Back from Buenos Aires and Argentina

Back from Buenos Aires and Argentina (about 1 year now!) ] What a year. I cannot believe so much time has gone by and yet...What a full and crazy year. I will have to post some stories and photos of our trip - about 4 months abroad. Yet upon returning I was thrown into a family a crisis and a focus on dealing on my disintegrating left hip, which finally got replaced around Thanksgiving 2011!. I am literally on a new leg this year. Dancing and ENJOYING it again,

Hooray, although I realized how much havoc having arthritis and a degenerating hip caused in my life and relationships. I did get to

travel to Patagonia,

and Iguazu Falls,

Tigre,

Colonia Uruguay,

and around the various dance halls of BA, yet my constant pain made it difficult to fully enjoy. Looking back however I can forget the pain and remember the good. Most of my photos went onto facebook for friends to enjoy. Perhaps I can post links. My daughter Mariel wrote a wonderful blog on her semester abroad there and travels to Ecuador too. Meanwhile she graduated UMASS this May! Oh my. Yes, moving along.

Off to Buenos Aires tomorrow

Tomrrow will be a 'flying' holiday for me. I will be heading out to Buenos Aires, Argentina with Carlos Fontes, who has a Fulbright appointment at the Catholic University there.

My general plan is to connect with my daughter Mariel, relax, heal, learn and dance more Tango, and learn and speak more Spanish. (Trying to work the aging body and brain!). Mariel is a UMass Junior in Commonwealth College and College of Natural Sciences, on the Deans List, and on an API semester abroad program there until June 25th, her 21st birthday!

This is the first time in MANY, many years that I will be away from a home base for more than a month. I am grateful to have wonderful people in and around my home to care for it and enjoy the springtime here, while we head into fall down there.

The basic plan:
Friday: Arrive in Buenos Aires and meet up with my daughter Mariel and do the business of settling in. If we are not too exhausted, Mariel has already invited us to attend a tango event that evening at the Confiteria Ideal, a vintage ballroom.

Saturday, sleep in, and perhaps join my daughter at a monthly Lindy Hop Swing dance event. This is an American dance that has grown in popularity around the world. There is a large community of mostly young dancers in Argentina. I introduced my daughter to this dance when she was 13 and she has shot up to become one of the most advanced and creative dancers on the scene and is able to find community many places world-wide. She has demonstrated and taught vintage social dance moves to the Amherst and UMass community. I have not quite retired to the sidelines, and will get up to boogie and Charleston when the 'spirit moves', albeit usually to the slower, more bluesy music.

A Bollywood Festival Sunday? Apparently there is a large Indian population in BA.

We leave for Patagonia on Tuesday, which is in the Southern part of Argentina. It is windy and wintry there, and we hope to climb glaciers, take in mountain vistas (parts of the Andes), encounter lots of wildlife, perhaps penguins, and visit Tierra del Fuego - the End of the World ( as close as you can get to Antarctica). We also plan to explore the Lake district of Bariloche which is considered to be like Switzerland (It has lots of Germans and European influences).

Patagonia is also known for lamb, beef, beer, and chocolate!

I have long been curious about this part of the world since buying my first Patagonia fleece, although with all the ice and 'roof glaciers we had this winter, you might wonder why we head for more and not someplace tropical :). That will come later.

Between April and May, I will study and explore around Buenos Aires and take mini trips to places like Colonia, Uruguay, Tigre (a delta north of BA), and some ranches - 'Estancias'.

In May we plan to go see Iguazu Falls on the border of Brazil and Paraguay. This spectacular network of 275 falls is depicted in the film 'The Mission, and you can see some images here.

Bottlecaps and Skully

Alongside comics we collected bottle caps. These were carefully, no expertly, pried from the tops of glass soda-pop bottles that we mainly got from vending machines. A bottle cost from a dime to 15 cents in the late 50s to 60s. My father remembered the price was a nickel during the second quarter of the century. We saved our nickels and dimes, both for the purpose of buying soda and for collecting the prized caps. And yes, for ice cream too, bought from the local vendors who came around to the playgrounds in their trucks, Bungalow Bar, Uncle Johns, Mr. Softy and Good Humor, each with their distinctive song or bell to alert us.

The vending machines did not come to us. We sought them out in building basements, candy stores, boat houses, and other places of liesure. Some times the sodas came in packs bought from the local grocery store. Pepsi, Canada Dry Gingerale, and Coke were the most popular. One of my favorite soft drinks was Root beer, so I had quite a few of those.I can't clearly recall the brand as there were several like Frosties, Hires, Draft. There were also Orange and Grape sodas and caps.

These were to be used competively in the game of ‘Skully’, a city street game, played on the concrete pavements of playgrounds where game boards were often chalked temporarily onto the surface in an open area between slides and swings. There was one painted permanently over by the sandbox in our 'Big' Playground.

The 'board' was square, about 3 feet by 3 feet, with 13 smaller square areas marked by numbers spaced around it. Four in the corners, two paired together in the middle of each side and with the number 13 in the center.

Starting at box 1, you 'shot' your cap with the flick of your thumb and index or middle finger, aiming to land within the numbered boxes.

If you landed on the lines you could later just tap your cap in. If you were unlucky you got knocked off course, sometimes way a-ways, by other players. If you landed in the box you got to go again and try for the next number.

The number 13 was surrounded by 4 areas of 'space' . This was 'No-man's Land'. Depending on the rules of the day, if you landed there you either were 'out' , stuck until another player knocked you out, or penalized and had to start over again from 1. Once you made it to 13, you worked your way backwards to 1, and then could move around the 'No Man's Land' in clockwise fashion to become a 'Killer'.The sooner the better.

Once you were a Killer you went after the others to knock them out of the game. It was then that all hell broke loose as players would scatter wide around the playground to escape the aim of a Killer. Tap 3 times and they were out. Besides hitting other caps, sometimes one would bounce off and hit other players.

The game was most fun with 3 or more players, with 6 being a good number to manage. Sometimes we played in teams where part of of the strategy included protecting teammates' caps or going on offense against the others to knock them far off course.. Skill seemed not to depend much on gender. It was more an eye/hand coordination thing, although the aggressive nature of a 'Killer' might have been associated with sex-type or age.

Sometimes we were lucky to have an indoor site, with more slick wooden floors and painted skully boards. Play , rain or shine.

No bloody scrapes from grazing one's fingers against the gravel.

The best caps were 'Smoothies'. These prized possesions were smooth on the top, which became the bottom when turned over and used in play. Hence, the need of 'expert' skill required to obtain these. If the cap was too tight, or stuck on a bottle, it invariably came off bent. Bent ones wobbled along the ground of game courts and were harder to aim straight and shoot. The ones that had padding in them, mostly cork, were heavier and valued for their steadier and more stable trajectories. To enhance our caps we could melt crayon into them to provide both weight and identifying colors. Although you only needed a few for a game, we collected and stored our stashes in shoeboxes wrapped tight with rubber bands. We also would trade, trying to up our count of Smoothies, or balance our brands.

I remember having boxes of 50-100 or more, spending summer-time counting, organizing, and ordering caps by preference, and comparing them to those of my friends. The clinging sound of a box of caps is certainly nostalgic to groups of city kids of the 50 's and 60's generations.

Skully days ended when we went on to middle and high school. Although I read on the internet that the game continued 'round the city well into the 70s. As we aged, we moved off of our knees, and some of us, out of the playground, except for those who played basketball, paddle ball, or did drugs. The girls often landed up on the sidelines, on the benches, watching and rooting for games, smoking, flirting, and learning more adult and somtimes dangerous play.

Le Temps

Le Temps
(1974)

Il ya des moments

quand on est seul
quand le vie est vide de sens
quand on souffre
quand tout semble absurd

et quand on revolte

quand on cherche la liberte.....pour se realiser
quand on agit.....et fait decisions
quand on change.....et cree des novuvelles chose
quand on construit.....une vie d'importance
quand on retrouve des raisons.....pour continuer a vivre

le temps est ici

je pense, je parle, j'ecris

Poem Summer 1980

Rich, the Sun -
Orange Reminder of
Your Vibrant
Colored Hair

Feeling Fine and
Warm in
Much-used
(Sleazy)
Midtown
Park...

Some Black Jazzers at
One End
Provide
Live Rhythms for
My Thoughts...

Music Keeps
My Soul
Blood
Moving
and Lets
My Mind
Flow

Unstuck.

Penny Pitching

Check out my short story on my son's comic collections website:

"Penny Pitching for Comics"

Lar Lubovitch and Dance reminiscence

(photo by Jack Mitchell)


Lar Lubovitch came to UMASS Fine Arts Center on November 2nd. He has always been one of my favorite choreographers, spanning ballet and modern dance. Dance teacher Jim Coleman called him a 'dancers choreographer' - it just feels so good to embody much of his movement.

I encouraged the FAC to bring this often unknown-to-the-general-public 'legend' to UMASS.

