My Film Career un-Début

I was finally discovered. A woman chased me across the Plaza Grande and followed me down a side street as I headed for Plaza Chica. She entreated me to be an extra in a documentary to bring visitors to Michoacán. I was well-qualified for my road to stardom: I looked foreign and I was to be a Turista.

To make a long story shorter, we agreed that, although I was not available that day to go to Santa Clara, we would meet the next day and I would go with the film crew to the Yácatas at Tzintzuntzan. I invited good-natured and, as it turned out, hapless friend NV to share in the glory of a Turista part, as well. This was lucky for me, but we will get to that.

The next day we were to meet at Noon. The time was changed to 5:00 PM, then re-changed to 6:00 PM. We were flexible. NV and I hopped in a van with film crew and took off, on our way to fame and fortune.

The film crew had a lot to set up.

Pelota de Fuego players wait.

We arrived at the Yácatas. The Director did not like the blouses we were wearing with our capris and we were decked out with something else. We finally passed muster.

The dressing-room.

We got to see the rehearsal for the Pelota de Fuego. I captured this short video clip, but when I wanted to get more I was shooed away. The Director did not want to burn up the Turistas he said. “Mala publicidad.” (Note the singed grass.) I like the coup de grâce when the Pelota de Fuego is smothered with a bucket.

We went back to the dressing-room to wait. Another Turista, JA, was re-dressed several times. Then final touches were added to his hair with gel.

It got later and darker.  When will we start I asked. “Just another thirty minutes.” It got much darker. Just another hour they said.

At some point, after being dressed and coiffed, these lovelies were dismissed; it was decided they would not be used.

It was now pitch black outside and the time was 9:30 PM. My friend’s husband had arrived—in his car!—earlier. I talked to a sub-director and said that we could only wait another thirty minutes. He talked by radio with the Director. We would start in an hour. And the shooting would only take two hours. We would be on our way back to Patzcuaro before 1:00 AM. I said that I was sorry, that I wanted to give my apoyo for a documentary to promote Michoacán, but that I needed to leave by 10:00 PM if shooting did not begin by then. (I had been up since 6:00 AM; I had commitments all day the next day.)

Some of the last comments I heard from the Director over the radio were to send “Felipe” (or someone) to find another Turista. And to go get carnitas for dinner for the crew and the extras. As NV’s husband drove us back toward Pátzcuaro, I wondered where one snatches up wandering Turistas at that time of night at the Yácatas or in the little town of Tzintzuntzan, and where does one buy carnitas?  Or how would I have gotten a taxi if I were not riding home with friends?

I realize that there was a cultural disjuncture in this scenario, but probably not the one which first comes to your mind. The principal disjuncture was between Pátzcuaro and the D.F. At 10:00 PM in the D.F. the crew members would probably normally think about getting dressed and where to go for dinner. The night would be young. Patzcuaro rolls up its sidewalks by 9:00 PM.

This film crew worked in Pátzcuaro and surrounding areas from April 16th to the 29th. They were very nice. I am sure the documentary will be well done and I very much look forward to seeing it. I wish I were in it. I am matutinal, not a night owl. Darn. Tell me if you see the documentary.

You, too, can patzcuarear.

Rest in Peace – Que en Paz Descanse

Mexicans mock death with the unique catrinas, skulls and skeletons so often featured in folk art. These tombstones make a good complement.

(Photographer  unknown)

Live and play in Patzcuaro.

Noche de Muertos 2010 - #1

More coming soon on Noche de Muertos...watch this site.

Everywhere around Lake Pátzcuaro fields of zempasúchitl, a species of bright orange marigold, are being cultivated for Night of the Dead. Take particular note of the usage "Night" of the Dead. The rest of Mexico observes Day of the Dead and many mexicanos come to Pátzcuaro to observe the unique customs of the Purhépecha pueblos around the lake. In fact, some 95% of Pátzcuaro visitors year-round are mexicanos, which makes for a very traditional ambiance.

Common both to the town of Pátzcuaro and to the pueblos are flowers, decorations and bedizened altars during the week that precedes Noche de Muertos. However, the vigil in the cemetery of Pátzcuaro proper is held during the day, as in the rest of Mexico, while the singular vigil in the lake pueblos is held at night.

More about Night of the Dead around Lake Pátzcuaro.

Photos on Flickr of The Flowers.

Photos on Flickr of The Cemeteries.

Why not live in Patzcuaro?

Un Taco de Ojos

When this young man was introduced to a Pátzcuaro dama she exclaimed, "¡Es un taco de ojos!" (a taco for the eyes). I love this Mexican expression for good-looking, a hunk... Mexicanos wax poetic about their favorite kinds of tacos and taquitos so the metaphor is a supreme and piquant compliment.

Espanfranglish

My tongue feels like a pretzel. Seven people at La Jacaranda, each of whom speaks a particular language set taken from French, Spanish, English and some Catalan. So when one us speaks to another the common language between the two persons must, or should, be used. But after a length of time, I note that we are all mixing tongues. Furthermore, our brains scramble more by the end of a day and often the right language is selected for the wrong person--or is it verse-viça?

