalk. The soldier halts at the entrance to the automat. He places one hand on each side of the doorway, steadying himself, as he faces the vending machines at the back of the café. Malik is wiping down tables. The soldier’s gaze seems to Malik to be as usual—a continual alertness behind eyes that cannot quite identify their surroundings. As if the soldier had not been to the café many times before. Dinner is waiting for Malik at home, a meal he will share with his wife and children. He reminds himself that he should be closing. But he knows he will keep the café open for his last few customers. The soldier heads toward the row of glistening vending machines. Each offers a single serving behind a glass window just wide enough for the customer to reach in and retrieve the selection. The soldier stands completely still, as in wonder, before the machines that beckon him to insert coins or slide a dollar into the illuminated slot. He surveys the offerings of wrapped sandwiches, cups of soup, and slices of Middle Eastern style meatloaf. Searching for the window that promises a slice of pie. Pumpkin has been the recent offering, easily detected because it has no top layer of crust. It shines in comparison with the crisscrossed lattice of the all-season apple pie. The soldier’s hand trembles as he pulls a dollar bill from his jacket pocket and unfolds it. The blinking green light, just beyond his direct vision, grabs his attention. He takes a quick step back, as if he might turn on his heel and exit.
56
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
Malik comes over and puts his hand on the soldier’s shoulder. “Good evening, Paul. Are you having the pie?” Paul. The word resonates in the soldier’s ear. It refers to something about him, but he isn’t sure what. Paul is a word Malik and a few others repeat when they stand near him. Sometimes they touch his arm or his shoulder, as Malik has just done. Other times they extend their hand and, realizing he doesn’t know what is expected of him, grasp his. He feels warmth. Paul aims his hand tentatively toward the slot that beckons. Malik steadies it with his own, the dollar bill is sucked in, and Malik says quietly, “B14”. The soldier pushes the button. The small window swings open. Malik pours the soldier a paper cup of coffee, turning his head to see if Paul looks steady enough to carry the hot liquid. The soldier is already moving toward the table nearest the door. Malik follows him and sets down the coffee. This is an automat. Malik is not supposed to be assisting the customers. There are no tips to be earned, and his dinner is waiting at home. The old ways have stayed with him. Service has been deeply ingrained, and Malik honors it. The soldier sits down. He stares into the darkness beyond the front door and seems to have forgotten the food and drink in front of him. A voice comes from the corner of the Café: “Do you like pie?” Paul jumps up and knocks the table over. He crouches automatically as he orients himself toward the voice of the old woman in the shadows, folded blankets made of coarse wool stacked all around her. The one who is always in the same corner stall of the market. Familiar odors of damp wool and sawdust reach him. He knows she is watching his every movement. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Malik stands behind Paul and decides not to intrude for the moment. “Do you like pie?” she inquires again.
The soldier stands still and tries to focus on the voice that keeps mentioning pi. A word in a language unfamiliar to him. It might mean information. The old woman could be offering him the description of a certain car parked around the corner. For a price. “I love to bake pies. I make the crust myself.” The soldier stands, listening. The smell of damp wool fades. He turns to Malik and back again, realizing slowly that this old woman is not the vendor in the marketplace. Paul looks down at the spilled coffee collecting around his shoes and the fragments of pie that protrude from the upsidedown paper plate on the floor. The table lying on its side. He puts his hands over his eyes and cries softly.
There is no other sound in the café. The woman gestures to Malik to stay where he is. She gets up and gathers her coat and her shoulder bag in her left hand. She walks to the soldier and puts her right arm through his left, gently pulling his hand from his face. “Why don’t you come with me and I will make you a pie. I have no one else to cook for.” She guides the soldier out the door of the café and heads toward her apartment. Malik waits until they leave to close the door, and to turn around the hand-lettered sign that says: Come, whoever you are. Ours is not a caravan of despair.1
1
Rumi.
The Wake By Gabrielle Blair
No fancy funeral home with polished floors and polished knobs, and undertakers in undertones, and soft-spoken mourners in subdued lighting - where money speaks. Theirs is outdoors - the street is closed. Plastic chairs in rows on cobbles - familiar faces the village folk of Six Corners face the bike shop’s open doors; where a shiny, wooden, bouquet-covered casket fills the small space, bicycles and bike-parts are removed. I choose a bunch of white chrysanthemums and opt for a red ribbon, not the offered black. Shyly, out of place among the family who line the walls, red-eyed his wife receives my token and with a nod, shakes hands as do the others pressed together, seated by her side. The crowd outside looks in. Abel was always there. He’d wave a greeting as I passed, my bicycle bumping over cobbled stones. How many flats and perished tires he’s changed? He gave away tricycles to the little ones. It won’t be the same. Abel’s no longer there. I muse about community, tinged with longing. There are many miles between me and my folk, who seldom visit. We foreigners love to tell how meaningful the family is to Mexicans. Who will mourn me when I die? Crowding the road on plastic chairs, it’s twilight and a sea of faces look in, strangers to me, but not to white-haired Abel, gentle Abel with ready smile, once a fixture at the Seis Esquinas bike shop, they’ve come to bid farewell, for Abel was one of theirs.
