From a30c790edea652494e7481f6798047a3bc1fd4ea Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: luxagraf Date: Fri, 28 Jul 2023 13:43:36 -0500 Subject: added a backup of old pages that are no longer live --- .../jrnlold/2019/03/around-san-miguel.html | 534 +++++++++++++++++ .../jrnlold/2019/03/around-san-miguel.txt | 48 ++ bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/cascarones.html | 640 +++++++++++++++++++++ bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/cascarones.txt | 51 ++ bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/visa-run.html | 518 +++++++++++++++++ bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/visa-run.txt | 60 ++ 6 files changed, 1851 insertions(+) create mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/around-san-miguel.html create mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/around-san-miguel.txt create mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/cascarones.html create mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/cascarones.txt create mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/visa-run.html create mode 100644 bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/visa-run.txt (limited to 'bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03') diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/around-san-miguel.html b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/around-san-miguel.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..07f6bd5 --- /dev/null +++ b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/around-san-miguel.html @@ -0,0 +1,534 @@ + + + + + Around San Miguel - by Scott Gilbertson + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
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Around San Miguel

+

Parades, dancing, and Mexican patience

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San Miguel de Allende, Mexico

+ – Map +
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Last week I was walking up from the bus station when I happened across my favorite of the indigenous dance groups that come into town, dancers luxagraf readers might recognize — a group that turns out to be called La Sagrada Familia. There’s no machetes, but they have the best drummers, best costumes, and best dancing in my opinion.

+
+ + danza de indios, La Sagrada Familia, San Miguel de Allende photographed by luxagraf + +
+ +
+ + danza de indios, La Sagrada Familia, San Miguel de Allende photographed by luxagraf + +
+ +

They were on a narrow side street, dancing between a line of cars and the brick and plaster facades of houses. It was a tight space, not great for photos, but with no more than 20 or 30 people sitting around watching. This was the closest I’d been able to get to them. In the Jardin they’re always surrounded by a crowd at least three people deep.

+

Thanks to the concrete confines of the street the drums were more than sound, they hit me in the chest with vibrations I could feel from my ribcage to solar plexus. It was a more intimate and intense experience in the narrow street than anything I’d seen in the Jardin.

+

Vibrations are an important part of many ceremonies. As anyone who’s spent a good bit of time either vibrating with their voice or sitting in front of something that vibrates your whole body can tell you, it has profound effects after a while.

+

This is probably best known as a negative thing, as in the PTSD many soldiers get from being too close to too many explosions. The shock waves have permanent and lasting negative effects. But there are more positive effects to vibration when it arrives in smaller, saner doses. The effect is similar, just lower dosage you might say. This is why rhythmic chanting and other ways of vibrating your own body are so often a part of religious ceremonies — they are a quick and easy way to change brain states (among other things).

+

+

I sat in the middle of the street and watched them dance their way up and down in a slow looping ellipse, feeling the drums vibrate inside me while the dancers’ foot work, with ankle rattles attached, filled the mid tone space, and hand held shakers hissed in at the high end of the rhythmic scale. It was a wall of percussion that all fit together, making something larger than the sum of the parts.

+
+ + La Sagrada Familia, san miguel de allende, mexico photographed by luxagraf + +
+ +
+ + La Sagrada Familia, san miguel de allende, mexico photographed by luxagraf + +
+ +

I’m still not sure what the occasion was, or why they were in town. It was the weekend of Benito Juarez’s birthday, which could have been the reason. Earlier in the day there was a parade just up the street from our house, which also could have had something to do with Juarez’s birthday, though it looked more like Halloween than anything.

+
+ + parade, san miguel de allende, mexico photographed by luxagraf + +
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+ + parade, san miguel de allende, mexico photographed by luxagraf + +
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+ + parade, san miguel de allende, mexico photographed by luxagraf + +
+ +

Sometimes there’s no discernible reason for a parade. Even the locals standing on the street around us seemed a little mystified by it all. Or perhaps that was annoyance since the parade held up all the buses headed out of town for a good hour or so. On the weekend many people just want to get the market, get their food for the week, and head home. Damn the parades.