Fun nonetheless, and good for much laughter.

Try Rattlers and Moles

A friend of mine in Patzcuaro, I will call her FP, unfortunately has contracted H. Pylori which has resulted in a bleeding ulcer. She also has some enlarged lymph nodes that have suspicious cells. Her housekeeper, call her Maria,  is very concerned for FP, and yesterday Maria explained to her that she can be totally cured of the H. Pylori as well as any latent cancer by a natural cure that is purported to cure even a late diagnosis leukemia.

It seems that in a pueblo called Santa Ana, not on the way to Erongaricuaro but farther away where men live in a hill cave, the Purhépechas collect what is needed for this miracle cure and come into Patzcuaro to sell their remedies. The cure consists of two different food dishes and you must eat both (not necessarily at the same time). The first is a stew made of serpiente de cascabel (rattlesnake) and the second a stew made with tuza, a mole. The mole is believed to be a very clean animal because it eats only specific plant roots, and it is also thought to be highly nutritious. Veggies, rice, pasta, potatoes, beef, or chicken, etc. can be added to the stews, but never pork or chiles.

Maria wanted to immediately have the Santa Ana gatherers procure the requisite moles and snakes (cleaned and dressed, by the way) for today. FP thought she had tactfully postponed this therapy by saying she wants to first finish her fourteen-day "mega antibiotic" treatment. But the response was that the stews do not interfere with regular (allopathic) medicines, and that she should proceed immediately. For someone who has not been able to eat much of anything because of an ulcer, it would seem that right now eating-therapy would be problematic. However, because Maria wants so much to help, FP dutifully ordered moles and snakes. Her taste buds are tingling in anticipation. She will have her housekeeper do the stewing.

Last week FP was given another tip:  drink "potato water". Agua de papas is made by dicing or grating whole potatoes, skin and all, and soaking them in water for several hours. One then drains off the water and saves it in a large container. Drink one glass each morning. FP's husband makes the dirty-looking water for her--and then fries up delicious hash browns for himself. Another Patzcuaro friend claims the water soothes the stomach better than any modern product and that he himself was cured of a serious bleeding ulcer by potato water only. Good news: FP reports that the agua does indeed soothe her stomach lining, whereas Nexium did nothing.

Much of the tourism to Patzcuaro is by devout mexicanos who come on a pilgrimage to petition Nuestra Señora de la Salud (Our Lady of Health), the pueblo's patron saint, for healing. In front of the Basílica, every day vendors sell folk cures for ailments from arthritis to kidney troubles. The daily market also sells many kinds of medicinal herbs. FP feels genuinely touched by the sincere care and concern that people in Patzcuaro have shown her, which includes recommending the remedies in which they believe and on which there is much focus.

PS - If the next time I eat with FP she serves stew, it will be suspect.

Patzcuaro bound?

Dry Soup

Dry soup is not the same as wet soup around here. In fact, it is not soup. People refer to sopa seca (dry) versus sopa aguada  (watery), although I think that saying sopa con caldo (broth) sounds more savory for the latter.

Dry soup commonly refers to rice deliciously prepared a la mexicana, with tomato, onions, garlic and bits of vegetables.

So if someone asks you if you would like sopa seca, say "yes"...unless, of course, you are in a restaurant and trying to order what you think of, by definition, as soup.

Come live here.

Brisk Business in Patzcuaro

On 1 November 2009, Noche de Muertos, this food cart was set up on its usual corner of the Plaza Vasco de Quiroga, Patzcuaro, Mexico. Hungry customers thronged around it three and four deep, eager for their turn. Trying to serve all, the chef-owner of mobile Hamburguesas y Hotdogs Mayo really moves--and does it with a smile. Great personality! He deserves the business.

A burger with everything = meat, butter, ham, cheese, hot chile salsa, mustard, catsup, mayo, lettuce and bun.

A place for you.

Hotels versus Motels

In Mexico (as in Brazil, and as in most of Latin America, I suspect), hotels are for sleeping and motels are for, well....illicit dalliance. The buzz around Patzcuaro has been that the gringos have discovered motels. But the word is not that they are using them for clandestine assignations, but rather for very practical purposes.

Motels have some very specific features. They are enclosed by high walls with an attendant at the entrance. One pays first, usually at a drive-through window, then drives straight into a garage with a garage door. One gets out of the car inside the garage, closes the door, and enters directly into the bedroom--seeing no one and not being seen, except by the attendant inside the compound. No friends or neighbors will see your car to recognize it. And there is an abundance of newly built, nice motels everywhere.

The advantage of all this privacy for gringos coming back from the U.S. with border orders, or traveling with a car full of gifts to take north, is that overnight parking is very secure. The accommodations are also very cheap.

