The (Prolonged) Recovery
It has been three (long) weeks since Michael's knee surgery. While led to believe, by the Internet, that he would, by now, be performing back flips, the reality is that he cannot put weight on the leg for a few more days. He careens around the house in his desk chair, wearing his Fred Roger's sweater and has started listening to opera. It worries me. Now, like most wives, one of my favorite arguments has always revolved around the 50% contribution aspect. You know, "I'm doing more than my 50% of the housework... shopping... fill in the blank". While that may have arguably been true in the past, Michael was however dressing himself, getting his own glasses of water and administering his own medications. And, he will again. Very soon. And I don't mind that part. What was amazing to me was how much Michael did that I never even noticed. Dishwasher emptied. Trash out. Bed made. Cash withdrawals. Car gassed. Errands run. Okay, maybe not enough to win a Husband of the Year Award but significant. So, my pals, dwell on what they DO and pray that it's YOU and not HIM that needs knee surgery. And practice driving your desk chair.
Mexico, My Mexico
It hasn't just been Michael and me who have been having a rough few weeks. Mexico has had more than its share of disappointment and misfortune. The first inkling was the Globos Festival. Now you may remember that the Globos Festival involves teams of locals who create giant tissue paper hot air balloons and create fires that lift them into the air and far, far away. Except it didn't quite work out that way this year. Under the best of circumstances, it is a dicey affair. Held on a soccer field, positioned cheek to jowl, there is a lot of fire and propane and flammable materials with assorted children, dogs and drunks in the mix to make it more exciting. Conditions were not ideal. There was a very high wind (a precursor of more trouble to come) resulting in many balloons bursting into flames on the ground. Which was actually preferable to the ones that burst into flame at like 20' and showered embers or entire patches of burning balloon to the ground. There were no fatalities. That was the only good news.
The Globos Festival is only the first event in a three day weekend of parades, fiestas and charrias celebrating the greatest of Mexican Holidays -- Independence Day. So, the Globos was on Saturday and the high winds had turned into torrential rains by Sunday. There was a reason for this. Two very significant Tropical Storms/Hurricanes were headed to the West and East Coasts of Mexico simultaneously. By Sunday, we were beginning to experience the wrath of Manuel (and we are a couple of hundred miles inland). Now, you would expect that every public official in Mexico would be running for the FEMA bunkers (or equivalent if they exist) to oversee the wholesale emergency planning necessary to keep the country from being obliterated. I mean, come on, two storms at ONCE? Well, they would have liked to attend to that, but it was the night of the Grito and, weighing the relative importance of the Grito and mass catastrophe, they opted for the Grito.
At exactly 11:00 PM, throughout the country the head honcho of each municipality, state and the President of Mexico deliver the Grito -- which literally means yell or shout. Hildago, the guy who started the drive for Independence did the first one in Dolores (now Dolores Hidalgo) back in 1810. And every town hall has a balcony so that the honcho can yell from it. So, you can understand why, with two huge hurricanes bearing down on the coasts, most folks were consumed with either issuing the Grito or listening to it. But that's when the party just gets STARTED. And runs until dawn or so. And, even though it was raining cats and dogs (or gatos y perros as we say here) the fiesta went on while Rome burned-- or Acapulco drowned more accurately.
By Monday morning, the entire country was hung over, and Ingrid (storm 2) was headed into Veracruz. Manuel was still pummeling the west coast and something like 15-25" of rain was falling on the East Coast. By Wednesday, 155 municipalities were declared natural disaster sites and hundreds were dead. By Thursday, Manuel had reconstituted himself and slammed into Baja and Sinaloa (no doubt disrupting drug trafficking for at least 6 hours).
An unattributed Military Official stated: "authorities had underestimated the storms due to a lack of coordination and the distraction of the weekend's Independence related activities". It was kind of the equivalent of Bush's "You've done a hell of a job Brownie". I mean really. A big national party as an excuse?
