The

I didn’t get many fotos taken this last week—just a few drips and dabs. It’s ok. There is plenty to look at.

I’m writing this with the knowledge that while I am safe and secure here in the Bajio, there is an extreme amount of flooding and destruction growing in the Yucatan from tropical storm Wilma. We are not feeling the influence of the storm at all from the weather, but we hear of it every day on the news. The state of Chiapas, in the South of Mexico, has been through a terrible time this year. The flooding has reached unprecedented proportions all over the region. I don’t know if the news in the US has mentioned it much. With the hurricanes, floods, and earthquakes all over the world in these past few weeks, I doubt it. It is sad though, we are neighbors and we know so little.

It looks like at work we will get a chance to do some of the work we would really like to do with one of our projects. I am moving to take more direct responsibility for one of our clients and I see opportunities to extend our work in medical education in new and exciting ways next year. It is a good feeling after a month of uncertainty about the future.

Last weekend I brought two acorn squash home from the Mega supermarket in Morelia. They have always been a favorite of mine and Lupita liked them when she lived with us in Sacramento. She had the impression they didn’t or wouldn’t grow in Mexico so I was glad to see them in a display of Calabasas Fantasia. I prepared them much as I would have in Sacramento, but of course with local flavor. I asked Librado to grind about 200 grams of beef and pork and add a short section of his chorizo. He consulted with me on what I wanted to do so he could pick the right cuts. I picked out some fresh, white mushrooms at the Mercado along with celery, green pasilla chiles, fresh cheese, and a big bag of roma tomatoes. With rosemary, onions, and garlic from the kitchen, I had everything I needed.

In Mexico, a simple can of stewed tomatoes is almost unknown. We have some cans in Mega from Greece, but with tomatoes always being so inexpensive and plentiful, almost no one buys such things. Regardless of the convenience, the flavor of fresh tomatoes is loved too much in Mexico to allow people to consider alternatives. What this means is that although you can buy canned puree, to make a tomato sauce most people roast their tomatoes and then cook them down to a sauce on the top of the stove. So, to make the stuffing for the squash I like, I roasted both the pasillas and the tomatoes. After steaming in a plastic bag for a little while, I peeled them and started cooking down the tomatoes to sauce.

Ovens are not used a great deal in Mexican homes. I suspect that early stoves had poorly regulated, leaky chambers that used more gas than they should and produced unreliable results. This means that most traditional home cooking relies on frying, boiling or open pan roasting on a dry comal. Ovens are a cabinet for pans. Seeing someone put together a meal that bakes in the oven is still a novelty, except in restaurants. I don’t cook my stuffed squash entirely in the oven; I find the results too unreliable. I split the squash and put it cut side down on a sheet of foil in a pan with about a half an inch of water. It bakes in a hot oven for about 45 minutes. While it is baking, I fry the mushrooms, onions, garlic and the meat.

In Mexico, ground meat at a butcher contains very little fat unless you ask for it. I generally don’t ask. It is better for you and a little olive oil works quite well for browning. Since I was using a little chorizo with this mixture, I had all the fat I needed. At the end, the browned vegetables, meats, vegetables and herbs all come together with the tomato sauce and enough breadcrumbs to keep the mixture from being too moist. Since it is already cooked, there isn’t much to do other than put the mixture in the squash shells, top it with cheese and a few more breadcrumbs. It goes back in the hot oven for another 20 minutes to “set” the stuffing, melt the cheese and brown the crumbs. It was received like it was some kind of magic. Cooking at home feels great.

So, the oven in the stove worked perfectly and my “work-arounds” to accommodate my usual recipe all worked just fine. I’m learning to work with grams and centigrade. Sorry this isn’t a formal recipe—I didn’t try to keep notes. Getting things for a meal like this in Cueramaro means walking all over town. There is no single market where everything is in one place. I don’t mind though, the exercise does me good and I just meet more people and learn more things. Nothing wrong with that.

wp:thumb src=”2005-10-15-1db.jpg” cap=”A wall showing many coats of paint over the years in Cueramaro. I used a dry brush effect on this one to bring out the detail in the peeling paint. ”—> ->

October 27th, 2005 by Mike
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A

It’s another Saturday afternoon. I am sitting in the dining room in the house in Cueramaro—writing and listening to Pandora. Pandora is a trio of women whose voices float through the room. Their music is at once both passionate and peaceful.

I’m feeling a little odd today. I’m moving to yet another little phase in my life here. Next week I will begin looking for an apartment. There is nothing permanent about it, it is just an opportunity to get out of the hotel and live my daily life a little more as I would like. But somehow, it feels larger. It doesn’t scare me. It has invigorated me.

Coming home to Cueramaro is always relaxing. I don’t realize during the week how tired I get sometimes; how much work takes over. When I am in Cueramaro there isn’t a lot to pull me in different directions. I sleep late. I take a siesta in the afternoons and regain myself.

