Merida Full Corn Moon – September Full Moon Name Given by Native Americans

30 09 2012

My first full moon in Merida. I haven’t been here long enough for a harvest but I wanted to howl anyway although a couple of hours in the morning sun walking dogs at Evolucion have me pretty burnt out. The names of the numerous friends I’ve made walking dogs at Evolucion will remain anonymous to protect the innocent.  I’m the guilty one.  You see I left the BDE back in L A.  BDE stands for the Best Dog Ever otherwise known as Morgan. Morgan’s a 10 year old Rottie sweetheart whose love of people is only surpassed by her love of food and walks on the beach.  Some of you are asking why didn’t el hombre viejo bring the damn dog with him if she’s the BDE? A Rottweiler is not going to be at her best in the heat of the Yucatan and she has stayed in an environment she knows and is being given good care.  Ironically the same is true of the pooches at Evolucion. I say ironically because they are being taken care of in an environment they also know, but it’s an environment they don’t want to be in and we don’t want them to be in. A dog’s life in the Yucatan can be good but like dogs know all over the world it’s all about the owner’s ability and desire to love the animal. Down here for whatever the reasons there are too many loving dogs left to their own lack of devices. So let’s all stop a minute to howl at the moon and love our dogs. Amor es perros.


Merida Noches

27 09 2012


Conversaciones Con Amigos is part of the Merida English Library effort to bond the Yucatecans with ex-pats. Monday was an example of how it goes.  After two fun hours in the garden with Jose (15) in prep school, Melissa (19), and her sister Jessica (18) – both students at UADY – I headed for the door.  Gilmer, the 25 year old EE, whom I’d spent the evening with the last time I had been to CCA was waiting in the next room and in perfect English asked “You going to Hennessy’s for football?”. Hesitating a moment I replied, “I’m a little too tired tonight.” I didn’t get into how dancing salsa till 2:30 the night before can get to a guy especially “el hombre viejo.” But I did invite Gilmer to my place to see a pic of my dance partner, participate in a language session of LiveMocha on the Internet and sip (I said sip) some tequila.

Off we went. An hour later la angel del barrio was screeching at the door.  “There’s a cat at your front door!”  Gilmer announced with alarm. “Nah, that’s just Gilda. That’s the way she knocks.”  I have no doorbell. An hour later after una cerveza por Gilda and the second tequila for Gilmer and me Gilda rose from her chair suddenly and in broken English announces, “I almost forgot. It’s Monday night.  I made the Monday pork and beans. Come on.”

She hustles us out of the house and around the corner to her place whereupon she comes out with a warm plastic container that she gives me.  “Go home and eat this.”  Out of the corner of me eye I see Gilmer, the archtype Maya math wiz, beginning to salivate.  But we have to spend the traditional five to ten more minutes talking before we can leave.

Another hour passes and we have polished off the last of pork and beans with smiles and swollen stomachs.  “Nice lady,” Gilmer comments.

I tell him how she got the moniker, la angel del barrio. My first night in Merida Gilda saw me outside my house thinking I was lost because she had never seen me before. Since then she has fed me twice, showed me around Progresso while visiting an old persons home and gotten me an appointment with an ENT physician to clean out my ears. “Yeah, you’re right, Gilmer, she’s a nice lady.”

The night ends with Gilmer sleeping in my living room because he has to be up early for his new job the next morning. Merida Noches don’t quite match up to Boogie Nights but this one had a lotta love even without Nicolette Larson.

In the Beginning There Was the Word…

21 09 2012


Why be Merida’s Night Writer? Language, language, language.

English is my first language.  In a past life when I learned the language of computers one of my training sessions was taught by a Yalie who explained his move from teaching Greek to teaching Operating Systems as just “learning and teaching another language.” An inamorata of mine spoke 5 languages but when she stopped speaking the language of love it was time to move on. Now I’ve come to the Yucatan to learn to truly say, “Hablo espanol!!!”

The language of the novelist is the language of the storyteller.  My first novel “Songs of Icarus” is done and the second is underway. Hopefully Vida en Merida will help me become a better storyteller and not take the 10 years it took to write the first novel.

Last of all here we will read and write the language of freedom. The freedom of living without expectations – my expectation of you or your expectation of me. Being in Mayab seems to allow that. It’s only been two weeks since I arrived but I feel as though we have all been invited to become one with the Maya, the Yucatan’s chosen people. Join Merida’s Night Writer in discovering the language and love of the White City.

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