Here was my review:

Having studied with Lar over 30 years ago, I was excited to see him and the company once more. Lar has been one of the most versatile choreographers of his generation. The revival of classics North Star and Marimba was a wonderful choice, especially for me. I could recall the movements and viscerally re-experience these pieces (parts of which I had learned) along with the dancers. The music, essence, and flow of the dance did recall an era, but also created a mesmerizing mood for a contemporary audience. The duet was beautifully danced- sweet. However, while the Coltrane piece, ‘My Favorite Things’ was fascinating for it’s reference to the historical development of American theatrical jazz dance – smooth lyrical jazz, with amusing movement ‘quotations’ from legendary choreographers and teachers like Jack Cole and Luigi, it did not capture the raw and energetic essence of Coltrane’s musicians. Lar said this piece was tightly constructed musically, and he wished to capture and convey the structure as well as the beat era spirit, yet it would have been wonderful, and perhaps had more impact, to have the dancers break loose either in improvisational sections or within the choreography with more of an earthy Afro-American and vernacular jazz vocabulary and ‘attitude’. The piece, except for one duet, came aross as cute and tame, rather than ‘hot’ and kick-ass powerful and complex like Coltrane. Having seen other works of Lar, I know he can capture and convey power and energy. Lar said he chose these pieces for continuity, and some of the audience enjoyed the consistency and were carried along with the flow from start to finish. Yet Lar’s range of repertoire includes many dramatic and varied pieces. I wished he had included some for a change of perspective and style. I think the FAC audience would welcome this company back with a more varied program of works; different stylistic focus, dramatic themes, costuming, and energy. All in all, thank you FAC for reaching out to bring us great dance, and please continue to do so!

Here are also links on dance (Lar and history) that might be of interest: Feel free to share:

Great overview and timeline of Jazz Dance Development and personalities:

My daughter Mariel and I move within the framework of Lindy with heritage from George Snowdon and Whiteys' Lindy Hoppers to contemporary dance. I studied with Luigi teachers, Matt Mattox, Lynn Simonson, and at the Ailey school- with Nat Horne, Pepsi Bethel, and (they don't mention Thelma Hill) I worked briefly with Bill T Jones, and other modern 'fusionists' like Jennifer Muller and Louis Falco,and was influenced by Twyla. I studied with students/dancers of others like Jo Jo Smith, Phil Black, Gus Giordano, Donny McKayle and took in their styles in various choreogaphy. We have all watched and absorbed Gene Kelly and Astaire into our movement memories.

Mari studied with former members of Twyla Tharp, and Daniel Nagrin

Some other links of interest- Biography:

A conversation with Peggy Baker (My contemporary) talking very clearly and full of knowledge of Lar's work: <

I loved Lar's works Whirligogs and Time Before the Time After, Les Noces, Girl on Fire , and the Day of Dead piece set on the Limon Company.
(photo by Rosalie O'Connor)

Life's Commandments?

Hey- this was dated Feb 2010. A long post- HANG IN

Well,
It has been a tough few weeks. Tougher for my mother, almost 90, who has been in and out of the emergency room and hospital for the past 3 weeks. Tough for my father who is the same age and who in spite of their incessant 'arguing' and disagreements about large and minor things, loves and wants to care for her. Tough for my sister who has stayed in the Bronx with them to manage and oversee their care and coordinate with doctors, look into home care and rehab, keep my father steady, keep the family networked and everyone informed, and play interference at times. She has also had to try to support her husband who is playing single parent to a 12 year old and autistic 19 year old back in California,while managing a job that requires his leadership, and a home. It has been good that she loves to talk on the phone, as she did as a child, mimicking my mother's authoritative voice. Tough for me too, to feel on the outside of the loop, being concerned and trying to focus on work and my home while wanting to be there, yet also dealing with my own illnesses, the ugly head of depression and anxiety having risen up again and more intensively these past months. Confusion and frustration over my present and uncertainty as to what kind of future commitments to make have thrown me into a tizzy, yet must be tabled right now. I have to ease off on my seriousness around finding/creating meaning and purpose in midlife, the desire to establish a more powerful and satisfying 'career' and work direction, and focus on basics - eating, self care, a bit of rest, a bit of friendship and companionship, a bit of dancing-tango and facing some fears and patterns of the past.

And then there is Haiti too....earthquakes and devastation on a grand but distant scale. Phew-

That said- as the Life Commandments email comes through from my friend:

"This email is from my friend's sister. Little did she know that she would be burying Ashley, her 21-year old daughter, in a few days, as the result of an automobile accident on 10/22/09. Bill is on his way to Philly to be with his sister. It's only been a couple of years since her husband died unexpectedly. If you think you shouldn't live life to its fullest EVERY SINGLE DAY, remember this and every other tragedy like it."

Barry

It sounded like one of those millions of email blasts about someones fate and distress meant to prod (or guilt) us into feeling good!

The challenge is every day seems to be filled with stuff that makes it difficult to feel like one is living fully - and of course, much of it is in our minds, both thoughts and the biochemical nature of them.

That said: Here goes: This was sent and I have added my comments:
Written by Regina Brett, 90 years old, of The Plain Dealer,Cleveland, Ohio

NOTE-actually Regina is 53 or so. Midlife

To celebrate growing older, I once wrote the 45 lessons life taught me. It is the most-requested column I've ever written.

1. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.

Mostly....Some of this is perspective, and some is perception/experience. When I am vomiting and in pain, it feels neither fair nor good for instance! I am sure when my mom was experiencing 2 kidney stones stuck at the urethra, a urinary tract infection, and painful swelling and infections in her legs, she also could not access much of the 'good' . But boy did she try and we tried to help distract her

2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.

This has been advice my mother (and others) have given often. It does seem to work as a good direction. Sometimes we need assistance to take that very small step, like a baby. I recall the home movies of me taking my first steps. A few fingers can help. As we get older we may need to ask for that help, or remember that early determination to get up and try again.

3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.

Yes, Yes, Yes.. Yet is is human to get angry at those who may thwart us, or even worse - do us deliberate harm. It is probably true that it is best not to be consumed or focused on the hate. Better to use the anger towards some positive action. And yes loving IS so much better, but if a person is bent on doing one harm, best avoid that person, stop him or her, and find someone else to share love with

4. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and parents will. Stay in touch.

Well yes. We KNOW this to be usually true, I certainly experienced this. Unless we have very disfunctional and heartless families, or have chosen badly in terms of friends, or find ourselves isolated and far, or we are very fortunate to work with some very compassionate people and organizations. (And this was not my experience in my office for quite a while as some knew. Developing and maintaining a positive network is important, and requires energy and time. Sometimes it is so sad that our ties are stretched over such long distances. It takes a community....... And sometimes we must call on faith (that GOD or higher power or spirit thing within and without) to help sustain us through intense pain or strife. For some of us that trust and faith is hard to access

5. Pay off your credit cards every month.

Yeh- of course. It is what I tell my kids. A good idea. Who needs to build more interest and debt? That is good mainly for the companies that get rich off of it. Best to live within means, barter, trade, not buy? Yet our consumer and capitalist society tells us otherwise, and we see debt rampant around the world and used to keep the corporate control and benefit the few real wealthy and powerful. Yet here is where moderation and friends and family can help, as well as skills, creativity, and a good job and economy. But in the face of a declining one...well there maybe little choice

6. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.

A yes, and a challenge for many of us to remember and honor! When to persist and when to back off can be a tricky process. In my family, more backing off, or slowing down, listening, accepting would probably be good- no? Perhaps this crisis of my parent's health and aging is calling all of us to work on and grow more skilled here. If we put maintaining love and good feelings first-over achievement or objectives, that could help. Working on it, letting my sister take charge. Saying one's piece and letting go

7. Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.

Well, for women,this is more often true. Men may prefer solo at times. 'Go cry it on a mountain' can also be good advice and a cathartic experience. Tears can cleanse. Hey, there are studies about this! I myself often feel the safety of letting go in someone's strong embrace.

8. It's OK to get angry with God. He can take it.

Oh- maybe 'SHE'? Yeah and it is probably safer, unless HE/SHE throws down lightning bolts! Then again, GOD may seem silent and at the moment unable to provide a good distraction, except maybe lightning bolts. Mother Nature may do a good job with a spectacular sunset or squirrels chasing tails round a tree.

9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.

Great Idea, if one can make rent, food and then some. Saving some for rainy days -- car breakdowns, vacations and 'retirement' can't be bad. Can it? Yet there is also the saying "You can't take it with you" Balance . Yet for my kids, Ian?, I'd say - save SOME- always. Interest compounds. Alhtough the market confounds and certainly now has deflated!

10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.

Who would want to resist? Dark chocolate is good for one's health.

11. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.

And how many years might that take. Counselors, pastors, and analysts can stay busy and employed. One probably already has screwed up plenty- I know. But yes, yes, make peace. And may my daughter make a living if she becomes a psychotherapist!

12. It's OK to let your children see you cry.

Too late on that one. They have seen it aplenty. Yet how much? Good for them to see one happy and loving too.

13. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all
about.

Yes, not good to compare to feel worse, yet maybe good to know so we can learn from each other? Be close to each other? Why don't we know the journeys of those who are close? Because mostly we don't share the nitty gritty- just the bullet or bragging points. We read the best sellers and books of other lives or fantasy/fictional lives, and rarely find fascination with those right around us, because either we don't ask, they don't tell, we don't make or have the time, or they don't tell a good story.

14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it.

Ah- but it can be so exciting. And sometimes the society around one just can't handle it. Remember inter-racial relationships, gay lovers, an older woman and younger man, were taboo and those engaged were treated badly. Oh yes better to be able to proclaim without shame. Of course.

15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't worry; God never blinks.

You sure? Things are constantly changing and we certainky do blink and can be blind to the changes around us. When we sleep the world shifts and perhaps dissappears for a while. What changes must each of us stay aware of, go with, direct? climate change? A wave of neo-fascism?

16. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.

Om. Alternate nostril breathing. Yoga nidra, meditation. More on this later. Meds calm the mind too, touch, exercise, and sometimes a stiff drink.

17. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.

Ourselves as we age, when we are sick? Yes, yes. I have been bogged down in trying to get rid of stuff not needed.What about people that are not joyful, depressed? Do we dump them or work to help them? Find the beuaty in it? Transformation.

18. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.

Yeah? maybe so, maybe it leaves one very depleted, and maybe it is only temporarily that one feels stronger, or remains alive. It might also make some folks bitter and ready for revenge. Healing and recovery can bring out and reveal strengths one did not have before.

19. It's never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.

OR Alzheimers!?

20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.

Yeah, and what if that NO comes with a shove and a black eye? Ok, we know what this is supposed to mean. My cousin tells a romantic story about how he asked his future wife to break a date for him. Glad she did all those years later.

21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets and wear the fancy lingerie. Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special.

Especially if we are dancing tango and someone get's to see the lingerie or lie in the sheets. OH, remember not to let the candle flames catch on the pillows or the sheets or burn the night table! Maintain some presence of mind.

22. Over prepare and then go with the flow.

Great advice for teaching Yoga, traveling, or anything. Only my boyfriend doesn't sometimes like to prepare or plan. Then I find it challenging to go with the flow. The flow becomes planning and preparing and eats up the present. Sometimes my present is just so full of things to deal with it is hard for me to make time to plan or follow through. I know you all have been here.

ANYWAY - HALF WAY THROUGH- HANG IN

Do we dare continue?

23. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.

Is wearing purple eccentric? In the 70's There was a couple who used to roam aroung NYC, always in purple. They were known as the 'Purple People' and tended organic city gardens. They mostly rode bikes or walked. Out of the hippie generation. Early environmentalists? They were NOT 'Purple People Eaters'. What about fuchsia?

24 No one is in charge of your happiness but you.

Why is my boyfriend always trying to make me happy? I told him it was not his job. And that said a big hug, a massage, an amazingly connected, masterfully executed dance, a dinner out, an astounding piece of music, a startling sunset or spectacular view, good health, npo pain, a lot of sleep (and money?) can certainly help. My father used to joke, "Rich or Poor it is good to have money". And of course we knwo "Money can't buy happiness' but it doesn't hurt either. It certainly can buy favors and health care. OH yes, we can sit in bliss, meditating on a mountain top, and live in denial or determination to be happy in spite of horrific conditions in a concentration camp. Sometimes the spirit is broken.

25 Frame every so-called disaster with these words ''In five years, will this matter?".

How many years has it been since Katrina? 911? And are we talking about the news stations or media's latest focus, or real lives of real people effected by some major disastrous events. Oh yes, my fingernail being bashed is NOT a disaster. True. Nor the scratch on the pimple on my daughter's face. Yes, a good question to ask oneself. In fact in 1 million years will much of this matter? Will we EXIST? So now what?

26. Always choose life.

And Why? and what if I don't get a choice? There is the corollary. Accept Death. And of course Accept Life. What about choosing life and quality of life for self or others?

27. Forgive everyone everything.

Really? Hitler? Stalin? Osama bin Laden? Sadam Huseein? George Bush? Well certainly there are things we can't changee- so acceptance is key, and understanding could lead to forgiveness. But should one forget? Excuse? Stay silent or speak up? Is one supposed to forgive an ex for focusing on his own desires, sexual and power needs, when the mother of his children was in the hospital after a breakdown? While she was having severe reactions to medication that she was trying to withstand for weeks and months without much support or care, experiencing major side effects and pure exhaustion, her ex-husband chose to take off anyway to meet a new woman (sight unseen) to bring back into his bed and home, and left his children, upset and worried, in the care of the mother's friend.....

Of course, better to forgive, the children did, but really hard to do. And hard to forget while he continued to belittle and financially contributed less and less while attempting to alienate her from the children with the help of that woman. Ah yes, breathe and let go.

28. What other people think of you is none of your business.

No, but it certainly can effect one's business or status, or life. Especially if they have the power to determine one's well being, wheer you live, what you do for work, how you are compensated, and your life or death. Yes,could you tell that to the wives of Henry the 8th and have had them believe you or value that statement?

Tell that to a kid who is bullied incessantly. Best if he/she doesn't buy into the taunting, but what if the taunts lead to torture? What about the Jews on Kristallnacht. Let's not get too pat with these sayings. PULEASE.

29. Time heals almost everything.. Give time, time.

Almost is the key word here. Good to have perspective. Good that time is relative. And "Time marches on"---and we do too, to our graves? Good sometimes that our memory fades, especially of pain....

30. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.

yes. And better if it is toward the good, no?

31. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.

UH- sometimes my siblings and parents, and coworkers, and empoyers, and friends, and even my cat does. Worse when I do, of course. So make me laugh? Help me to see the humor? Walk, talk silly around me? I do love Robin Willliams.....

32. Believe in miracles.

Walking on water? War will end? We will have endless peace and prosperity for all. We will live in harmony. Why not? better to hope. Better than Dorothy "I do believe in Ghosts". Positively affirm and pray... and yet - do not expect.

If a person survives his/her cancer treatment- a miracle. If not? accept life- accept death. Ah yes, Annie sings "Tomorrow, Tomorrow". " and "With a little bit o' luck" There will be another musical.

33. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or
didn't do.

That is a good thing I suppose....But doesn't he/she, like Santa, know if I'be been naughty or nice? He/she loves naughty as well as nice? Hitler too. Must have. Let him rampage for a long long time. This is supposed to make us feel good and safe? What about the God that will destroy the 'evil doers'? It almost could seem like God doesn't care.....Anyway, nice to wrap onself in the feelings of love and light.

34. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.

35. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.

Although some might argue, it depends on how well one lived life, and how one valued or did not value it, or was valued? Hey my folks are heading toward 91. Let's ask them. I do think they would agree, as long as one is not in continuous pain.

36. Your children get only one childhood.

And it lasts forever relative to mine? Hey- me too, I just got one. And the men in my life too. Only how come they still think theirs are continuing? And shouldn't we keep growing, even when shrinking? When does childhood end- really? What are we supposed to do with that? Feel guilty if we messed it up with our one chance at parenting? What about re-incarnation?

37. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.

Whom? to whom? How much? How often? once enough? Truly loved? my cat? Loved and did litle about it

?

38. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.

And mice and bugs, and leaves right now (fall). Yeah- outside is great. So why am I on teh compputer reading and responding to allthese virtual messages!?

39. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.

UH- maybe, maybe not. We might trade a few. Or quite a few. What's in YOUR bag?

40. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.

Or maybe you do not have what you need (or think you need or want). But certainly envying won't help get more of what you need or want. Certainly seems like a human thing though and could prod one to action, or acceptance.

41. The best is yet to come.

I certainly hope so. How does one know? Pretend is good. Foregtting the past might help. Yet if this is the case, how come so many older folk reminisce? Best---best of waht? Pretty broad arena. Best of depends (Depends??? those diaper thingies?)

42. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.

Where we going? Hey- won't you come visit? Steve Post, from WBAI, used to talk of bed people. I once visited my Uncle Bernie. He was hanging at home in bed with several of his friends. They were mostly dressed, just under the covers. Staying cozy and warm and commiserating. I thought it wierd at that time, but fully understand now this retreat from his usually busy life, filled with many artificial people/friends/colleagues in the fashion world, always on the go. The man needed a rest. I just did not know how to connect. There was no room for me then. (They were all quite big, overweight) My Uncle Bernie, was called the 'Big O' for a reason. 'Ozer'- not what you think! My folks, especially my Mother, was usually 'Up and at 'em', the 'Rise and Shine' Lady. Exhausting. it was hard to find peace with her. And ironically some of the more memorable moments were when she lay down for a nap, listening to Opera, reading a book, a break from the show. One could then lie down and relax with her, head on her bosom. Breathe. Be present! show up. Not just dress up.

43. Yield.

Yes. Yield and find support. Support preceeds action. Yoga principles. and if you don't yield you might get hit by oncoming trafic, no?

44. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift.

ok.

Number 45?

Turning - mid 50s BIrthday soon

Approaching my birthday on October 17 and realizing that mid-50 I am still on a path to defining and redefinign myself. The past year has been rocky one filled with hopes, anxieties, uncertainties, paralleling what many are experiencing with the uncertain economy, changing political scenario and up and down markets. My daughter transitioned to college, only not quite, as we were held in the dark as to her father's financial commitment to her continuing education, and I became more unwilling, and perhaps unable, to support her alone or support her to continue at the first college of her choice, with substantial debt.

Thinking this 'empty nest' time was the time to redirect self, revisit atualizing dreams, write? , I found myself still dealing with ongoing family and work issues that were unresolved. On top of it, the uncertain, or unclear commitment of my daughter to a direction heightened my own. Of course at 18/19 - this uncertainty is not unusual. At 55? Well perhaps not so unusual again as many women are seeming to take new turns in their work, family, and living situations. Some have been forced to.

But back to the intitial reason for the post- I was provoked by this question posed by Kathy Caprino of Ellia Communications in her blog post "Being Real in Times of Turmoil" What do you do each day to “keep the faith” and keep it real in your life and work?

