Tids and Bits

Sometimes things show up that just make you chuckle, surprise you or that you shake your head in amazement, as in, “How in the world???” Here are some musings on that kind of thing here in Punta Abreojos, or Mexico, as I have experienced it so far:

~Did you know that here the twisty ties on things like bread are all twisted the opposite way from those in the US? Sorta explains the hot/cold faucet handles being ‘backwards’ too!

~Punta Abreojos is a wonderfully progressive town of about 1600 people. We have a couple of ‘larger’ markets (and that is a very relative word…), a social or hall where most celebrations are held, and a coffee house on the water. It serves the fisherman who launch their pangas each day from the beach out front. You can even get a cappuccino if you want; it comes from a vending style machine, but you can get one!

They have ice cream too, and it’s pretty tasty. Being a former employee of Baskin Robbins (when I was 16) I can assert that their scooping technique leaves much to be desired, but usually there are about 5-6 flavor choices and it has become our Saturday treat. And I know some tricks to getting my scoop securely onto the cone – I will not lose it!

However, I am sidetracking. I was speaking of how progressive our town is. Our malecon (ocean-front street) is paved, lighted, has benches with a children’s play area and both sides of the street have sidewalks. In fact we have sidewalks on many of the town streets, well 2 of them anyway…. But the most progressive part of it all is that each corner, paved or not, had a handicap ramp that is clearly marked with the proper blue insignia. Some city/town planner worked very diligently to be sure that everyone would be able to mount the sidewalks, even if they are not yet installed.

Trouble is, once up the ramp, a hard right or left turn must be negotiated, as usually the sidewalk ends abruptly on one side.

And if that’s possible, the continuing sidewalk is extremely narrow - about 2 feet wide.

And if you happen to have a wheelchair that narrow shortly you must maneuver around the planter boxes dug out of the sidewalk, leaving roughly 12” of walking or wheeling space.

And then, often the entry steps of a house will spill across the sidewalk completely blocking it. But we have handicap ramps on almost every corner!

~Latin America is well known to be a patriarchal society. Machismos is alive and well, but ask any of the expats, ’Who runs the town?’ and you will get the same answer -the women! No bars are allowed in town. I heard that once there was one, but the women decided that it was not healthy and it was closed. (I also heard the same about a whore house.) I asked one of the local ladies, a business woman who runs a motel /restaurant, about this and Chelo replied,” If things are going to change here, it will be because of the women. If you want something done give it to a woman! A man will either drink it, smoke it or *#@%  it.” Hmmmmm….

On that note, the only bar remotely close to town happens to be behind our house, up the hill about 500 yards. It serves only beer and tequila, and is limited to Fri, Sat and Sun nights from dark until about 1 or 2 a.m. A couple of hours before opening the owner, Ilberto, fires up the generator and the cars slowly make their way the 2 miles or so from town to La Beliza, cruising the water’s edge as they come. The bar has no name but there is a big Corona sign painted on the side of the building. And to make it even more interesting, it is a karaoke bar! We are very grateful that it is behind us so that the wind carries most of the noise away from our house. Some nights the howling voices are pretty – well, let us say interesting… Sadly our neighbors Ed, Mona and Jerry hear it all. I’ve never heard any recognizable song, but then maybe it’s probably all in Spanish…

~A wonderful thing about the Mexican people is that they celebrate what is now. They don’t put off what can be enjoyed. Life is to be lived! If a birthday falls on Wed, then by goodness the party will be on Wed! And if it’s beautiful then it’ll begin in the afternoon and last until the wee hours of the morning! Heck, about a month ago there was a wedding at noon on Friday. After all, why wait?

With all the quirks and surprises, I love this place! I am never bored and its beauty is a source of constant amazement to me. I am ever so glad that I can share it with you!

Why Have I Waited?

What in the world took me so long to do this?!

I am standing by the water’s edge, looking out across the bay at the raw beauty that is Baja, my home for the time being. The sun is shining on the water, deep blue and turquoise; the breeze is still pleasantly light and each day I discover something new. (Yesterday it was badgers borrowing into the beach sand to stay cool, and the day before that, scorpions!)There is such abundance, such earth connectedness. I am drawn in by some unseen force that beckons me deeper and deeper still.

