A song for a taco

Wednesday we played at JJ's, a local outdoor restaurant known for its fish tacos. It wasn't the first time live music had been performed at JJ's, there are always wandering minstrels coming in to do a couple of songs for pesos. But this time we set up as a band, with two guitars and three singers. We had the usual tableful of drunken geezers front and center, plus various familiar faces. A techie friend showed up and stayed for the evening, and by the end of the evening he had volunteered to be our new sound man, a huge bonus.

It was a good place for me to break in a set of seven songs, except that by the time I got started, I was soaking wet. The humidity that night made it feel like a sauna, and the only fan was broken so that it continually drooped, cooling knees but little else. I have threatened to show up in a bathing suit and sarong next Wednesday. The guys complained now and then, but didn't really seem to mind as much as I did.

Photos: We all eventually looked like we'd gone swimming in our clothes, but the guys didn't let the heat spoil their fun. JJ's in the center, wearing his famous apron that says "Many have eaten here...few have died."

Then last night we were at the Fiesta Hotel palapa bar, and conditions were considerably improved, thanks to a breeze that came up from the bay. My set went well, especially when Leslie added her harmony to a couple of songs, and though I forgot lyrics a few times, I was able to finesse past my bloopers to the point that only my cohorts were aware of them (I hope). They are so patient with me! It makes me want to practice more and do better next time.

Making my heart dance

Every year the city of Guaymas celebrates one of their proudest events on July 13, when the local militia vanquished a fleet of French pirates from the bay. The Battle of Guaymas is celebrated with numerous events, and one of the most spectacular takes place on the malecón, where folklorico dancers put on a free performance. I had to see it, so I contacted my friend Alejandra, who's usually up for an adventure, and we made our plans.

We got there early enough to watch another local folklorico group, Mazzocoba, doing dances from Northern Mexico in outfits that reminded me of the play "Oklahoma." I took photos, well aware that the flying skirts and whirling bodies would yield little more than interesting blurs.

Then we were treated to some old rock and roll by a well-seasoned 70s group called La Ruqueada, which roughly translates to "geezer." They did some Spanish songs including one of my new favorites, "Si No Te Hubieras Ido (If you had not gone away), and offered several golden oldie US favorites including a Creedence Clearwater medley I couldn't resist singing along with.

While we were wandering the area waiting for more dancing to start, we found members of Tradición Mestiza from Hermosillo backstage putting the finishing touches to their costumes and milling about waiting for the geezers to finish. I wanted photos of them in their splendiferous outfits, and Ale asked them to stand under the light.

These folks are trained in the art of being photographed. In a heartbeat they had formed tiers, arranged themselves by height with the Aztecs in their four-foot feathered headdresses at the back, flashing their most beguiling smiles... when I had all the shots I wanted, they gathered me into their group and began taking photos of me with various dancers. I guess as the token gringa I was an oddity.

I couldn't ask for a more agreeable companion for cultural expeditions like this: besides being wonderful company, she has a wealth of knowledge about various regions of Mexico and their history, music and dance. We watched Aztec spiritual dances, followed by regional dances from Campeche, Sinaloa, Campeche, Vera Cruz, Guerrero and others. Most entertaining was the frolicking of the Chihuahua dances, which reminded me again of "Oklahoma." These young people are majoring in dance at the University of Hermosillo, bound for a life of professional performing and touring. I wish them buena suerte y felicidad.

Joyful day

"Happiness, knowledge, not in another place, but this place, not for another hour, but this hour...
— Walt Whitman

Putting myself in a frame of mind for celebrating, I'm listening to these songs while scrolling through a dozen ecards and Facebook posts from far-flung friends. Later, a guitar lesson and lunch with the girls, and cherry cheesecake.

Alexandro Fernandez (que guapo!) singing my favorite Mexican birthday song, Las Mañanitas, just for me


Stevie Wonder's song for Martin Luther King, Jr. LOVE the chorus on this one, can't help but sing along


The Beatles' birthday song makes me want to jump up and dance

Chillin' again

About once every six months, we reach a point when we have to drive up to the States. It was all business as usual last week—picking up accumulated mail, renewing drivers' licenses, buying a sump pump in preparation for flooding, arranging for a new mail delivery service that may make it possible for us to make this trip even less often. Hitting Trader Joe's for chocolate and Dr. Bronner's soap.

"Fun" in Spanish is "divertido." Something that diverts one from the daily grind. Anything that might divert us from our schedule was not to be indulged, and that included anything fun.

But fun waylaid us on the road anyway. I'll get to that in a minute.

First, the not-fun part. I planned to take my Ford up and get it registered in AZ, but it was not to be.  We  got about 40 miles before the air conditioner died. With visions of sweltering at the border for two hours, we turned around and came home to get our other car. So many drivers in Mexico roll down their windows and tough it out all summer, and I don't know how they do it. I would be wilted within a block or two and prostrate in a mile.