Saw you in the Ojo 57
Yachting In Manzanillo By Margie Keane
O
ne thing I have learned while living in Mexico is that to enjoy it to the fullest one must be open to new experiences, get to know the people, learn something of their culture and keep your sense of humor. This story is about a new experience and finding the humor. My husband Tom and I spent three idyllic months in Manzanillo enjoying the ocean, great food and paved streets. We had a place right on the beach with a pool and palm trees. We rented this from Roberto, who handles rental properties and who became our fast friend, inviting us to family parties and taking us on many adventures. Roberto always has a bazillion things going. He has two kids in private school and one in law school so he is constantly looking for ways to make some extra money. One day he came knocking on our door, and said, “Tom! Margie! Do I have a deal for you! This guy has a big yatch [mispronounced: yah-ech] that he wants to sell. “Yatch?” I asked “Yes! It’s a really big boat!” “Oh, a yacht!” “Yes! That’s what I said! It sleeps 15! Tom, you could give harbor tours and take people fishing.” “And why would I want to do that?” Tom asked. “Well if you don’t want to do it, I could take them out for you. We could be partners.” Tom looked at me with a twinkle in his eyes, and said, “We would have to go look at this “yacht” and see if it’s any good. Can you arrange it?” “Sure, I’ll call you later and tell you when we can see it.” The next day he called and said we could go on Sunday to look at the yacht and take it for a test run. We picked up Roberto Sunday and drove down to the harbor. We walked out on the dock and searched the water. There were a lot of skiffs and wooden fishing boats, all in great
58
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
need of paint and repairs, but, we saw no “yatch”. Finally, Roberto pointed to a small boat with a blue canvas awning and shouted, “There it is!” We were speechless. “Roberto,” I whispered, “That will never hold 15 people.” It probably won’t even hold two!” “I know, but that’s what the guy told me.” Roberto looked so sad we didn’t have the heart to be annoyed. Since we were there, we decided to take it for a short cruise and check it out. The owner sent two men along with us, the captain and a deckhand. Our plan was to just cruise down the coastline for a short distance, so off we went with a cooler full of cold drinks and some snacks. We hadn’t gone more than thirty feet, when the captain said we had to turn back and pick up some extra fuel “just in case”. So, after we paid for the extra gas and the extra beer we set off again. It was a perfect Manzanillo day, cloudless and sunny. We toddled along to Las Hadas, admired the real yachts and went out around Las Puntas where the really rich and famous have their digs. We decided to go as far as Las Bouquitas, another beach and then head back because I wanted to be home in time to watch UConn in the NCAA basketball finals. (One has to have priorities, you know). We got as far as Miramar beach when the engine started acting funny. The captain said we needed more gas so he turned off the engine and put the “just in case” reserve gas in the tank. When the captain tried, the engine would not start. He tried two or three times with no success. He tried to prime it, but, that didn’t work either. We, in the meantime, sipped our drinks and watched a school of fairly large fish jumping out of the water all around us. The captain, now turned mechanic, decided that it was the coil, probably, because he had an extra one onboard.