I ask myself why I waited so long to leave my hometown and I know there are many answers, layers deep. I am willing to look at all the reasons. Much of it comes down to fear of the unknown, but really, isn’t life full of unknowns? So often we think that if we put ourselves into a routine we’ll have control, but we know that isn’t really true. How many times has that been disproved by surprises? The old saying, ‘At least I know what I’ve got’ is a very limiting point of view!

A teacher I once knew shared, “If you find yourself saying, ’I should this and I should that’, you’re just shoulding all over yourself!”  While another deeply respected teacher and friend advises, ‘I can and I will!’ So here I am, enjoying the beauty of nature all around me, free of schedules and traffic, should-do’s and obligations.

That is not to say that I am not creating. Heavens no! Each day I continue to create a bit of paradise right here in each thing I do. Yes, I am currently painting the exterior doors of the casita, not my most pleasurable task, but I sure like the results. (3 aqua, 1 deep turquoise. Can’t wait to get the house paint down here and the walls done!) And I still have chores that I prefer to get accomplished, like sweeping and house cleaning, but then I go off to my studio next door and spend hours lost in canvas, paint and paper. And there’s beach walks, swimming (the water is about 73 degrees now), trips into town, books to read, and well, the days just pass by so quickly…….

But I think one of the most beautiful lessons that I am learning here is I can.  If I can dream it, I can do it. I can go anywhere; I am not limited by anything other than my own beliefs. Letting go of the need to please others, to ‘fit in’, to be someone/something that I am not has given me a freedom I never fully appreciated until now. When I deeply explore it, so much of how I have lived my life has been predicated on the belief that I had to behave a certain way in order to be loved. But when I look even deeper, I find that I am love, so I need not look for it any place else.

And thus I am free in Unconditional Love.

Sigh……

xxoo

Sand, multi media on canvas, 24" x 48"

Artist and copyright Jill Mollenhauer 2011

for more information www.jillmollenhauer.com

Angels on my Doorstep

It’s amazing how sometimes we don’t see something that is right under our very own nose! We expect things to be a certain way and thus, that is exactly how we look for it, never attuned to the possibility that it might appear differently…..

Living in San Diego my garden was so filled with birds, blue jays, mockingbirds, black phoebes, goldfinch, doves, hawks, sparrows, and some little brown birds that I always called my ‘angel birds’  because they always brought an extra smile to my face. (But truthfully they all felt like angels to me.) Their songs delighted me and I took great pleasure in watching them bathing, feeding, catching insects, even squabbling, I loved it all and I decided that I certainly wanted to continue the tradition here in Punta Abreojos.

Just before leaving, I googled ‘Birds of Baja’ and found several I figured I could entice into my garden here (such as it is). On previous visits I’d seen very few song birds, but figured that with quail, doves, hummingbirds and (supposedly) phoebes, I certainly could make a go of it!

I researched the proper bird seed mix for the area (Desert Blend) and exactly how to feed them (no raised dishes, directly on the ground, only 1 day’s food at a time so no varmints or mold get it.) Then I called my favorite bird store in S.D. to see about Desert Blend, however they didn’t carry it and time had run out for an internet order, so I departed with only a small amount of left over Patio Mix seed carefully stored in a container for future use. Upon arrival I began watching for their presence and patterns hoping to find the best way to invite them over.

For the 1^st month I watched and waited. The coo of a dove made me run outside to find out where it was and where to place some seed. Always their paths were behind the house and up the hill. I noticed that my neighbor Ed occasionally has quail and other small birds come through his garden. I found myself becoming envious and I began to resign myself to the possibility that all the birds would stay behind the house, in the open areas where they had more space and cover.

On the2nd day here while crossing the driveway, a pelican, none too gracefully, plopped itself not 10 feet in front of me. His crash landing made me think for a moment that perhaps he was injured. I had never been so close to one. They are very large! We stared at each other for a good 5 minutes until I had to continue my task and with that he flew away as pretty as you please. Hmmmm…..

I am not exactly sure when it dawned on me; I am pretty sure that it was the day I hit my head on the kayak. Three times that day an osprey appeared close to me, twice sitting on a roadside post while I was on my walk and once it flew not 2 feet off the patio, dropping a gift directly in front of me. Hello! What am I doing?! Here I am looking for birds, my angels, to come in a certain form, when duh! Open your eyes Jill!

