Life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans” John Lennon
My bus ride had just begun and as we wound our way up the mountain, when this song (above) came on. I just love this song, the way it breaks at around the 30 second mark into such a pretty melody has always given me joy. I never bothered to translate the words, just enjoyed the vibe, somehow it just resonated with me despite not have the meaning. Sort of like some of my conversations with people here, the complete meaning of words do not have to be there to understand. No matter how many times I hear this song that second where the break happens always makes me happy, so it seemed appropriate this morning to hear it as I made my way to visit with Jenny and her family.
I was a bit nervous because I had to get off the bus in a different location than normal and worried I would miss the spot. So I let the music take me away and let the stress go – it would be fine. I misjudged the road and ended up getting off too early, but it was a beautiful morning, the walk enjoyable, just longer than expected. I made a conscious effort to remember landmarks which would help me for the next time and smiled as I continued on my way.
As I approached the house, I saw Marina standing on her balcony, head down sweeping the floor. I stood below her, still unnoticed, and said “Hola”. She looked up from her task broke into a smile and I could see she was holding back tears as she began to walk towards the stairs. I made my way up, realizing as I did so, she maybe thought I wasn’t coming. The bus would go right past her house, and she was watching for me as she swept – but no Gabriel. The bus went by without me getting off. She hugged me fiercely when I reached her and we held each other for a few minutes. How good it felt to be welcomed in this way. We went into the house where I met Vincente and then sat in their bedroom which had been transformed into a sitting room with their Christmas tree on display. The bed was gone.
It’s always a bit awkward with the language barrier, but this did not stop us from trying. Jenny was not home, so the translator was not of much benefit, but I broke the ice by giving them the picture I drew. Marina seemed embarrassed, especially realizing that she had not taken off her hat for the photo I used to work from. It did not matter I said, she was still beautiful. She wanted to see pink in her lips – the picture was only in pencil. So on my next visit I will bring my pastels to see if I can add some color for her. I was nervous about doing so in case I wrecked the drawing, as I am not very comfortable doing people especially when it is important to be accurate. I am not as skilled in this area as I would like to be.
We enjoyed a light breakfast, but as we ate I learned Marina is dealing with much pain in her hips and hands. Arthritis is part of the cause, but I am not sure what is happening with her hips and this is when I get frustrated for my lack of spanish. She showed me all the pills she had to take with a disgusted look and then made gestures to show me there was pain, pain, pain, then she was asleep. I could not help but laugh at the way she explained the purpose of the pills, we both had a good belly laugh, which made Vincente curious – he came to see what was so funny. I watched her demonstrate once more, and again we broke into laughter. It is not funny though that she is in so much pain and I truly wished I could do something to ease her discomfort.
It did nothing to slow her down throughout the day however, and right after our breakfast we headed to the corn fields to see how much the corn had grown.
The plants were barely out of the dirt the last time I was here, so it was great to see how well things were growing….
They plant the peas, beans and squash with the corn, the vines climbing on the corn stalks – compatible plants. Like us here in the Intag Valley, they have had quite a bit of rain, but like us I think they are wishing for the rain to slow down a bit. Marina is proud of her land, proud there is not chemicals used and I was proud to be able share her pleasure. She held my hand as we walked, her grip firm as if she wanted to make sure I was real. I found this a pleasant experience, realizing it had been a very long time since anyone had held my hand in this way. It was lovely to feel this connection knowing her affection for me was genuine, her grasping my hand in this way showing me I was welcome in her life. My thoughts were drifting to a past filled with so many years of loneliness when being touched meant I was being hurt, not loved. With such a simple gesture, I was given the gift of love from someone I barely knew, could barely communicate with. I went quiet inside, my ability to deal with this beauty not easy as it is so foreign to me. But I wasn’t scared, and this too was foreign to me. The lessons which come unexpectedly, reflected in the words of a song that touched my ears as I began this day.
Try as I may, I was not allowed to help Marina in the kitchen, but I did watch as she prepared the chicken for our meal. She used a black stone to turn garlic, onion, salt and green pepper into a paste which she pushed under the skin of the bird. I have to tell you that was one of the best chicken dinners I have ever had. I watched as Jenny and her mother worked together, their affection and companionship so pleasant to see. Again brought back to a childhood when for me working in the kitchen with Helen meant humiliation, something to be avoided. I could not help but smile as I watched how easily they worked together, laughing and talking – nothing but love in this kitchen.
