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ON THE ROAD AGAIN!
Dear Friends and Family, Old and New, Near and Far:
When I last wrote, I was magnetized by Puerto Vallarta, having arrived there in mid-January with plans to explore the Pacific coast of Mexico as a future dwelling place. I did venture northward to savor the beaches and art galleries of Bucerias and Sayulita, and as far south as Mismaloya where Night of the Iguana was filmed, all no more than an hour's bus ride; but otherwise I was content to explore the varying facets of Puerto Vallarta until the beginning of June. Oh, and I did visit Yelapa, an island-like community reachable only by boat, which has no  roads, so the main transportation is donkey and the occasional golf cart. Since then, computer meltdowns and the sheer indulgence of savoring where I am, have interfered with my already sporadic newsletter writing.
What did I do? I'm sure people wonder, since as a nomad, I'm out there floating with no assigned role or schedule. I discovered the Spanish lessons at the International Friendship Club, partially mastering the past and future tenses, only to learn that Mexicans seldom use the future. (Bless their hearts, they live in the present, too. No worrying about IRA's for them.) Tired of corn tortillas, I found out where to buy the best multigrain bread in Puerto Vallarta, and routinely visited the Mexican fruit and vegetable markets where a friendly store owner educated me on the Spanish name for basil (almendra) and the qualities of different mangoes .
Mangoes! Yes, as an aficionado of mangoes, I was in Nirvana , trying new types side by side to determine which was the most divine: Heiden, Manilla, Indio, or Altaulfo, sometimes known in the US by the rarified Whole Foods label as the Champagne Mango. Altaulfo, with its golden skin and creamy interior remains my favorite, but Indio is a very close second. I finally negotiated with one market to buy seconds at a cheaper price and made a batch of mango jam laced with orange zest. It was so heavenly you'll find it on St. Peter's wish list, along with my Mom's pies.
Besides dancing tango a few times a week, mostly I collected  stories, gleaning information, tips and personal histories from people as diverse as Lee Bray, a retired lawyer who rented me a room in his Mexican-style home; Erica Fuentes, former Chief of Protocol for the President of Mexico, (who incidentally still has a scar resulting from an assassination attempt with a chemical bomb) now she's a writer of novels; Terra Mar, an author and expert on rainforest herbs, Shirley Monestier, an artist who lives in France with her husband, who produces jazz festivals, and Fernando Bravo, a member of an Aztec dance group.
In the midst of it all, I interviewed Alicia, the Cake Lady, one of my favorite Puerto Vallarta characters, and her story was published in Vallarta Today. You can read it on my blog.
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THOSE LESS FORTUNATE
Though Puerto Vallarta is a relatively small town, it is blessed with numerous philanthropic organizations which raise money for cleft palate operations, tuition for indigent Mexican children, and construction of a shelter for battered women. Another foundation, called New Beginnings, started by Andy and Janet Stevenson, helps feed people who were literally living on the dump when they arrived 3 years ago. Since then, Andy and his crew of volunteers have built 20 concrete block houses, poured concrete floors where people were living on dirt and mud, and helped install running water for families adjacent to the mountain of garbage outside Puerto Vallarta. Every Tuesday and Thursday volunteers arrive around noon to cook hamburgers or hotdogs for the indigents in the vicinity. Andy surmises that this is the only meat they eat during the week. On several occasions, I was among the crew, and photographed various aspects of the project, as well as bright-eyed children, who were entertained by board games and face painting while we chopped onions and tomatoes.
Contributions and more information on New Beginnings can be found on the website , and I've posted a photo essay in this online gallery.
Andy is adamant that 100% of the donations received goes to projects for people at the dump. He returns to Canada for several months a year to work as a landscaper to earn money to live on. He and Janet take no salary for their work.
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My artistic eye and nomadic soul has been enriched this year by the joy of new friends from many backgrounds, the stimulation of their stories, the calming sight of ocean waves, the gold and aqua-hued houses perched on hills in Guanajuato, and the architectural wonders of Teotihuacan.
I wish you similar euphoria wherever this finds you. As always, take care of your special selves, live creatively, cherish those near and dear, and make your dreams a reality.
Abrazos!
Elena
Elena Hiatt Houlihan
Moving Images
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NOTE: You may be a close friend or relative, someone who's genuinely interested in the continuing saga of my book or my meanderings, a teacher or student I've worked with, an editor I'm trying to impress, a perfect stranger I met briefly on the night bus to Palenque, or had an intense conversation with on the beach at Playa del Carmen, even a temporary tango partner. Perhaps you've forgotten me, but I have not forgotten you! Since I'm NOT making any promises to make you RICH, BRILLIANT or FAMOUS in 5 easy steps (not yet anyway), if my stories and observations don't enliven your day, then hit UNSUBSCRIBE. If you've been forwarded this newsletter, please click below to subscribe. Merci mille fois! Y muchas gracias!
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MUSE BRIEFS:
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Am I bored or overly challenged by the nomadic life after a year? Do I worry because I don't yet have a permanent place to hang my non-existent hat? Nope! Something always turns up. In Puerto Vallarta alone, I stayed in four reasonably-priced places in four and a half months: Sun Vallarta Hostel for a week, a studio apartment for 2 weeks, a spacious and colorful apart- ment on a steep hill for 2 months, and a room in Lee's house above the Rio Cuale for 2 months. All were located in the Zona Romantica, the old part of the city, far from the ubiquitous Walmart. I was happy in all of them. And, since I only had to move a suitcase and a rolling computer case, changing domiciles was not a problem. Now I'm back to traveling by car, and it's time to reassess how much of its contents I truly need. Tango clothes, si! Winter clothes? I hope not!
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TREKS TO FOUR CITIES
After leaving the cobblestone streets, beachside cafes and new friends of Puerto Vallarta, I took the bus to Guadalajara, where I met Janet, a long-time email correspondent. Together we explored that city, Guanajuato and San Miguel de Allende.  Guanajuato is an old mining town and once produced 60% of the world's silver (lugged out of the depths by the enslaved indigenous, I might add, before being shipped off to Spain.) The tiny alleys, cathedrals, and colorful houses reminded me of Italy. San Miguel was enchanting with its town square, colonial buildings and parading minstrel singers, not to mention, talented artists and writers. Downtown Mexico City, my last stop before flying out impressed me with its cleanliness, Parisian- style boulevards, and the astounding Museum of Anthro-pology.  The diversity and power of Mexico's sculpture and architecture are mostly unknown to us NorteAmericanos. We could learn much by looking southward instead of to Greece and Rome. | |
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