Two weeks ago, I started preparing this entry. It was the day after the fiesta in Tupataro. I saw the late summer wildflowers while I was riding the bus home that Friday. They carpeted the hills and lined the roads. The Bajio is alive and green in late summer because of the rains. Again, in Rafael’s pickup going and coming back from Tupataro, I saw them. I asked Rafael to stop for a minute on the way back to Cueramaro to catch a few fotos of the flowers on the roadside. I knew it wouldn’t be enough to show what I was seeing so I planned to walk out of town on Sunday morning so I could take some time to just capture as much as I could.

That Sunday was bright and clear—it was a wonderful day for a walk. I decided to go towards Lupita’s little house on the edge of town. There is a field there that looks toward the hills and a number of overgrown roadsides. It wasn’t hard to find the flowers I was looking for. A small, wild marigold grows all over the Bajio. It grows in masses that carpet the fields and hides in the grasses that are lush this time of year. There are also several colors of morning glories and even a flower that looked like a small red zinnia. I don’t know the names, even vaguely, of all the flowers I saw but you can see for yourself if you take a walk through the gallery.

wp:thumb src=”2005-10-01-32.jpg” cap=”A beautiful flower that extends a long enough stem to stand above the grasses where ever it grows. This one is known all over Mexico. It isn’t unusual to see them in television ads this time of year.”—> ->

October 24th, 2005 by Mike
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In

Last weekend I got to go to Tupataro, a small town against the hills near Cueramaro. Because of its location, the town has a natural amphitheater that looks out across the Bajio and is the location for a three day Fiesta de Los Toros. Thousands of people come every year to see the local boys and men try their luck at riding the bulls with the aid of liberal doses of cervesa and much testosterone. No one knows which element plays a larger part in the scene.

I was told I had to go. The fiesta is for the patron saint of Tupataro, San Miguel, which also is celebrates my name day. Who would not go to the largest local fiesta in honor of the saint they were named after? I really didn’t need any pushing. I had seen the cars streaming out of Tupataro Friday evening as I came home from Morelia on the bus. I knew from the crowds, it must be an event worth seeing.

I went with Rafael, Rey’s brother. We went early, but not early enough to get a seat in the front seating around the ring. The bullring nestles against natural curve in the hill that allows people to sit among the rocks above ring with their families, above the formal seating. It might sound a bit primitive, and it is—but it is easy to just relax against the hill with your family, some food you brought and look out across the valley. I don’t imagine the first Greek amphitheaters where much different many centuries ago. Of course, they didn’t have a large portable stage at one end with continuous Banda being played by rotating groups, but that is a feature the “evolution” of modern life.

The sun was strong against the hill. Everyone brought umbrellas or hats. Rafael tried to get me to go and buy a hat before we left Cueramaro, but I wouldn’t have any of it. I haven’t been a much of a hat wearer since I left the army and I didn’t think one fiesta would change that. After a little more than an hour, standing in the sun on the hill, I relented, and bought a white straw “Texana” sombrero that is popular in this region. For 80 pesos, I decided I might use it once in a while when I take walks.

The event takes place on two sides of the ring. One side has younger animals and riders while the other is for larger bulls and more mature riders. Teams of cowboys from local ranches take turns handling the bulls, getting them ready for their riders and retrieving them after rides. The side with the younger riders uses horses, lassos and riders to recapture the bulls. The other side, with the larger bulls, handles them entirely by hand, which means recapturing them by using three men who walk toward the bull and look for opportunities to lasso it. It is as much a display of the skills of the cowboys who handle the bulls, as it is skill of the bull riders. Sometimes the demonstrations go well, sometimes not.

There is a ringmaster, more or less, who has a holster for his wireless microphone on one side of his belt and one for a can of beer on the other side. He tries to keep the event moving and makes sure the band of the moment fills the air with music while the cowboys prepare another bull for a ride. Since he wore a red shirt and walks the ring itself, instead of standing with the band, he is often as much at risk as the cowboys.

The bandstand was large to accommodate the size of the bands that came. Banda groups typically have a full horns section with trumpets, trombones, and bass horns. Their wind section always has several clarinets, which are often in several keys. They use several drums and an electric keyboard. Along with some guitars and a few singers, you have a full-sized dance band. The better groups, like the ones that played for the fiesta, have matching sports jackets and trousers and dance in step while they play. Banda is a bit of an acquired taste in music—it has elements of klezmer, polka, and Western swing, along with all out brass. To unaccustomed ears, it sounds a bit off key and noisy, but after a while you begin to get what it is all about.