So, how bad was it? Let's just take Acapulco, as an example, because I hate Acapulco since our fateful trip last March. Over 40,000 tourists who had spent the Holiday Weekend there were stranded because the airport was flooded, the bridges were washed away and, if you could still get over a rare existing bridge, every road out was blocked due to landslides. They would be stuck until at least Friday unless they had been able to bribe their way (I'm just ASSUMING that) on one of the 49 military flights that went out. There were many crocodiles in the streets. That was just mentioned, in passing, in an article.
Thank God for Costco. Lacking food, water and free electronics, the crazed and stranded vacationers broke into the Zona Diamante branch of Costco "under the watchful eye of the Federal Police, who made no attempt to detain even the more opportunistic looters who made off with electronics piled into their pick-up trucks". Somehow, I hadn't anticipated that sentence going that way after the part about the "watchful eye". But this is Mexico. Or New Orleans.
Michelle, You Really Need to Talk To This Lady
It seems that every First Lady wants to get on the bandwagon of child nutrition. Some more ably than others. The Guadalajara Reporter took on the subject of Jalisco's (our state) First Lady who, this week, was ridiculed for delivering unhealthy Pulparindo candy bars to indigenous children at a soup kitchen in one of the most poverty-stricken villages in Jalisco.
How unhealthy are they? The U.S. Department of Health issued a warning against eating them. Why? "The spicy, tamarind flavored candy was found to contain lead (.12 to.19 parts per million)"-- and we all know what lead does to little brains. Lady Pulparindo, as she is now known, has a steep P.R. hill to climb.
Other News
* We close on our new house on Wednesday (or maybe Friday-- it's a little loose). They still haven't sold the one we're in (HA! evil landlord). We are packing again and Michael is trickier than I thought. He somehow managed to transport a Tee shirt he has owned since he was 12 from Boston to Mexico. If I die first, you'll see him on one of those Hoarder Reality Shows.
* Our Walmart is always giving out free samples of stuff outside the store. This week it was Tequila.
At 10AM. While the cups were small, I still felt it unwise that they were providing it to what looked like 13 year olds. Then again, everyone's starting to look 13 to me.
* Our neighbor came over during the Tempest bearing guacamole and stayed for a few glasses of wine. Unbeknownst to us, an ex-Pro football player had moved in next door. Subsequently, he had an altercation with his girlfriend (sound familiar?) and had a screaming fit and kicked in her door (sound familiar?) and she called the cops. They dragged him off to Mexican jail which is not much of a treat. He somehow annoyed the police (it is alleged the policeman had "taken a shine" to his girlfriend) and he left jail minus two teeth. What IS it about those football players? All the concussions? Were those two teeth real anyway? Those big walls we have come in right handy.
* A few days ago, The New York Times had an article about Mexico. It seems that more people migrated TO Mexico last year than migrated FROM Mexico to the U.S. Time to up your game America. And it's not just from the U.S. I just bought the most amazing baguettes from this couple from Toulouse who left France because the economy was so tough. They had friends who were doing well in Mexico, so they joined them. Go figure. Wendy and David -- I spoke French the whole time but it was a physical exertion. How do people seamlessly move between three languages? eh? (That's Canadian -- am I approaching four)?
So, we're off. Next blog should see Michael standing on his own two feet and own two knees (well, mostly his-- except for that little cadaver part). Thanks to all the local pals who have dropped by, fed and entertained us throughout the recuperation. And thanks to friends and family (especially our boys) from afar who have offered calls of support. You're all champs. More soon.
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| Pictures from last year's Globos Festival showing the danger of fire on the ground... |
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| and in the air... |
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| falling to the ground - - - always keep your head up to watch for falling debris. |
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| The Church in Dolores (Hidalgo) from which Father Hidalgo issued the first grito. |
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| Imagine encountering this on your neighborhood streets. Many did in Acapulco recently! |
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| Meanwhile Michael was forced to amuse himself with views of the birds perched on the reindeer ... |
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| and in the trees visible through our windows, ... |
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| as well as the occasional brilliant sunset while he recovers. |
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