Pop Tarts, el Tigre Macho, and Considering Colonialism

Posted on February 11, 2014 by sceneafaire under Mexico 2014, Uncategorized

I think someone should know that I bought a box of cherry pop tarts and some chocolate twinkie-like things. I’m hiding them from Raines Wilder (he can have hummus and cheese if he wants a snack). I already ate one of the smushy brownie cakes and it gave me a nice high that I’m still enjoying as I type. No guilt involved, mind you, but it just seems like it’d be more fun to share these boxed goods with another person (and Aaron doesn’t get here until Sunday night). Oh yeah, did I mention that he’s coming on SUNDAY!? I am becoming more and more convinced that I’ve been sent through the transmogrifier at least twice now, which seems to explain this newer sensation of missing home and husband until it hurts all the way to my partially expanding lungs (7 months pregnant yo). Not that I didn’t miss him before (so much, Baby, always), but before Aaron and our good life (and wading through our muck, ahem) I wanted to go all the way around the world and to the sky and didn’t mind not knowing a single detail or if I’d even be coming back. One of my longest-running fancies had to do with me ending up somewhere and forgetting how to speak English. Anyway, I cannot wait to wrap my arms around my love when he gets here. And given that I’m such a mushpot these days, I’m sure I’ll end up being this sobbing pregnant lady with hoodlum-ragamuffin child in tow.

We went to the zoo again on Sunday and had an amazing time. Zoo highlights: When R said “hola” to the giant White Tiger, the cat backed up, turned around, and sprayed his machismo directly at us. I swooped my kid to the side and we barely escaped his “misting.” Guácala [gross]. And then this one crocodile stared at R for forever, imagining just exactly what he would taste like. And other good things.

By the way, we are SO happy this week. We moved into our new apartment here in North Mérida, where we each have our own room and bathroom (what!). Raines Wilder has designated one bed for Papá, one bed for me, and one of the giant closets for him. Okay. We are so grateful to Norma and Silvio (and pup-pup Lucas) for opening their home to us our first few weeks here. We were safe and had our own balcony from which to blow bubbles. So I got our stuffed moved across town to our new digs, and then found out that my most beautiful niece Aegis was born yesterday morning! Kathryn was able to have her at home and in water. I am ecstatically proud of her and cannot wait to meet her. Good, good day! Also, Raines entertained himself for about 2 hours by organizing and reorganizing all of the precious “toys” he’s accumulated since we got here. And I propped myself up on three pillows.

I need to tell you about my kid and the Mayans. Our first day in Mérida we went downtown with Norma and Silvio and walked through a museum. After passing through some interesting exhibits (our two favorite sculptures are the transformer bird made out of discarded motor parts and the bull’s head, made from discarded metal pieces), we went into a smaller room showing some works of Fernando Castro Pacheco. Raines Wilder was immediately drawn to the biggest mural on the wall, Las Tres Etapas Históricas del Pueblo Yucateco. The mural depicts three principal phases through which Mayans suffered after the Spanish arrived on the Yucatán. Each of the three images poetically conveys the truculence endured by the indigenous peoples on this peninsula during the Spanish conquest. Thousands upon thousands of Mayans were subjugated by steel-wielding, horse-mounted, disease-carrying proxies of colonialism. Oh, let me stop myself there or my face will start to hurt. Raines wants to know, to really understand why they are shooting arrows at this man; why their villages are on fire; why this man was killed by the pointy cactus. We sat in front of this painting and talked about what was happening a bit. We’ve since watched many videos and read many stories about the history of the Mayans. And I may have added a few of my own interpretations and opinions about these happenings. In fact, last night as he was melting from a symptom of childhood, he repeatedly told me that all he wanted was the story of the Mayans and Papá. We’ve been back to visit this mural again, and it ended up being the only thing we did in the city that day. The Mayans were warriors, too, by the way; Raines Wilder will tell you they weren’t the only ones to die. My small one sat in front of the painting for nearly half an hour. Maybe longer. He was thinking about how it made him feel and how he’d like a spear like that one in the painting. He wouldn’t shoot the Mayans, he said, but probably the conquistadores. Let’s see how his brain and heart mapping works out over these next few years. Ajit, I’ll need your help here too.

So yes, a good week so far and getting even better as we count down our days until Aaron gets here to love and help. Raines Wilder is in school again today and doing wonderfully with everyone there. His sugar intake is still astronomical and my energy levels are still sapped, but here we are in our third week in Mexico. I’m off to drink a cup of caffeine (and yes, I get asked if I’m sure I don’t want decaf every time I order a coffee). And no, I don’t want to drink pineapple juice on the beach all day either.

A lot to prove. Trying to crush a rock with his [rubber] Batman shoe. It’s okay, I said, you can try again later.

Instructing me on how I need to hold on while riding the bus.

Abrazos para Los Gorditos.

Considering colonialism

Blowing bubbles in the plaza, missing Colleen.

Mérida rooftops

Cueva

Norma’s mother, a few years ago.

Poor kid in his socks. He did this over and over and got so good at it.

Please come do this with me.

El Macho Macho Macho

Cocodrilo

SO happy to Skype with “Mom” and G-Pa! We love and miss you mucho.

29 semanas

About to move

Aegis MacIvor-Andersen, my beautiful niece

Wanting to clean our new, already super-clean apartment. Well, okay.