+

But they’re Mexican, so they waited patiently, with almost no outward sign of irritation, certainly not anger, though, if Octavio Paz is correct, there might be plenty of irritation and anger behind the public mask.

+

I’m not sure if Paz is right, sweeping general statements about an entire culture have severe rounding errors, nor an I sure that keeping everything behind a mask is a good thing. Anger has its place, it’s a natural, common human emotion. Still, I do admire the Mexican ability to keep it in check, especially in one particular circumstance I encounter nearly every time I head out the door - northerners behaving badly.

+

There’s no shortage of bad behavior by northerners around here, but Mexicans never confront it. At least as far as I’ve seen. That is a choice after all — confronting and complaining about the things you don’t like. It’s one I generally choose, but you can also choose, as my neighbors do, to ignore it all. Or, as I suspect, to store it up for gossip in the evenings, when everyone comes out into the streets to gather around the grills and cookers to eat, gossip, and laugh. My Spanish isn’t good enough to say for sure, but I suspect some of this talk is all the crazy and annoying things that gringos did in the neighborhood that day.

+

Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe Paz is wrong too. It’s impossible to know as an outsider, and even when you’re an insider, part of the culture, can you speak for everyone? We like to sort the world, to group individuals together by common traits, behaviors, beliefs. Sometimes there do seem to be currents of thought and idea running common among us, the backbeat of our dreams perhaps. Other times though those who would speak for all of us are really speaking of themselves, for themselves. Sometimes I think we’d all be better off if more of us spoke only of ourselves, for ourselves without assuming anyone else thinks, feels, or dreams the same.

+
+

Modern man likes to pretend that his thinking is wide-awake. But this wide-awake thinking has led us into the maze of a nightmare in which the torture chambers are endlessly repeated in the mirrors of reason. When we emerge, perhaps we will realize that we have been dreaming with our eyes open, and that the dreams of reason are intolerable. And then, perhaps, we will begin to dream once more with our eyes closed. –Octavio Paz

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You might also enjoy
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Thoughts?

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Please leave a reply:

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All comments are moderated, so you won’t see it right away. And please remember Kurt Vonnegut's rule: “god damn it, you’ve got to be kind.” You can use Markdown or HTML to format your comments. The allowed tags are <b>, <i>, <em>, <strong>, <a>. To create a new paragraph hit return twice.