We have now been initiated. It was late on a Sunday afternoon and we were tired. We saw no one inside, it was very quiet and we heard only one car. Family meals are traditionally scheduled on Sunday afternoons, so that apparently is not rush hour at motels. I think we paid about US$20 for the night. The room was comfortable and the cable TV was good (there was one surprising channel). And I must say we had the best reading lights and mirrors ever on our cross country travels.

Caveat: There is no in and out. Once you are in, you are in. Eat first.

Dally in Patzcuaro.

My Happy Birthday

I woke up to a lovely card and today Glen took la güera to eat at La Güera for her birthday. Good company with my man, and good food. An unprepossessing exterior. One of Patzcuaro's good secrets.

These shrimp brochettes were as good as they look.
A taste and texture treat.

I also appreciate the phone calls. And this morning early I received the traditional Las Mañanitas wish via email from my dear friend, Edna.

See a video of Las Mañanitas below.

Brunch at Mansion de los Sueños

A group of Patzcuaro women who can claim diverse countries of origin and who use English as their lingua franca gathered today for brunch in Priscilla Madsen's elegant dining room at Mansion de los Sueños. Future brunches are scheduled for the third Thursday of each month.

These Flores de Pátzcuaro are searching for a good name for the group.

The monthly brunch is a good venue to meet interesting people, for enjoyable conversation and to glean practical tips. Mark your calendar.

Cross cultures.

Live in Patzcuaro.

The Economy in El Norte

Yes, times are tough in El Norte.

Live in Patzcuaro.

The Origin of Lake Patzcuaro and the Egret

Bi-lingual text, based on a Purhepecha legend.

See http://birdpatzcuaro.blogspot.com/2008/11/legend-of-egret.html

One Foot in the Grave

"One foot in the grave" takes on new meaning.

Click here: A Small Funeral

Calling a Cell Phone Number in Mexico

Do you want to call someone with a Mexico cell phone number? This may not be for the faint of heart. Here goes:


From the U.S.
To a cell phone in Mexico, you must insert a "1" between the country code and the area (lada) code:
011-52-1-888-888-8888

In Mexico

From a land line phone to a cell phone with a different area code:
Dial 045 before the area code and number - 045-888-888-8888

From a land line phone to a cell phone with the same area code:
Dial 044 before the area code and number - 044-888-888-8888


From cell phone to cell phone:
Simply dial the area code and number - 888-888-8888

Telephone numbers are usually broken into two-digit segments in Mexico. The U.S. convention of 434-342-8888 would be expressed as 43-43-42-88-88, but sometimes as 434-3-42-88-88. The different style of breaking up the numbers equally confuses persons from both sides of the Rio Bravo/Rio Grande.

Tu or Usted?

People often wonder just when they should use tu and when they should use Usted to address a person as “you” in Mexico. For an explanation, see http://culturespan.blogspot.com/.

On Cultural Time

© Tracy Novinger 2008

American culture teaches its members to “save time”... In Mexico one “spends” time…

Go to http://culturespan.blogspot.com

How Culture Affects Communication

Go to http://culturespan.blogspot.com

Down the Mountain to Zihuatanejo

Tomorrow we will head down the mountain to Zihuatanejo on the west coast of Mexico, about a 3-4 hour drive on the good autopista completed only a few years ago. Temperatures will start warming by the time we reach Uruapan, some 45 minutes west of Pátzcuaro. We will stay at El Tamarindo, a small B&B in the Playa la Ropa area.

On Friday evening, December 28th, I will briefly introduce my book Intercultural Communication: A Practical Guide at a book-signing event at Coconuts Restaurant. The event was organized by Catherine Krantz, Editor and Publisher of the Ixtapa-Zihuatanejo magazine Another Day in Paradise. The book explains the hurdles caused in cross cultural communication that are caused by cultural difference, and it focuses on United States-Mexico communication to illustrate points.

Glen and I look forward to savoring some good huachinango (red snapper) grilled over a wood fire, probably under an umbrella outdoors. Zihuatanejo is sought out by visitors seeking nature friendly and fitness tourism. It is a real town, in contrast to the tony, constructed resort area of adjacent Ixtapa, which is nice, luxurious--but a different kind of venue.

Photo tour of Zihuatenejo - http://www.zihuatanejo-ixtapa.com/phototour1.html

Intercultural Communication: A Practical Guide - http://www.utexas.edu/utpress/books/novint.html

Another Day in Paradise Magazine - http://www.adip.info/

Coconuts Restaurant, Zihuatanejo - http://www.restaurantcoconuts.com/

Oops. It must be the language barrier.

Señora V. speaks some English. She commented that she understands written English more easily than spoken English. It holds still. During a conversation, an americana asked her if there are many Muslims in the Patzcuaro region. “Sí,” Señora V. said she replied in careful English. “We have them domesticated and wild. We eat many. They are very tasty.” When she listened attentively to what must have seemed a torrent of foreign sound, the phonemes of Muslims and mushrooms apparently merged for Señora V.