The air-conditioned bus trundles smoothly down highway 1, leaving the station only 5 minutes later than advertised. As advertised, it’s a very modern affair, clean and air-conditioned - no goats or chickens – even some fairly recent DVDs. Highway 1 is only one lane each direction the entire length of the Baja, though, and the driver does not hesitate to tailgate the slower trucks in anticipation of passing as soon as there is a big enough opening. I think we were less than 10 feet from one of them!
Arriving at La Paz, it is just a short taxi ride to the home where I will be staying for the next two weeks – a lovely villa with walls at least a foot thick and hand painted tiles on the floors and walls. The owner tells us that the house is over 100 years old, and was originally the main home for a hacienda that occupied the entire block, before the property was subdivided. Right from the start ‘hablamos espanol solamente’ and I am heartened to find that I can understand virtually all that my hostess and the other student here (Bill) says, although I still need to think longer than I would like before responding.
After dinner Bill and I go out for a walk on the waterfront, where La Paz comes alive. In 80 degree weather, over the course of our promenade, we encountered a science fair, a wedding, a bingo gathering, salsa dancing complete with prancing shark mascots, a concert, and an astronomy club. The "astronomicos" invited us to peer through their telescopes to see the moons of Jupiter, the Andromeda galaxy and an incredible closeup of the moon and invited us to return on any given Saturday. Planeo volver! (I will return!)
As I post this, three days of classes are behind me, and I am feeling the brain-fatigue that comes from an overdose of mental stimulation. I spend 2.5 hours in private Spanish only lessons each morning and there is generally a bit more time spent hanging around the school chatting less formally with instructors. The school arranges for some cultural activities each week and we are lucky to be here for the Day of the Dead, a HUGE latino-american festival. Our cultural presentation in Spanish yesterday covered the altars that families build to remember family members who have died, and we participated in building one to commemorate Steve Jobs.
Yesterday we visited the cemetery with an instructor and then spent several hours at the city-wide festival where folk dancers and skeleton-costumed comedians entertain the audience, elaborately dressed Catrinas wander the crowd, and vendors hawk tamales and other fiesta food.
Yesterday we visited the cemetery with an instructor and then spent several hours at the city-wide festival where folk dancers and skeleton-costumed comedians entertain the audience, elaborately dressed Catrinas wander the crowd, and vendors hawk tamales and other fiesta food.
Bill and I were fascinated by the Catrina competition. There were 12-14 entrants, including children and adults, faces painted to resemble a skull, dressed in very flamboyant gowns over arms and legs swathed in black nylon embossed with white bones. After parading across the stage, the entrants mingled with the crowd, posing for photos like ghoulish Goofies, and vamping shamelessly. Although all were dressed in skirts, Bill and I agreed that one of the entrants could not possibly be a woman. But since Death makes no distinction due to gender, we assumed that there must be no rules that the person under the costume had to be male. Today the winners will be announced, and we are looking forward to seeing if we've got our money on the right one.
My Spanish classes are challenging...and come with homework. I'm finding that I can truly understand a bit more each day. While our instructors pace their delivery to the students' level, the average person on the street does not...and I am finding that the spaces between words are getting much clearer. It will be interesting to see how much more fluent I feel in another two and a half weeks. I'm quite optimistic.
