Lost and Found In Mexico
The city of Guanajuato, in the mountains of central Mexico is a maze of cobblestone streets that disappear around corners, hidden subterranean tunnels, alleys so narrow that lovers can meet for stolen kisses on opposing balconies. There are no right-angled corners where streets neatly intersect with avenues. Many streets don’t even retain the same name as they wind their way through this city, and sometimes they just terminate into brick walls. In fact, Guanajuato was purposely designed to be a confusing labyrinth, to protect its treasures from invading armies.
It is a nightmare for someone like me who has a special, almost magical talent for getting lost. I cannot possibly over-state this. I am a moron when it comes to finding my way in a new city. And maps don’t help. I swear when I am supposed to go north my first instinct is to look skyward. And so, I have completely given up with standard techniques, and have taken to employing the “Rolling Stones” method of navigation. You know, “you can’t always find what you want……..” and all.
So, finding myself alone with my 3 children (14, 11, and 9) in this city of one million - primarily Spanish speaking - people was enough to give me teeth-grinding dreams for a week. I had arranged for us to attend a language school for three weeks and then take off on our own, traveling around the Colonial Heartland of Mexico. In short, we were doomed.
Founded in 1570, Guanajuato became famous because of its rich gold and silver mines. Today, it is considered the culture capital of Mexico, and is filled with strolling minstrels – college students dressed in black velvet costumes with white tights and matching Elizabethan collars. They meet on Thursday and Friday nights in the Central Garden and lead a group of revelers –anyone is welcome to join- throughout the city singing, telling jokes, and drinking wine carried by a genteel burrow. There are mariachi bands and drama troupes that stroll the streets performing wherever crowds have gathered. Dancers, mimes, painters, musicians, choirs, and actors mill around in the plazas and central garden performing for anyone who happens to pass by. I couldn’t find any of it……………...until I stopped looking.
Frustrated by a day of trying to usher my hot, tired kids to museums and gardens and plazas, I gave up and sat down at an outdoor café to have a cold drink and admit defeat. Within minutes a mariachi band – all silver brocade jackets and gold tassels - began to perform. The cobblestone plaza filled with local couples of all ages dressed in their very best clothing. They took to the center square and began performing slow, beautiful, Latin dances. One couple in particular, they must have been in their 80’s, were an amazing sight. She was dressed in a crimson cotton skirt and blouse with tiny embroidered flowers of cobalt blue. He was in a matching electric blue jacket and pants. Both of them looked weathered and grey from years of life and hard work under the hot sun. And then they began to dance. They gazed into each other’s eyes and moved together in perfect symmetry. They bowed, and dipped, and smiled at each other coyly, like young lovers. The other dancers stopped to watch these two, and at that moment I learned all I needed to know about this city and her people. What they valued, what they enjoyed, what they considered important. It didn’t matter if I found the most righteous museums or fountains or paintings; I was beginning to understand the soul of Guanajuato. Now it was time to learn the language.
We attended Academia Falcon – an international Spanish language school set into the rocky, desert hillside. The classrooms, painted ochre and teal and tangerine, surrounded an outdoor common area where the children met to play “uno, dos, tres, mes amigos” – like hide and seek – and take blindfolded swats at a piñata. After class each day we and gathered with other students to share a chocolate churro and practice our new Spanish phrases. We learned Latin dancing and cooking, and even a few “naughty” words. At one point another student approached me and asked “Is Jack your son? He is HILARIOUS! You should hear how he describes you in conversation class! Do you really get lost that much?”
At the school I was lucky to find traveling companions who met my most important criteria – either being more fluent in Spanish than I, or reasonably able to navigate. Off we set, this rag-tag band of 4 adults and 3 children to explore the Michoacan State of Western Mexico. In October and November, Monarch Butterflies from the Great Lakes Region migrate to this state for their winter hibernation. In the early mornings, the branches of the fir trees in the Monarch reserve droop with the weight of millions of these creatures. By afternoon, the ground is a living carpet of orange, yellow, and black as the butterflies slowly flutter their wings and mill about…………We didn’t actually so much “find” this place – but brochure photos were remarkable!