This is a good question to ask oneself, and in doing that one comes back to basics I suppose. We can discover what is most important for ourselves. I find often I must come back to something concrete and simple to take care and renew myself.

This is what I wrote: I look for backup and perspective from friends and wise sources. A movie, a book. Regroup. For me that may involve movement, meditation, and touch - a walk to notice the sky and nature, and sleep. Bottomline a mixture of connection, conversation, and self-nurturance. Being able to help another almost always helps oneself. Remembering that work is only that- not all of oneself, is very important. Open oneself to guidance and cultivate acceptance - no real magic.

Reflecting on- there is some magic in it when it works. There are times, seeking that, that I have failed to feel renewed, where the body/mind was so depleted and the stress so persistent. Yet allowing for guidance and persisting in being open to be healed is very powerful. And opening, asking for help, can allow almost anyone, anything to give. And then at times the giving of one's gifts, whatever they might be may be essential, whether recognized or not.

It is interesting that I am reminded of this after having offered a massage/shiatsu/rehabilitative ssssion to a masssage therapist friend/mother. She needed the attention and skilled sensitive touch I have been blessed with, and feel a need to develop, explore, and offer more of. And in the exchange I too was supported and guided in trusting myself, spurred on to have and experience 'faith' in myself, in the moment and the possibilities of 'more' in the future.

And here I am writing again after quite a lull. TB cont'd....

Love: a Matter of Chemistry?

Well . Just read this header and article in AARP magazine. Now really, is this news? Of course there is chemistry involved, But what is interesting and a bit scary is the question asked within, and idea posed, of developing a drug that would cause attachment and bonding feelings to make people have the impulse and desire to move closer to each other". I think of Puck in Midsummer Night's Dream mistakenly applying the elixir to mismatched couples, forcing the romantic attachment of the fairy queen Tatiana to Bottom - the fool, the donkey.

What dangers do we invite by meddling further with nature? Already anti-perspirants maske our natural smells and pheromones which can aid in attraction. These chemicals also help us unconsicously stay away from genetic pools that are too similar to our own. Masking smell could lead us to romantic or sexual partnering with a person whose gene pool would not be best to mate with. And now we add oxytocin or other chemicals in pill form that may overide nature's long developed wisdom? Yes,to encourage bonding can be good, very good, especially for fathers and mothers to their babies and children and each other.

Yet touch has been proven to be effective in encouraging that. Check out the research that has been done, and Ashley Montague's book on Touching. We certainly can use more consensual, skilled, loving touch in this world.

We need to teach people to be mindful of the choices they make for romantic and sexual partner. Teach folks to tune into and respect their senses, but also to use their intuition and mind to interpret the appropriateness, and safety, of pairing up. We don't need to overide the power of body/mind, by use of synthetic aids.
We also do indeed need to look at what 'love' is and encourage the development of love in a broader sense than just attraction.

Boy- what a mickey it would be if some 'bad boy' slipped one into an unwitting woman's drink and then what more devastation would ensue than already does by having the heartless one leave. And in fact, what if the scene was twisted the other way and some woman tried to ensnare her potential lover into attachment? Would she indeed need to keep him bewitched with drugs, the modern embodiment of a wicked witch? Buyer beware.

Tango moment captured

Well, finally it happened. Adora captured a fun neuvo-tango moment of mine. Follow this link to Facebook.

We were at a tango-pulse milonga in the Lenox area. Adora and Carey, are the young gals singing, love this. Somehow Adora captured some dancing too. Ogion (29) and I always seem to connect to the livelier atypical nuevo-tango tunes. A bit bouncy and loose, but fun. I obviously had caught a heel in my stocking which resulted in a small tear, but who cares. I love this dress. Jackie and Victor dancing quite a bit smoother and elegant. She is more steady in heels. Not bad for 55 year old ladies, eh?

a fine time

Recent tango photos - March Hair

The passing of a Legend - Frankie Manning April 27, 2009

My daughter Mari just called with the news about the death of Frankie Manning, almost 95. I was just about to call her! There was some connection wanting to happen.

While so sad and moved ( I burst out in tears), we both realized that although we will miss Frankie, we felt blessed to have danced, taught, and shared stories with him, along with being inspired and spreading the joy of this dance with him.




Mariel wondered what Frankie might have wished to say that he could not in his last moments, but then we also realized that Frankie had already said what he needed to, contributed what he needed to, and his legacy will live on. What an amazing thing, what an amazing man.



I shared more here on this blog where stories and photos are being collected describing Frankie's effect on our lives.

And here is some information, photos, videos from the assembly we hosted with Frankie at Amherst Regional High in May 2006.

We will miss you Frankie!



PS. Those interested to know more can just Google or go to the Yehoodi site that unites siwng dancers from around the world. News and memories are being gathered there.

I Was a Little Chicken?

From the book Letters to Fathers from Daughters

Background on the book and piece is here

Dear Dad,

I was a little chicken. Confused. That was the image you got after the doctor rushed out of the elevator, held out his fist, and said, “That's how big she is.”

You were thrilled to have either a boy or girl after a long awaited birth. Since I was premature, you were most worried about whether I was healthy.

Finally you asked the doctor, "But how is she?" And he said, “She’s fine, but very tiny.” You ran to peek through the window of the nursery where they had placed me, all 4 pounds 9 ounces, bundled in a ‘warmer’.

My first memory is of you staring down at me from behind a window that seemed quite high up on my left. Your face is contorted with concern. I cannot move, cannot reach out to comfort you, nor comfort myself. I am distressed, and the distress is amplified by the sound of other babies crying while a nurse walks by, unaware of the significance of this moment and of the distance I perceive.

You told the story many times of the stupid doctor who had no sensitivity to understand your primal need to know that your child was healthy. And many times I recalled this memory.

Throughout my life, when you were worried for my welfare, this frustration, anger—perhaps disappointment—would get mixed in with your anxiety. It was conveyed to me, and I viscerally felt your fear. And it unsettled me, as well as you.

You felt I was fighting against you, rejecting you when, as I got older, I fought back against the fear. I tried to protect myself from the negativity of your emotions and assert myself with hope and optimism. I was only pushing against the limitations you set for me. I felt—intensely—the restrictions on my movement and growth, and tried to release myself from your protective bind.

In many ways, you gave support and encouragement as I grew. You threw me balls, guided me on my bike, and joined me in 3-legged races. You watched each and every dance concert I performed in, proud and admiring my agility. You drove me to and from classes in New York, and supported my studies one summer in France, and then in Canada.

Yet you worried—and at times, when I felt I was ready to fly, I also felt you held me back. You would not allow me to take a year off after high school to pursue my dream of being a professional ballerina, but flew me off to a school in Indiana, far from the streets of NY.

What was in your mind and heart? Was it just an automatic resurgence of that first fear for my safety? More than once, I experienced what I perceived were attempts to control me, even as a young adult. In the late 70s, at age 25, when I informed you I was going to San Francisco, you reacted with rage and disbelief as if I was Columbus setting sail for the edge of the earth. I was scared I’d provoke a heart-attack. My body and voice strained against your maneuvers, as they did in that baby warmer.

I wished to reach you, reach through to you, and assure you I’d be ok—I was ok. I wanted you to encourage my separation, so I could develop and reach out to touch you with a strong sense of myself. I wanted you to see and move through your fear to allow my growth. I wanted. . . What did you want? Will I ever truly understand your motivation? Perhaps not.

And so, I reconstruct my first memory. I see you relaxed, happy, and smiling, excited for this healthy newborn, so rosy and robust, even if tiny. The chorus of cries does not overwhelm the emotion of joy that radiates between us, the warmth that penetrates and melts the glass. I imagine your hand reaching out to mine and my little fingers able to unfurl and grasp yours. I give a squeeze and after letting go, we know I am full of strength. And both reassured, we are able to move on.

Your Daughter,
Alison




















“To live fully is to let go and die with each passing moment, and to be reborn in each new one.”
Jack Kornfield

Dance as union of the elements

“With the creation of the universe, the dance too came into being, which signifies the union of the elements. The round dance of the stars, the constellation of planets in relation to the fixed stars, the beautiful order and harmony in all its movements, is a mirror of the original dance at the time of creation.”

Lucian of Samosata (~125 to 180 A.D.), On Dance (De Saltatione)

The Dance

While cleaning out papers, a process that seems endless as I accrue more each day, I found the poem that follows.

The morn of New Year's eve brought a storm that would leave 6-8 inches and bring high winds later in the day. I had spent a great deal of the so-called winter 'vacation', leading up to the turn of the year, sick, reflecting on my life, and facing the 'woods of my own nature'. The snow was accumulating fast. Still not feeling well, I took the day off and continued to rest, reflect, sort, clean, and reorganize my life.

Anyway,I found this poem among information and coursework on massage. (another body of knowledge I had developed and then suspended my work in)

The Dance

When the snow falls the flakes
spin upon the long axis
that concerns them most intimately
two and two to make a dance

the mind dances with itself,
taking you by the hand,
your lover follows
there are always two,

your self and the other,
the point of your show setting the pace,
if you break away and run
the dance is over

Breathlessly you will take
another partner
better or worse who will keep
at your side, at your stops

whirls and glides until he too
leaves off
on his way down as if
there were another direction

gayer, more carefree
spinning face to face but always down
with each other secure
only in each other's arms

But only the dance is sure!
make it your own.
Who can tell
what is to come of it?

in the woods of your
own nature whatever
twig interposes, and bare twigs
have an actuality of their own

this flurry of the storm
that holds us,
plays with us and discards us
dancing, dancing as may be credible.