When we arrived there were 3000 terns out front on the beach, day after day, diving, fishing, teaching their young to fly. For weeks they gathered here and we marveled at their numbers, and then enjoyed the quiet when they finally spread to some other beaches too.

After that the pelicans began arriving by the hundreds to fish the evening bait balls in the surf out front. Hours were spent watching them gracefully skim the water’s surface, catch an updraft, turn suddenly and crash into the water, repeating the whole thing over and over again. And now brown gulls have begun to intermix with the pelicans. Lots of them.

I had been looking for my birds, my angels, to appear as I expected it, as song birds, and all along they have been here in abundance! I just wasn’t seeing it….I don’t have to do anything to attract my angels, no seed, no water, nothing! They have been here all around me, just waiting to be recognized.

So often, in love, work or play, we want it our way, just so, never opening to the possibility that we can receive in a myriad of unique and different ways! Why do we limit what we will receive? And yet, such is often the case; I see how I had done just that. Now I am so much more pleased with everything around me. I stopped limiting my abundance.

You’d think I’d remember this lesson because the irony of it all is that the tag line for my garden sculpture business is “Why Garden Angels? …because angels come in unexpected forms.”

Sunrise

I choose to live an extraordinary life. One filled with wonder, awe and beauty. I choose to face all that is presented with bravery, standing in the knowledge that I am always supported in my choices. If I step forth and claim all that is mine, all that is me, I stand firmly and squarely in the depths of my own self. I create with joy and ease, delighting in the ever present inspiration all around me.

What wonders await me today?                                

I am strong. I am beautiful. And I am creative.

And so are you….

Sunrise (Baja Landscapes #2)
artist and copyright: Jill Mollenhauer

Morning Kayak

The day had begun so beautifully. Who would have thought that just shortly thereafter I’d be standing knee deep in water, holding my head with blood running down the side of my face?

Up before dawn we had launched the tandem kayak off the beach in front of the house.  With small waves and not a breath of wind, we were looking forward to a glorious sunrise over the water and maybe even catching up to the dolphins we had just spotted off shore.  Swiftly paddling away from the beach we turned right to follow the shoreline and the dolphins. Up ahead a huge bait ball attracted hundreds of birds. Pelicans, gulls and terns were excitedly dive-bombing for breakfast and all around small fish could be seen jumping out of the water trying to escape the water predators. We glided along soaking up the experience, enjoying the rising sun and the play of light on water. Such exquisite colors!

I was amazed how easily the paddle out to the point was. There was a time, not long ago when that distance was a bit of a strain for me. And even though this was our first outing in over a year I found the workout easy. When we turned around to head back the photo ops were just too good to pass up. (Luckily I had purchased a waterproof camera last year!) ‘What a great way to start the day!’ I thought. A little bit of a workout and fun to boot. This is a definite must-do –more-often!

Now I admit that throughout my life I have never been much of a water person, but I have made a conscious effort to change that in the last few years. I mean why bring old baggage from lifetimes ago along for the ride? And after all Robert is a master in the water, having spent 8 tender years growing up in Hawaii, learning how to surf and all that that lifestyle brings with it. He can read the ocean like no one I have ever met, its tides, currents and dispositions. However sometimes he can’t read his wife as well….

Or maybe I should say that often when one is accomplished at something, one begins to forget that others may not be as attuned. As we headed for the beach I reminded him, several times, that if he put us in the waves I would be very unhappy. ‘Are we having a trust issue here, Jill?’ he questioned. No, just stating a comfort level for me and that he’d be wise to pay attention to what I was saying, unless he wanted to see me really unhappy. He reassured me that he’d never do anything to hurt me, (I know that!) and that I needed to have some faith in his knowledge of waves. (I do! But I don’t possess that!)

He skirted the breakers on the reef (a little too close for my total comfort, but ‘show some gumption here,’ I told myself) and pointed the nose towards the beach.  ‘Ok, we’re going to ride the wild surf and catch a wave in!’ He began to sing Ride the Wild Surf, by some 60’s beach group. And truthfully, the waves were maybe about knee high, so the song seemed rather silly but caught in my head as I began to paddle along to catch a ‘wild ‘ wave. But then something went wrong. Not terribly, just enough to send us broadside and tumble over.