+ + +
+ +
+ + + + +
+ + + + + + + diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/around-san-miguel.txt b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/around-san-miguel.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0b91773 --- /dev/null +++ b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/around-san-miguel.txt @@ -0,0 +1,48 @@ +Around San Miguel +================= + + by Scott Gilbertson + + Sunday, 17 March 2019 + +Last week I was walking up from the bus station when I happened across my favorite of the indigenous dance groups that come into town, dancers luxagraf readers might recognize -- a group that turns out to be called La Sagrada Familia. There's no [machetes](/jrnl/2019/03/cascarones), but they have the best drummers, best costumes, and best dancing in my opinion. + + + + +They were on a narrow side street, dancing between a line of cars and the brick and plaster facades of houses. It was a tight space, not great for photos, but with no more than 20 or 30 people sitting around watching. This was the closest I'd been able to get to them. In the Jardin they're always surrounded by a crowd at least three people deep. + +Thanks to the concrete confines of the street the drums were more than sound, they hit me in the chest with vibrations I could feel from my ribcage to solar plexus. It was a more intimate and intense experience in the narrow street than anything I'd seen in the Jardin. + +Vibrations are an important part of many ceremonies. As anyone who's spent a good bit of time either vibrating with their voice or sitting in front of something that vibrates your whole body can tell you, it has profound effects after a while. + +This is probably best known as a negative thing, as in the PTSD many soldiers get from being too close to too many explosions. The shock waves have [permanent and lasting negative effects](https://www.nytimes.com/2016/06/10/us/ptsd-blast-waves-research.html). But there are more positive effects to vibration when it arrives in smaller, saner doses. The effect is similar, just lower dosage you might say. This is why rhythmic chanting and other ways of vibrating your own body are so often a part of religious ceremonies -- they are a quick and easy way to change brain states (among other things). + + + +I sat in the middle of the street and watched them dance their way up and down in a slow looping ellipse, feeling the drums vibrate inside me while the dancers' foot work, with ankle rattles attached, filled the mid tone space, and hand held shakers hissed in at the high end of the rhythmic scale. It was a wall of percussion that all fit together, making something larger than the sum of the parts. + + + + +I'm still not sure what the occasion was, or why they were in town. It was the weekend of Benito Juarez's birthday, which could have been the reason. Earlier in the day there was a parade just up the street from our house, which also could have had something to do with Juarez's birthday, though it looked more like Halloween than anything. + + + + + +Sometimes there's no discernible reason for a parade. Even the locals standing on the street around us seemed a little mystified by it all. Or perhaps that was annoyance since the parade held up all the buses headed out of town for a good hour or so. On the weekend many people just want to get the market, get their food for the week, and head home. Damn the parades. + +But they're Mexican, so they waited patiently, with almost no outward sign of irritation, certainly not anger, though, if Octavio Paz is correct, there might be plenty of irritation and anger behind the public mask. + +I'm not sure if Paz is right, sweeping general statements about an entire culture have severe rounding errors, nor an I sure that keeping everything behind a mask is a good thing. Anger has its place, it's a natural, common human emotion. Still, I do admire the Mexican ability to keep it in check, especially in one particular circumstance I encounter nearly every time I head out the door - northerners behaving badly. + +There's no shortage of bad behavior by northerners around here, but Mexicans never confront it. At least as far as I've seen. That is a choice after all -- confronting and complaining about the things you don't like. It's one I generally choose, but you can also choose, as my neighbors do, to ignore it all. Or, as I suspect, to store it up for gossip in the evenings, when everyone comes out into the streets to gather around the grills and cookers to eat, gossip, and laugh. My Spanish isn't good enough to say for sure, but I suspect some of this talk is all the crazy and annoying things that gringos did in the neighborhood that day. + +Or maybe I'm wrong. Maybe Paz is wrong too. It's impossible to know as an outsider, and even when you're an insider, part of the culture, can you speak for everyone? We like to sort the world, to group individuals together by common traits, behaviors, beliefs. Sometimes there do seem to be currents of thought and idea running common among us, the backbeat of our dreams perhaps. Other times though those who would speak for all of us are really speaking of themselves, for themselves. Sometimes I think we'd all be better off if more of us spoke only of ourselves, for ourselves without assuming anyone else thinks, feels, or dreams the same. + +> Modern man likes to pretend that his thinking is wide-awake. But this wide-awake thinking has led us into the maze of a nightmare in which the torture chambers are endlessly repeated in the mirrors of reason. When we emerge, perhaps we will realize that we have been dreaming with our eyes open, and that the dreams of reason are intolerable. And then, perhaps, we will begin to dream once more with our eyes closed. –Octavio Paz diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/cascarones.html b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/cascarones.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c3502d8 --- /dev/null +++ b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/cascarones.html @@ -0,0 +1,640 @@ + + + + + Cascarones And Machete Dancing - by Scott Gilbertson + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
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Cascarones and Machete Dancing

+

Something like Carnaval in San Miguel

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+
+

San Miguel de Allende, Mexico

+ – Map +
+ + +
+
+
+

The weekend before Ash Wednesday is Carnival, marking (roughly) the beginning of Lent. Lent is an odd duck to me, but then all the various religions growing out of the Arabian deserts are odd ducks to me.

+

When faced with deprivation, followers go on a spree of excess, which is considered a sin, but then you can “repent” and all is magically forgiven.

+
+ + + + paroqia, san miguel de allende, mexico photographed by luxagraf + + + + + + smirking virgin mary, mexico photographed by luxagraf + + + +
+ +

On one hand I think this idea that you can do whatever you want and later be absolved is the source of most of what’s wrong with western culture. It’s the source of our environmental and social problems and I think in hindsight will be seen as the bit of philosophy that landed us in history’s dustbin way ahead of schedule.

