Vagabonding

The Rafael Coronel Museum is housed in eight halls of the former Church of San Francisco monastery complex, some of which are in ruin while others have been restored. The main collection is of over 5,000 masks made of wood, leather and clay coming from many of Mexico's regional cultures, past and present. There is also a collection of puppets from Asia and a collection of masks and puppets that belonged to a Mexican theatrical company. The museum was started when Rafael Coronel donated over 10,000 pieces to the city of Zacatecas.
By the time I went through the extensive collection of masks, I was a little overwhelmed and didn't do justice to the other exhibits. I will have to go back another time and spend more than just one day in Zacatecas.

This is the view of one of the hills in Zacatecas from the museum grounds.

Walking north from the city centre along the pedestrian Av. 16 de Septiembre, the crowds disappear and one finds oneself on Av. Alcalde, named after a beatified priest, Fray Antonio Alcalde, who built a nearby hospital and started the University of Guadalajara in 1792. The numerous concrete tables and stools far outnumber the people looking for places to rest. Maybe the Avenue comes alive in the evening when I am usually within a few blocks of my hostel, but it has always been empty whenever I meander through.

I just happened to stop for lunch at Casa Cigales Hotel & Restaurante, the house that Fray Antonio Alcade built in the 1700s. It is named after the town in Spain where he was from. The young waitress, Natalie, is from the U.S. Her father was from Guadalajara, so she came here recently. . . she seemed a little reticent to say much about her life here compared to back home. When she asked me if I liked Guadaljara, I said there were pros and cons to being here - I really like the city, but I miss my friends back home. Then she admitted that she felt much the same way. I couldn't help but make up a story for her - her father, threatened by ICE; her family life disrupted.

Ten years ago when we were in Zihuatenejo, one of the waiters who served us had been born in Mexico but raised in the US. His undocumented parents became citizens when The Immigration and Control Act of 1986 allowed illegal immigrants to become permanent residents, but they never thought to do the same for him. Consequently he was expelled to his birth country where he was working in a cafe and trying to apply to go back to the US.

At the end of every block on Av. Alcade is a fountain with a quote enscribed on it. Water may or may not be coming out of the spout, but the quotes are interesting. I'll give you a sampling. . .

The towers are pointed words, they are prayers aloud, they are piety and supplication. Ramon Mata Torres 1934 - 2021

In quiet leisure, he combed through the past to better see the future. Maria de Jesus Barrera 1945 - 2022

Little by little, all those who are tyrants are falling until the world is cleansed and only brothers remain. Concha Michel 1899 - 1990

Today you are mine, dark one, in my arms: breathe me in in the last second Ernesto Flores 1930 - 2017

I am fruit and flesh and air. I exist with the earth, I belong to the blood that carries me in its veins. Maria Luisa Hidalgo Riestr 1918 - 1990

Art is not a corpse to be dissected, it is a living body of emotions Marco Aurelio Larios 1959 - 2022

To name you, love, to invent you, you hear, love, the birds of dawn Hugo Gutierez Vega 1934 - 2015

Life dissolves like fragile foam. And what remains? What is gone is not born, it vanishes Rebeca Uribe 1911 - 1949

What is necessary is to walk, always walk, never stop; to be masters of the valley, the plains, the mountains Mariano Azuela 1873 - 1952

A social history takes into account the opinions of ordinary people. Carmen Castenada 1941 - 2007

Then my voice was filled with ghosts and mirrors, with birds with burning wings, with labyrinths with uncertain exits. Ramon Gil Olivo 1945 - 2016

For sixty years I have tried to be true to myself. Emmanuel Carballo 1929 - 2014

It is preferable to disappear from the memory of men than to remain immersed in this endless blue insomnia. Carlos Bustos 1968 - 2016

Philosophy is sunshine, Philosphy is perfume. We agree that our girls should be taught philosophy. Agustin Rivera y Sanroman 1824 - 1916

I cast my eyes to the dark corner and there I saw myself crying. Arturo Rivas Samz 1905 - 1985

And with my atrocious immensity of oblivion, I will die content. I ask for nothing more. Alfredo R. Placencia 1875 - 1930

Blessed land! Land sought in dreams, in the devasted word, in the eyes of the air! Ignacio Arriola 1930 - 1990

To live we will leave everything: the house, the book, the mask, and the sea. Adalberto Navarro Sanchez 1918 - 1987

The essential ingredient of One Thousand and One Nights is magic. And, when you think about it, isn't there something magical about the history of a language! Antonio Alatorre 1922 - 2010

My trip this winter has a purpose - not just to escape the worst of winter back home, but to find a place where I would want to stay for a couple of months in the winter. I have a list of requirements:

- easy to fly to from Saskatoon
- mild climate - temperatures from 15 - 25C
- good coffee shops (should this have been number 1?)
- vibrant art and culture scene
- be in a Mexican neighbourhood, close to a mercado and transit

Here is a map of where I will be going and when.

