Sunday, October 16, 2011
Do something that scares you...
The rainy season sprouted a new crop of weeds in the patio. Blue morning glories climb the wall, tall grasses are setting seed, there are tiny daisy-like flowers and something with a seed pod that looks a bit like a green grape. Several branches of the sour orange tree are bent to the ground, weighed down with fruit and fresh growth. Surprise, the snake plant and henequen, gifts from friends, didn't die of neglect but are thriving, still in a pot, in the shade of the orange.
The back of the property has also grown weeds, along with substantial deposits of the neighbors' trash. Pipes, wood, prunings of palm and other trees. Not very neighborly, but I guess we'll clear it out and see if future dumping can be politely discouraged.
Now for settling in. After a day with the fans running, the house feels less dank, and now it's filled with the fragrance of lilies - a lovely housewarming surprise.
Dragged the bike out of the unfinished guest bedroom where I stashed it in March, and cleaned it up with dish soap and a damp cloth. It was filthy, and seemed to grow an extra coat of grime in the summer heat. The key for the bike lock was rusted almost beyond recognition. The tires were flat of course, but a neighborhood tire-repair guy refilled them for free.
The bike made it easy to get to the Oaxaca festival. It was a couple of kilometres away, set up in the Parque de los Americas in the Garcia Gineres neighborhood. All the treasures of Oaxaca were represented there: the park was lined with vendors' stands selling everything from woven shawls and beautifully embroidered clothes, to the region's gorgeous black and green pottery. There might have been music and dancing before I got there.
A young fellow behind me was telling his novia he was getting the chapulines - hoping to impress with bravery, I think. I asked a server if they were popular - yes, she said, did I want a taste? I told her I was too afraid to try them, but la novia behind me said she'd had them before, and liked them, and her boyfriend took a sample. So I swallowed my fear and took a few from the spoonful the server proffered.
They actually tasted pretty good.
So now I figure I'm ready for the apocalypse, or the post-global warming world, when bugs are all we have left to eat.
Brought the tamale home and put it in the fridge. For later, I figured. But I'm too intimidated to turn on the new range that was installed back in March and hasn't even been turned on yet. It has a funny button to ignite the gas burners, at least I think that's what it's for. And is there any potential problem with a tank of gas that's been sitting on the roof untouched all summer long?
I'll face that fear tomorrow.