All paths lead to luis gomez

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2 Enero 2010

Holiday time is great - lots of sitting around drinking ginger tea, lots of visitors to liven things up, a slow realization that everyone in the village is in fact related (finally explains why none of the teenagers have boyfriends or girlfriends in the village - as one pointed out to me, its not okay to date your cousin), plenty of dominos and dance partners. It also brings more noise, and after a few days of sharing the house I live in with 8 more people than usual who talk at an elevated volume, some might say scream, I decided that some time out about alone would not be such a bad thing. In my meandering around town I had seen several roads, some might say paths, and decided I would see where I could end up. After my third day of walking these caminas, I realized no matter where I went, I was going up, and to go up meant to go to Luis Gomez.

The first path I took led me up about an hour over the town I live in, past fields of yucca up into the hills. I ended up on the middle of a street that was basically deserted minus some mariachi music that was meandering up from some house I never did see. The dog who goes wandering with me was impatient or maybe dehydrated, so we didn’t stick around for long. The second path I took was in an attempt to find the cave that everyone here in the village talks about but no one has wanted to show to me. I had been told to go arriba (means up or also ahead here) so when I saw a path leading up the hills away from the river I took it - the whole time looking at every rock like it were a possible entrance to some strange cave, but in the end, I ended up basically in someone’s backyard. Once again slightly abandoned with music mysteriously coming from somewhere. Something about it rang a little too close to something out of Deliverance so I headed out, only to bump into an old man who let me know where I was. The third time, I followed a slightly wider road, that brought me up for about an hour and a half looping around hillsides and cattle pastures to once again end up in Luis Gomez. And I found our missing bull.

The walking allows me a lot of time to think, which can be fruitful and frustrating. Fruitful because I come back sometimes with ideas, but more often than not, more at ease with the road I have taken by coming here. Its hard to complain about things going on here when you can take a walk into the hillside where passion-fruit, mangos and guava abound and where no matter who you meet you are always greeted with a smile. Frustrating because its easy to talk yourself in circles or convince yourself of something without having someone else there to give the side you cant see. But coming back down, when I think more about where my feet are taking me, where the incline is easy enough to open up the lungs and sing, its hard not to be happy with the place and people I’m coming down to.

January 13th
Tuesday evening at little before six our time, the earth trembled and shook. For us on this side of the border, it soon steadied. Though I hear very little news here, I understand that the damage has been severe and the loss of life staggering. Our hearts here go out to our neighbours more than ever…

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