I spent time with Tigre and Oso (bear), their dog as this is where I am most comfortable, the animals giving me focus as I felt a bit helpless not being able to help. As we sat down to our meal, a man came by, who ended up joining us at the table. He ate with us as he explained his troubles. I did not understand what he was saying of course, but it was obvious that something in his life had given him much heartache. I would learn later from Jenny, this man’s wife had left him. It had not been a friendly split, she had been very difficult, the details, something I do not feel right sharing. I could only feel sad for the pain some feel they need to inflict in order to justify what they are going through, as if this will heal their wounds.
When I made my plans to have this visit, I was unsure about how long to stay, not wishing to outstay my welcome. This has always been difficult for me, knowing when to leave because of my own insecurities stemming from childhood experiences. In our conversation when I explained the different buses I could return home on, Jenny replied, that it was better for the visit to be long……so it was decided I would take the 5:00 bus home, and Marina and Jenny took me to the ticket office to buy my boleto. We spent our remaining time together collecting plants from the corn field for the cows, then bringing the cows in for the night, Jenny and I walking arm in arm as if we had know each other forever.
11 babies – poor mama….. 
Well now we know where the term “Piggyback” comes from
Well, I gotta tell you we all had a very good belly laugh when I showed everyone the picture of the pigs eating. To me this photo is priceless and I was so lucky to be there at the right moment to snap it. Kind of a double decker system of feeding…..
Time was running out, the day seeming suddenly short as we made our way back to town where I would catch the bus. Marina asked me when I would be coming back, but I was unsure. Pulling up the calendar on my phone, seemed the best way to decide what day was best for them. I was not wanting to intrude on any family Christmas time, unsure of how they spend it. So I was thinking around the middle of the month. This seemed to be settled, but then Marina said what about the 25th – Navidad? My mouth dropped open as I stared at her. “Really? This would be ok with you”? I said. They were all excited now, they insisted this was the best day for me to come back. I really couldn’t believe it, such a beautiful family to spend this day with, a day which normally is so difficult for me for reasons still unknown. I had to pinch myself to make sure it was real. And with that settled, seemingly with perfect timing as the clock approached 5:00, Marina patted her heart and fought back the tears as she knew I had to leave in just a few minutes. It was a very emotional goodbye – we hugged each other tight, both of us trying not to cry. I was glad that for once it was not just me fighting to stop the tears. They watched me get on the bus which arrived while we said our good-byes, then drove back home.
I watched for them as the bus made it’s way Pulling up in front of their house. Someone got off at the bustop directly in front of their home, the very bench I sat on to rest months ago, which gave me time to wave good-bye once more. Jenny and Marina were waiting on the balcony to wave as I went by. The woman beside me was curios about why I was waving to them, so I proudly said “es mi Amigas” (which is not very good spanish, but…). She seemed a bit surprised, giving me a closer look. Maybe she knew them, because she did not live that far away, getting off the bus close to the area I disembarked in the morning.
I pondered some of the things they said to me while we had been waiting in the car for the bus. Was it just bizarre coincidence that the song which began my morning ride began playing as the bus left Jenny’s community? Pretty incredible to have the familiar comfort of this song hit my ears as we made our way home, thinking about their questions. They wondered why I was alone, why I was not in a relationship. One of the most difficult questions for me to answer right now. How do you explain the heart can only be broken so many times and that you could not survive another one. I could think of nothing to say as an easy answer to their question regarding a life of heartache and so just gave a sad smile and shook my head. They said something like “Why would one so lovely not want to be with someone?” Would they be able to see that I am too broken to try again, if I tried to explain it to them? She also asked me about the scar on my face, how I got it, something which surprised me. I couldn’t remember the last time someone noticed and asked me about my cheek. I wondered, does this mean it’s significance can once more be shared? Perhaps it is just that she sees past the mask I have hidden behind during my life – she sees more.
I arrived home safe and sound to a very happy Mali who waits patiently in my room while I’m on these adventures. As I settled in my room checking for messages, I was delighted to see one from my son. He attached some photos which I am proud to share.
It seems such a special way to end this day. There is so much uncertainty in my life right now as I struggle to find solutions for surviving here, but this day was full of messages grounding me to that which is unseen and not always understood. From the subtlety of lyrics I had yet to learn in english to a photo which seemed to come from the grave. As the river flows and speaks to me, (mentioned in yesterday’s post), I feel it’s message is to be carried away by it’s unexpected course. Go with the flow…..the answers are within, and fear will not bring them to the surface, but rather keep them hidden.