He and the deckhand changed the coil, whatever that is, and he proudly said, “That’s it, we are ready to go.” We were ready, but, the yatch had ideas of its own. It refused to start. So, there we were, in sight of Mirarmar beach but too far away to swim. I also noticed that we were drifting further out to sea. Roberto brought this to the captain’s attention. The captain sent the deckhand into the cabin where he found a large cooking pot with a handle. He tied a rope around the handle and threw the pot overboard. I looked at Roberto who said “He’s using it for an anchor.” It worked, sort of. “I suppose it’s silly to ask if there are any life vests on board?” “Very silly.” Tom suggested that they call one of their amigos and ask for a tow. Good idea to us, bad to them. No selfrespecting macho Mexican is going to be towed, so all his buddies could laugh at him. Instead they called someone and asked them to bring a new battery. “How long will that take?” I asked Roberto, looking very forlorn, just shrugged. Meantime small boats pulling people on banana shaped floats and other boats of all descriptions were all around us. The captain could see
we were becoming a bit hostile so he got out on the bow and tried to wave down someone to help. A friendly guy towing an empty banana float managed to get the banana alongside and motioned for us to get aboard. Tom and I looked at each other, looked at the float, shrugged, and said, “Come on Roberto, let’s get aboard!” The captain called out, “Wait! You must pay me for using the boat!” “Keep the cooler and we’ll call it even” smirked Tom in reply. We took off our shoes, hung them around our necks and clumsily climbed aboard the bobbing banana. A short tow and a few minutes later the water was shallow enough for us to escape and wade ashore. We got off faster than we got on. We waded ashore, spent a couple of minutes discussing our experience and wondering if the battery ever showed up or if that glorious yacht ever made it back to the marina. Then we headed for the car and hurried to get home in time to watch the game. By the way, Uconn lost – and we didn’t buy the yatch. Margie Keane
Saw you in the Ojo 59
The Ojo Crossword
ACROSS 1 Collar 5 Indonesian island 9 Wild dog 14 National capital 15 Chopped 16 Sporty car brand 17 Among 18 Separate areas 19 Walker 20 Wooden leg 21 Japanese tree 23 Nightly tv show 24 African folk medicine 26 Children’s game 28 Deer relative 29 Money 31 Gone by 34 Conduct 37 Afloat (2 wds.) 39 Nativity scene piece 40 Time period 41 Skating area 42 Story lines 44 Kid (2 wds.) 47 Possessive pronoun 48 Instruction to a dog 50 Spanish “one” 51 Representative 52 Small rooftop structure 56 Ride on the runway 59 Fragrances 63 Body part 64 Business wear 66 A wager (2 wds.) 67 Raised bank 68 First sign of the Zodiac 69 Flat bread 70 Christmas carol 71 Farm 72 Was looked at 73 Green Gables dweller DOWN 1 Chart
60
2 Juliet’s boyfriend 3 Friend (Sp.) 4 Cot 5 Rocket launcher 6 Neuron end 7 Glasses part 8 Thought 9 Dit’s partner 10 Cake topping 11 Drop bombs on 12 Increased in size 13 Rowers needs 21 Tree trunk 22 __ A Small World... 25 Resign 27 Expression of surprise 29 Secreted by marine invertebrates 30 Bedouin 31 Land mass 32 Lad 33 Furniture wood 34 Painter of melting clocks 35 One´s image of oneself (pl) 36 Northeast by east 38 Military unit 39 Miles per hour 43 Her 45 Mexican peninsula 46 African antelopes 49 Environmental protection agency (abbr) 51 __ of passage 53 Constellation 54 Compare 55 White poplar 56 Russian autocrat 57 Atmosphere of a person or thing” 58 Roman thirteen 60 Knocks 61 Off-Broadway award 62 Dole out 65 Compass point 67 Genetic code
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
Saw you in the Ojo 61
Service
- EL OJO DEL LAGO Tel. 376 765-3676
DIRECTORY
- BETO’S WINE & LIQUOR Cell: 333-507-3024
* ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS Pag: 58
* ANIMAL CLINICS/PET SHOP - CLINICA VETERINARIA SAN ANTONIO Tel: 376 766-0808 Pag: 16 - LAKESIDE FRIENDS OF THE ANIMALS AC Tel: 376 765-5544 Pag: 21 - MASKOTA’S LAKE Tel: 376 766-0287, 33-3448-2507 Pag: 06 - PET PLACE Pag: 22
* ANTIQUES & FURNITURE - GALERIA ALFREDO Tel: 376 766-2980
directory.chapala.com
* BEER & LIQUOR STORES
* ADVERTISING / DIRECTORY
- ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS WhatsApp ONLY 331-219-6987
EMERGENCY NUMBERS
Pag: 54
Pag: 55
* BOUTIQUE / CUSTOM SEWING - ARATI Tel: 376 766-0130 - LA BELLA VIDA Tel: 376 766-5131 - MANOS DE AJIJIC Tel: 376 766-5640 - SO CHIC BOUTIQUE Tel: 331-762-7838
Pag: 38 Pag: 14 Pag: 48 Pag: 30
Pag: 20
Pag: 31
* ART GALLERIES/HANDCRAFTS Pag: 12 Pag: 54 Pag: 14 Pag: 26
* BAKERY - COLIBRI GARDEN Tel: 376-765-4412, Cell: 333-156-9382 - EVA ANTUNEZ Tel: 331-604-8309 - LA VIE EN ROSE Tel: 376 688-4538, 376 766-3399
Pag: 44 Pag: 16
- TRANSITIONAL DIRECTIONS - Life Coaching Tel: 376 766-2928, +52 331-435-7080 Pag: 15
Pag: 41
* COMMUNICATIONS
Pag: 47
Pag: 09 Pag: 11
- ISHOPNMAIL Tel: 376 766-1933 - MACDONALD SERVICES Tel: 415-121-9266
Pag: 03 Pag: 66
* COMPUTERS - LAKESIDE - CompuShop + Repair Tel: 33-2340-7501 / 376 668-1354
Pag: 44
Pag: 13 Pag: 52 Pag: 26 Pag: 41 Pag: 43 Pag: 57
* BED & BREAKFAST - CASA TRES LEONES Cell: 331-350-6764
62
Pag: 13
- TEPEHUA TREASURES Tel: 376 763-5126
Pag: 24
Pag: 18 Pag: 42
Pag: 33
Pag: 15
- FERRETERIA Y TLAPALERIA GALVEZ Tel: 376 766-0880, 387 763-0341 Pag: 66
* CONSTRUCTION
* HEARING AIDS
- COMFORT SOLUTIONS Tel: 33-1228-5377 Pag: 30, 53 - GENERAL HOME SERVICES - Amancio Ramos Jr. Cell: 331-520-3054 Pag: 26 - PIETRA FINA Tel: 333-105-0996 Pag: 51 - SERVICIOS AGUILAR Tel: 333-393-4991, 333-021-0753 Pag: 57 - SIKA Tel: 376 766-5959 Pag: 52
- M.D. CARLOS ALONSO FLORES VALDOVINOS Tel: 376 766-5126, 376 766-4435 Pag: 09
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
* LEGAL SERVICES - FELIPE GONZÁLEZ-Atorney at law Tel: 376 688-4563, (33) 3632-4689 - SOLBES & SOLBES Cell: 331-520-5529, Cell: 333-676-6245
Pag: 49 Pag: 15
* LIGHTING Pag: 53
* MALL / OUTLET Pag: 02
- BESTLAB Tel: 376 688-1174, 331-042-1411 Pag: 50 - DERMIKA Tel: 376 766-2500 Pag: 13 - DR. BEN - CERTIFIED PLASTIC SURGEON Cell: 333-105-0402 Pag: 17 - DR. GABRIEL HERNANDEZ NUÑO - Plastic Surgery Tel: 376 766-5513, 333-813-3081 Pag: 28 - DRA. CLAUDIA LILIA CAMACHO CHOZAOphthalmologist Tel: 33-3403-3857 Pag: 22 - HOSPITAL SAN ANTONIO Tel: 376-689-0911 Pag: 21 - KAPICI - MEDICAL TOURISM Cell: 33-3378-2699 Pag: 39 - LAKESIDE MEDICAL GROUP Tel: 376 766-0395 Pag: 37 - PLASTICA LIFT Tel: 376 108-0595, 376 688-1820 Pag: 45 - RIBERA MEDICAL CENTER Tel: 376 765-8200 Pag: 27 - SCLEROTHERAPY-Dra. Patricia Estela Jimenez del Toro Cell: 333-808-2833 Pag: 54 - SKYMED Cell: 333-661-3402 Pag: 48 - UNITED AMBULANCE SERVICES Tel: 376 688-3315 Pag: 29
* HARDWARE STORES
* CONSIGNMENT SHOP
Pag: 53
Pag: 26
* GOLF
- NAPOLEON Tel: 376 766-6153
- INVESTMENT Cell: 33-1262-6473
* MEDICAL SERVICES
- AUTOMATIC GARAGE DOOR OPENERS Tel: 376 766-4973, Cell: 332-213-8933 Pag: 18
- ATLAS COUNTRY CLUB Tel: 33-3689-2620
Pag: 12
Pag: 20
* GARAGE DOORS OPENERS
- GARDEN CENTER Tel: 376 765-5973 - RAINFOREST Cell: 331-241-9773
Pag: 18
* INVESTMENT
- CENTRO LAGUNA Tel: 376 766-5514
* GRILLS
* BEAUTY - CHRISTINE’S Tel: 376 106-0864, 376 766-6140 - EDITH’S Cell: 33-1310-9372 - GLORIOSA Tel: 376 766-3372 - NEW LOOK STUDIO Tel: 376 766-6000, 33-3950-9990 - NEW MOON Cell: 33-1841-3928 - PANACHE Tel: 376 766-2228
Pag: 20
* GARDENING
Pag: 45
Mexico Toll Free 01-800-681-6730 - TIOCORP Tel: 376 766-4828, 376 766-3978
- L&D CENTER Tel: 376 766-1064
* FUMIGATION
Pag: 47
* COACHING
* BANK INVESTMENT - INTERCAM Tel: 376 766-5978, 376 766-4055 - MULTIVA Tel: 376 766-2499
- AXIXIC SPRING CLEAN Tel: 33-1075-7768, 376 766-5140 - PROFESSIONAL WINDOW WASHING Tel: 376 765-4507 - STEAM CLEAN Tel: 33-2385-0410