+

On the other hand, who doesn’t love a big party in the streets?

+

Unfortunately, just as Candelaria fades the further you go north, Carnival seems to fade the further north you get from Brazil. Which isn’t to say Mexico doesn’t celebrate at all — by most accounts Mazatlan is the place to be for Carnival — but here in San Miguel de Allende it’s been reduced to día de los cascarones, or day of the confetti eggs.

+

It’s good fun for the kids anyway.

+

Cascarones are eggs that have been drained and filled with confetti. Or glitter or flour. They’re colorfully painted, cost less than 50 cents a dozen and exist primarily to smash on someone’s head. What’s not to love?

+
+ + Dia de los Cascarones, san miguel de allende, mexico photographed by luxagraf + +
+ +
+ + Dia de los Cascarones, san miguel de allende, mexico photographed by luxagraf + +
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+ + Dia de los Cascarones, san miguel de allende, mexico photographed by luxagraf + +
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+ + Dia de los Cascarones, san miguel de allende, mexico photographed by luxagraf + +
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+ + Dia de los Cascarones, san miguel de allende, mexico photographed by luxagraf + +
+ +

Aside from a few vendors hawking giant crepe paper flowers, some glittery masks, and various hand-made puppets to tourists, the only other sign of anything happening in relation to Carnival was the indigenous dancers. One night I took the girls up to the Jardin to watch the drumming and dancing.

+
+ + indigenous dancers, san miguel de allende, mexico photographed by luxagraf + +
+ +

Most of the dancing groups we’ve seen quite a few times at this point, but there was one that was new to me who had drumming punctuated by machetes clanking like cymbals, by far my favorites from a musical point of view.

+
+ + indigenous dancers, san miguel de allende, mexico photographed by luxagraf + +
+ +

The dancers all wore white outfits with red fringing and large feather head dresses. They would dance in a circle and then at some point in the rhythm, form up into two lines of four or five people all facing each other. The footwork moved with the drums, but the hands then clanged the flat side of the machete blade against that of the partner opposite them. The line then shifted and everyone lined up with a different person and the melody and rhythm repeated. When they reached the end of the line they broke into a circle again.

+

+

The kids loved everything about día de los cascarones so much they dragged me back up the next morning to see if there was anything still happening. There wasn’t. No one’s kidding about the “día” part, but we did get to see the entire square in the Jardin covered in flour, evidence that the night before had gotten considerably messier after we headed home.

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You might also enjoy
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4 Comments

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+ Gwen + March 27, 2019 at 5:44 p.m. +
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Fascinating to hear the audio of the machetes! While I see your point about excess and Lent and agree that many folks probably practice what you characterized here, I don’t think it’s the whole picture. While I have never practiced Lent, I do know sincere folks who give up something in order to focus more specifically on Christ’s sacrifice. They aren’t trying to receive a magical absolution. It’s more about sincere faith. At any rate, that’s my perspective…

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+ Gwen macallister + March 27, 2019 at 6:56 p.m. +
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Also, my kids would love the cascarones! Pure awesomeness.

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+ Scott + March 27, 2019 at 10:05 p.m. +
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Gwen-

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I probably shouldn’t have printed that, I’m sure it offended quite a few of my Christian friends.

+

But since I did, might as well double down: I don’t have a problem with Lent especially, I have a problem with the whole notion of absolution.

+

It’s easy to look down on something when it doesn’t have meaning in your worldview, but it seems very easy to make last-minute absolution the gateway to a two-faced and insincere life and I am suspicious of it for that reason.

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I think it’s how you get the pious mob boss killing all week, but in the front row of mass on Sunday, the racist belting out hymns and more broadly seems to have been picked up and reworked by materialists into the notion that something is going to save us from ourselves (technology, science, what have you depending on who’s talking).

+

I think it was Jack Forbes who wrote something to the effect of one cannot fool the spiritual world by uttering words that contradict what is in one’s heart, what one intends. And to understand yourself well enough to recognize your intentions for what they are, let alone change them to be what you desire them to be, takes a lot of work (more than I have done certainly).

