Travelog I

After the all night (almost) birthday in the street, we needed some R&R so Sunday we drove through the next town of Ixtaczoquitlan (Say outloud 3 times quickly); their little bandstand in the plaza is decorated with charming twisting vines and stylized tulips painted in bright colors. Some of the small houses we passed were also marvelous colors: pink with purple trip, sea green, turquoise, yellow and more. Can't you just see it in a quiet USA suburb? We also passed by some really ancient shallow steps leading up a small hill. This hill used to house a shrine to "La Santa Muerte" but it is no longer there since Dick talked with the lady across the street about that particular pagan devotion. Then on down a small winding dusty road carefully avoiding oncoming traffic (not much of it) until we arrived at the famous water springs called Los Sifones. On the way we saw butterflies the size of small birds, and a really unforgettable tree: I'm guessing here, but maybe 8 feet in diameter, taller than a 4 story building, branches reaching in all directions. It could house the Swiss Family Robinson and a multitude of relatives. Maybe a small town. It's hard to tell the species of trees here, they are so full of Spanish Moss and flowering parasites like orchids. Nearby was a tiny shack made entirely of upright branches (poles). I think someone lived there. When we got to the Sifones, we strolled alongside a running stream. On the sides of this we saw trunks of other huge trees, 2 1/2' or more in diameter, most had been cut, and the stump left to rot in the water. Here, even trees cut to nothing left will sprout new branches and grow again. And all along the way we passed the growing fence posts. Behind them were the usual suspects: cows, burros, little brown sheep, an occasional horse. (By the way, sheep reallyl DO say "Baaaa" , in case you weren't clear on that.) Well, must tend to daily life here: The parish gardener is working, a neighbor is cutting up a large dead tree with a huge ax to take the wood, my helper is scrubbing and trying to manage the goofy wringer washer (sans wringer). The Tall Blonde Preacher is studying, and I am obviously engaged in serious pursuits. Now I must continue writing "thank-you" letters to the many folks who helped us get settled here.