Pag: 13
* FISH MARKET
- FUMIGA Tel: 376 688-2826, Cell: 331-464-6705 - MOSQUITO CONTROL Cell: 331-498-7699
CLEANING SERVICES - DIANE PEARL COLECCIONES Tel: 376 766-5683 - GALERIA ALFREDO Tel: 376 766-2980 - LA BELLA VIDA Tel: 376 766-5131 - PENTHOUSE GALLERY
* ELECTRONICS/ TECHNOLOGY
- COSTALEGRE Tel: 376 108-1087, 33-1173-6144
CHIROPRACTIC - LOWELL STEPHEN BIRCH, D.C. Cell: 331-319-1799, 915-706-1588
- AJIJIC DENTAL Tel: 376 766-3682, Cell: 33-1411-6622 Pag: 11 - C.D. SANDRA ANAYA MORA Cell: 331-218-6241 Pag: 43 - CHAPALA DENTAL CARE Tel: 376 765-5584, 376 766-3847 Pag: 13 - DRA. ANGELICA ALDANA LEMA DDS Tel: 376 765-5364, Cell: 331-351-7797 Pag: 26 - MOJO DENTAL - Dra. Cristina Barreto Tel: 376 688-2731 Pag: 24
- STEREN Tels. 376 766-0599, 376 766-0630
* CANOPIES - LONAS MEXICO Tel: 376 766-0045, Cell: 33-3956-4852
DENTISTS
EMERGENCY HOTLINE 911 CRUZ ROJA 376 765-2308, 376 765-2553 FIRE DEPARTMENT 376 766-3615 POLICE Ajijic 376 766-1760 Chapala 376 765-4444 La Floresta 376 766-5555
* INSURANCE - HECHT INSURANCE Tel: 376 109-1694 Pag: 54 - LAKESIDE INSURANCE - EDGAR CEDEÑO Cell: 33-3106-6982 Pag: 14 - PARKER INSURANCE SERVICES Tel: 376 765-5287, 376 765-4070 Pag: 15 - PROTEXPLAN U.S. Toll Free 1-800-608-5743
* MOVERS - BEST MEXICO MOVERS US/CANADA: (915) 235-1951 US Cell: (520) 940-0481 - LAKE CHAPALA MOVING Tel: 376 766-5008 - STROM-WHITE MOVERS Tel: 376 766-6153
Pag: 10 Pag: 03 Pag: 15
* MUSIC / THEATRE / EVENTS - D.J. HOWARD Tel: 376 766-3044
Pag: 30
- TEQUILA TASTING TOUR Tel: 33 3407 8193 - TRIBUTE TO FREDDIE MERCURY
Tel: 376 766-1152 Pag: 52 Pag: 55
* NOTARY SERVICES - RAINBOW NOTARY & NUPTIALS Tel: 904-333-7311
Pag: 53
* OUTDOOR EQUIPMENT - MAQUINARIA Y HERRAMIENTAS PROFESIONALES Tel: 387-763-1232, Cell: 33-1892-2142
Pag: 42
* PAINT - QUIROZ-Impermeabilizantes Tel: 376 766-2311 - QUIROZ-Pinturas Tel: 376 766-2311
Pag: 54 Pag: 38
Pag: 56
* RESTAURANTS / CAFES /BAR - AJIJIC TANGO Tel: 376 766-2458 - ARMANDO’S HIDEAWAY Tel: 376 766-2229 - BISTRO 12 Tel: 376 765 7569 - CASA LINDA Tel: 376 108-0887 - GO BISTRO Cell: 33-3502-6555 - HUERTO CAFE Tel: 376 108-0843 - MANIX Tel: 376 766-0061, 331-065-0725 - MOM’S DELI & RESTAURANT Tel: 376 765-5719 - YVES Tel: 376 766-3565
Pag: 35 Pag: 59 Pag: 50 Pag: 16 Pag: 07 Pag: 26 Pag: 51 Pag: 03 Pag: 20
* PHARMACIES - FARMACIA MASKARAS Tel: 376 766-3539
* RETIREMENT/REST/NURSING HOMES Pag: 44
* POULTRY - PURITAN POULTRY Tel: 376 765-4399
Pag: 59
* REAL ESTATE - AJIJIC HOME INSPECTIONS Tel: 33-3904-9573 Pag: 08 - AJIJIC REAL ESTATE Tel: 37 6766-2077 Pag: 19 - AZABACHE HABITAT Tel: 331-845-0587, 333-405-0089 Pag: 45 - BAUERHOUSE PROPERTIES Tel: 33-2164-5301, 33 2672-2236 Pag: 25 - BETTINA BERING Cell. 33-1210-7723 Pag: 23 - BEV COFELL Cell: 33-1193-1673 Pag: 54 - CIELOVISTA Tel: 33-2002-2400 Pag: 05 - COCO WONCHEE Cell: 333-117-2927 Pag: 47 - COLDWELL BANKER CHAPALA REALTY Tel: 376 765-3676, 376 765-2877 Fax: 765-3528 Tel: 376 766-1152, 376 766-3369 Pag: 68 - CONTINENTAL REALTY Tel: 376 766-1994, 331-366-2256 Pag: 43 - CUMBRES Tel: 33-2002-2400 Pag: 05 - EAGER REALTY Tel: 333-137-8447 Pag: 08 - FOR SALE BY OWNER Tel: +1 720-984-2721, +52 33-1395-9062 Pag: 56 - FOR SALE BY OWNER Tel: 55-2717-1657 Pag: 44 - JUDIT RAJHATHY Cell: 331-395-9849 Pag: 17 - LAKE CHAPALA REAL ESTATE Tel: 376 766-4530/40 Pag: 67 - RAUL GONZALEZ Cell: 33-1437-0925 Pag: 03, 51 - ROSEMARY BUTTERFIELD Cell: 332-204-1011 Pag: 66 - VISTA ALEGRE Tel: 33-2002-2400 Pag: 05
* REIKI - TERAPIA DE REIKI Tel: 33-1825-2825
- ALICIA’S CONVALESCENT Tel: 376 766-1194, 376 766-2999 - CASA ANASTASIA - Care Home Tel: 376 765-5680 - CASA NOSTRA-Nursing Home Tel: 376 765-3824, 376765-4187 - NURSING HOME LAKE CHAPALA S.C. Tel: 33-3470-3470 - SACRED HEART - Nursing Home Tel: 331-027-1501