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Absolution seems to me to come along and say hey, why bother with intentions, you can be absolved of those no problem. And I think that’s a very dangerous line of logic within the religious context and even more so when it gets pulled outside of it.

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All that said, I am always happy to be proved wrong.

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+ Gwen + March 28, 2019 at 11:57 a.m. +
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I appreciate your thoughtful response and hearing your perspective. I agree there is much hypocrisy among believers along with problematic theology. Romans 6 addresses this issue. (“Are we to sin because we are not under law but under grace? By no means!” Romans 6:15)

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Thoughts?

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Please leave a reply:

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All comments are moderated, so you won’t see it right away. And please remember Kurt Vonnegut's rule: “god damn it, you’ve got to be kind.” You can use Markdown or HTML to format your comments. The allowed tags are <b>, <i>, <em>, <strong>, <a>. To create a new paragraph hit return twice.

+ + +
+ +
+ + + + +
+ + + + + + + diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/cascarones.txt b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/cascarones.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..80933ae --- /dev/null +++ b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/cascarones.txt @@ -0,0 +1,51 @@ +Cascarones and Machete Dancing +============================== + + by Scott Gilbertson + + Sunday, 03 March 2019 + +The weekend before Ash Wednesday is Carnival, marking (roughly) the beginning of Lent. Lent is an odd duck to me, but then all the various religions growing out of the Arabian deserts are odd ducks to me. + +When faced with deprivation, followers go on a spree of excess, which is considered a sin, but then you can "repent" and all is magically forgiven. + +
+ + + + +
+ +On one hand I think this idea that you can do whatever you want and later be absolved is the source of most of what's wrong with western culture. It's the source of our environmental and social problems and I think in hindsight will be seen as the bit of philosophy that landed us in history's dustbin way ahead of schedule. + +On the other hand, who doesn't love a big party in the streets? + +Unfortunately, just as Candelaria fades the further you go north, Carnival seems to fade the further north you get from Brazil. Which isn't to say Mexico doesn't celebrate at all -- by most accounts Mazatlan is the place to be for Carnival -- but here in San Miguel de Allende it's been reduced to día de los cascarones, or day of the confetti eggs. + +It's good fun for the kids anyway. + +Cascarones are eggs that have been drained and filled with confetti. Or glitter or flour. They're colorfully painted, cost less than 50 cents a dozen and exist primarily to smash on someone's head. What's not to love? + + + + + + + +Aside from a few vendors hawking giant crepe paper flowers, some glittery masks, and various hand-made puppets to tourists, the only other sign of anything happening in relation to Carnival was the indigenous dancers. One night I took the girls up to the Jardin to watch the drumming and dancing. + + + +Most of the dancing groups we've seen quite a few times at this point, but there was one that was new to me who had drumming punctuated by machetes clanking like cymbals, by far my favorites from a musical point of view. + + + +The dancers all wore white outfits with red fringing and large feather head dresses. They would dance in a circle and then at some point in the rhythm, form up into two lines of four or five people all facing each other. The footwork moved with the drums, but the hands then clanged the flat side of the machete blade against that of the partner opposite them. The line then shifted and everyone lined up with a different person and the melody and rhythm repeated. When they reached the end of the line they broke into a circle again. + + + +The kids loved everything about día de los cascarones so much they dragged me back up the next morning to see if there was anything still happening. There wasn't. No one's kidding about the "día" part, but we did get to see the entire square in the Jardin covered in flour, evidence that the night before had gotten considerably messier after we headed home. diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/visa-run.html b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/visa-run.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0a6a353 --- /dev/null +++ b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/visa-run.html @@ -0,0 +1,518 @@ + + + + + Visa Run - by Scott Gilbertson + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
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Visa Run

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Checking in on the bus

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Plano, Texas, U.S.

+ – Map +
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I’m not aware of another country with a tourist visa process that’s as simple and generous as what Mexico offers. You show up at the border, you get six months in the country. Cross over the border, come back, another six months. I’ve met people who have been doing this for years, which is silly really because getting a resident card is about as simple as it gets too.

