Don't take my word for it....

Every year, on our anniversary, we like to visit a new place. In fact, it was on our 10th anniversary in 1998 that we first visited Mexico. And now, thirteen years later, we are living here! We wanted to make our first Mexican anniversary special but we took a chance visiting Puebla. We had not heard much about it, and what we had heard wasn't great.

"Just another big city."

"The historic center is small."

"Nothing special."

But it was hard to resist a mere two hour bus ride...and a hotel that looked very chic at a great bargain, so off we went. We found Puebla to be one of the most beautiful, unusual, and charming cities we have ever visited. It is famous for its cooking (especially mole sauce, which can contain over fifty spices), Talavara tiles decorating the buildings, and churches, churches, and more churches!

Every single block seems to have its own church. One is more gorgeous than the next. They are filled with crystal, gold and beautiful fabric. I thought that they couldn't possibly be filled on Sunday, but they were.

For our Saturday night anniversary dinner,we tried to eat at a restaurant we had read about. We entered through a living room where a "mature" woman was singing to a group of people...maybe her...friends? We sat in the dining room, ordered drinks and I asked for chicken in mole sauce. The cook started hollering at the waiter who refused to acknowledge her...but finally we learned there was no mole. The waiter then disappeared. After waiting for about fifteen minutes, we left...interrupting the senior singer for the second time. We found another restaurant on a charming little street. There was yet another singer, but at least she was young, very cool, and had a good voice. Plus, they had chicken with mole! Ole!

After the cleansing rain of the evening, the weather on Sunday was gorgeous. As we were walking in the main square, with its incredible cathedral, we thought we heard a band playing. We were right! What kind of city has a free band concert on Sunday morning? Puebla!

And, because we were in Puebla, and because it was the season for Chiles en Nogada, we stopped at a tiny restaurant to try this speciality.

Puebla is...colorful, religious and traditional. It has great food, beautiful architecture and a lively zocolo. Even though it is only two hours from Mexico City, it has a completely different atmosphere.

We are so glad that we didn't miss seeing this wonderful city!

We don't need no education...we don't need no thought control

I am fascinated that the government and some of the people of Arizona want to build their own wall to keep Mexican people from entering their state. So, I just went to the website "build the border fence.com" and I was very happy to see that on-line "live" help is available to those wishing to donate (apparently many people want to know if their donations will be tax-deductible). However, when I clicked on, the notice said the operator was "off-line". Hmmmm...Maybe it should have said the operator was "out of line" or "out of his or her mind".

It astounds me that people are paying money to a build a fence that doesn't even SURROUND the state just to keep Mexican immigrants out! Oh, I know what you're going to say..."illegal immigrants, Jo Anne".

Well, I just bet the Iroquois, Algonquin, Hopi, Navajo, Apache, Creek, Blackfoot, Lakota and others like them only wish they had thought of this "wall" thing back in wagon train days. The only ones who seem to have thought of it were Sheriff Bart and the Cisco Kid in "Blazing Saddles". And they built the same kind of barrier Arizona is planning...not exactly "complete". So, the tribes I mentioned, and all the others, owned the land, right? Or, if they owned it and didn't know they owned it, the United States of America made sure they knew by signing treaty after treaty with the tribes and promptly breaking them. Because we, and I'll just call us and our ancestors "white immigrants", deserved all that land, didn't we? We all learned this in seventh or eighth grade. It was called "Manifest Destiny". The United States used the same argument to convince reluctant citizens to fight the Mexican-American war where much of Mexico including present-day Arizona became part of the United States. We were happy to have Mexicans here back then!

When white immigrants formed wagon trains and found the other people, those who actually lived in the west, in their way, they did what they had to do with the full support of the United States government. Every treaty was broken, lands were stolen, tribes were forced to leave their homes and walk hundred and hundreds of miles, they were imprisoned without sufficient food, water or shelter, families were separated, people were ordered to live on lands where they couldn't hunt or grow crops, and, at Wounded Knee, they were simply murdered in cold blood, sick old men and woman, crying babies, little toddlers. The trail of blood in the snow is etched in the mind of every Lakota person who lives on the Pine Ridge Reservation, the poorest place in the United States. But white immigrants had to do these things. It was "Manifest Destiny" and nothing else mattered.

How did it happen that simply coming here by ship from Europe and being white gave people the right to steal from, push aside, and even murder the people who already lived here?

I find it especially ironic that it is Arizona that is so darn mad about brown Mexicans coming onto "their" land. Arizona is home to at least twenty Native American tribes and reservations. So, I guess my response to "THE WALL" would be this: when every white person in that state who lives on land once owned, awarded by treaty, or occupied by any member of any of the tribes remaining in Arizona returns what he or his ancestors stole as ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS...then the wall against the other illegal immigrants can be built.

Quick...name an ancient city larger than Rome...

Friday night we were invited to a birthday party for one of Ken's classmates. We mentioned that we were heading to the Teotihuacan pyramids, about an hour's bus ride north of D.F., the next day. So, this being Mexico, the hosts had a German guy who was the friend of the wife's sister staying there and the sister, his friend, had promised to take him, but now she couldn't so could we? Sure we could. The friend was named Felix and was a mathematician from Dresden, visiting Mexico for the first time.

When we arrived at the pyramids, we decided to hire a guide. The very first one we met said he spoke both English and German...and he had no idea those were the languages we spoke! Of course, Felix spoke perfect English, so that was the language our guide used. Our guide's name was Tonatiui, and he worked with his dad and brother as part of Gorila's Tours. "Gorila" is the nickname of his dad, who has been working at the Pyramids since he was a boy of seven.