* RENTALS/PROPERTY MANAGEMENT - COLDWELLBANKER CHAPALA REALTY Tel: 376 766-1152 Pag: 58 - FOR RENT Cell: 333-667-6554 Pag: 46 - FOR RENT Pag: 30 Cell: 33-1115-6584 - FOR RENT Cell: 333-3815-2561 Pag: 52 - ROMA Tel: 33-1075-7768 Pag: 47 - VILLAS DEL SOL
Pag: 40 Pag: 43 Pag: 39 Pag: 59
* SATELLITES/ T.V. - AJIJIC ELECTRONICS S.A. DE C.V. Tel: 376 766-1117, 376 766-3371 - SHAW SATELLITE SERVICES Tel: 33-1402-4223
Pag: 55 Pag: 52
* SOCIAL ORGANIZATIONS - FOODBANK LAKESIDE - LOS NIÑOS DE CHAPALA Y AJIJIC Tel: 376 765-7032
Pag: 59 Pag: 60
* SPA / MASSAGE - GANESHA SPA Tel: 376 766-5653, 331 385-9839 Pag: 18 - HOTEL BALNEARIO SAN JUAN COSALA Tel: 01 387-761-0222 Pag: 46 - SPA GRAND Tels: 387 761-0303, 387 761-0202 Pag: 49 - TOTAL BODY CARE Tel: 376 766-3379 Pag: 26
* STAINED GLASS - AIMAR Cell: 33-1741-3515
Pag: 38
* TAXI / TRANSPORTATION - ARTURO FERNANDEZ - TAXI Cell: 333-954-3813 - OMAR MEDINA Cell: 33-1281-2818
Pag: 24 Pag: 58
* TREE SERVICE - CHAPALA TREE SERVICE Tel: 376 762-0602, Cell: 33-1411-0242
Pag: 46
Pag: 38
Pag: 54
* TOURS - CHARTER CLUB TOURS Tel: 376-766-1777
Pag: 07
* WATER - TECNO AQUA Tel: 376 766-3731, 376 688-1038
Pag: 53
Saw you in the Ojo 63
CARS
WANTED: Want to buy a 4x4 suv in good condition will consider old as 1988 or as new as 2011, please pm if you know of one in the lakeside área. Send PM FOR SALE: Honda Pilot 2010 EX leather seats 4WD. 175k pesos or USD equivalent. felixbb@yahoo.com Mexico City plates. WANTED: Low mileage, full records, Mexican plated SUV. Nissan / Toyota / Renault / Honda / Mazda. crjd01@gmail.com or P.M. WANTED: Seeking a New-To-Me Used Car. Mexican plates, Japanese preferred. I’ll wanna take it to a couple of mechanics. 120,000p/6k tops
COMPUTERS FOR SALE: I am moving to a home that already has a Shaw receiver and Satellite dish. I have a 2 year old HDDSR 600 series Shaw receiver ( HDMI connector cable to the TV is included) and also a 2 yr old Model XKU LNB for the satellite dish, which is compatible for Shaw 600 and 800 series receivers. I am asking 1,200 p for the receiver and 1,000 p for the LNB, both which I bought new. Please send PM if interested. WANTED: Needed working older windows 10 laptops and desktops and older larger TV’s for Have Hammer Will Travel CAD room and students. We are starting up our classes again after this long shut down, Have hammer will Travel A.C woodworking
and CAD school needs older window 10 desktops and laptops that work. Luis Algarin from lakeside computer shop, will clean and reboot the computers for our school, with latest version of windows 10. the school is setting up our CAD classroom . we need four more working computers, and we need computers for the students to take home. The students will make projects in wood then a create the same project in CAD. These are under privileged boys and girls who need a step up in life. Who can not afford a computer. We are creating a work stations with two monitors one a larger tv to create there CAD project. other one they watch a lesson.. We need older TV’s since we use older computers. The current CAD software we use is TINKERCAD on the cloud , so all we need is a computer that will connect to the internet. Some Desktops without keyboard and mouse ok. Thank you for your generous donation. Please drop off at HHWT school Hidalgo 231-1 in Riberas de Pilar next S&S auto. I can come and pick larger tv’s Wayne 376 688 1282 HHWT back office. if you have any experience with basic CAD and want to help set up classroom or teach 4 hours week please come by the school. www.havehammer.org WANTED: Looking to buy or take away your broken/non-funtional phones, tablets, iPads, laptops, Macbooks etc... If you have stuff that you wouldn’t want to repair or that you
The Ojo Crossword
64
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
