Cuando regrese

When I get home, I can`t wait to see everyone.
Spanish lessons are over, I have left Cuernavaca, and just have tonight in Mexico, D.F.
My Continental flight leaves at 9:40am, Mexico to Houston, then a connection to Boston. I will take Concord Tails to Portland.
My e-ticket and passport are in my daypack, and my backpack is stuffed to the brim with surprises for friends and family. There are six pounds of Mexican coffee, a couple bottles of a beverage made from cactus (without the worm), a dozen mini-bottles of salsa, chocolate for cooking, and lots of artisan crafts and silver from the magical marketplaces of Tasco, Tepoztlan, Cuernavaca and beyond. I bought an extra gym bag to use as a carry on for all the breakables.
(I`d love to be more specific about the gifts, but the people receiving them are reading!)

Private taxi will arrive in Fuentes de Pedregal at 6:40am. I estimate an hour or so to cross the city to arrive at the airport two hours in advance. Wish I could just blink and be home. Have received warm phone calls from Mother Susan and Roommate Anne. They delivered messages and stories from other friends and family, all preparing for Christmas.

Yesterday was December 12th, el Dia de Fiesta de la Virgen de Guadelupe. If I have the story correct, an angel appeared in front of an indian (Mayan) girl from Guadelupe with a message from God, to build a special church in the area that is now Mexico City. This was in the late sixteenth century, post conquest, during Nueva España. The bishop didn´t believe the girl and insisted that she bring proof. The girl returned to the spot where she first saw the angel, and voilà, the angel reappeared delivering a bouquet of roses to the girl. Upon seeing the roses, the bishop was astonished and commisioned a basilica to be build, per the angel`s instructions. Today uniquely celebrated throughout all of Mexico, families visit churches and cathedrals at all hours of the day on the 12th. Fireworks are heard all day and evening. Fiestas are held in the homes of friends and neighbors, where lots of food is consumed and music is enjoyed. There are statues of the virgen seen in the entrances of many homes, surrounded with candles, tinsel, and christmas lights.
I woke up at 4:30am to join my host family for a service in the church. Maestro Pineda`s band "La Tuna Minerva de Cuernavaca" was asked to open the services with a half hour of traditional folk music for this special occasion. Before arriving at the church, we went to the home of one of the band members to literally "seranade" his daughter, Lupita, in celebration of her Día de Santo. Her name sake is Guadelupe, thus, she celebrates both her birthday and the day of the saint after which she has been named (kind of like a second, holy birthday to honor your namesake). All very marvelous actually. I joined a dozen men with mandolins, guitars, and accordian in the street at the foot of the window in front of the house of a teenage girl named after the Virgin of Guadelupe. Lupita was thrilled!
The church service was brief, mostly the half hour of music that everyone seemed to know and respond with enthusiastic applause. Now 6:30am, the church bell rang to draw in anyone who missed the musical interludes but would be joining for the sermon. During the pause, we enjoyed cookies, wafers and homemade chocolate caliente, served by the damas de la iglesia.
Little did I know, this would be a day of feasting (hense the words fiesta, festive, festival... a day of eating food). Back to the home of Lupita to enjoy a breakfast of tomales, beans, rice, quesadillas, cheese, chile salsas, creams, and an all natural fruit punch served hot with a dozen ingredients (such as raisin, apple, and several names I didn´t recognize). The instruments resurfaced in this large livingroom. Fortunately(?), I have taken a few lessons in ballroom dancing. I swept Hostmother Maru around the pista, and then Adriana, the five of Guillermo, el buen amigo del Maestro Pineda.
Thoroughly sleepy in the car, I must have missed that we weren`t actually on our way home. I awoke to a familiar site, we were entering the complex with "la Tortuga" (the turtle, real name is Arturo) who lives with his dear mother, Carmen. I came here my first day out with the Pineda family. Each band member has a nickname, which is helpful, because there is more than one Arturo in the band. We enjoyed a brunchtime feast and lots of freshly hand ground Mexican highland coffee. The are proud of their coffee in these parts! The rich aromatic wafts reached my nostils and I couldn´t resist... couldn`t resist twice! Unaccustomed to consuming coffee, this sustained me for the day. More goodies and tortillas stuffed with aguacates, jitomates y crema were handed around. The children were running about in excitement, playing in the small, dry front garden. The old siamese cat begrudgingly left the coach with some prodding as the house filled up with guests. The too-large-for-the-room blond wooden table seated eight with her chairbacks of inlaid exotic woods, plus the wrap-around green leather coach provided room for all.
In the afternoon, we returned home for a siesta, but I couldn´t sleep so watched a bit of t.v. and checked emails (but have had no success in writing or responding to emails... some online javascript software issue? anyone´s guess!).
Around 4pm we were packing the car again to head south of Cuernavaca, to the home of another Lupe. The Turtle´s sister, Lupe also deserved a fiesta (any excuse, mind you!) and her husband and children were so kind and hospital. It was a garden party, surrounded by flowering plants and fruit trees, of papaya, guava, limes, lemons, chilis, and plátanos. The tequila and Corona were being poured liberally alongside platillos of lime and salt. Soon the grill was lit using blocks of compressed sugar cane. I imagine the roasted meat was sweetened by this process. A stewed conejo appeared on the table, as did sliced hicoya, pepinos, queso, y mucho más.
The children played chase, hide and go seek and various other means to amuse themselves as we adults chatted into the night. Once again, the sites and sounds of fireworks filled the night sky while we were seranaded by the quintet mini-version of the Tuna Minerva. Two eight stringed mandolins, two six stringed guitars and one four stringed electric bass (not exactly an original folk instrument!). An enormous chocolate cake arrived from the bakery, gooey and mouth watering. The men sang me a farewell song with verses that included hopes for a safe journey home and an anticipated return.
The drive home was quiet. We were tired but content. In the darkness of the house, we gathered around the creche-nativity scene and christmas tree, holding back a few tears in anticipation for my morning departure, choking on a few words we said our goodnights. I embraced Maru, with remarks of deep gratitude for her kindness. "Que duermas con los angelitos", sleep with angels.

Andrés and Maestro Arturo saw me off al Terminal de Autobuses Pullman. With hugs and handshakes and watery eyes, they waved me off for the 9:30 commuter to México, D.F.

My sandals and shorts are now packed deep in my baggage. My fleece ski-bonnet and windbreaker will have to get me home. I anticipate a shock to my system upon landing in Boston tomorrow. I have four charming miniature ornaments made of straw and red and green lace to hang on my own tree, gifts from Maru to Anne and I: a candy cane, a christmas tree, a wreath, and a star... to shine my way home.
Feliz Navidad a todos.