Monday, November 2

No classes today. It’s Dia de los Muertos. People go to the cemetery and neaten up the graves of loved ones. I asked Maria Lydia, my Spanish teacher, what happens when the cemetery is full. It’s a beautiful cemetery but there’s finite space. She said they dig up the people who’ve been dead for many many years, consolidate their bones, and put them back with a freshly-dead family member. Sounds macabre to me, but certainly can fit more cadavers that way. Maria Lydia cried all the way through our Saturday class. I’ve been studying w/ her for 6-1/2 years so we’re good friends. Her mother, who’d been sick for a year or so, died a week ago. I asked her to tell me about her mom’s illness. That was the end of my lesson. She poured out details of her mom’s illness, death, her sister coming from Florida, etc. I was able to understand just enough Spanish to pat her hand in the right part of the story and nod appropriately. I did learn the words for mausoleum and tombstone. Somewhere I’ll fit those into a conversation. The city electricity went out for two hours just as night was beginning to fall. I had time to light every candle in the house and find the flashlights and take a shower before all semblance of light was gone. It’s always an adventure here. On my walk to work, I alternate sides of the street to stay in the shade. There’s a long stretch near Parque Central without buildings, thus no shade. A gringo passing me advised, “I would invest in a hat if I were you.” He then proceeded to tell me about his scalp skin cancer. He had no way of knowing that I’m the Queen of Carcinoma and I can talk basal cell with the best of them. My dermatologist offered to put a cot in his office for me. My leg scars persist and I’ve had to finally give up on the long pants and resort to shorts. As you saw in the photos of the Dinner/Movie night, this heat is an excuse for all the people who should not be wearing abbreviated clothing to put on shorts and tank tops and let it all hang out, whether anyone wants to see it or not. And, shamefully, I’m one of the offenders. Walking home from school with two of my students, Antonia and Concepcion, we came across the ugliest tiniest skinniest hairless puppy in an abandoned cardboard box. We stopped to try to figure out what to do. I left them with the problem because I’m in a rental for the next 6 weeks and then I’m on a plane. I can’t harbor a puppy. I fretted all night, berating myself for not trying to find some sort of shelter. The next morning Antonia told me that “Princesa” is now her puppy. She has a family in the house all the time, along w/ a 2-year old who’s delighted to have a pet. I did offer to pay vet bills. My student Ramon asked me the meaning of “well.” He explained that I say it all the time. He said I used to say, “So…"