UNA NOVELA

I just finished the novel A Young Man's Guide to Late Capitalism by Peter Mountford.  It takes place mostly in Bolivia just before and after Evo Morales was elected President.

Evo Morales

The protagonist is an American working in Bolivia for a hedge fund.  Oddly enough, I just met my first hedge fund employee here in Mexico.  A female and from London, but otherwise similar, superficially anyway, to the protagonist.  Apparently youth is one of the qualifications for the job:  it's a stressful, high-octane life, and most burn out pretty quickly or simply get fired.  And then there's their role in recent economic events in the US, as captured damningly in the n+1 series "Confessions of a Hedge Fund Manager."

I highly recommend the book.

NUESTRA FAMILIA EN TUSCALOOSA. . .

is safe and sound, having waited out the tornado in a shelter.  Their house is also intact (though power-less), even though the tornado destroyed a mall less than a mile from them.

RECORDANDO/REPITIENDO LOS 70

The only plants we had in the house when I was growing up in the 50s were my grandmother's scary ("don't touch them, they'll die") African violets.   And then....  In the late 60s and early 70s we and our friends started bringing plants into the house and hanging them in homemade macrame holders.  Not sure how this craze began, but I know it wasn't because of Facebook or Twitter.  There were spider plants, wandering jews, aloe, herbs, etc.  We had a bay plant that was started from a slip in VA and wound up as a big shrub in NC. Various pieces of it still exist in gardens across the USA.  I don't know what happened to the Norfolk Island Pine that we carted from place to place.   And I remember the avocados that we stuck three toothpicks in and put in a glass of water until a stem or two cracked out of the top.

At the same time, we subscribed to Organic Gardening and got caught up in the back-to-the-land movement, and our focus eventually changed to outdoor planting, as in subsistence farming.  Indoor plants seemed beside the point, except for herbs that you brought in during the winter months.

But here we can't have a garden, so we have lots of plants in pots.  And because the avocados are reason in themselves to move to Mexico, I've revived the 70s and started two plants.  My brother-in-law says they take 20 years to bear fruit, so I probably won't be around to eat them, but the plants are pretty in and of themselves.

I also started some of my sister's zinnias which are also all over the USA.

GRACE NOS INVITÓ. . .

to dinner on Saturday with some other people.  Grace es de IL (her father was a dairy farmer) y de ME (a back-to-the-lander).

Bill es de KY y Atlanta, GA.

Pat and Nolan son de Tulsa, OK and Palm Springs, CA and some other places I can't remember.  We're all jubilados.

The main course was organic ostrich stew.  Obviously, you can get almost anything in Mexico. . . except, according to Bill and Pat, grits and okra.  We lived in the South for many years, but we don't miss grits and okra.

A delicious meal and delightful company.  Gracias, Grace.

VIERNES SANTO

Good Friday.  This morning we took a walk to buy tequila take some photos of the decorations for Semana Santa.  We've done this holiday in Sevilla, Spain, but never in Mexico.  We saw several major streets cordoned off on the sides, so maybe we'll see a parade.  Last night there were so many Mexican tourists in the plazas that we could hardly move through them.  

Here are some of the bedecked houses we saw this morning, from the simple to the elaborate.

It must be peach season.  We've seen several people selling them on the street.  We bought a bag on our walk, and they are delicious.  They perfume the whole house.

SEMILLAS EN EL CORREO

Look what came from Sacramento yesterday.  We heard the mailperson squeezing it into the mailbox in the morning.

And check that postmark--March 30, 2011.  It only took 3 weeks!

Inside?  Morning glories and zinnias (and a belated b-day card for el sr J that I'm not going to show you).  Guess we'd better get some pots and dirt.

Now I'm going to mail something to Sacramento and see what happens.

UN RESTAURANTE NUEVO. . .

just opened up the street.  They had been working on it ever since we moved here 6 months ago.  We watched them paint it red.  We decided to try it.  I was enchanted with the building, which is just the kind of place I'd like to buy--open air on one side, 4 or 5 rooms on the other side.  Original tile floors and high ceilings.

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The food/service needs some work.  Delicious lemonades served immediately.  El sr J's Nueva York sandwich followed.  The bagel is what made it New York, he guessed.  

My focaccia took 20 minutes.  By that time I had eaten half of el sr J's sandwich and wasn't too hungry.  And besides, the dough was seriously under-done.  We took most of it home with us.

It's called Django's, and they play the music from his era.  While we were waiting for the focaccia, el sr J remarked that the music sounded like American jazz from the 1930s.  He listened more and said:  "I think I recognize that tenor sax player."  It was Coleman Hawkins, playing with Django Reinhardt and Benny Carter, Paris, 1937.

The place has a grasp on style, somewhat afrancesado, that we find appealing.  The music is, of course, first rate.  That, and the reference above to one of our favorite films, Les triplettes de Belleville, makes us want to come back for more of the ambience.  Let's hope they get better at the food service business.

TAMALES

Saturday we went to the Museo de Arte to see some of the work of Santiago Carbonell. . .

and Vicente Rojo.

Afterwards we stopped for take-out lunch at a tamale restaurant and got one with chicken. . .

. . . one with pork and one with cheese.

Chicken:

Pork and cheese:

Wrapped in corn husks and banana leaves.

Traditional and modern art, all in one day.

DOMINGO DE RAMOS

Palm Sunday.  Outside all of the churches people are selling and buying symbolic objects made from dried palm leaves, among other things.  

IMPUESTOS FEDERALES Y ESTATALES

How do you file your tax returns from a country with unreliable mail service?  Online, right?  We found a site called Taxslayer for people with foreign addresses and, almost miraculously, for people over 65 who don't make much money.  And we could file our state forms through them, too.  Bingo.  (Go Obama; raise taxes on those making over $200,000).

The process was easy:  we entered the data, and the system did all the figuring. We did the federal form and two state forms (WV and NC).  But, when we tried to submit the forms, the IRS kept rejecting them, and Taxslayer would not submit the state forms until the feds accepted theirs.  What to do?  An internet search revealed that the error code indicated a problem with the street address.  We kept fiddling around with our address, putting the number in front instead of in back of the street name, taking out the word "Andador," etc.  3 submissions, 3 rejections.  El sr J was frustrated and mystified; he kept saying, "the address is the address, how can it be wrong?"  I was defiant ("try to find us, I dare you!").  But they owed us money, so my reaction was inappropriate.  Finally, at the last minute we changed the address from Mexico to Alabama.  That did it.  Then NC accepted our forms and, just now at the last minute, WV came through.  So much for the web site that specializes in foreign addresses.  

We're not sure how to think about this:  should we be pleased that we were able to persevere and get our returns accepted, or should we wonder why we can't simply file from where we are and not have to create a fictional address in order to by-pass an error code?  One thing is certain:  the mess on the floor has been cleaned up.   

MERMELADAS

I have to consult an online dictionary to figure out what I'm putting on my toast in the morning.  Zarzamora.  I probably should have known that one--blackberry.  That's the one on the right.  

But what is that one on the left?  Xoconostle.  Prickly pear.

The middle one is garambullo, another cactus fruit. 

We buy these things at the monthly mercadito, a small street market that specializes in local products.  The mermeladas are advertised as organic and are made in a nearby town.  We're happy to eat them and even happier we don't have to pick the fruit.