Did I mention we were taking not only our dog, Chica, but a couple of puppies? They were going to a fostering organization that works with PetSmart to arrange adoptions on Adopt-Me Saturdays. Bubba and Jazmin are brother and sister, beautiful beagle-like, leggy young dogs with boundless energy.  They behaved beautifully throughout the trip, and were so quiet we sometimes forgot they were with us. No barfing, no pooping, very little complaining. You might say we were bringing a lot of fun with us for some lucky new owners, but for us it was more like transporting livestock.

Now here comes the fun part: on the side of the road next to the north lanes of the highway, we spotted a giant black spider! This metallic arachnid constructed from an old Volkswagen bug shell and eight long metal rods loomed almost 12 feet tall. There's a sign in front of it that says "Exeter" and some text we couldn't read at 70 mph. We don't know if the sign was related to the bug; it looked like a political sign.

Later came fun of the white-knuckle variety. On Hwy. 19 south of Tucson we were overtaken by a fierce hailstorm that turned into monsoon rain. From news reports on Channel 13, I learned later that our hailstorm moved west to become a freakish haboob in Phoenix. Here's what the haboob looked like, rolling over Phoenix. End-of-the-world fans were ecstatic.

Coming home two days later we watched carefully for the roadside spider, and I managed to get this somewhat blurry photo with my iPhone.  It's out in the middle of nowhere, south of Hermosillo. The only landmark is a shrine to San Francisco nearby. 

Who created this wacky bit of roadside kitsch, and why? For that matter, how? I do hope it's securely stabilized up there, and well-fastened to the ground. Imagine, if you will,  driving Hwy. 15 in a powerful windstorm, when a huge black spider tumbles onto the road in front of you...

Back home, first thing yesterday morning we rushed my car to a mechanic to deal with the air conditioner. Turns out it was some problem with the compressor, and it cost about $85 to get it working perfectly again. When I picked it up in the afternoon, I cranked it up to Max Cool and chilled all the way to the market, where I grabbed two liters of coconut ice cream. Aaaahhhh.

Some save dogs, some save whales

A young female humpback saved from fishermen's gill nets in the Sea of Cortez rewards her rescuers with a victory dance. An awesome video (and a good example of why I hate gill nets).

One Dog at a Time

Cora and Dora

In our community are a number of people, mostly women, who rescue and foster dogs, trap them and have them innoculated and neutered, and seek out good homes for them. There are times when we know of so many needy dogs that we feel overwhelmed, and it's tempting to take the attitude of many of our friends, that it's hopeless, best to look the other way. Dog rescue can be discouraging: some are sick, injured or just not very pretty, some come pregnant or with litters of puppies, some show little promise of becoming socialized enough to fit into a home and family.

The only way to approach this enormous need without burning out is by taking it on "one dog at a time."

Sonia

In summertime there is only a small core of norteamericanos and the population is mostly Mexican. Mention homeless street dogs to a Mexican, he'll either look a little fearful, or shake his head sadly and make some fatalistic remark to the effect that nothing can be done. But we have an organization here that specializes in raising funds to spay and neuter dogs and cats, with the goal of keeping the population manageable. SBPA has no animal shelter, doesn't arrange adoptions or rescue animals. But they are very good at what they do: providing certificates for free neutering to those who can't afford it for their pets, and for people who actively trap feral animals for that purpose. Many of them may end up back on the streets, but at least they will not reproduce. And the lucky ones will be fostered and possibly adopted.

As for the shelter where I volunteered, it lasted a scant four months before the principals involved split up and it was closed down. The dogs were wonderful, but the humans just couldn't get along. What's left are individuals who take in dogs and foster them, hoping to find them "forever homes." Sometimes we succeed, sometimes we end up keeping them, sometimes we think we've located good homes and the adopters change their minds.

Coco

Last week one couple adopted Coco, a beautiful little female and were about to take her on vacation but found out she's having a litter in a week. Now they don't want her anymore, with or without her babies. A woman was fostering Sonia and found someone interested in adopting her. When the prospective owner came to see Sonia, the dog had escaped and is now roaming the streets again.

Still, we've come a long way from the bad old days in San Carlos, when the local police would go out and shoot any street dogs roaming free after the snowbirds left town.

Charlie

This morning I started a Facebook page called "San Carlos Loves Dogs," for the purpose of featuring dogs in our community that are being fostered and are available for adoption. Will it make a difference? Maybe, if enough people know about it, and go back now and then to view the latest additions. We'll be focusing for now on dogs, though I can envision eventually a separate Facebook page called "San Carlos Loves Cats." Why not?