Life

Very rarely we have the chance to be in the right place at the right time!
Life gives you subtle reminders that our time here is brief. Today, I received
one of those rare reminders. As I was walking down the street a small bird
was struggling to fly. He keep tumbling. I thought one of his wings was broken
so I picked it up, thinking I could get him to a vet. Minutes afters, he died in my
hand!!! I can not think of it without crying.

Sunday's in Tekax

Thirty year and a bit have passed me by. I’ve seen things change constantly. My hometown, a small town, has now transformed into a chaotic sort to say city. My childhood house is no longer a home but my dad’s workshop. My grandma’s house is my parents home and my favorite trees on both of them have disappeared and been replace by a thick, heat-absorbent, colourless, lifeless block of concrete.  

My parents are 30 and a bit older than I remember. My grandparent is also 30 and a bit older. Somehow time has also managed to shrink them. They are no longer those giant figures who protected my childhood dreams from the real world of men.

I saw once in a TV program that everyone has a safe zone. It’s a place where you dream of going when you are tense, afraid, insecure, nostalgic or alone. Usually is an old memory of a place or a feeling, an activity, a dream a person, a pet or a combination of everything which comforts and relaxes you.  For me, one of the many safe zone is my grandparents house from my dad side. The astonishing thing is that since I remember the house and feeling of the small town hasn’t changed. Well, maybe it has, but not dramatically from one day to another or even from one year to another. My grandma is not with us anymore. I remember her sitting on the front porch with all her grandchildren telling us Mayan legends: the dwarf king and the Ixtaba were my favorite. In the afternoon she would give us permission to cut down lemons and oranges “chinas” from her back garden to eat. She would teach us how to play “Damas chinas”. At the end of each game separate meticulously the colour marbles and put them away in its original package; which from the look of it, was probably bought when my dad was still young. I suppose that the death of my grandma was one of the greatest changes that disturbed my perception in this confined corner of the world. But my grandpa, still being strong will keep on getting up at 6:00 am to do his morning shopping – still the market place resembles those of the pre-colombian times. Afterward he would still head to his workshop every morning to repair cars from the 50’s and still he would sit in front of the TV after dinner to watch the unveiling of the most popular soap oprah of that year. However, the same feeling of tranquility, comfort and happiness are still with me.

My favorite day of the week when I was there was Sundays. The long ritual of getting all dressed up for Sunday mass -- we would usually go to the afternoon one. Afterwards buy ice cream from the outside vendors who bring their snacks and little nibbles for those who had endured one hour of a monotonic spiritual talk –I really never listened to mass at that age- and then head down to the town’s central park.

I have three different view of that ritual now that I’m older. When I was younger, the whole family would go together to church, the park was a place to run. Usually my dad would run into an old acquaintance, who being the same age as my dad, had also kids and made the fun and games even more exiting. The second time around, when I was older and puberty was manifesting itself in all possible ways. The park was where the teenager would go to flirt. The park was constructed in a hexagonal shape, each side had an entrance, the main entrance was facing the entrance of the church. On Sundays the young teenagers or any one looking for a love partner would stroll down to the park. The girls would circle the park in one direction while the boys would circle the park on the opposite direction. The reason for this was that each time boys and girls would pass each other they could catch a frontal view of the boy or girl. The first round was to pick out a girl, the second round was to make him or her notice you, the third round would make him or her know you are interested and a few rounds later, after a few head nudges, girls giggling and encouragements you would approach her to take her to one of the parks bench and talk. Me being a "city girl" and not from this places, this ritual was quite amusing. First, flirting was a no  no, second “what would happen if a girls walk the same direction as the boys” and third, does this really works. To my surprise and astonishment, it did and it was fun.

 

The third time around, I’m taking my time to discover it…