Now according to me, sitting in the bow of the craft, the kayak dumped me in to the water – all 2 feet of it.  As I came up the kayak hit me in the head, and of course not the plastic body of it. No the little metal cleat that you clip the seats onto. Bang! I grabbed my head and glared at Robert, a death glare I am sure. He spouted,’ If you wouldn’t be so afraid of getting your head under water this wouldn’t have happened!’ My reply was swift and quite terse. Then I released my head and looked at my hand. The blood covering it said that there was a lot more on my head. I turned my palm to show him the results and instantly he was silenced. I noticed the kayak was starting to float away.

My anger subsided quickly; I knew I wasn’t hurt badly because heads always bleed a lot. He was immediately remorseful and went into overdrive to get me inside and attended to. I just hoped that no stiches were required as I did not relish the thought of a visit to the local clinic, but resigned myself to facing that possibility if necessary. After heating some water and washing my hair his verdict was that no trip was needed. He had to cut out a hunk of hair to clean the wound and I am sure that Debra, my hairdresser, will be wondering what on earth happened when I return to SD for my next haircut.

Now in the interest of equality I have to say that Robert saw the whole thing differently. He says that when kayak began to turn broadside I bailed out and in my instinct to not submerge my head I popped out of the water as the kayak bashed into me. (‘All surfers know that when you fall off your board, you don’t come right up because you could get hit in the head by the board!’ Oh….. I’m not a surfer.)

So it is highly possible that one or both of these points of view occurred, or another completely. Maybe we each co-created this to show ourselves something. I’m willing to look at that. And by now we’ve talked it through and discussed what should be done differently next time. (Lean into the wave as you get broadsided, he says.)

Robert has been the picture of attentiveness. I know he feels pretty bad. I thought I could milk it for an ice cream cone when we went to town for groceries, but then, I’ll live to kayak another day.  And it didn’t feel very truthful….

The Glow

There’s something here. I don’t know exactly how to explain it. It’s not something that has coalesced into my mind yet, but I know it. I can feel it. It’s in the Earth and it has a rhythm, a heartbeat. I guess this is what attracts those who come here so often to surf, fish, ride buggies, or just explore. They are aficionados who return again and again craving this heartbeat, though it seems to be veiled with a mask of ‘doing something’. I felt it the 1^st day here as we walked along the beach from our house. It was late afternoon and we strolled across the hard packed sand at the water’s edge delighting in the cool breeze and free movement after being car-confined for 2 days. We wandered about a mile or so down the beach and when we circled around to return I felt it. I saw it.

Right there, ahead of me, as I looked across the crescent beach back at La Beliza – the area where we’ve built. The land glowed. It pulsed; it radiated and an inner light shone through that was dazzling. I had not been here but 2 hours and I already had seen my 1^st painting. Sandwiched between ocean and sky, blues and greens like jewels, I saw this glowing orange heart in the strip of land. Fascinating…..

And this is what I have been attempting to capture on canvas. It has proved exhilarating and elusive. How to perfectly represent this beauty? It leaves me in awe. It is so much larger than life, so much deeper than what I have experienced here before and it seems that perhaps a whole new series will emerge from this – Baja Landscapes. My aim is to capture this feeling, this primal depth that revealed itself to me that day on the beach.

I walk often, sit and quietly breathe a lot, listening for any other secrets it cares to reveal. That fleeting glimpse into another dimension revealed something extraordinary, something elusive, something many return again and again to experience. Perhaps they know of what I speak? Or maybe not in words so much as desire, desire to be swallowed up whole once again by this Glow.

La Quincinera

“Ah, su vistido es muy linda,” I cooed with big eyes to the young woman in the midst of a gaggle of girls. Clearly she was quite proud of her turquoise, white and back zebra striped gown. She blushed, thanked me and then stepped aside to reveal another even more ornately decked out young lady all in white. Her gown had a sleeveless bustier, with a skirt so ruffled it floated out about her at least 3 feet in all directions. (I never did see her feet!) Her hair was beautifully coifed in an up-do with sparkly embellishments. When I made more gestures of appreciation she beamed a 24 karat smile, blushing demurely, yet clearly aware of her beauty and presence. This was a double quincinera!

When we had been invited a few days ago, we hesitated only because we know very few people in town and didn’t know if the invitation from our neighbors counted. Both Robert and I really wanted to experience some of the authentic culture, yet, we certainly did not wish to step upon any toes. Locals assured us, through Marianne and Tom, that yes, it was an open invitation to the community, and aren’t we now part of the community? So that is how we made our way to the town social building at 9:00 p.m. and joined the slow trickle of incoming guests.