We visited the city of Morelia, the capital of Michoacan, and a most lovely city. It is Spanish-European in style, with an imposing cathedral and gardens in the center of the city plaza. The outdoor café tables sit under arched verandas where beautifully dressed visitors sip aged tequilas and snack on tapas. Many of the public buildings have stair-well murals that depict the Mexican Revolution……..Yea…I didn’t so much find those either…… but I did have the most amazing experience in the cathedral. It was a hot day, and I walked into the darkened church during mass. I was immediately hit with a familiar scent from my childhood. It was the exact combination of musty paper, incense, lilies, and sweat that I remember from years of attending daily Catholic Mass. I was instantly 9 years old. Before I knew what I was doing I bowed my head, blessed myself, genuflected, and knelt in a pew. I had a wonderful, spiritual moment sitting there alone listening to the Spanish prayer. I found inspiration.
My favorite city, Patzcuro, is situated in the highlands on the lake of the same name. In 1529, a Spanish conquistador named Guzman ruled this region with such unspeakable cruelty toward the natives that the Catholic Church and colonial government sent Bishop Vasco de Quiroga to help. Quiroga developed a utopian community, with an emphasis on education, agriculture, and crafts. All of the villagers were required to contribute equally to the society, and encouraged to develop a craft. As a result, Patzcuro has become a lovely hamlet filled with educated citizens who value arts and social responsibility. You will find beautiful weavings, pottery, blown glass, jewelry, ironwork, and furniture, and a giant lake which makes for an easy point of reference when trying to locate your hotel after a sangria or two.
We learned so much about Mexico, ourselves, and each other during this adventure. I had some of the most amazing family experiences and proud mommy moments. And I us got lost. I us got lost a lot. But here is what I found.
My kids are remarkably self-sufficient, smart, funny, entertaining people.
If necessary, and ONLY then, I can do laundry with just a washboard and ringer
.….And if you try sometimes….you find what you need.
Word Count: 1236
Julene Nolan
jules@julesnolan.com
www.julesnolan.com
www.takethekidswith.com
(507) 382 5404
It is a nightmare for someone like me who has a special, almost magical talent for getting lost. I cannot possibly over-state this. I am a moron when it comes to finding my way in a new city. And maps don’t help. I swear when I am supposed to go north my first instinct is to look skyward. And so, I have completely given up with standard techniques, and have taken to employing the “Rolling Stones” method of navigation. You know, “you can’t always find what you want……..” and all.
So, finding myself alone with my 3 children (14, 11, and 9) in this city of one million - primarily Spanish speaking - people was enough to give me teeth-grinding dreams for a week. I had arranged for us to attend a language school for three weeks and then take off on our own, traveling around the Colonial Heartland of Mexico. In short, we were doomed.
Founded in 1570, Guanajuato became famous because of its rich gold and silver mines. Today, it is considered the culture capital of Mexico, and is filled with strolling minstrels – college students dressed in black velvet costumes with white tights and matching Elizabethan collars. They meet on Thursday and Friday nights in the Central Garden and lead a group of revelers –anyone is welcome to join- throughout the city singing, telling jokes, and drinking wine carried by a genteel burrow. There are mariachi bands and drama troupes that stroll the streets performing wherever crowds have gathered. Dancers, mimes, painters, musicians, choirs, and actors mill around in the plazas and central garden performing for anyone who happens to pass by. I couldn’t find any of it……………...until I stopped looking.