William Carlos Williams

The images and words that stand out to me:

Dancing two and two

Mind dancing with itself

There are always two?

My mind is often dancing by itself, and then I feel there is one-me, and everyone else - out there.

Secure only in each other's arms

Only the dance is sure

Breathlessly you will take
another partner better or worse who will keep
at your side, at your stops

When dancing, especially tango, I can focus on the moment with intent. I can feel sure, immediate. Usually with any physical activity that engages the mind, and heart as well, there is more clarity, immediacy,and satisfaction. Sharing those moments with a partner is blissful, comforting and feels meaningful. Touching, breathing, moving together - there is the joy. And the awareness in the still points, 'the stops', of these shared pleasures, improvisational movement games, is exquisite.

When the mind is only dancing with itself there can be a split - confusion and loneliness seep in.

Dancing as may be credible

What does this mean?
Comments?

2008 Year End Reflections

Best – light and blessings:
Happy Happy Joy Joy
News from Alison, Ian and Mariel
Prompted by the year end family summaries of several friends, I will attempt my first-time ever family newsletter. This one, admittedly, has not been reviewed, edited, or contributed to by my children. Hey kids, please pardon me.

Yes this holiday time is supposed to be a time of reflection and appreciation. (And of course being Jewish, I had some time for that during Rosh Hashanah- the Jewish New Year in September, along with repentance and asking for forgiveness.)

Yet there is room for more. So I will share some reflections and appreciations without the repentance piece… although I will happily accept any forgiveness for any distress I may have caused over the year, and let my sins be whitewashed away by new fallen snow.

OK
2009 began with an intense focus on performance and completion of college applications and financial aid forms for Mariel. There was the Amherst Regional High Cabaret, and rehearsals for the March musical AIDA, where Mariel played a leading role. There also were rehearsals for the March Amherst Ballet production at UMASS Bowker hall.

Mariel was featured in a modern piece, and got to put out her pizzazz and demonstrate her social dance skills in a Latin/salsa number. Mom got to finally realize a choreographic idea that was germinated about 30 years earlier - a modern dance piece based on the Five Element Theory. It evolved through collaboration with a musician, John Cooper, and her boyfriend Carlos who developed a video collage of relevant images as a prelude. I worked both from improvisation and set movement sequences with five talented young dancers from Amherst Ballet and the piece opened the spring repertoire performances.

Meanwhile Ian was hard at work at Savannah College of Art and Design doing photography and also expanding his knowledge and experience of art history, design, performance installations, and blogging.

He also continued to submit to various magazines and win recognition and awards such as

2008 - Adobe Design Achievement Awards, Digital Photography
2008 - Four Honorable Mentions, Fine Art Portrait Series, Px3 Awards, Paris
2008 - Myshot 08, 3rd Place Greeting Card, Honorable Mention Calendar Design
2008 - CMYK Magazine Contest 40
2008 - Finalist, Best of College Photography

In the summer he attended The Adobe Design Achievement Award Ceremony in NYC as one of 3 finalists, and also worked on some book project such as his Israel by Land- with photos taken from his Summer 2007 Birthright trip.


Besides that he established a home residence with Beth and other housemates in Savannah near Forsythe Park and entered his senior year at SCAD. Oh My. Ian also managed some more scholarship aid, and pledged to try to establish more work to pay for his ongoing projects. He continued to be active through the fall with blogging and following and commenting on the Presidential election. YEAH Obama- change and hope!?

Meanwhile Mariel made her decision to attend Ithaca College in the Exploratory Program with a strong focus and interest in Psychology and Media. She received a scholarship and some substantial grant and loan aid. Marie had hoped to enter Park School of Communications, and may yet, as in her final year at ARHS she was also active taking and assisting in video production classes, and demonstrated a talent for video/film direction and editing. She also produced a documentary of and for Amherst Ballet.

In the summer Mariel prepared for her big transition while Mom escaped for a bit to Guatemala and Belize with Carlos. Reflections on that experience and photos can be read/seen here.

The truth was, that after such a busy and intense year (years), Mom was ready for rest. (years of it?) And the ‘vacation’ wasn't really all that restful. With a bit of anxiety around the upcoming major transition on the home front, and with the trying to absorb and take in the cultural differences, the trip was bit challenging. Also returning to the reality and economic upheavals of the fall have left Mom, me, with many emotions and issues to deal with.

So while Ian and Mariel continue to forge on with their lives away from home, I am facing, like many of us, the empty nest, and also emptier pocket to deal with it all. And while opportunities should truly be opening to consider the new use of my time, somehow I have found it very full just with work, an ongoing relationship, home, car, and health issues, (and yes some worry).

Of course I have been grateful for the companionship and ability to work out at the gym some, do yoga, and even dance here and there and. have been looking forward to more time to Tango- and salsa. I have been grateful for the spiritual guidance from Carlos, friends, colleagues, classes, books, and films. The stories shared and told do provide solace and some wisdom to draw upon on dark days.

I am also grateful that my folks, Ruth and Abe, are still hanging in at 89, although enjoying a bit more limited range of movement, and are mostly centered around their apartment in the Bronx. And I was grateful to see my sister-Steph and nephew-Gabe there this fall, along with my Aunt and Uncle, when we visited in their home. Before that we were blessed with a visit from the whole family, along with Carlos’s, at Mariel’s graduation. (Even Ian and Beth surprised us by secretly showing up for this June event)

And now I have been blessed with a holiday - in time for Hanukkah, visit from Ian and Mariel. Mariel made it back from Ithaca to enjoy a Puerto Rican Paranda celebration at a friend’s house where electricity was finally restored after almost weeklong power outage from ice storms. And I was truly impressed that Ian managed to drive over 10 hours to Pittsburgh with Beth, then fly the next day via Detroit to Bradley airport, 6 or so more hours, and then have his dad Rich fortunately pick him up and drive through snow and ice back to Amherst (5-6 hours of his time too) to make it in time for a Hanukkah dinner on Sunday….and dental appointments this week! Phew. Mom has truly forgotten what it is like to have the time and energy and willingness to travel for that length of time to be with family (or make medical appointments).

Of course then he and Mariel proceeded to be super-tired, sick, and need lots of sleep. And now I too have succumbed to a cold. Ah well. Such is holiday season. I think Santa will bypass our home and let me sleep in tomorrow!

Anyway here we are- not sure about everyone’s New Years resolutions, but know we are still working on resolving family relationships, and hoping for better times for us, our friends, our country, and the world.

Mom has hopes around writing more, in fact has joined a women’s writing group around midlife issues (while feeling at times already fast approaching the ‘elder’ category. We will discover whether Mariel wants to, and we can afford for her, to stay at Ithaca College (and perhaps what she will major in). We will cheer Ian on through his last quarters at SCAD and look forward to attending and enjoying his graduation. We will hope for good health for the grandparents and all those who are suffering. and hopefully we will continue to dance- for as Snoopy would say ’To Dance is to Live’ , Yet whether or not we (or you) dance - let’s live and let live.

Alison (Mom ) and Ian and Mariel.

Guatemala and Belize - Out of the comfort zone

This past summer I went on a vacation with Carlos. The timing was challenging as my daughter Mariel was preparing for college, I had little vacation time accumulated and would be using most of it up, and I was also emotionally in transition - soon to be an empty nester. This last year had been intense, full of creative projects, Mariel's senior year efforts, and a new relationship. I was not getting much communication, support, or payments from my ex towards caring for Mariel this summer and was uncertain about college. I did need and want a break and a chance to connect with Carlos and get some perspective. Yet this trip was to take me far out of my comfort zone, although providing much stimulation and rich experiences.

I shared some impressions with friends, but it has taken a while to put together and upoad the photographs to share (albums 1, 2, 3). Enjoy.


On July 11 we arrived in Guatemala City in the evening. This began a whirlwind of activity, sights, smells, and emotions. We had to catch a van to Antigua and were lucky enough to pick up a father and son traveling together and share the cost.

(Already prices prove to fluctuate with the necessity to negotiate everything). We managed to get settled quickly into a room with a view of one of the volcanoes surrounding Antigua and headed out for dinner and dancing to the music of a Cuban Salsa band. The place was very welcoming, had a community spirit, and the music was good. There was a party of young folk and several older couples, and one older woman shaking it with her half-her-age dance partner. Free and easy. I had really thought we'd be too exhausted to enjoy it, but enjoy (and dance) we did. The exhaustion hit the next day.

Saturday we had to figure out how to get to Panajachel about 2 1/2 hours away and had the choice of numerous tourist agencies arranging collectivos (mini-vans) It was overwhelming trying to decide between all the choices and fluctuating prices. Arranging to leave later in the day, we left our luggage and walked around the town trying to take it all in.

There really was SOOOO much to see and I immediately began to wish we had another day. There was certainly no time to take in a hike up an active volcano.

Antigua is a colonial city, and one sees similar architecture to Mexican, Argentinean and other Latin American cities that were influenced by the Spanish. It is very colorful and run down, with lots of ruins of old cathedrals and buildings. However there was some modern renovation and a lively restaurant and night life scene. One old convent, Casa Santo de Domingo has been turned into quite an upscale hotel and museum with lush gardens and patios to stroll around.

