Two Days to Remember!/Dos Dias Recordar!

Las Palabras: El dia de lost Muertos - day of the dead; Camposanto - cemetary; peregrinacion - pilgrimage; Los tiburones - the sharks; El pescador - the fisherman; Los suenos - dreams; Los arboles - the trees; Bahia - bay; Ron - rum; Saludos - salutations; Ni modo - not important 

Last weekend Yelapa comemorated El dia de Los Muertos with our annual peregrinacion, laying of wreaths and a mass at the camposantos.  Many internationals are also buried here, including Ruby, whose grave is attended by Brenda in lieu of her absent family and my old pal, Olga, who had a marker placed by her friend, Livier and old, noble Simon to name a few.

The day always makes me think of where my own remains will rest.  I have said often to my friend, Rosa, that I would like my ashes to be put out in the bay to swim among the tiburones.  Ojala that will be my final destination but since I won't really be there anymore I don't suppose it matters except to those of my friends who will remember each year.  To the predominately Catholic-Mexican population afterdeath/afterlife is pretty clear:  Death and judgment.  If that is so, I am hoping for only a stint in purgatory and not the eternal stay in you know where.

There is a lingering afterlife for our internationals in Yelapa.  Years may pass but people continue to speak of long gone friends - only recently we donated the remaining monies left by Sam Harrison to be used for a primary school cafeteria.  Many still refer to the Casa de Los Suenos as the Shapiro place and Los Arboles as the cat lady, Peggy Mandel's old place.  So many others are remembered in stories from the past and no, we will never (how could we?) forget Bobby Jones, Jaime Crawford and most recently Rich Shortridge, el pescador or Odile with her lovely singing voice and so many others.  

Some of our old pals remain in our memories because of their send-offs from Yelapa.  Jaime, King of Yelapa, had his ashes spread in our little bahia by old friends who flew via our parachute ride.  Each had a small packet of ashes much like bundles of rice at a wedding.  My pal, Frankie, said she was so worried about getting up there and back down safely that she just tossed the bundle.  A huge fiesta followed with many remembrances and humorous anecdotes so that you left feeling you knew Jaime even if you didn't.

One of our more memorable strewing of the ashes is one I know I could never forget. Billy Ray's ashes were brought back to Yelapa by his cousin Toodie and his best friend here, Alan, flew his parasail, spreading the ashes, back and forth across the bay in front of the playa where we all gathered for the traditional saludos.  A small altar is arranged with a photo of the departed.  A bottle of Ron was available and everyone was invited to have a drink and offer a toast to Billy Ray.  The most memorable part of the celebration was as Alan flew back and forth the ashes blew back on him, covering legs, hair and bare chest.  I know it was not funny, but it was, in that irreverent, only slightly macabre humor found even during rituals in Yelapa.  We were all absolutely rolling in the sand laughing.  No, we won't ever forget Billy Ray, though his actual dying was slow and so sad.

Lately a pal told me that a bit of ashes went along for the Rolling Stones latest tour - Gus loved their music and went to many of their concerts, even after death. I recall Don Beto, one of the patriarchs of the pueblo, lying in state in an elaborate coffin in his home, elders sitting with the body, mass being said outside on the patio and Rocio's youngest climbing on top of the coffin to try to figure out what was up with Don Beto.  It could break your heart to see her put a kiss on the dome where his head lay except for the fact that it was so spontaneous, so cute and that she wanted me to give him a kiss too!  Simon, who was embalmed in Puerto Vallarta was brought back for the memorial prior to his burial and was somehow taken to Byron's house instead of his and Gloria's place which was at another, higher elevation (methinks the men carrying the coffin would go no farther)  The only problem was no one told Byron, who can be a class act when necessary and took it in stride.

I have often pointed out that things sometimes do not go quite as we planned due to our location, etc., but in spite of logistics we all seem to have developed some method for just accepting life, death and moving along no matter what calamity may occur and the grace to laugh through our tears at our losses.  We love our long history of colorful characters, both Mexican and International.  Some will say, ni modo.  I just remind myself that this is not a picture postcard perfect pueblo! 

Just briefly I must commemorate the Tuesday election of President-elect Barak Obama!  My neighbor, Carolina and I watched the returns here in my casita, cheering and counting - when did we forget how to add and subtract - and celebrating.  I admit I liked him but he was not my first choice; I thought we would be electing the first woman.  It wasn't until the following day, while still glued to the TV, that I had my "minority" moment and the realization of what this meant to me as a minority overwhelmed me.  I was raised like Obama, to believe I could do or be anything if I worked for it.  I know the rewards of hard work are not always rewarded fairly and though I look back on most of my life with pride and gratitude for my own opportunities I know this is not everyone's experience.  But larger than my feelings were the feelings of people from all over the country and all over the world.  I really don't think I can ever remember any other time in my now long life when so many in the world  were so jubilant, so together in the moment and so hopeful for the future of America.  Ojala this hope will be fulfilled!

Obamanos!

Maria