just want to get rid of because you no longer need it, I can take it off you. Looking for anything electronic, does not necessarily needs to be fixable. If you are thinking about giving it away, I would really appreciate it. FOR SALE: Android. We have upgraded to fire cube and no longer need the android. Will sale for $1,000 pesos. This is a H96 Pro Ultra HD TV Box. I am now reducing price to $800 pesos. You need a good Wifi signal for it to work properly. Send PM. $500 pesos for it now!
PETS & SUPPLIES FOR SALE: Backpack tote for small dog. Soft nylon fabric. Screen window or pull string top opening. Fits up to 8 lbs. Wear in front or back. 350 pesos. Send PM. FOR SALE: New in Box from Amazon dog harness, size small. Has LED lights on, off, blinking settings. Color neon green asking $27US or equal in pesos.
GENERAL MERCHANDISE FOR SALE: Bell car top carrier large flexible, car top cargo bag. 500 pesos. 376 766 1860. FOR SALE: Everheat Model LE150HD ambient infrared propane heater with bottle, manual. Three levels, easily heats 900sqft, pushbutton start, on wheels for easy mobility. Excellent heater, used twice. Moving. Pd. $5250mxn, asking $3500mxn. 331-763-5597. FOR SALE: We have two for sale/ location Upper Ajijic Mountainside In perfect working condition. Selling as we are moving. Shaw cable boxes: HDDSSR 6OO with remote, HDPVR 630 with remote. Shaw service not included. FOR SALE: Fans, 20” Pedestal Fan. ATIVO model DSF-205. $500 Pesos & 20” Floor Fan. Birtman model BVP-20. $250 Pesos. Tel. 376 765 6161. FOR SALE: Sony Bravia Digital Color TV, model KDL 26 L 5000. This is not a smart tv but is in excellent condition and has been barely used. $2,000 Pesos. Tel. 376 765 6161. WANTED: Exercise equipment. I would like to purchase a non-motorized treadmill, schwin aerodyne bike, and set of dumbbells up to 25# ajustable or individual set. If you have any of these items please let me know. WANTED: Three seater sofa or sofa bed in good condition, even if it needs cleaning. Fabric or leather
cover is OK. FOR SALE: Breville Compact Juice Extractor. 700 W motor. Extracts more juice and vitamins than other machines. Extra large feeding tube and integrated pulp container. Safety lock. Measures 25.4 x 25.4 x 40.4 cm. 10” x 10” x 16” tall. In likenew condition with box, manual and cleaning brush. Only used 3 times. Paid 3400. Asking 2200 pesos. FOR SALE: ROLAND BA 330 Professional Amplifier Beautiful Sound!! $500 usd or ($10.000 Mxp) If you are interested text me at joencoza2019@yahoo.com FOR SALE: Sony “Smart” DVD player UBPX700. $2,000 pesos. High end. Used once and put back in box. Plays any DVD/CD; play any file using an external hard drive, if you prefer. New was over $3,000p from Amazon. Call or email: 376-765-4156 or mike-at--ajijiccomputing.com FOR SALE: BBQ meat thermometer, remote read. Works great, works remotely, can use in oven as well. $350 pesos. Emily 434 150 7754, pelicanablanca@gmail.com FOR SALE: For non weight bearing below knee rehab, a great alternative to crutches. Comes with basket and padded seat. Can be used either side, seat height is adjustable. This is a heavy duty scooter requiring some strength and agility to use safely. $$2000 pesos. Emily 434 150 7754 (Mexican cell) or pelicanablanca@gmail.com FOR SALE: Selling HDDSR 600 Receiver and LNB for satellite dish ( Model XKU). LNB is compatible for both 600 and 800 series receivers. If interested, please call Jim at 376766-1520. FOR SALE: Etched, stemmed Wine Glasses. Set of nine etched wine glasses. Lovely for special occasions. 400 pesos Call 331-5395491 WANTED: I am looking for a Schwinn Aerodyne Bike in excellent condition. Also need 20-25 lb dumbbells. JesseMichaelMorris@icloud.com FOR SALE: The Guide to Birds of Mexico and Northern Central America by Steve N.G. Howell and Sophie Webb 250 pesos Call 331-539-5491 FOR SALE: Champion Juicer 1500 pesos. Great for making juices from carrot to celery and for making nut butters. Call 331-539-5491 FOR SALE: Roland E-16 Synthesizer 61 keys with stand for sale 3500 pesos Call 331 539 5491 FOR SALE: In Time for Cold Weather. Flannel Sheets. Queen