Here are Felix and Tonatiuh at the beginning of our day together.

Ken and Felix did the climbing...I was having a clumsy day, so enjoyed the views from the valley floor!

We learned that Teotihuacan was larger in both size and population than Rome at the same time period. It seems to me that every U.S. citizen who can afford it has traveled to see the Coliseum and the Roman Forum...but how many of us even knew that our neighboring country held a treasure like this?

Living in Mexico, I find myself thinking back to my school days...what did we learn about Mexico? My recollection is: nothing. We learned about U.S. history, and New York State. We learned about the Acropolis in Athens, the Coliseum in Rome, the Eiffel Tower, the Tower of London, and of course the pyramids in Eqypt. But about the astounding ancient sites in Mexico? Nothing. And so, I never realized that Mexico was important historically, culturally, artistically, or in any other way. And I fear that even now U.S. schoolchildren are being taught the same way.

In Teotihuacan, we were introduced to a world built on mathemetical principles...every single stairway, building, step and stone was placed for a reason. The seasons, the days, the equinox, the stars...the buildings and all of their parts were perfectly aligned to make sense of the world. This was an important place, so impressive that the Aztecs believed that the gods had created the universe here.

This is the fifth such site Ken and I have visited in Mexico...and before we came here, we couldn't have named one of them. Each has been awesome...not in the "hey dude, that's awesome" way, but in the real sense of the word. I am awed at the size of the pyramids, the beauty of the carvings, the perfection the builders achieved so long ago, and most awesome of all, the fact that these sites still exist! At Teotihuacan, archeologists are working every day to discover more.

And, this being Mexico, after our tour we were invited to our guide's home for some mezcal. Mr. Gorila drove us to their home in the car he calls "the red Mercedes".

As we bumped over dirt roads, and Gorila honked, hollered and waved at everyone, Felix frantically searched for his seatbelt. "Don't worry," Gorila said, "you're in my town!" "I might be in your town," said Felix, "but I am still a German."

One of Gorilla's sons drove us to the bus station in the real tour car the group uses...a beautiful, air-conditioned SUV. (www.gorilatours.com)

When I took Felix's photo on top of one of the pyramids, he told me he was embarrassed by his camera. He had brought an older one with him, he told me, because so many friends had warned him that his good camera would be stolen in Mexico. "Now, after just a few days here," he said, "I am ashamed that I believed these things about Mexico. The people here are wonderful."

Like so many others, Felix had heard nothing good about Mexico...like so many others, Felix was amazed at just how good this country and its people are.

If you come to Mexico City, I urge you to spend a day in the awesome, inspiring and mysterious place called Teotihuacan. And to make sure to get a ride in the red Mercedes.

Stop...look...listen...

Like so many people before me, I hated coming to the end of "Bel Canto" by Ann Patchett. However, I feel very lucky that I waited so long to read this book. I had heard how wonderful it was. Somehow, I must have known that I shouldn't read it until I could practice some of the lessons this book teaches so effortlessly.

It is a simply story. A famous soprano is invited to perform in a poor South American country for the birthday of a Japanese industrialist and opera lover. The leaders of the country hope to impress this man so much that he will build his next factory in their capital. Important people from all over the world are invited to an exquisite dinner and performance at the magnificent home of the vice president. They are all taken hostage by a rag-tag "Peoples' Army". The women, except the soprano, are quickly released.

As one day follows another, as days turn into weeks, the captives, both hostages and guerillas, discover that without the past to fret about and with the future completely unknown, they can fully experience life in the present.

These people are not on vacation, for if they were they would still have that nagging sense of what they should be doing...finding the perfect restaurant...upgrading to a suite...visiting that history museum they have no interest in. The hostages must do the opposite of what they have done their entire lives; they must refrain from making decisions. They are powerful people with important jobs and one by one, they discover that living in the here and now is not only liberating, but exhilarating.

Sometimes, life forces us to live in the present tense. New mothers lose their own lives for a while. They cannot sleep or go to the grocery store or even wash their hair without first making sure the baby is safe and content. If we have to recuperate from surgery, or are very ill, our lives can stop feeling like our own. We have to listen to our doctors; we have to ask our loved ones for help. We are humbled. I suspect that cloistered monks and nuns must live in the present far more than most of us. I know that dogs understand how to do it.

In "Bel Canto" the characters discover many things they enjoy doing...cooking, cleaning, learning, teaching, gardening, exercising. When captivity provides the freedom to be who they truly are, their lives become more simple and small, but much more rich and deep.

Moving to Mexico has been the most liberating and exhilarating experience I have ever had. My days and weeks belong only to me. I can fill them - or not - as I desire. So, I dance, I learn Spanish, I write, I walk, I pray, I take pictures, I read, I cook, and I color. With crayons.

So many of us spend our time, our "present tenses", in search of lower golf scores, better jobs, larger homes,

newer cars, having the perfect wedding, getting into a smaller size, having a boy and a girl, and my goal: finding the perfect lipstick. We know how to remain very busy...in fact, Americans seem especially uncomfortable having "nothing to do".

As soon as my Spanish exams end, tomorrow, I am going to treat myself to a week of...less. Less everything. I don't know if I will discover something that I love, the way the characters did in "Bel Canto". But I do have the feeling that I will come away from the week with something... more.