Margarita continued...

of course...

I was sleeping in the "arm chair"... one of my favorite rincones (alcoves) in "our" house, where I have my bookshelf... the armchair below the staircase that leads upwards...  infront of the loveseat... There's a shelf, also below the staircase where we have the professional coffee grinder and the scale...  Also there's my collection of teas... but real tea, not tizanas...  

I had just awakened from sleeping in that armchair, with one leg up on the arm, as Margarita explained to me last night, is how my mother often sits in chairs... I was surprised at that observance... For Margarita, that was a happy connection... memory of my mother... and the things her son does...  unknowingly connected with her... what else do we do unknowingly that our parents do?

I spent my life dying like my father... Then when I reached his age of dying, I left for Mexico... 

I was exhausted from the incredibly stressful night... the heat... the concerns about my brothers-in-law... the work on the 2.5 acres of coffee land that I bought for Margarita, that I had given to 2 brothers-in-law, that my father-in-law decided to take over... without informing us that he would be responsible for planting the 2,000 coffee plants I bought... And, yes, he's more responsible in many ways... It's more likely that he'd do a better job... However, there's a reason why I suggested that José Francisco and Willy do the work... because, it's time for the sons to take over the work on the ranch, to take it up a notch... My father-in-law just turned 79-years-old... Not one of his 8 sons has his strength or his health... or his responsibilities... Mexican chauvinism... the father is king and no one should better him... But what does that leave for the family, for his grandchildren, for the community?  One day he won't be able to do the work he does so well... and how will his grown children respond?

Again, you think that I spend my time thinking about my past life... No.  I spend most of my time dealing with the life we live... the life they live... the life I wish for Margarita's nieces and nephews, since the government didn't worry about them; ready cheap workforce...  Material prima...  Material prima?  What's that in English?  Raw product... Who makes money from a high quality coffee product?  Starbucks... Green Mountain Coffee Roasters... #1 and #2 coffee buyers in the world...  

Did you know that Petroleum isn't the only black gold... The coffee bean also is on the commodities exchange market...  Convert a kilo into a cup... convert thousands of kilos into tens of millions of cups of coffee and you've made more money than you would mining gold...  

Raw material: Mexican agricultural... Mexicans for foreign factories in Mexico... the 15th wealthiest country; the 10th most populated country...  One of the wealthiest countries in natural resources... Minimum wage for one 8 hour day (if they were paid by the hour or the day):  $4 US Dollars...  the least "deserving" worker in the U.S. makes more than twice that per hour...  So, you understand why so many Mexicans flee to the U.S...  And if Mexico has a much better economy and work situation than its southern neighbors, imagine the need for the other Latin Americans to find work and life in the U.S...

I try teaching my brothers-in-law to beat around the classist, racist trap, the history of the Spanish Conquest, Latin American "Neo-Liberalism" repeating Spaniard techniques of the 16th through the 19th centuries...

So, there I was sitting in the armchair, like my mother and Margarita said, "since you're sitting there, I'll place a flaxseed and cucumber mask on your face... We've gotta do it three times..."  And I asked, "why?" and she said, "I don't know..."  Of course she knew... or she wouldn't have created the mix and said that we must do it three times...

But, since I was a bit jetona...  in a certain exhausted and relaxed trance for the first time in what seems like hours, I didn't say anything, didn't move... didn't even react to the coldness of the soup, since I guess the cucumbers had been refrigerated beforehand or mix had been refrigerated...  Very refreshing... although, when the "mask" dries, it begins itching...

Margarita climbs the steps with the soup in her hand, her face green and exclaims, "IT ITCHES", and I laugh, because when I'm not focussing on the writing, I feel the itching... and she asks me if I itch too... And she says, "I've gotta put it all over your body.  Imagine that? But, it would distract me from what I've gotta do today..." And she says, "it also has cabbage larvae..." And I just look at her.... I'm in one of those strange "Mexican" moods were I'm pretty stoic... The fingers move expressively on the keyboard, but the face remains expressionless...  and then I ask, "are you being serious?" ya never know here in Mexico... and she says, "no" and then says, "I placed ground chiltipin chile pepper in it... Imagine that?" since she was suffering from the picor, the itching...  And I control myself from scratching...  Margarita says, "you're gonna shower right after it dries this third time... I would hate for the itching to trigger an alergic reaction..."

When I was relaxing, sleeping in the armchair, Margarita was listening to the wonderful Mexico City alternative rock group Café Tacuba...  David Byrn of "the Talking Heads" recorded a song with the lead singer a few years back... If you saw "Amores Perros" you heard some of their music...  Margarita was washing dishes... She had just finished preparing a salad... I had dropped down from writing on the computer... exhausted... I must control the urge to pick, since I must weight until 7pm to eat again... A necessary project in control... discipline... Margarita said, "I left the dishes for you..."  I wasn't enthusiastic about the idea and ignored the comment... I guess I was too tired... Someone made the comment about a strange intense energy in the air... I thought it was my very own personal problem... She said that she hadn't drunk enough coffee to produce such a physical effect... I mentioned that I drank 1.5 cups of coffee, but with breakfast... not a lot of coffee... and mixed with food...

"As if it were a full moon..." and she responded, "exactly"... to which I added, "a very bad sign for the people..."