size, two sets of good quality fabric in excellent condition. 500 pesos. FOR SALE: Hyundai 3500W generator for sale. Almost new, maybe 10 hours run time. $12,000 pesos. Cel/Whatsapp 331 453 6800 WANTED: Storage shed for Have hammer Will Travel woodworking school in Riberas. We can pick up and clean it up thank you for your generosity and helping the kids. Plastic home depot type ok, please pm me or stop by the school, we are located next S&S auto on the mountain side, 376 688 1282 or 333 260 8389 FOR SALE: Set of six Ojeda steak knives with engraving. 4800 pesos FOR SALE: Rosetta Stone Espanol. Spanish level 1,2,3,4,5 Used once $100 dollars . Cell. 333 9665657 FOR SALE: Absolutely gorgeous abstract fused art glass plate/sculpture. It has a beach scene with ocean and seagulls. Measures approximately 12” inches diameter. Signed by the artist - M. Masten (whose art glass studio is in California). His original works can be seen on his web-
site Masten Art Glass and are being sold for around $400-$450 dollars in this size ($8,000-$9,000 pesos). 100% authentic and original oneof-a-kind display piece! It does not include a stand. Like-new condition with no damage whatsoever. Selling for only $800 pesos. Price is firm/ non-negotiable. Please email for a quick response or you can call/text to 332 921 6096 (Pics Available) FOR SALE: Ken Gosh Watercolors. Ken has his paintings available for sale at his temporary casa till December, then they will be at his casa in Mexico City, PM me for location to VIEW. Email me at kgosh365@ hotmail.com. we can then schedule viewing. FOR SALE: Books & Entertainment. I’m downsizing in preparation for my next move! Things are currently in GDL but I will be able to deliver this Friday at the Black Coffe Gallery at Lakeside! Feel free to message if you have any questions. Price range from 10, 50, 100 with the Far East 3000 dictionary ( new) at $500. Varios precios pregunta por los libros
que te interesen! FOR SALE: I’m downsizing in preparation for my next move! Things are currently in GDL but I will be able to deliver this Friday at the Black Coffe Gallery at Lakeside! Feel free to message if you have any questions. Sit-stand desk $500 ( new, only used twice), Mexican dishes $100 ( all 4), Shelf (blue streaks on one side, pink on other) $100, Shower curtain $100, Toilet seat cover$50, Glass display boxes $100 for both, Picture frame $100, Blue frame $ 50, Curtain hooks $60, Shower curtain $100, Wood rack ( can be for shoes or plants) $100 ( shoes not included), Agenda $50, Towel rack $25, Kitchen organizer $60, Lid organizer $60, Dish rack $80, Metal bicycle $50 ( has a holder for a small pot), White frame $25, Box $25, Seafoam green decor $50, Spot dot cushions new $100, Cetaphil new $200, Pizza cutter$50, Gift bags and paper $80 ( for all), Jewelry box $100, Plastic container $30, Wooden music box for pictures $150, Eiffel tower $50, Salt& pepper birds new $50, Chinese design cushions $
150 ( both), Mini travel box from Japan new $100 each, New inflatable ball & pump $50, Cooling Aloe vera gel $50, 5 lb weight $50, Wooden box $ 30, Mirror new $50, Snoopy metal box $100. FOR SALE: Serta Radiant Memory Foam, 2 years and 5 months old. $7,500 pesos. Contact Boyd at 376763-5038. Thanks. FOR SALE: Schwinn suburban 1970 collection bike, all original components, ideal for the ciclovia, very comfortable. It just needs a little maintenance. Price $ 5,000.00. Call Alma Rivera 3310053109 FOR SALE: Original Prada Shoes, size 24.5 Mexican, Only 1 time was used, price $3,000 pesos. Call Alma 331-005-3109 FOR SALE: Individual Brass Headboard, Price $2,200.00 pesos. Call Alma 331-005-3109.
Saw you in the Ojo 65
66
El Ojo del Lago / November 2021