Se ha dicho que la revolución no necesita el arte, pero que el arte necesita la revolución. Eso no es cierto. La revolución sí necesita de un arte revolucionario.
–Diego Rivera

La Verdadera Realidad de la Realidad

Posted on February 7, 2014 by sceneafaire under Mexico 2014, Uncategorized

Perhaps my last post put some of you dear ones on edge, leaving you concerned and burdened with our long, bad day. But look, our days got better and we even went to see the new Lego movie tonight (popcorn, Icee, multiple bathroom trips and all). I absolutely could’ve skipped over this past week and left the fancy Mexican highlights in the open, but then that’s not life in general—and it’d be honesty covered in spit. Not once have I taken a trip and butterflied through it without a hard day or two or five. For me, the ruby is all in my reaction to my situation: How do I respond to, escape from, battle, ninja strike, etcetera whatever black rain cloud I’m staring at? And even if I go at it all wrong and slam my toe in a door, I’ll have future retrospection (whoa, weird but works) to learn from…but obviously better to get the shit right the first time, yeah? I will admit that this pregnancy has bent me a bit, and I’m much more tired all day and night than usual (if I can recall life before this train). But we’re here now so the boy can reinforce his Spanish skills all day every day, and also because who knows what kind of what Bebé Dos is gonna be and when/if we’ll ever be able to leave our house again. Basically, point of paragraph: honesty from me to you.

Raines Wilder has had a wonderful three days at his Mac Paty school (ahahahaa…sorry I just can’t not be happy about the name). He hasn’t opted to eat much of the Yucatecan food yet, but he did go for the cake and fruit loops (???) that were served at a birthday celebration today. Anyway. Oh yes, I finally found a local little café: Las Orquídeas Restaurante y Café. My eggs even came with jalapeños in them. And even though the server kept taking my napkin away, he always brought me a new one. So poor Starbucks will have to go back to dealing with their own again. Also, I wore this super motherly top today—one that Canción gave me (I love you and ache with the miles between us)—and felt pretty and pregnant. Surface topic. Whatever, it mattered today.

I have no clear idea of what we will do tomorrow (er, shower…?), but I think things get real here on the weekends. Maybe we’ll go try to find a black rope again, since he seems to be clinching onto this memory relentlessly. Either and all the ways, we’ve got good coming. I now have a pink Nokia phone that I could totally show off with when I get home, but it’s just practical. I mean, his school’s gotta have a way to contact me, right? So Salúd, damas y caballeros, y buenas noches hasta que llegue la luz del sol de nuevo.

A funny shape in the Starbux mirror

There are some tuff kit cats around here, and then there are some named Misha.

Picking the boy up from his escuelita is fantastic.

Papa, guess who picked the PINK balloons? Aaaand they never seem to go away, no matter how many I accidentally pop a day.

“El sol, está en mis ojos. ¿Puedes moverlo, Mami?”
“The sun, it’s in my eyes. Can you move it, Mommy?”

Shirt of the day, thanks to my sweet Cancioncita

Waiting on our taxi to take us to our MOOOOOVIE

Do we care about Legos yet? Well, that was fun anyway.

In the Streets

Posted on January 30, 2014 by sceneafaire under Mexico 2014, Uncategorized

Good day so far, today. We found this three-peso train machine-type thing a block from the house. I told Raines that if he can save his pesos we can come take a ride every morning. He said no problem, he has SO much money (um, give it to your mama, please). After receiving multiple sweet compliments about him being a beautiful little girl—just like a doll, ya know—we continued down the block and visited a little school. First of all, Tigger and Piglet are on the front banner for this place, so we’re both like yeah, we can dig this. We met with the director and she showed us around. This place seems perfect, educational and interactive. Raines Wilder starts next Tuesday at this place. I’m thinking by that point he’ll be needing a break from my lame battling styles and book-reading skills. He’ll want more. And I’ll get to catch up on some work projects, knit, and think about my sciatic nerve.

Yesterday we took a bus downtown and weaved through the streets of Mérida, watching our step along the way. The boy was intent on finding a black rope to buy, which became a public situation until we found some balloons. I love and hate these types of solutions. It was kinda weird how we could find every other color of rope, but no, not a black one. We waited an hour-ish for the bus home. Meanwhile there we are standing streetside in this old, marching city and I start to feel green. I mean green and dizzy, I guess. Sitting down wasn’t a good option, so I just tried to focus on specific cracks in the wall. All we needed was one R1 bus to come at us, none of this R2, R3 mess. And I’m sweating at least 25% more than normal, I’d say. If I had been alone, just me and little one inside, I would’ve cashed out and found a coffee shop or a glass of wine somewhere. So obviously traveling with a smaller one changes things up a bit, mainly affecting the crevices and every detail of a trip. This kid’s incredible though, powerful as he tells me on occasion, so we’ll be making our way through our days together here and I’m good with it.

Perhaps I’m being vague, so I’ll sketch it out a little here. I love traveling. I love the idea of travel. I love my son. I love the idea of traveling with my son. It’s not always (and sometimes not for days) dreamland, which isn’t the purpose of doing it anyway exactly. I get to know some of the best and most ridiculous sides of me in situations such as these. And now I get to take the boy along, to step out of our lovely life in Nashville for a bit and learn to give a shit in a new way. I mean a lot of things by this. I’m 27; he’s 3. He gets to think about colonialism and the Spanish conquest and recognize that it’s interesting and sad and there are so many bad guys involved. I get to revisit and reinvent my love for experiencing people and cultural history. So I don’t expect it to be by-the-beach easy or a dream vacation really. But I expect it to be worth it, hopefully worth it for everyone we meet along the way too, not just us. We shall see. So now I’m gonna go stare at my soaking wet shoes that are supposed to be drying in the sun. I’d bet you three pesos that they won’t be dry until February 21.