The social is a large cement building that reverberates sound like no tomorrow, sports a massive dance floor (tile, of course) and a hefty stage to boot. Tables and chairs seating about 300 had been set up all around the floor. The turquoise and white color scheme was carried throughout the event from table cloths, centerpieces and column decorations, to the paper lanterns floating from the ceiling over the dance floor. The tall centerpieces were topped with sparkly turquoise sprays and could have been imagined at any wedding in the states, except for a noticeable difference. The base was cradling a bottle of tequila. And next to that was an ice bucket, a shaker of salt, some cups and a big bottle of Sprite. Do it yourself bartending. Gotta love it.

A quincinera is quite a big event for a young girl. It marks the time she leaves her childhood behind (age 15) and becomes a young woman. Ostensibly, it is a chance for her father to announce that she is now of marriage-able age. The cost of a quincinera is roughly equal to that of a wedding. The dresses certainly rivaled a wedding gown in grandeur, and feeding 300 people a sit down dinner, along with all that tequila and the 10 piece band clearly said that this was no ordinary party.

It is customary for the crowd to stay seated until the grand entrance of the quincinera. She makes her way up the center of the room on the arm of a brother, cousin or uncle to be presented to the crowd. And after many speeches attesting to her growth and loveliness, a series of dances begin. Father gets the 1^st dance, then brothers, grandfathers and uncles. It seemed to be an endless succession. More speeches, and for this one anyway, one of the quincineras  slipped away, removed her ruffles and reentered wearing hip hop clothes worthy of So You Think You Can Dance. She proceeded to do a choreographed routine that was quite impressive. I imagine she had been practicing for years for this moment.

I watched younger girls, still several years away from their coming-of-age, look longingly at the 2 princesses. They envied the attention and obviously looked forward to their own celebrations, though their just budding figures said there was still time to wait, no matter how they tried to speed it up with high heels and party dresses.

Finally, the dance floor was open to everyone. In a town of 1400 people, in what to us might seem like ‘in the middle of nowhere’, you can’t imagine how many really good dancers there were! Truthfully, I was intimidated, and believe me, I don’t intimidate easily when it comes to dancing. Admittedly, the music was ranchera, and the movements different than we’d seen, but the beat was clearly recognizable and easy to follow. We enjoyed watching the couples move gracefully across the floor with an ease that was enviable. When Robert and I joined them the lead singer ended her cancione with a “Ha!’ in our direction, catching my eye and sporting a big smile. We stayed on the floor for a number of dances, but I learned so much from just watching!

Latinas have a wonderful attitude that I admire. No matter her girth, she will don her tight dress and stilettos and walk proudly through the room, strutting her stuff, with the knowledge that she is hot. Period. And when she dances she moves in tandem with her partner allowing him to lead her, showing both her willingness to be dominated and her strength at the same time.

The men moved with equal cat-like grace. No awkward gyrating bodies, only smooth flowing couples gliding across the floor. The machismo shone through most noticeably in the younger crowd. The man would guide his partner solely with one hand placed on the small of her back, the other to dangle at his side in a show of nonchalance. And still they moved smartly and in unison.

There are 2 traditional ceremonies to a quincinera. Similar to the garter-throwing at a wedding, the celebrated now-young-woman throws a doll to a gathering of little girls. It takes place early in the festivities and marks her transition into adulthood and the giving up of toys.  The other is ‘the changing of the shoes’, quite later in the evening. (All this time the quincineras had been wearing tennis shoes, though under all those ruffles and I had never even seen them!) At one point the proud papa takes them off her feet and replaces them with high heels and they dance. There is also a cake to rival any wedding, but when we left at 1:00 a.m. the party wasn’t even close to that yet. Things had just started to heat up.

As we headed for the door I noticed that ours was the only table with an empty tequila bottle. The others had barely been touched, although there were many empty beer cans. (I guess Gloria’s, the store across the street did a bang up business last night!) Many people were gathered outside getting some fresh air and preparing for the next round of dancing. The festivities, we were told, would last until dawn.  We however, were ready to call it a night. As we walked to our car the darkness and sudden silence engulfed us. We carefully negotiated the dirt roads home, removed our party clothes and gratefully climbed into bed, happy for the experience and just a little more connected to our new home.