I’m a Guest Bard! Pop over to Lizzi’s blog and find out why you need to choose a favorite color before you get sick in Mexico.
Part two of my adventures with jungles, weeping women, and a very hairy god.
A sweaty day in spring 2006 found me perched inside a truck bed stuffed with rebel sympathizers and snack cakes. As we hurtled down a road transformed by potholes into muddy Swiss cheese, my friend Jesse ducked to one side – deftly avoiding a high-speed collision with a branch – and cried out, “Andaleeeeeee!”
When you last saw me, I was frolicking with my new puppy in a rural paradise. But then, a most mundane thing happened: the money ran out.
In Mexico, the second day of November is El Día de los Muertos – The Day of the Dead. I had been taken with the trappings of this holiday before I moved to Xalapa, but I had no idea what it really meant to people until I met Julio.
In the land of San Andres Tuxtla, amid a riot of green and a tumble of rivers, the village of Ruiz Cortines perches atop a dormant volcano. It is a place of excessive rain and strong winds, but life flourishes there. And so does Liliana.
When I showed up for my first day of classes wearing the only dress slacks I owned, I was in no way officially qualified to teach English.
Había una vez, en una tierra lejana, una joven con ojos de camaleón. Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was a young woman with chameleon eyes. Tonight, I’m going to surrender to what’s on my heart and tell you some stories about Mexico.