HOME!

Two thousand eight hundred miles - from the center of México to the northwestern United States - through nopal and encino, grasslands, pinyon and juniper, sagebrush and bitterbrush and lupine country - winding through craggy mountains and driving straight across vast expanses of high desert - the landscape that stretches between Guanajuato and Idaho is spectacular, and during the week of our road trip home it was singing of spring.

We crested Timmerman Hill on Saturday evening, the valley radiant in the slanting light, and our hearts soared. Even as we miss our new friends and the colors, language, and culture of Guanajuato, it is good to be home in Idaho.

On the Road

I have driven more over the past 48 hours than I did the entire five months we were in México. Mainly, we walked everywhere in México, and when we did drive, the tight roads and tunnels disposed me to leave the technical driving to my fearless husband. Now, back in the U.S.A., I'm logging a lot of miles as we roll through the grassy hills of central Texas and Oklahoma, the flat plains of western Texas, the stunning plateau country of northern New Mexico, and the rugged and amazingly green mountains of southern Colorado. Tonight we are perched high above a sweeping pinyon and juniper landscape and under a half-moon in Mesa Verde National Park. The sagebrush, bluebirds, and spring runoff-full rivers tell me I'm on my way home.

El Otro Lado

On Monday morning, we climbed the hills above Guanajuato one more time - saying good-bye to Felix, a friend we made over the last couple of months as we crossed paths in the hills each morning. He gave us some beautiful purple and white crystals from one of the Guanajuato mines where he had worked; we gave him a CSI and a TNC t-shirt. All of the good-byes last week were difficult, even as we have been excited about the imminent return home. We feel so privileged to have met such kind and generous people who we now are grateful to count as friends.

Monday we drove just 4.5 hours to Matehuala. Today we drove 5.5 hours from Matehuala to Nuevo Laredo, where we crossed the border into the U.S.A. The whole drive was beautiful, between the tall and craggy mountains around Monterrey, through long high plains of varied cactus and nopal. We periodically passed small groups of women waiting quietly in the shade of a tree along the highway; men riding bikes and burros through long stretches of desert; food stands made of wood and corrugated metal, where gorditas and refrescos were for sale. Many pick-up trucks and SUVs were heading in the opposite direction, south, loaded past the brim with all kinds of luggage and appliances and bikes - It looked like families moving back to México.

The trip went smoothly; at Nuevo Laredo, we waited in line for less than 30 minutes (in 100 degree heat!) to cross the border. The only drama was that on Sunday, as we made the final preparations to begin the road trip home, Bill the Dog sliced his paw on a shard of glass in the hills and had to get two rows of stitches. This did, however, grant him privileges to ride in the cab of the truck.

Now we are in Austin, Texas. The money is green, rather then pink and blue and orange. The streets are wide. The buildings are surrounded by grass. We bought cupcakes at Whole Foods Market. We are feeling a bit bewildered.

We have crossed the border back to the north, the other side. The physical transition is clear and done. But inside, I keep going back and forth, thinking about what is happening on the crooked, colorful callejones of Guanajuato, wondering what Jesús and Juan Carlos and Diana and Marta and Paty are doing right now.

Family

After five months here in Guanajuato, we discovered that Mark has a cousin living and running a restaurant in nearby San Miguel de Allende. Wow! Jason is chef and part-owner of Café Rama, a hip bistro serving creative local and organic cuisine, just around the corner from the Allende Institute. We are sure it is the hottest place to eat in town. Jason had just returned to México after a month break during the San Miguel slack season. His family lives in Canada, and Jason himself had been living in France until several years ago. Mark had not seen him for more than a decade. We were thrilled and amazed to re-connect with him here in México.

As we prepare to make the trip back to Idaho, we are grateful for all of the friends and family that we have encountered during our wonderful sojourn in Guanajuato. Mi casa es tu casa - We have felt that friendship and hospitality.

English Class at the Escuela Normal

In addition to the literature class at the Universidad de Guanajuato, I have been team-teaching an English class for English teachers. Mark and two excellent U.S. students helped with the class. Last night was our final class meeting, and we had a de traje (potluck) party. The opportunity to teach this class developed serendipitously through a connection with an education consultant from Oregon who was here in Guanajuato helping the Secretariat de Educación Pública develop its program for providing English language instruction to children at the kindergarten and primary school levels. This English course was designed to help the English teachers improve their own English language skills and to help them develop strategies for teaching English effectively. The class met twice a week at the Escuela Normal, a stately, rose-colored ex-convent building. Going to class here felt like an occasion. I loved walking across the spacious, tiled courtyards and up the wide, white staircases to the room that never had an eraser for the whiteboard.

I loved teaching this class. The teachers showed such enthusiasm and dedication to improving their skills for the sake of their students. They taught me a lot about the education system here in México. And we shared a lot of laughs over funny word pronunciations - mine in Spanish, theirs in English. There is something about communicating across languages that can be a great bonding experience. What we lack in words we make up for in earnestness.

El Charco del Ingenio

Outside of San Miguel de Allende, el Charco del Ingenio botanical garden protects a beautiful array of la naturaleza y la flora mexicana: maguey; nopal; and all kinds of cactus, from small buttons that nestle close to the ground to towering sentinels that seem to guard the silence of the desert. The dry chaparral landscape is cut by a narrow canyon, vibrantly green from a small stream. Deep in the canyon, a pool (el charco from which the garden takes its name) is said to be inhabited by an ancient and powerful spirit. A great egret, brilliantly white, quietly stalked its edges.

Cristo Rey

One can get one's bearings in Guanajuato by looking up to the tallest mountain in the area, el Cerro de Cubilete, and the towering statue of Christ that looks out over the broad valley of the Bajío. The 20-meter tall bronze statue, erected in 1950, stands on a globe flanked by two cherubs, one holding a crown of thorns, the other a crown of victory. It is on the highest peak in the area, and it is rumored to be the geographical center of México. A Catholic bishop envisioned the statue in the early 1900s as a way to ensure peace and to foster faith here in the heart of México. (There is chisme - gossip - about where the statue's gaze is directed, according to which city gave more money to the project.) The statue is second only to the one in Rio de Janeiro as the world's largest image of Christ. The site, up a long, winding, climbing road, draws many pilgrims, sometimes thousands at a time, though the afternoon of our visit was quiet. Recently, a man (wearing a white cowboy hat, a snap shirt, and Wrangler jeans) told me about his annual trip to Cristo Rey on horseback. In the first week of January, during the days that honor the three kings of the Nativity story, thousands of horsemen from around México convene to make a trek up the mountain to Cristo Rey. The tradition celebrates their charro (cowboy) heritage, and demonstrates their devotion to God.