Last night Flora and I stayed with her cousin Esmeralda and her family in Moralia. They seem like all of Flora's family; incredibly sweet and hospitible. I had met them all in Copandero and Esmerelda's seven year old son Pablito and I had hit it off well.
As soon as we arrived Esmerelda and Flora's aunt Ophelia set about making us food. They were very surprised when I offered to help make the Tortillas. Ophelia was very pleased to show us how to make Tortillas by hand (I had previously only learned with the press). She also showed us how to make designs on them and smash them with floor tiles.
Having a man in the kitchen certainly seemed to make the women nervous and they eventually shooed me out. They seemed much relieved when I sat down and allowed them to feed me fresh guacamole, chicken, cheese, beans and warm tortillas.
Pablito and I sat down and played video games while the rest of the family left to take Ophelia home. He was excited to show off his games that spoke Engilsh. He spoke rapid fire Spanish to me the entire time we were alone.
I answered a knock at the door and found a muscular tall mexican man wanting in. Pablito's dad (Pablo Sr.). He was a warm welcoming man and shared some pear liquer with me, asking if I could help him with a mission on his Mission Impossible game that was impossible for him because all the directions are in English.
In the morning I said goodbye to Flora. Pablo drove her to El Central at 6AM. It was such a kind thing for Flora to invite me into this world. I'm so fortunate to have gotten to know her family and experience Mexico in the manner I have. I'm nervous and excited to be exploring Mexico without her. I'm certain having no interpreter will be daunting and overwhelming at times but it is bound to be an adventure and will certainly force me to learn faster.
Once the rest of family awoke, I played music for Pablito and his little brother Gordo. Their older sister is a smart young lady who I showed some things to practice on spoons and taught to play La Cucaracha on banjo.
Pablito doesn't want me to leave. He says I am his friend and urgently needs to know when I will return.
At the bus station they confiscated a large pocket knife I had bought in the Copandero square.
My two hour busride cost nine dollars, had comfortable seats, showed a movie, provided a snack and was only one of seven or eight buslines I had to choose from at the terminal.
The busride from Moralia to Uruapan was beautiful. The most beatiful ride I have ever seen on a major highway. Green rolling hills and mountains and very little traffic. A few pueblos made of brick and stone would pop up here and there nestled within the vines . Not a single Wal-Mart, McDonalds, Home Depot, Chevron or any other major chain that is visible in virtually every single town along any major highway or freeway in the U.S.
In Uruapan I traveled to the Fabrique de San Pedro, a textile factory run by my dear freind Carl's relatives. He and his son Aaron both highly suggested that I come and meet them. The building is clearly hundred of years old and has green vines climbing down its stone walls. The huge, austere rooms inside are covered with fine fabric. Words fail. It is amazing.
I met Ruey (sp?) as I came in. He seemed offended or smug when I tried to ask him a question in Spanish. He answered slowly and deliberately in English and said welcoming words that seemed full of hostility. And so it is that the coldest welcome I've recieved in Mexico came out of U.S. citizen's mouth. I hope I haven't come to visit at a bad time.
My heart has been better. Cancer Schmancer.