(Since its genesis, Casa Santo Domingo was the bastion of one of the most grand convents of America: the one that sheltered the followers of the order of Santo Domingo de Guzmán.)


The faces we see are mostly Mayan besides the tons of internationals wandering around.(Indians (60% of G's population) still wear their traditional dress, the huipil (a poncho-shaped blouse, very colorful, with embroidery) and corta (a sarong, only slightly less colorful). The colors and patterns identify the tribe (ethnic group) of the wearer- or locale.)

There are numerous language schools in and around Antigua, where folks spend 2 weeks to a month living with families and a few other students, They are fed 3 meals a day, and then study Spanish for around 4 hours a day. There were young students, older (post 55-60) women, and families who participated. They traveled on weekends. I began to feel that this was a great option as I had to depend on Carlos to translate or speak for us, and became frustrated quickly with the language and culture gap. I could understand some but the wall was up when I tried to think and communicate, especially in the markets where negotiation was fierce and fast. French still flowed more readily for me, and I was glad to meet up with some internationals who spoke it.


We found some schools of dance, especially salsa, probably mostly geared to training the internationals. In one section of town there was a huge market, a fair and parade, and a collection of chicken buses coming and going (old school busses painted decoratively in lively colors with luggage and animals thrown on top or taken on board as natives crammed in). The traditional dress and manner of the people walking the streets contrasted with the cell phones they used and the signs for cell phone service (Tioga) all over the town. In the market strawberries, ice cream, beans, nuts sold as well chips and soda. There were lots of coca cola and fanta signs as well in markets and on the walls of homes. Life seems to be lived out on the streets not in homes (not isolated like in rural burbia back in New England)

The colors and action was at times overwhelming and I also felt I had to be on guard for safety and against theft. We had a nice break at a roof top cafe, with fries and fruit shakes where we could watch the light and clouds dramatically shift around the volcanoes and famous cathedrals and catch a young girl being led on a horse about the cobblestone streets.

Back down on the streets, we again were hit upon by many trying to sell goods, bags, huipils, jade necklaces, skirts, etc. Though I wanted to look and maybe buy, it was hard to focus and browse under the sales pressure. We were not really on top of the exchange or knowing what a good price should be or even what we really wanted yet. (Rate exchange was at times $7.5 quetzals for a dollar and at other times down to $7.15. For some reason I had a hard time accessing my ability to do math quickly.

This is a good guide to Antigua besides my photos.

We walked up the hill past numerous language schools to an old famous old church with more ruins in a museum there. The church had been effected by an earthquake that resulted in the movement of it's walls.

When I wanted to take a picture of an old woman selling beads made from colorful seeds in front of this structure, I could feel such a strong energy that I did not want to cross her. I thought buying some beads might ease her , make a connection, and allow for the photo - but even after we bought 4 for 5 quetzals she wanted more for a photo. Tired of being hustled for everything, not really feeling her willingness, and not wanting to feel the strength of her negative energy I let it go and focused on a family happily posing for a portrait.

Although the town is small and walkable in a few hours, there really is a lot packed in, some wonderful boutiques and coffee and jade 'factories' that could have been explored, and many cafe's to hang in and meet all sorts of people. And although the layout of Antigua is not really complicated, somehow it could be a bit confusing to orient oneself to direction, unless back at the central square, Plaza Major.

By afternoon my fatigue caught up along with a headache and we had to rush around to make it back to the bus for the long ride into the higher lands towards Lake Atitlan and Panajachel.

Packing into a mini-van with about 8 -10 other folk, we began a long ride out of town to the north and west of and the ascent into higher lands and the Lake. We encountered and chatted with a doctor and her family. She was doing volunteer work in clinics through either her church or some Christian organization. She also had worked in Rwanda. One daughter was heading to Smith or Mount Holyoke, and this led me to think of Mariel who would soon be heading away from the valley and was not traveling with me.

There was also a woman who had finished 3 years working for an NGO in Haiti with her French ‘man friend’ and his son. They were also studying in Spanish school and taking a weekend to travel to the lake and Chichi market. Both groups told us of their hikes to the active volcano Pacaya, and walking on the glassy and somewhat still molten lava rocks. Some American kids had to ride donkeys as they were too out of shape to manage the several hour hike led by a guide, yet these older travelers had made it. I wondered if I would have the energy, but certainly I had the interest - just not the time.

Riding out of town we had to pass a long strip of homes and storefronts, colorful, many poorly constructed with tin roofs. Some were being constructed now with cement that showed increasing prosperity. There were lots of signs and messages written like graffiti on the walls, lots of commerce. Gas stations, auto parts shops, traditional goods and food, and newer international popular fashion items and fast food, bikes, cell phones and many people waiting on line for buses - many motorcycles and mopeds. The strip seemed to go on for a long while, an endless extension of the outskirts of the city, not so quaint, very intense and layered life. The modern was colliding and being built over (squeezing out?) the traditional. I tried to take some photos from the window, especially of the unique site of a common clothes washing area, a cement bound square or rectangular shaped basin where the women gathered together to wash, beat, and wring out the clothes before they'd take them to dry. This was a ritual that has gone on for centuries perhaps.

Finally we made it out into the countryside, where homes and shacks were more spread out and one could see the terracing of agriculture, corn and other vegetables, in the hills. Also we'd pass interesting colors and shapes of the limestone being excavated for building materials, or just exposed along the curving road. The drive became more thrilling as many buses and cars wizzed along or tried to pass, with lots of honking. Whether these were hellos or warnings, I was often not sure. Soon I had to turn to face forward and lean to the window and halt the engaging conversation with the other travelers as nausea threatened to take over. I was not the only one concentrating. Part of the problem may have been the roller coaster like ride, and another may have been fumes from the exhaust from passing vehicles.

Finally we got to see the volcanoes and Lake Atitlan appear as we made our descent to Panajachel. Arriving at our hotel we also had volcano views and a chance to see the sunset, and then sunrise again, around them. Had a view of both modern and 'luxury' homes with fancy cars in walled in courtyards, and ramshackle roofs, caving in or layered with construction, colorful wash hanging on clotheslines among tin roofs right next door.

Back on the streets to find a place to eat and take in the town, we again found streets filled with markets and goods, some quite nice, but difficult to browse in so short a time. The restaurants along the park and by the water provided lively music and a party like atmosphere for some, though we chose a quieter place to rest and digest in with some wonderful Guatemalan hot chocolate. Panajachel has a chocolate factory we hoped to visit at some point, but never really made it as it was closed the next day (Sunday).

Waking early on Sunday we headed to Chichi market even further north.

Carlos really wanted to go here, a more authentic Mayan town and famed market where tradition and tourists meet. I was partly ready for a retreat to the lake hotel and leisure, but did find the ride and town fascinating, and began to prepare myself for negotiation and purchasing of handicrafts, especially as we needed a bag to carry some in, and bags were plentiful.

We approached the main church set high on top of steps where Mayans situated themselves to burn copal incense, sell and layout flowers for offerings, take a break from the bustle, or gather around the base to display more goods and try to catch the eye and attention of tourists.

The church of Santo Tomás is where the manuscript of the Popul Vuh was found in 1702.The church was built on the site of a Maya altar, and it is reputed that the steps are made from stones of that altar. Mayan- cofrades perform ceremonies on an altar outside the church, but they are not permitted to do those rituals within the church itself

I loved the layering of faces and postures and started to take some photos when I recognized the silhouette of tango friends Ethan and Jen on the top steps. I zoomed in and called to them. Jen was working for Save the Children in a town a few hours away, but they were here to meet up with Ethan's parents whom I also knew from the swing community. Fortuitous timing. A few moments later we would have missed them. We got a portrait and exchanged quick hugs and hellos and then Carlos and I headed around to explore the rows of stalls and bargain. It was hard not to want (and buy) so many of the blankets, masks, bags, hangings, huipils as so much was beautiful, and Carlos was so eager. Yet thinking of carrying all this around helped me put a hold (as well as the fact that we had not exchanged or taken so much money with us).

We made our way to the other smaller church at the end of the market and then headed back and this time ran into another set of Shutesbury/Amherst friends. Annette Cycon was with her daughter Sarah and other young girls and friends of Mariel! The girls were doing volunteer work around Lake Atitlan (San Pedro) Noting their bags I felt reassured that buying some for our daughters was a good idea and also got an idea of what the pricing should be. We did not have a long time to chat so I did not find out more details of their work, and am still very curious. The girls seemed to be having a great time however.

We photographed the graveyard with it's colorful 'houses' over tombs from afar, and then after Carlos bought yet another hanging, we headed back to our bus. Luckily we had time for a quick meal bought from a local Mayan cooking for locals. The fried chicken was tender along with tasty beans and coleslaw (which was unexpected and wonderful) We added in some peeled fruit, peaches, bananas, mango and happily headed back to Pana, to catch a boat to the Hotel Casa del Mundo- which would be a welcome retreat and rest for a few days.

Heading to the dock we were approached by captains who attempted to direct us away from the public boat and overcharge us. Finally we boarded the small motor boat - lancha (launch) and still paid a different rate than the locals (which upset my sense of fairness-and left me feeling taken advantage of) Later we found out this was standard business and it had a certain logic- locals were poorer and regular commuterst.

While waiting to leave, in another unexpected meeting, I caught a candid moment of Annette boarding the other boat to San Pedro with the girls. Her hair was wonderfully backlit by the western afternoon sun.

