today is my one month anniversary of being back.
six months away from new england, w mass, camp hamp
five months away from the belly of the beast.
five months on the other side of the coin..
i envision our rio to gulf border as a revolving door
perhaps coin looking, with figure heads of past regimes.
a revolving door of products,
don’t even tell me the amount of trucking traffic that happens on the border each day, each second, because i can’t conceptualize numbers that big but fuck! its a lot….don’t you dare tell me that migrants looking for safety pollute the desert when these gas monsters don’t give a fuck about the atmosphere.
wow. i thought i was going a very different place in this ramble.
what i wanted to say before i was off on the tangent of the coin metaphor was that being back in the united states, away from all those I know in Mexico, i find i am sheltering my memories, fearing they are slipping away. so i now grasp onto these moments:
being woken up by natalio playing guitar and singing in the next classroom over.
the daily rituals of rising by 6 or 7, playing basketball perhaps, breathing the clear air of the mountains, with a shower – gazing at a gorgeous view ….
with ines: “digna rabia” and “there is a lot of fucking mud” wonderful mentor, you were an amazing person with so much spirit, passion, integrity and energy. i’ll miss you.
the huge worm bins at UniTierra and the walk up the hill with the beekeeper/student/worker so that we could feed the bees sugar water. such an elfish smile and warm heart..
making tejocote dulce with minerva. lots of peeling.. so delicious
reading rebelde to her while she washed clothes. she wouldn’t accept help with the work but we did read a long article together. she told me how she’ll stay up through the night sometimes, just reading. mi luchadora generosa…
“yo soy loca en mi tunel! loca loca locaaa!”
Mine y Leti: les amo. siempre. ay ay ay…. do you have your power ring??
haha, this has become such a composite strange blog. two last thoughts then i have to go –
in an american store again with the insane variety of foods available. i shook my head to shake out the feeling that this could be acceptable or just or normalized, felt sick and sad thinking about what it takes to create such an illusion.
and driving…one gallon of gas is equivalent of four days of human labor….and here it goes burning away as the parameters of my life occasionally make me do.
off to a meeting. then to another. hampshire classes start tomorrow, unless it snows really hard.
stay warm out there.