Author: Luis Menchu

Another day of classes in Spanish and ceramics. Between classes I am spoiled by comida (mid-day meal) with my host family. Bertha spoils me with a delicious and bountiful meal. Not every day will include these meals so I am enjoying them now. These first two days a short siesta follows comida before returning for ceramics.

Day two in ceramics found us evolving our creations (mine is the slug mug) from rough forms into smooth vessels. This process starts with smoothing the surface with a stick. As it gets smoother a stone or glass vial (did not ask what the liquid in the vial is) is rubbed on the surface to get a nice sheen. A soft sheen is the goal, I’m not sure mine would pass maestra’s expectations.

Our maestra is masterful, funny and loving. A few moments of her touch on our work is magically helpful. Maestra can quickly create amazing works while we struggle. In our efforts we were reminded by maestra that perfection is not the goal. Machines can create perfect copies but we are creating art with a soul and with the unique qualities only our touch can impart.

Our works of imperfection also include a touch of maestra’s soul, making them so much more truly perfect.

Cultural class is ceramics. Enedina, our maestra, is truly amazing and very patient. I’m not sure she liked my Northwest inspired work but she did seem to think I did well my first time working ceramics.

Our teacher started when she was 8. Apparently her maestra was not so patient and would recycle pieces not meeting her expectations. Our class included a 6 year old girl who seems to be a natural.

Magnificent churches abound in Oaxaca. Each spellbinding in its own mystical manner.

Santo Domingo welcomes the world with its neighborly plaza and grand facade. I approached Santa Domingo from the side enjoying the view towards the zocalo and the church bells ringing. I had noticed what I thought was a pulley wheel oddly jutting from the side wall with a cord snaking up at an angle towards the tower. As the bells rang this pulley jerked back and forth. From so far away this mechanism rang in services.

Mass in Santo Domingo was touching though somewhat foreign. Offerings of peace brought a warmth of humanity for this stranger amongst the pews.

The same warmth bathed my first day in Oaxaca. The welcome of my homestay family, shared smiles in the streets, common laughter at a fiesta, joy found in the raucous play of children. Warmth abounds in Oaxaca.

A long day of travel day found us all well in Oaxaca. Our group hung together during the trip sharing our delight at this opportunity to study Spanish and learn about Oaxacan culture.

Arriving late at my home stay, my first goal was to take comfort and prepare for the days ahead. My home stay is in a comfortable home hosted by sweet Bertha and her family. I rested looking forward to the promises of tomorrow — my first opportunity to truly experience Oaxaca and explore its charms.

The first morning I was awakened by repetitive beats of thunder. No, too fast. Gunfire? No, safe to ignore the concerns expressed by media. Fireworks? Yes, celebrations perhaps for the ongoing elections. The boom of fireworks quickly subsided, replaced by the morning chatter of birds busy socializing this Sunday morning.

Later this first morning in Oaxaca it was enheartening to see my host family set off to vote in their presidential elections. Voting here seems to be important and part of the social fabric with my family joined in this election outing by their extended family and children. (Later I did learn more about why presidential elections are an important and sensitive matter in Oaxaca.)

In Oregon we benefit from the ease of voting by mail but I do miss and think we lose some of our social fabric by not having walk-in elections giving us a chance to connect with our neighbors.

A set of thoughts strung together hopefully as a poetic journal of one evening’s dinner mission (i.e., “Ya gotta go here!”) in Philadelphia.

Message at God’s house
August’s fulfillment

Cab to Jeno’s
Numbers rising

While fingers count
Darkness bends to light

Grease hangs in air
Destination come

Crowds imagined, gone
Untasted now tasted

Wrappings discarded
Mystery passed

Left on foot
Food surrounds

Speaking only English
In little Mexico

Markets shuttered
Curiosity set aside

Turning now
Light tempts

Walking steadily
Perhaps not wise

A man said no
All is well

Feet uncovered
Now wealth surrounds

Flowers held
Quick backward glances

Meet a hero
Stumbling forth

Not tonight
A hero’s lament

Questions of a girl
Playing the fools

Walnuts appear
Broad views subside

Wine and cigarettes lead
Directions come

Thank the studded one
Counting down

Sweet Bangkok’s found
Peter and Paul’s quest

One path found
Three tiered souls

New journeys begin
Until truth is found

Sweetness, a nice darling touch of sweetness. All it took was my daughter offering to do the dishes on her own so I could watch my one favorite show. I didn’t have to demand, ask or even suggest. Enjoy these little moments, they are sweet.

I wonder if it’s as confusing being a 12-year-old as it is to be a 12-year-old’s parent. On my part I’m not always sure who or what I am to her. I’m positive I don’t hold the same place in her life that I used to but as soon as I think that I’ll do something silly and find out how devastating my inappropriate reaction to her can be.

At times it feels I can’t do the right thing. If I ignore her too much I’ll know about it soon enough. If I pay too much attention, she shoos me away. I suppose she’s looking for freedom, well, safe freedom. “Let me do what I want but make sure you are there if I need you.”

One day a week we are together downtown for the evening. It’s always enjoyable as we walk and talk about the day. Dinner is in a local food court. After she eats she may visit a shop while I finish my meal. If the shop she is visiting is behind me, after she leaves the table I will change seats to keep the shop within eye site. Undoubtedly upon returning she makes a comment on my new sitting position. Of course I reply with some made-up reason such as, “It is quieter sitting in this direction.” I’m sure she knows this is a bit silly and I think she in some way appreciates my true intent even though she may express exasperation at my silliness.

While I may not always know where I fit in her life at any given a moment I do cherish that our relationship seems better than concerns I hear from other parents. One mother asked me, “Does she still enjoy being with you and is she still talking to you?” A moment of hesitation met the question because this is a scenario that had not entered my consciousness and in no way reflects our reality. Maybe that is a reality for a future not far from now but I prefer to keep that possibility out of my relationship scenario-bank.

We are entering a stage in her life that everyone seemed to warn of. I remember talking to parents of older girls and noting to myself that, “I’ll stick with seven-year-old girl problems.” The seven-year-old girl problems are gone now and so far we’ve been lucky with the pre-teen problems. There have been more discussions about changes with behavior, social discussions, and more privileges permitted friends. Many wants have gone unanswered although we are by no means making her live a 19th century life. (Maybe that’s too far back, let’s say she is by no means leading a 20th century life.) Her world includes Wii, an iPod Touch and Netflix but, unlike “most” friends, no full-out phone. She is smart and has figured out that an iPod with Wi-Fi access is a phone but this doesn’t quite meet her socially influenced expectations — being tethered to a wireless connection. (Our evenings do often include a little time sitting outside the Apple store borrowing their wireless access.)

Of course we worry about excessive exposure to an electronic life and set boundaries but I’m not sure it is worse than the excessive exposure to Gilligan’s Island, Batman and goofy sitcoms that we grew up with. When the favorite show is material like the new Dr. Who I think we’re doing okay. When a girl, who ironically thinks of her dad as a nerd, wants to leave a party to enjoy a Dr. Who marathon — a nerd-fest of major proportion — one can only smile and be pleased.