Ah- being on the water felt great. I could not wait to get in and wash the grit and intensity of all the people, sounds, smells colors away. The sun was setting and the day and I became more mellow.

Casa del Mundo near Jabailito, terraced and built into the hills, was the romantic get away Carlos hoped it would be. Beautifully designed and decorated with local handicrafts, yet simple, with magnificent views of the volcanoes Atitlan and San Pedro. Our rooms were perfectly situated to take this all in.

We made it there for a welcome full 3 course meal which we accompanied with wine. They served guests at a common table and so conversation was lively exchanging personal history and travel information with teachers, newly weds, couples celebrating anniversaries, and families from the US and Europe mainly. This was a bit upscale and very white, although the hosts were Guatemalan (the owner an American had married a Guatemalan woman and they built this place and raised their sons here. Both were going to prestigious colleges in the states like Harvard and Amherst, one with a hotel and tourism emphasis, not surprisingly.

As night fell the sky remained dramatic with clouds gathering over the volcanoes as they did daily, often bringing rain around 2-4 o'clock . The full moon darted in and out. We went to bed pretty early, buzzed by the wine, satiated by the food, and exhausted already from the full 2 days we had just finished.

Lake Atitlan, is considered one of the most beautiful lakes in the world and it did feel quite special. It is a crater and the water is clear, cool and without much plant or fish life. With the wind blowing it could get quite wavy and Carlos enjoyed a daily early morning swim crossing to other nearby shores. Several kayakers enjoyed the boating, although we never managed to make time for this. I would have loved to have had more time to just sunbathe, swim, boat and read on the many hammocks and lounge chairs on various terraces over the water. But we also wanted to explore some of the other lakeside towns.

Monday morning, after a great breakfast with juice, coffee eggs, plantains, tortillas or toast, and beans (traditional) we headed out to San Marcos de Laguna nearby, the hippie new age town coexisting with traditional Mayan. We had to boat as we were warned that hiking in that direction was dangerous. This town housed many expatriots and yes hippies, and workshops of all sort were conducted there for 1 to 2 week visitors, such as a memoir writing workshop led by the famed Joyce Maynard. The first site that greets one is the hotel Schuman, which is comparatively upscale.

A description of the town and experience is here.

Later winding through narrow paths covered with hanging vines and palm leaves we passed many spas, massage, healing/meditation centers, and lodgings with a new age bent (and hearing that many are questionable in terms of credentials and quality). We found our way uphill to the more Mayan center of town. There was a lively basketball game going on, cheered by village onlookers and children were playing in the playground nearby. Further up hill one passed the houses of the local people who spoke mainly Kakchiquel or kakchikel which is the name of local indigenous group and also its language.

People were hanging in front of the church and busy with daily life activities and leisure. We passed by a child care center built of recycled bottles and tried to find the home of a German woman, Susana Heisse, who built her own home out of 'garbage' and began a project of having kids and locals collect and stuff bottles with plastic bags and wrappers and use them to build walls.

After a wonderful small healthy lunch (a soup) and conversationwith a writing workshop participant, a teacher from NY, we attempted to find the Heisse home back up the hills

We never did find it, though were given numerous directions up and down various 'streets'.

After doing some research- It seems there are a number of projects in San Marcos to help locals- One writing workshop participant wrote of them here.

Anyway, as there really was not much in this town, and wanting to enjoy some down time at Casa, we headed back for a swim and brief nap before dinner again. Again the food was fantastic, and there was a dramatic scene with lightening and thunder storms resulting in power outages and dinner by candlelight.

The only thing that clouded our enjoyment was a call from home saying that Largo, Carlos's dog, had taken a turn for the worse and had been diagnosed with cancer. It was uncertain what could be done, perhaps an operation, but as he was old he also might not survive. It was decided he would visit the vet the next day and we would check in.

The next day, torn by wanting to just do 'nothing' and hang, we decided to explore the other side of the lake later in the day after a morning swim and reading time. We figured a boat ride around would be fun and we were curious to see the more 'authentic' and larger town of Santiago de Atitlan, also known for it's crafts. We took the long way around with a boat to San Pedro and watched with a bit of trepidation as dark clouds moved in quickly over the volcanoes. It did seem to rain more frequently there and earlier in the day. Luckily we did have some raingear. As we neared the port to San Pedro we found out we had to get a connecting boat on the other side of the town- at another dock , and so finally took a taxi or 'tuk tuk' over the cobblestone roads and hills of the town in a rush ride to the boat. It was a quick tour of San Pedro, with the feeling of being in some Indian Jones like chase. San Pedro which also seemed like another backpacker hang, was sort of funky and dirty. We had heard it was lively and noisy at night, but we were glad to be staying at the peaceful and beautiful Casa del Mundo.

We made it onto the boat and as we approached Santiago were caught in a downpour and thunder. Still it was fascinating and moody and I tried to capture some of this in photos. The rain cleared some of the action off the streets which in a way was welcome and we darted from stall to stall up the hill to the famed church in the square where there had been a massacre during the long war to independence. The Mayan resistance here was strong and there were memorials to this event. There was also a school in session and signs of a fair - the frame of a very old ferris wheel.

It would have been interesting to wander around more, but we had to catch an early boat back across the lake to make it back in time for dinner. We bought some wonderful wooden puzzle sculptures with hidden drawers and just made it onto a speed boat as the boat was leaving, Carlos negotiated with the captain and practically pushed me on which was upsetting but ultimately a good move, as the public ferry which was originally suggested and cheaper would have taken much longer.

Our last meal at Casa was a bit of Thai cousine, Unfortunately Carlos also was greeted by a message from home. His dog Largo had died. It was quite sad as he could not be there. Still we enjoyed a hot tub staring at the full moon and stars before retiring. We thought of Largo's spirit and imagined him joining the energy and light of the night sky above us and over the Lake - a return to the elements.

In the morning we then had one last quick swim and I was truly sorry to have to leave but we decided to stick to our plan and head to Antigua/Guatemala City and an overnight bus up to Flores/Tikal to see the ruins.

We had to make a connection in Pana to the collectivo and luckily was able to leave our bags at the hotel we had stayed at while we got more money and tried to shop one last time. A bit pressured, I bought some more jade jewelry at a higher price than I would have liked, and Carlos bought a necklace for Jen and mask and we dashed back to meet the bus. Carlos reminded me that when home I would only appreciate having the jewelry and not remember the price. That was true and I am already wearing it and appreciating the beauty, as are others. Yet with concern for paying for college and the rising price of oil, I was already torn about the price of the vacation and feeling a bit guilty spending on myself.

The ride down to Antigua was luckily not as wild as the ride up, and Carlos was able to sleep some, but my stomach had started to bother me and so when we arrived and went to eat I was not quite as able to enjoy a meal or feel as rested. I also had a bit of diarrhea.

Back in Antigua, I again wished we could stay a while and relax in the square, people watch, talk to travelers, or explore more of the restaurants and hear music, but we only had a few hours and needed to get food and drink for the overnight trip.

Feeling rushed, we managed to do our shopping get some coffee for gifts and sit briefly by the central square Plaza Mayor fountain.

This was a weekday and there was a lot more hustle and bustle in town. I again could take in the many internationals resting after their day of language study, or tourists also taking a break as well as the energy and effort of those selling goods or offering shoe shines and …yes young boys would eagerly approach to polish even one's open toed sandals. One person has to say this about all the children working. It seems they should be in school, yet many are not.

Needing to take a bathroom break, we rushed back to the tourist agency only to be told we had to get on the bus. It was earlier than we had hoped, and then we had a long ride through town picking up various other travelers, some of whom we had met already in other locations. Finally heading in the rain to Guatemala City we also got stuck in traffic jams where buses blocked intersections, ignoring lights to try to push ahead of each other hopelessly and with macho attitude (and stupidity).

We had to hang in the terminal because it was too dangerous to leave and go through intense airport like security checks before boarding. Finally on board, we were also bombarded by country-western like latin music on Overhead TV"s which would have been fun (funny) and enjoyable if we weren't so tired-Finally they were turned off and we luckily could stretch out over two seats each to try to sleep. Other than the early morning police checkpoint, where we had to get off while they went through the bus, we went straight through to Flores.


Arriving early morning, I was already beat and exhausted. We had thought we might head to the terminal and leave bags so we could visit the nearby nature preserve, but in a daze I thought we should disembark with all the others in Flores (across the causeway), maybe have breakfast, and then find our way. Looking unsure of our plans, we immediately got approached by another private van driver who wanted lots of money to take us to the park and later our hotel in Remate which was 30 km away. Exhausted and feeling bound by luggage I still did not want to use up so much of our money and wanted Carlos to call the Park as they were supposed to pick folks up for free. Unfortunately we could not get through (a travel agent supposedly tried to call for us on his cell).

We were about to walk with our luggage up the street and then just decided to sit a bit and get coffee in a place right there and finally agreed to let the driver take us. He would stay while we visited the park, watch our luggage, and then drive us to El Remate. I am sure we overpaid (it cost as much as was the ride from Guatemala city) to go a very short distance, but we did not have to walk across the causeway or later go back to Flores and find a collectivo with all our luggage. We got a quick tour of the little town on the lake, which did seem colorful- pastel and quaint, a good spot to stay on the way to Tikal.