I know many of you think that Laura Secord is just a brand of chocolates that you can buy, but actually she was a real person who ran 32 K across the Niagara Peninsula to warn the British that the Americans, who had invaded the peninsula, were planning to attack. That was in 1813. Today you can visit the Laura Secord House in the village of Queenston, just off the Niagara Parkway, which follows the Niagara River from Lake Erie to Lake Ontario. The river is the border between Canada and the US with New York just across the narrow river. The spectacular Niagara Falls, with its series of rapids and 57-metre drop off the limestone shelf, impedes any navigation along its waterway. If you look at a map, you can see this southern-most part of Canada, squished between the two lakes and at about the same latitude as Southern Oregon, looks very vulnerable to US invasion.

But this isn't about political geography, but about my visit with my neice and her family on a fifth-generation family farm on the Niagara escarpment. The escarpment runs from the southern edge of Lake Ontario in New York State up through Lake Huron and around through Michigan and in to Wisconsin. The escarpment is a UNESCO World Biosphere Reserve and has the oldest forest ecosystem and trees in eastern North America.

But this isn't about geology either, although the hard limestone crust creates beautiful waterfalls and steep valleys where water has eroded through the upper layer. Niagara Falls is one spectacular example of this. Another is the lesser known Bruce Trail that stretches 890 K from Niagara to the northern tip of the Bruce Peninsula and crosses a corner of my niece's farm. We hiked a 3 K loop of it one morning while the ground was still frozen and we were able to navigate up and down the steep cliffs without slipping in the mud.

My niece lives with her husband and family at Elmwood Farms, established in 1932 by immigrants from the Ukraine. Originally a mixed farm, it now produces eggs and grapes.

Before European settlement, the area had been lived on for over 13,000 years. At the time of European contact in the 1600s, the Iroquois-speaking confederation were referred to as the "Neutral People" because of their neutral position between several other indigenous peoples. After the American Revolution in the late 1700s, many Loyalists, including black slaves seeking freedom, fled the US and settled on the Niagara Peninsula. The Niagara area was the termination of the underground railway and it is estimated that 10% of the Loyalists were black.

The first Mennonite settlement in Canada was nearby, settled in 1786 by Loyalists from Pennsylvania. There is a museum in the town of Jordan that has a collection of Fraktur art, an artistic form of calligraphy used by the early Mennonites to decorate personal hymnbooks and religious texts. The following sign describes it better than I can.

An example of Fraktur art on a sign outside the museum in Jordan, ON.

My niece's farm with the original 1913 house, after many iterations.

My niece's husband, chatting with the guys picking up eggs from the farm.

"Live to farm and farm to live." What a great slogan for a farmer!

A perfect latte, delivered by the egg farmer himself!

I can't resist sharing this video that was made several years ago in my niece's house, starring her husband!

There is so much to explore here. I would have liked to have stayed longer and visited the St. Catharines Museum and Welland Canals Centre that covers topics such as the Underground Railroad and the Welland Canals; the Balls Falls Conservation area; the many parks and botanical gardens. . . and hiked more of the Bruce Trail. And here I am in wine country and we didn't have time to do any wine tasting!! I spent some time in Niagara Falls walking along the river. I got to go to Waterloo to see my great nephew from Australia, who is studying at the University of Waterloo, perform in the musical production of The Clockmaker's Daughter. And managed to catch up on my blog while my niece was at work, hanging out in her very comfortable farm house. I guess I'll have to plan to come back!

The flight to Cancun from Guatemala City was fewer than 2 hours and it was relatively easy going through the immigration process. Fran and I said our goodbyes after spending the past month together as she is heading in a different direction. I chose to spend one night in Cancun so I didn't have to fly to Toronto and arive there late at night. I chose an AirBnb close to the airport. It looked like it would be easy and convenient to get to. But first I had to get a taxi. You'd think I'd know better than allow myself to be scammed. . . I actually paid $70 Canadian to be driven to a place 15 minutes away! I wonder sometimes what happens to my brain and my ability to think when I'm in a stressful situation - pushy taxi companies, strange environment, no easy access to Uber, a new currency. . . Whatever! It's only money.

I was a little surprised when I saw the access road to my accommodation - it took the driver a couple of tries to make it up through the gate! But the gardens and house made up for the difficult access. The AirBnb is actually a family home, built by the hostess, Eva, and her husband 30 years ago. They raised their two daughters there and after the daughters left home, a friend suggested that she rent out her rooms (with private bathrooms) on AirBnb.

The location is a little remote - no coffee shops nearby. I wanted to find a restaurant to eat a late lunch and since Eva was going into town to do some errands, she gave me a lift to a nearby seafood restaurant. I had an amazing seafood-filled chili poblano. I had to walk back about a kilometer along a path beside a busy highway. At first I was thinking I had made a mistake in chosing this place, but the gardens and the quiet seduced me. Lying in bed at night with only the sound of a breeze rustling the palm branches. . . is this Mexico?? No dogs? No roaring trucks or motorcycles? No loud music? No obnoxious fireworks? I may even come back next year for a week. I'm sure it wouldn't be difficult to catch a bus or an Uber into Cancun if I wanted a little noise and distraction.

The only glimpse I had of the beaches in Cancun!