+

We recently reached the end of our six month visa, and the end of bus storage situation, so we headed back to Dallas for a week to visit family and move the bus to a new storage location.

+

Our travel day started about 5 AM. It was a strangely foggy morning, the world muted and blurry at the edges. We walked a mile or so down to the bus station in San Miguel and caught a bus to Mexico City. The age of the chicken bus is long past in Mexico, or at least the necessity for it, these are smooth sleek buses far nicer than the plane we’d be on later in the day.

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+ + low clouds over the hills of guanajuato photographed by luxagraf + +
+ +
+ + bus ride to mexico city photographed by luxagraf + +
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+ + bus ride to mexico city photographed by luxagraf + +
+ +

We made it to Mexico City around noon and caught a cab across the city to the airport. We made an amateur mistake in not eating at the bus station and had to settle for some pretty awful airport food, but it passed the hours before our flight at least.

+
+ +
+ + Looking out the window of the plane over mexico city photographed by luxagraf +
Mexico City is unbelievable from the air, it goes on and on and on. What’s even more staggering is it’s not even the largest city in the world anymore.
+
+ + + + + + On the plane flight to Dallas photographed by luxagraf + + + + + + + on the plane photographed by luxagraf + + + + + + On the plane to the US photographed by luxagraf + + + +
+ +

The flight up from Mexico City had probably a dozen kids on it, more than any flight I’ve ever been on which made it kind of fun because kids love everything about flying. It was a laughing, shrieking, happy kind of flight. And it was funny to watch the handful of people without kids frowning in their seats about the raucousness of their fellow passengers.

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At first I barely even noticed it. I’m so used to kids being allowed to be, well, kids that I didn’t even think about it. Mexico loves children. The only other place I’ve been that’s as kid-friendly is India. Yesterday I was running some errands around town with the girls. We stopped to buy tortillas and the woman working at the tortilla shop gave them each a fresh warm tortilla. We went to the carnitas shop and the man working there gave them each a napkinful of carnitas to eat while he packaged up our order. And then, walking home, two random strangers handed the girls some beautiful paper flowers because… Mexico loves children. It wasn’t until I got up and walked down the aisle to the bathroom that I noticed people, yes Americans, giving me dirty looks. Which was funny because our kids weren’t the ones making noise. Guilt by association I guess.

+

No one said anything though and we made it to Dallas, fourteen hours of travel later. It wasn’t as bad as that probably sounds.

+

Our kids were super excited to be back in Dallas, see their relatives and jump in the pool. No amount of warning would put them off the pool, it’s going to be cold we told them. Didn’t care. Until they got in the water. Then they cared.

+

To their credit though they did get in. The water was 62 degrees. Both girls swam across the pool a couple times on two different days. I used to surf in the ocean in those temps (without a wetsuit) all the time when I was younger, but I’ve gone soft. I didn’t even think about getting in.

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+ + Swimming in the pool, Dallas, TX photographed by luxagraf + +
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+ + swimming pool, dallas texas photographed by luxagraf + +
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At one point the hot tub got turned on, which proved a much bigger hit. There was also the trampoline to jump around on and warm up.

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+ + bobcat, dallas texas photographed by luxagraf + +
Not a house cat.
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+ +

While we mostly played and worked, we did make a trip down to the bus to move it to its new temporary home. Everything was as we left it, she fired and drove without major protest, though the gas is clearly at the end of its lifespan, I may have to siphon some out when we get back again.

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Up until the moment we climbed in I think we were all pretty happy in Mexico. And then we got in the bus. There was no one else around. We all sort of stood there looking at each other for a minute and then Corrinne said I miss our home.

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+ + The bus, dallas photographed by luxagraf + +
Moving to its new (temporary) home.
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The kids ran back to their room and grabbed the toys and books and clothes they’ve been missing. I surveyed the batteries, crack the doghouse and looked the engine over. And then… it fired it right up. The wire fell off the ignition coil after about a minute and it died, which temporarily freaked me out until I opened the doghouse again and immediately saw the problem.