Note: by now you may have a sense of the pace and all that we were trying to take in and adjust to . For me it was a challenge to try to relax and enjoy while negotiating and planning. (so it was challenging for Carlos too to be with me). I found myself out of my comfort zone, and actually missing home or wishing we had planned a less ambitious trip, a few days on a beach somewhere with more time just to laze and connect. I was also beginning to be sick. However we pressed on with our 'activities'.

As no guests were at the Park so early, we actually had a quiet self-guided walk across hanging bridges over the canopy, listening to the howler monkeys with some information on the tropical trees and their uses, and time to chill. This was welcome. We then went on a series of 6 ziplines for our 'adventure' part of our trip. Being challenged by heights, this was an achievement and a thrill for me. It was just too bad we did not get good pictures. Our guides were very supportive however and did try to snap some, and pointed out some monkeys. Finally we had an easy horseback ride around and our knowledgeable guides showed us the huge ant hills (or termite like hills) and we passed the resident spider monkeys,


My intestines still off balance, I was then glad to head to El Remate and swim in the blue/green caribbean like Lake PetenItza. Surprisingly however the access was a beach of limestone like sand that became mud and one sank in almost up to the knees. There was lots of bird and goat poop to avoid and lake grasses with a sulphur-like smell. Floating felt fine, but later I decided to take medicine as the diarrhea did not subside and I wanted insurance against all the possible bacteria we were exposed to.

Up in the hotel we had a tourist picture view of the lake and pier/palapa from our window and swing seat . Outside on the grounds the tropical plants were wonderful to walk around, We found an iguana darting into a rocky ledge by the pool. After cooling off with AC and napping cozily together we then enjoyed a spectacular sunset and a lakeside meal which I unfortunately could not stomach as it was bit too peppery .

Sleep was welcome- as we had to get up early for a 5:30 collectivo to Tikal.

Tikal-

This was the turning point of our vacation, about half way through, and our last day and night in Guatemala.

Luckily we arrived early as it was cloudy and threatening rain on and off. We did not attempt a morning sunrise tour as we had heard that there rarely was a view as it was mostly overcast. Indeed it had rained this morning too.

Anway - there is not much I wish to say although lots one can research and read. The site is huge and impressive and probably more interesting with a guide. We managed with our general guidebooks. For the price of the entrance fee (3 X what the book had indicated and 6 X what locals pay 150 vs 25 quetzals) they should have included a map/guide--but that was extra.

Regardless, we read and walked and climbed. The pyramids being so steep that you had to use a wooden constructed stairway to ascend as the real steps were roped off. They certainly would have been precarious, steep, wet, and slippery.

I was proud that I pushed my fear of heights and made it up temples 4 and 5. Carlos was kind enough to watch (and protect me from behind)

At the top of these pyramids we did try to take in the expanse of the jungle and reflect on what it might have been in the Mayan days when it was a busy metropolis, yet I did not feel the same spiritual and mysterious connection I had had in 1983 at Palenque and Uxmal.

Later as it started to rain, and we were tiring, we headed back to the entrance to checkout the museum and meet our collectivo. We passed by one more sculpted stone altar for offerings and there was guide talking to two young men. We listened in as he explained a bit of the Mayan symbology and beliefs. And this became more interesting as he touched on the year 2012, the end of the Mayan calendar and spoke with Carlos a bit, letting us in that there were shamanic gatherings (even just 2 days before) at Tikal and other sites throughout Central America. Shamans and medicine folk as far away as Israel were gathering regularly to 'help' with the transition. We gathered that there were rituals and praying, but perhaps also thinking and planning for the future of our earth. It seems the Mayan traditions are being mixed in with other orientations and maybe newer age philosophies.

Though it seemed we were far removed from the daily news and concerns of war, oil prices, and environmental damage, we were reminded that these concerns and issues were still far reaching and spiritual minds were joining to address them. I can only hope prayers and change of focus and attitude may help.

Information on Tikal.

Again after a local a meal of chicken and slaw, while watching a soccer match , we headed on the collectivo to the hotel , had a meal, admired some more Mayan crafts, and bought some last minute gifts .The next day we went onto the Belize.


Now trying to reconstruct this trip after about 3 weeks back, so much is fading. I was glad we paid for more expensive bus that took us across the border, straight towards Belize City. We had to pay the full fare though we stopped in St Ignacio, but we managed to keep our tickets to try to use it from St Ignazio to Belize City a few days later (Which we did)

We were definitely tired but determined to enjoy. We made it to Clarissa Falls a ranch in Belize finally had some laid back time. Expecting a beautiful room with a view of an exotic jungle river the Mopan, we actually had a bare room with fans, shutters to keep bugs out, and a bathroom facing the river, also shuttered. We were about to leave, when we met a group from a wedding party who was staying there who seemed to be having so much fun we decided to just stay, and give it a chance. Be with each other and process. Chaina - the owner made very refreshing shakes. We got to witness a cattle crossing and as it was very hot and humid, we decided to tube down the rapids, encouraged by another couple coming out of the water. Joined by two of the young ladies, studying OT, we set off down 7 sets of rapids, with lots of brown water in between to paddle. We were told to stay center, and that was good advice as we heard later that snakes and iguanas sometimes hung on low branches and might drop on you. and there was TONS of garbage, unfortunately, collecting among the roots of trees along the shore. This was something that made me again miss home- the cleaner Deerfield River, and left me a bit concerned about the water I got in my mouth when dumping over after a hitting some rocks. Yes I dumped, yet the water was cool. The only thing was that I also hit a huge rock on my sacrum and bum- which then was quite sore and had a major black and blue mark for weeks.

Concern over the water and my already upset stomach, I did continue with antibiotics and drank chamomile and lemon tea, though a garlic/cumin and salt drink was suggested.

Besides the fun of the rapids and joy of the water, we also had some added adventure as there was a sudden rain storm and thunder burst. Luckily it did not get so heavy that it flooded the river immediately threatening us with way too fast and high water, But later that day the river did rise from all the rain upstream the past few days and we were not able to go caving at Actun Mun or Bartons Cove as we hoped.

We could not go to another recommended set of ruins either as the local ferry would not pass. This was all a disappointment, however by now it seemed one could only just give in and go with the flow. So we hung out reading and just being and enjoying the food and conversation with the woman who ran the ranch. Her cousin took us on a horseback ride instead. He was knowledgeable and educated and verified that the limestone rocks, which I noticed and were fascinated by, were from an inland sea (ancient) . That is why there are lots of caves in the area.

After two days, we thought we'd head to the coast, but didn't because of the threat of a hurricane (which went up towards Mexico). Yet as the roads to the Pine forest, gorges, and waterfalls were muddy, and not advised to travel on, we instead went to St Ignacio (not so interesting of pretty town but we tried the internet) and more local ruins at Cahal Pech. These ruins were some of the oldest Mayan and proved to be a peaceful place with a good museum to actually learn about the archeology and culture. In town we also talked with a man from Ireland we had seen the night before with a Mayan woman. We though they were maybe having an affair as she set him up with a room. But it turned out she was guide teaching him about archeology and healing, and again focused on the 2012 transition.

Finally at the end of a long day we just enjoyed the Ranch- the plants, butterflies, birds, and the Toucans that sat on our shoulders, geese, turkeys, chickens wandering around, and dogs that followed us. On our trek back up the long road, we scouted out some interesting stones and I found an arrowhead or ancient flintstone tool which just fit in my palm. Chaina was concerned I might be picked up by Belizian authorities at the airport. She also kept ones that were found on her property, noting that it was an site of ancient settlements. I was about to leave it with her, yet it felt like it was meant for me, so I decided to pack it.

Again we talked about healing with Chaina, and the next day she drove us to get the bus to the Caye. She left me with words something like 'Now Alison- Remember, you have to accept your gift, because with your gift, the more you can give to other people, and the more you will get yourself." And something about having a gift is great blessing and should not be ignored.

The way she thought about her gifts and Mayan background, is that she brought healing and goodness to other people and in turn they would bring goodness and healing to others, in an expanding reverberation. The stone ‘tool’ reminds me of this, as I wonder what to do in my life.


Finally we made it to Caye Caulker, 45 minutes on a ferry from Belize City and stayed at place run by expats from the Keys, facing the water with welcome white sand, blue water and cool breezes. This was the vacation I probably needed (and more of), and Carlos was more in his element. Sand, sun, water, music, food, a laid back Jamaican reggae-like feel. Lots of internationals, (and young women in bikinis :) We got to snorkel and see manatees, sea turtles, barracudas, groupers, moray eels, nurse sharks, identify and enjoy lots of tropical fish and even pet stingrays!

There was only one scary moment when I saw Carlos dive down after a stingray and stroke it, even along it's tail! Luckily it did not attack and he did not get caught on it!

We danced a bit of salsa on the sand and tango in a local restaurant and deepened our connection.

All in all it was a very intense and full vacation, but Carlos and I managed to draw closer and share thoughts, dreams, and discoveries.

I found that I missed home and dicovered myself appreciating the beauty of the states, the Valley, the comforts and closeness of family, friends community. Although it seems there are many from States and Europe who have left to settle in Belize and in Guatemala I felt less interested in making that choice and was ready to return.

There was so much transition ahead as Mariel prepared to go to school and Ian was entering his senior year. Carlos was proceeding with his divorce. I faced my work and home again and now have more time to reflect and define my life.


Some links:
A video and information on both Lake Atitlan and Chichi.

Language school on the Lake Atitlan

Geology of Guatemala by some students