We stood for four hours on the side of the hills watching the rides. My legs were stiff and tired. When I tried to walk, they felt like they were rooted to the ground. But, after a few steps and the help of a Modelo Especial—I got them moving. We left before most of the traffic by the dusty road that leads back to Tupataro. There were a lot of sprained and broken wrists this day and a few damaged ribs I’m sure. I don’t think I could have ever ridden a bull, but it was fun just the same. If you want to visit with me, take a look at the fotos of Tupataro in my gallery.

wp:thumb src=”2005-10-01-24.jpg” cap=”As the shadow of the hill creeps across the ring, a rider tries his luck on one of the larger bulls. You can see his hat is flying off to the right if you look for it. The hands are just starting to walk out to be ready to help when needed.”—> ->

October 11th, 2005 by Mike
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A

I’m in Cueramaro on a Saturday morning, listening to my “new” Frank Sinatra albums while I think back over the past several weeks. We have been very busy, and I am very much behind with my writing. I have been posting some fotos though, and they are being found by those dedicated enough to look.

Two weeks ago now, I stayed in Morelia for a full weekend for the first time. I have wanted and needed to do it for a long time because there are a couple of things we need for the house in Cueramaro. Morelia is, or should be, an easy place to look. I just hadn’t been able to find the time during the week. I also wanted to have a chance to sample what there is to do in Morelia except eat, sleep and work!

The opportunity came because my friend Delilah, from San Miguel de Allende, didn’t really want to stay in San Miguel for the yearly running of the bulls and wanted to come to Morelia for the weekend. I bravely said I would show her around, realizing that I didn’t know as much about the city as I should. To prepare, I started getting a copy of La Voz every morning in the preceding week and looking at the calendar and social sections. Morelia has a lot to chose from so it is a chore to know where to start, but I made a trip down to the tourist information office as well, so I was as prepared as I could be.

As you should understand from the foto that opens this entry, I needn’t have worried. If you let it, Morelia has more than enough just around the Plaza de Las Armas to keep you mesmerized. Groups of troubadours are just one of the many forms of music that will enfold you. Over the course of the weekend we heard mariachi groups, banda, a symphonic brass choir, jazz, and of course, troubadours complete with classic clothes and instruments. Mexico has so much live music, with so much variety and quality; it never ceases to amaze me. It is something my life had been without for a long time and I didn’t know how much I missed.

Delilah has been an interior designer in New York, so of course I had to take her to one of our most noted design firms in Morelia, Mercedes. I found their shop shortly after I came to Morelia for the first time and it has always been something special in my mind. The quality of the pieces they have put together is a wonder, and we both agreed, continues to be world class. But we found out something more, the same group has an excellent restaurant just a few blocks away from the design shop. We were hooked. We had to try it.

What followed that evening was an experience in service, style and quality that is hard to match anywhere. We dined on watercress salad, a fine filet with poblano chiles, and all the proper side dishes. The interior of the restaurant is beautiful, as you would expect, but not intrusive.

On Sunday, I had some time to walk—something I love to do in Morelia. I made my way to the end of the aqueduct that originally provided water to the city, many centuries ago. There is a large plaza there that families bring their kids to and a large park, the Bosque Cuauhtemoc, that has many monuments and sculptures and shady paths to relieve the mind. Because it is in between the area where I work and the Centro district, I have to take the opportunity to return more often.

Over the course of the weekend, I also got to introduce Delilah to what a city in Mexico has to offer in the way of modern shops. Our large grocery and general merchandise store, Mega, properly amazed her. It is as good as anything you will find in any city anywhere. Our small mall, Plaza Las Americas, had more than enough to satisfy her needs for major store shopping. We sampled lunch at Emiliano’s, a fine Italian restaurant in the Las Americas district and just enjoyed the pleasures an organized, gracious city has to offer.

I also got to go to see some dance groups at the concert hall. It was again, a wonderful experience. I wish I could have taken some fotos, but it was a more formal setting than in Cueramaro and it was not permitted. There were two groups who did dances that were popular in Mexico from the late 1800’s through the first half of the last century. The amount of energy and spirit the groups radiated made chills go down my spine. The two groups were quite different. One was what you might expect—young, athletic, and tireless. The other group was the Ballet Folklorico Coyucan, an older group that ranges from their mid-30’s through 50’s. They danced with just as much energy, but with even more pride and happiness than their younger counterparts. The dances the two groups did ranged from slipper dances from Chiapas to some of the dances from Northern Mexico that influenced US Southwest up to the present day. To see an evening of energetic, and beautiful dance for 60 pesos in a nice, modern concert hall—well, what can I say? I would go again and again if I could.

Every Saturday night, there is a fireworks and light show around the main cathedral that is attended by hundreds who stand in the street and salute this fine city. It would fit as well in Disneyland as does here in the heart of Mexico.

Walk with me through this fine city in my updated foto gallery for Morelia. I hope you find it to be as much of a pleasure as I do.

wp:thumb src=”2005-09-25-30.jpg” cap=”Walking in the Bosque Cuauhtemoc, a large, beautiful park in the heart of the vibrant city of Morelia.”—> ->

October 10th, 2005 by Mike
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