Canadian Friends

Monday, August 1, 2011

I feel like I am trying to recreate the Diary of Ann Frank only there are no Natzy’s here and no one is trying to kill me.  I write and I write with hopes that people will read my words someday and talk about this dark day in history.  How we used to make borders and place people with guns at them and prevent others from crossing.  I want my children to not believe that that day once existed, but today is not the day and I am not that person who will change history.  I am just a woman homesick and sharing her thoughts with those who want to read them.  I head out to the local Cyber Café to post new entries to my blog and I spend three hours and way too much money on being able to connect with the world.  I chat with friends and search the internet for news of home.  Having any connection with home feels me with a little bit of joy and I make my way to the local juice shop for a “choco-mil” or chocolate milk only this one is treated with fresh shaved ice and tastes more like a shake than plain chocolate milk, I order a fresh strawberry one.  I walk through the town looking through the windows of local shops offering everything from food, candy, clothing and shoes lots of shoes.  My fruit guys is set up when I turn the corner an I buy a big cup of mango and back home for lunch. 

My blind aunt who is staying at my grandmothers for her summer vacation hears of an event in town and senses I could use a mental break.  She may be blind but she can sense that I need some cheering up.  We sit, laugh, and share jokes and stories, head out to the town square and notice that whatever is going on is going to be a big deal because there is a stage and a Mariachi.  Young people practice dances on the stage and the techs adjust volumes and microphones.  It turns out 16 years ago the governor of the state of Zacatecas decided that the state would create an annual festival celebrating folk music and dance.  Dance troops travel from all over the world for this annual celebration.  Sunday was the opening of the festival with a parade of all the dancers that will be performing for a week long at various places in the state capital.  After finding much international success with the festival the state decided to send out the troops to other cities in the state so people who could not travel to the state capital could still enjoy the beauty and culture that exists through music and dance.  Today we are lucky to have a dance group from the state of Colima here in Mexico and one from Canada.  I think it’s funny that I had to travel to Mexico to meet people from Canada, but this world is really so small that you can meet people from all over the world anywhere. 

As we wait for the dancing to commence I look around and watch the local vendors start to set up to sell local candies and street food.  Within the joy in the day I notice the local police and military.  Some wear face masks and others don’t but all of them wear machine guns.  Children play and run about while these men walk through the event machine guns in hand and fingers on the triggers.  We are all reminded that there are dangers here and even an innocent event can turn into a bloody massacre. The towns “presidente” shows up to make a speech along with other “respected” politicians from the area and all of them mention how beautiful it is to see the town square filled with families on a Monday night.  They express hopes of being able to forget the violence that surrounds us and hold more cultural events like the one we will see tonight.  I tell you though, it’s hard to picture those days when men stand behind you with machine guns.  The music plays and people sit and stand in awe of all the beauty.  Mexican and Canadian dancers take turns showing us regional dances from their parts of the world.  Young and old dancers join to bring a night of joy and hope to this little town.  I am fascinated by the Aboriginal Canadian dance group and I feel compelled to thank them afterwards.  I approach one of the dancers and thank him for coming all this way.  I am immediately surrounded by all the Canadian dancers eager to hear someone speak English to them so well.  I explain that I am from here but have grown up in California.  They ask how long I’ve been here and how much longer I am staying.  I am so happy to be having a conversation in English and I want to keep them here with me a little longer.  They are all kind and say how lovely Mexico is how much they enjoy the town, its people and how difficult the language is to understand.  I bid them farewell and like me don’t want me to go, but I must.  Aunt and I are due back home with “pan dulce and bolillos” for tonight’s dinner. 

I spend the rest of the night dreaming about the beautiful dresses and dances I saw earlier that night.  Shades of every color fill my dreams and every dance starts or ends with a kiss between lovers.  I watch the dances play out in my mind again and wish everyday could look like tonight’s.  There is so much beauty in the world and as humans we can’t stand to have it that way, we ruin it with hate and war.