Frustrated by a day of trying to usher my hot, tired kids to museums and gardens and plazas, I gave up and sat down at an outdoor café to have a cold drink and admit defeat. Within minutes a mariachi band – all silver brocade jackets and gold tassels - began to perform. The cobblestone plaza filled with local couples of all ages dressed in their very best clothing. They took to the center square and began performing slow, beautiful, Latin dances. One couple in particular, they must have been in their 80’s, were an amazing sight. She was dressed in a crimson cotton skirt and blouse with tiny embroidered flowers of cobalt blue. He was in a matching electric blue jacket and pants. Both of them looked weathered and grey from years of life and hard work under the hot sun. And then they began to dance. They gazed into each other’s eyes and moved together in perfect symmetry. They bowed, and dipped, and smiled at each other coyly, like young lovers. The other dancers stopped to watch these two, and at that moment I learned all I needed to know about this city and her people. What they valued, what they enjoyed, what they considered important. It didn’t matter if I found the most righteous museums or fountains or paintings; I was beginning to understand the soul of Guanajuato. Now it was time to learn the language.
We attended Academia Falcon – an international Spanish language school set into the rocky, desert hillside. The classrooms, painted ochre and teal and tangerine, surrounded an outdoor common area where the children met to play “uno, dos, tres, mes amigos” – like hide and seek – and take blindfolded swats at a piñata. After class each day we and gathered with other students to share a chocolate churro and practice our new Spanish phrases. We learned Latin dancing and cooking, and even a few “naughty” words. At one point another student approached me and asked “Is Jack your son? He is HILARIOUS! You should hear how he describes you in conversation class! Do you really get lost that much?”
At the school I was lucky to find traveling companions who met my most important criteria – either being more fluent in Spanish than I, or reasonably able to navigate. Off we set, this rag-tag band of 4 adults and 3 children to explore the Michoacan State of Western Mexico. In October and November, Monarch Butterflies from the Great Lakes Region migrate to this state for their winter hibernation. In the early mornings, the branches of the fir trees in the Monarch reserve droop with the weight of millions of these creatures. By afternoon, the ground is a living carpet of orange, yellow, and black as the butterflies slowly flutter their wings and mill about…………We didn’t actually so much “find” this place – but brochure photos were remarkable!
We visited the city of Morelia, the capital of Michoacan, and a most lovely city. It is Spanish-European in style, with an imposing cathedral and gardens in the center of the city plaza. The outdoor café tables sit under arched verandas where beautifully dressed visitors sip aged tequilas and snack on tapas. Many of the public buildings have stair-well murals that depict the Mexican Revolution……..Yea…I didn’t so much find those either…… but I did have the most amazing experience in the cathedral. It was a hot day, and I walked into the darkened church during mass. I was immediately hit with a familiar scent from my childhood. It was the exact combination of musty paper, incense, lilies, and sweat that I remember from years of attending daily Catholic Mass. I was instantly 9 years old. Before I knew what I was doing I bowed my head, blessed myself, genuflected, and knelt in a pew. I had a wonderful, spiritual moment sitting there alone listening to the Spanish prayer. I found inspiration.
My favorite city, Patzcuro, is situated in the highlands on the lake of the same name. In 1529, a Spanish conquistador named Guzman ruled this region with such unspeakable cruelty toward the natives that the Catholic Church and colonial government sent Bishop Vasco de Quiroga to help. Quiroga developed a utopian community, with an emphasis on education, agriculture, and crafts. All of the villagers were required to contribute equally to the society, and encouraged to develop a craft. As a result, Patzcuro has become a lovely hamlet filled with educated citizens who value arts and social responsibility. You will find beautiful weavings, pottery, blown glass, jewelry, ironwork, and furniture, and a giant lake which makes for an easy point of reference when trying to locate your hotel after a sangria or two.
We learned so much about Mexico, ourselves, and each other during this adventure. I had some of the most amazing family experiences and proud mommy moments. And I us got lost. I us got lost a lot. But here is what I found.
My kids are remarkably self-sufficient, smart, funny, entertaining people.
If necessary, and ONLY then, I can do laundry with just a washboard and ringer
.….And if you try sometimes….you find what you need.
Word Count: 1236
Julene Nolan
jules@julesnolan.com
www.julesnolan.com
www.takethekidswith.com
(507) 382 5404
posted by jules @ 11:30 AM
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