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After that I had no problems driving the bus and Volvo down to a nearby RV park where we’re storing them. It’s not ideal, but it’ll do for a few more months. We’ll give it lots of love when we get back later this year. Stay tuned.

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+ + + + + + + diff --git a/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/visa-run.txt b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/visa-run.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..50f18e9 --- /dev/null +++ b/bak/oldluxpages/jrnlold/2019/03/visa-run.txt @@ -0,0 +1,60 @@ +Visa Run +======== + + by Scott Gilbertson + + Wednesday, 27 March 2019 + +I'm not aware of another country with a tourist visa process that's as simple and generous as what Mexico offers. You show up at the border, you get six months in the country. Cross over the border, come back, another six months. I've met people who have been doing this for years, which is silly really because getting a resident card is about as simple as it gets too. + +We recently reached the end of our six month visa, and the end of bus storage situation, so we headed back to Dallas for a week to visit family and move the bus to a new storage location. + +Our travel day started about 5 AM. It was a strangely foggy morning, the world muted and blurry at the edges. We walked a mile or so down to the bus station in San Miguel and caught a bus to Mexico City. The age of the chicken bus is long past in Mexico, or at least the necessity for it, these are smooth sleek buses far nicer than the plane we'd be on later in the day. + + + + + +We made it to Mexico City around noon and caught a cab across the city to the airport. We made an amateur mistake in not eating at the bus station and had to settle for some pretty awful airport food, but it passed the hours before our flight at least. + +
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+ +The flight up from Mexico City had probably a dozen kids on it, more than any flight I've ever been on which made it kind of fun because kids love everything about flying. It was a laughing, shrieking, happy kind of flight. And it was funny to watch the handful of people without kids frowning in their seats about the raucousness of their fellow passengers. + + + +At first I barely even noticed it. I'm so used to kids being allowed to be, well, kids that I didn't even think about it. Mexico loves children. The only other place I've been that's as kid-friendly is India. Yesterday I was running some errands around town with the girls. We stopped to buy tortillas and the woman working at the tortilla shop gave them each a fresh warm tortilla. We went to the carnitas shop and the man working there gave them each a napkinful of carnitas to eat while he packaged up our order. And then, walking home, two random strangers handed the girls some beautiful paper flowers because... Mexico loves children. It wasn't until I got up and walked down the aisle to the bathroom that I noticed people, yes Americans, giving me dirty looks. Which was funny because our kids weren't the ones making noise. Guilt by association I guess. + +No one said anything though and we made it to Dallas, fourteen hours of travel later. It wasn't as bad as that probably sounds. + +Our kids were super excited to be back in Dallas, see their relatives and jump in the pool. No amount of warning would put them off the pool, it's going to be cold we told them. Didn't care. Until they got in the water. Then they cared. + +To their credit though they did get in. The water was 62 degrees. Both girls swam across the pool a couple times on two different days. I used to surf in the ocean in those temps (without a wetsuit) all the time when I was younger, but I've gone soft. I didn't even think about getting in. + + + + +At one point the hot tub got turned on, which proved a much bigger hit. There was also the trampoline to jump around on and warm up. + + + +While we mostly played and worked, we did make a trip down to the bus to move it to its new temporary home. Everything was as we left it, she fired and drove without major protest, though the gas is clearly at the end of its lifespan, I may have to siphon some out when we get back again. + +Up until the moment we climbed in I think we were all pretty happy in Mexico. And then we got in the bus. There was no one else around. We all sort of stood there looking at each other for a minute and then Corrinne said I miss our home. + + + +The kids ran back to their room and grabbed the toys and books and clothes they've been missing. I surveyed the batteries, crack the doghouse and looked the engine over. And then... it fired it right up. The wire fell off the ignition coil after about a minute and it died, which temporarily freaked me out until I opened the doghouse again and immediately saw the problem. + +After that I had no problems driving the bus and Volvo down to a nearby RV park where we're storing them. It's not ideal, but it'll do for a few more months. We'll give it lots of love when we get back later this year. Stay tuned. -- cgit v1.2.3-70-g09d2