Standing at the door to the patio, next to the sink full of dirty dishes... my mind in the writing... a strange periodic obsession that actually feels real good, although it is extremely dangerous... A slightly emaciated Torone flew down to what was left of the guava tree Cruz foolishly cut down...  Margarita said, "the dove (the call them miniture doves here, although they aren't) is looking for water... which made me think that others are suffering too from the drought and heatspell... Margarita had left a bucket full of water with the mop on the patio, right below where the Torone was sitting... she ignored the risk of my nearness and repeatedly eyed the bucket, calculating the possibilities... But at this moment "Orejitas" (Puppy Ears) came running up to the door, having noticed my presence and the opportunity of playing keep-away with me... The Torone flew to the Avocado tree... for suffering a while more...  

Last night, during intermittent sleep, I dreamed that I hugged Margarita's twin sister, laying on the bed... but in the middle of some strange parking lot...  and Margarita's twin sister kissed me thrice on the lips... inviting me... But, I just remained embrace against her, with my hand on her naked hip... full of desire... controlling myself... for what seemed like the whole night... knowing that the dream was mixed with reality... occasionally occurs... Telling Margarita about the dream, she feigned jealousy and said, you should have risked the taboo...  I'm certain I wouldn't have minded your screwing my twin sister...  Strange dreams...  

And, I guess she remembers having kissed me those three times...  And here I was worried about infidelity, although in half-sleep dreams... How strange...

I told her that I contemplated moving my hand, "violating her" in the dream... although she had kissed me, I didn't know if she had invited me to be infiel (unfaithful) with her twin sister... Margarita said, "you should have violated her."  

Crazy shit... Even in the dreams we must be conscientious, considerate... Humans have natural desires... desires and sudden impulses that go against certain rules, norms... that we must keep in check...  that we must consider and reconsider and weigh out the value... the true value...  I've lived this way here in Mexico for 14 years...  Cultural, experiencial, educational differences and conflicts... Racism... unfair attacks... at any given moment... unfair accusations... And I'm not talking about Margarita...  The incredible struggle for making a life together... Me in an incredibly foreign land with so little consideration for the people... So much invidia... worse than jeolousy, worse than envy... as strange, intense combination elevated to an epidemic proportion, a horrible Mexican illness that pulls everyone into the muck... 14 years of wondering if it truly is worth it...  controlling my flight...  and keeping my head above water... Idealist tourists can't know this about Mexico... Don't wish for raining on their parade, on their vacation... don't wish for knowing Mexico as it truly is and not as their 7 day vacation necesitates...  And, it's cool... Afterall, I repeatedly mention that these have been the best 14 years of my life...  I don't exaggerate... Imagine what I left behind...

But that doesn't mean that I don't have reactions, impulses and desires I must consider and maintain in check... I've never truly written about Mexico on this blog... And I highly doubt I'll truly write about it tomorrow... Why live it twice... Why relive what I'm living at the moment?

Margarita... It's amazing that she grew up intact, no problems, no issues, no complexes...  just extreme poverty and certain aspects of malnutrition... heavy alcoholism "on the ranch", foolish sexism... heavy male chauvenism, also practiced by the women against their daughters and other women... taught equally by the women...  The culture has the people turned upside down, and backwards, walking on their hands, turned inside out... When a malnurished, maleducated, abused, oppressed, exploited alcoholic and sexist male declares himself and the rest of the males the chiefs of a community, there is very little opportunity for progress...

First you've gotta remove the alcohol, feed the pregnant women and children adequatetely, teach the girls and young women to be more independent and have more respect for and faith in themselves, offer better ideas and education to the children... 

Maybe they'll lynch you for that... for "rocking the boat"...  

"Don't worry about your in-laws... don't plan for them... Just worry about Margarita and yourself, your relationship..."  

And there you have part of it...

Sounds dire... Come live here... But outside of the Expatriot communities of San Miguel de Allende and Oaxaca... come live as a Mexican... with the Mexican economy of the lower than middle-class... the 50% of the population below the poverty level... the other 20+% considered at constant risk of falling below that level... Not with the upper-middle class Mexicans who studied abroad or at the Autonamous National University of Mexico, which 12 years ago was rated in the top 90 of the best universities of the world... a lot of foreign professors...  foreign investment... international academic and scientific projects... No, you must avoid those who speak English almost as a first language... Come practice Spanish with Margarita and I and the people who surround us...  And, yes, José Montaña has his son, daughter-in-law, grandson in Texas; his daughter-in-law is "American"... only English spoken there... And, yes, his family was one of the first Krishna families in Mexico... and he and his family have travelled repeatedly to India... But, José and his wife and 2 of his 5 children aren't fluent in English... No, they don't speak English... Nance speaks Spanish, English and French... But, she's, Lupita and José jr, frown upon us...  We're below them...  Classism is learned in the crib here...

In their minds, their oldest brother moved up when he studied University in Texas, married his first "blonde white trash" wife, obtained his green card there, divorced her and remarried... With his diploma and his green card, he finds decent work there...  I'm much better educated than José Jr... come from a much higher cultural level, married a woman who is respected by everyone who speaks with her, has much self-respect, but who was born one level above indigenous... Because of this, we are frowned upon by José's children... 

What can you do?