25 March 2006 Saturday

Veracruz (city) was our starting point.  We arrived around 9:00 p.m., took a taxi to the hotel, checked in our room and made plans for tomorrow.

26 March

This morning we would rent an economical stick shift car.  This car was so small, it could easily fit inside a mid-size car with room to spare   I had to do all the driving because Ruth does not drive a stick shift, but she was my co-pilot willingly paying her dues by translating the Spanish language road signs and informing me of topes, those annoying speed bumps.

Late morning after a good Mexican breakfast including rice, beans, and tortillas, we drove to the city of Xalapa, about 120 km northwest of Veracruz (city).  The city of Xalapa is very hilly so driving a stick shift was a challenge for me.  Fortunately I did not roll back onto any cars while inclined at stoplights, but there were some scary moments.  I got pretty good with starting in first gear with the parking break engaged, but I’ll stick to my automatics.

A coffeehouse in Xalapa was the meeting place to hook up with Manuel Gonzalez a Mexican photographer I met while he was on tour in Chicago.  Manuel was touring his photo book about the Afro-Columbian and Afro-Mexican people.  One of the places he documented was the village of Coyolillo, one hour from Xalapa.  After seeing his impressive work, I had to go there and see the people for myself.

Accompanied by Manuel, Ruth and I walked around the village so our faces could be seen, because we were strangers, outsiders to this small close-knit village.  Manuel also introduced us to some of the people: the village president and some storeowners and other business people.   This was done to let them know we were ok, so we (my camera) would be accepted. 

 That evening, Manuel went back to Xalapa on the bus, so this meant that in the morning, Ruth and I would be on our own. 

27 March

After a hearty hotel breakfast, Ruth and I walked and talked taking photos here and there.  I brought a little digital printer so I was able to give people prints taken from the small digital camera. This was their payment for letting me photograph them. People were receptive.  A grocery store owner invited us to lunch in her house; another villager invited us to dinner, and another to her daughter’s quincienera celebration (but we could not make the latter two).  I even played soccer with some boys.  They really enjoyed that. They were calling out my name, “Michael! Michael!”, as if I were a sports star.

A lot of people opened their doors to us making us feel welcome.  Ruth did the translating, and I spoke what little Spanish I could trying to fit in.  Some of the people had Chicago connections.  One lady gave us her son's address.  He lives in Pilsen a Hispanic area in Chicago.

We returned to our hotel with a hand full of unprocessed film after spending one and a half days in Coyolillo. To experience the friendliness of this small village was a good one. I plan to return one day.

27 March

The drive to Cardenàs was not too bad.  Instead of taking the longer free route with topas, we decided to pay the cuotas (tolls) and get to our destination sooner.  We left Xalapa around 11:00 a.m. and reached Cardenàs five hours later around 4:ish.  Even though we stopped at Las Ventas to look at the Omeca ruins, we still made good on our time. 
The sun was still up and we were seen and greeted by a group of bench sitting women who already knew our visit’s purpose and who we were coming to visit; Mama Petrona, Ruth’s mother. 

I instantly felt at home in Mama Petrona’s arms and her new house.  Her warmth engulfed my spirit making me feel as if I had known her all my life.  Feeling very much at home, I quickly molded my body to a comfortable  pecan wicker rocker on her open-air porch and relieved my highway stress.  That evening, Ruth would become friends with the hammock that hung sideways across the porch.

The interior of the house felt very motherly and grandmotherly with family photos on her television stand and destination travel plates hung neatly spaced on a wall.  She mentioned they just finished the house about two months ago and she was still decorating.  It looked fine to me.

The ceramic tiled floor was gorgeous.  It covered the porch, the entire living and dining room and ended covering the back porch. She had light colored carpeting in the two bedrooms.  The bathroom’s walls were tiled in blue leading to a walk in shower larger enough for a party of four, comfortably. (hmmmm!!!)

Asking about the barrio (neighborhood), we were told Tia Juana, Mama Petrona’s sister lived up the way, around the corner. 
Tia’s house was gated and locked the perimeter secured by one of her two dogs.  The guard dog is a friendly hyper, jumping and barking mutt.  I guess he was glad to see strangers.  So much for being a watchdog!  The second dog was a black teacup Chihuahua with its head being the largest body part.  Tia Juana is a bi speckled small-framed bronze skinned woman, 78 years old with natural black hair pulled back into a bun.  She does not look her age.  Mama Petrona had not lived in Cardenàs 15 years the length of time since Ruth had seen her aunt.  Tia’s windows and doors were all closed up, so the house was warm.  We sat for as long as we stand the heat, then after a photo of Tia, Ruth and her dogs, we left.

Back at Mama Petrona’s, we sat on the porch and planned the next day’s activities, but for not too long.  The porch light beckoned the mosquitoes and they drove us inside.