Breakfast and Life Philosophy

It’s so unusual to me to wake up in the morning and to know that I have hours ahead of me with absolutely no work to do and no schedule that I must adhere to.

My work deadlines are still there. But due to circumstances beyond my control, I cannot do any job-related work other than check my email. So my explanations of how the company supports Ethernet ring protection and generic routing encapsulation tunneling will have to wait until I return from Mexico.

Since we are getting room and board from a local Mexican family, I have no chores to do other than make my bed. No grocery shopping. No cooking.

Since I am many miles and hours away from my adorable grandchildren, I cannot possibly visit them.

Unlike our previous visits to San Miguel de Allende, this visit is so short that we did not sign up for Spanish school. So there are no classes to attend and no homework to do.

Micha and I did linger over breakfast, conversing with our hosts in our broken Spanish. It’s easy enough to understand Rosa Maria and Christobal when they speak to us, particularly since they are used to speaking slowly and clearly for the many foreign students that they have housed over the years. But whatever grammar I learned when I went to classes is hiding in the recesses of my mind. Nevertheless, I do speak and even tackle difficult subjects.

We started off talking about simple things like the weather and recent films that we’ve seen. But before we finished, we’d also talked about evolution. Rosa Maria finds it too difficult to believe that humans could have evolved from bacteria and monkeys. Why would some monkeys turn into humans and other not? I say something about the more intelligent monkeys getting together with other intelligent monkeys and so forth. Micha points out that the process took millions of years.

I say it’s possible to believe in both God and evolution.

Perhaps the Earth was visited by extraterrestrials at some point in time. Rosa Maria and I agree that with so many planets in the universe, it is likely that there are some beings on other planets. Could it have been extraterrestrials who designed the pyramids—how curious that they appeared both in Egypt and in the Americas--and the Nazca lines.

What about those Easter Island statues? Micha points out.

Now the physicists are telling us about “the God particle”, the glue that mysteriously keeps all the other particles together. So many things that we do not understand.

There is not just one truth. Or perhaps there is, but that one truth is beyond the capacity of human beings to understand. So for us humans, it is natural that people see the same thing and explain it in different ways. Multiple religions for a single God or for a force of nature or for whatever makes our world go round.

Our Shortest Visit in San Miguel--No Excuses This Time

We are back in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. But this time, it’s just a short visit. Only five days. Micha decided to get his dental implants here, because it was less than half the price of what the procedure costs back in California. Yes, even with the additional costs of travel. He used frequent flyer points and the living expenses here are so low.

Micha flew down here by himself a couple of months ago for the painful part.

I felt sort of bad about not being with him to offer emotional support. But he took solace from the fact that I was earning money back home doing my contract job. Fortunately, through connections that we had made during previous visits, Micha arranged for room and board with a really nice Mexican family, who were as supportive as possible during that visit.

This time, we are staying with the same family and the dentist will be finishing her work. No pain for Micha. And plenty of free time in between dental appointments for us to enjoy San Miguel.


When we came here together for previous visits—three or four weeks at a time--we had a full schedule of Spanish classes or else I was busy all day at the International Writers’ Contest.

Now, we have no classes and no particular framework.

This morning, I walked Micha part-way to his dental appointment and bought the weekly bi-lingual periodical, Atencion San Miguel, to check out what’s going on in the Que Pasa calendar of events. Maybe this time, we will go on the organized walking tour of the historic sites. We’ve never done that, because we’ve always been busy in the mornings.

I had intended to do some of my technical writing work remotely, since we are not constantly going to be doing other activities. So after walking with Micha as far as the Jardin, I came back alone to the place we are staying and logged into my laptop computer, eager to work.

But even though the internet connection seemed to be running smoothly, I ran into some sort of problem accessing the company’s servers. I contacted the help desk, but it’s not a simple problem to resolve. So it looks like I won’t be doing any technical writing this week after all.

Now, I have no excuses not to do my “other” writing. The writing that I always say I cannot do because I am too tired from sitting at the computer doing my hours of paid technical writing.

Another Side of Mexico

When we told our friends that we were going to be spending a few weeks in Mexico, some of them asked, “Are you going to be staying at the beach?”

Most of them asked, “Is it safe?”

Well, we are not at a beach. There is actually more to Mexico than Cancun, Puerto Vallarta and Cabo.

And yes, we do feel very safe here.

In fact, this is our third visit to the same city within the past three years.

San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, is located within the state of Guanajuato.

If you are like we were just a few years ago, you might not realize that Mexico is a large country—almost three times the size of Texas--composed of 31 states and one federal district. Guanajuato is located in central Mexico and its capital city has the same name.

The climate here is temperate, similar to the weather we are familiar with in northern California.

It seems that this area is still safe from the drug wars that have been plaguing the part of Mexico closer to the USA border.

As before, my husband and I are taking classes in the morning at Academia Hispano. If only we could remember what we learn here when we get home!!

Despite the fact that I seem to forget everything I learn when we are gone, something must remain. When I’m in class, I understand everything that Lupita, our teacher, says. I can also respond quite easily to her questions. They put both of us in the class for “Level IV” this time, a promotion from our last session. Altogether, there are only three students in the class. Yep, just us, and Ann, a retired journalist.

Saved by a Garden Hose

The day didn’t start well. Orli had warned me that Gali, her toddler son, seemed be acting a bit “off” that morning. But I had promised that I would come again to help out today—despite the fact that I was still feeling depleted from helping out three days in a row at the beginning of the week while my son-in-law was sick.

“Why do you have to go?” my husband asked blithely as he made arrangements to meet with friends for Friday morning golf. “She should be able to manage with Gali and the baby. After all, we did.”

The truth is that he doesn’t remember what it was like when our own three children were that small. Not to mention the fact that, he had demonstrated the same cavalier attitude back then. But I do remember how exhausted I was. And the only reason that I managed on my own is that I had no one to call.

I slammed the door, gnashed my teeth, and rolled my eyes—wondering how I managed to stay married all these years. Then I headed out through freeway traffic once again for the hour drive to my daughter’s house. I had slept over for two nights at the beginning of the week and had brought an overnight bag with me today, too—just in case. But I was hoping that I would not have to use it.

The day was going to be hot, even in the East Bay. So I had brought along a bathing suit. Maybe we could all go to the pool, I thought optimistically. Orli could sit in the shade nursing Oz and I would play in the pool with Gali. That would allow Gali to expend his energy and then maybe he’d take a decent nap or go to sleep early.

But everything takes so much longer with a toddler and a newborn. Crying, nursing, spitting up. Packing up all the extra clothes and food. Diapers, wipes, suntan lotion, binkies, swim diaper and suit for Gali, snacks, food—he’s always hungry. It seems that both the boys are always hungry.

When all our gear was finally ready, Gali started to balk. Wanting to play with one toy and another. When our backs were turned, he started scattering play-dough all over the living room carpet.

“Time out!” my daughter declares. She’s been using more of these “time-outs” since Oz was born six weeks ago. Gali needs to help clean up.

He helps a little. And then volunteers excitedly, “I want to vacuum!”

“No,” my daughter explains, with an aside to me. “This is just a delaying tactic.”

The morning had been sifting away. It was getting close to noon by the time we strapped the kids into their carriers in the backseat of the car and set off for the pool. The baby is crying his head off, because he hates being put in the carseat. But he stops crying as soon as we reach the freeway. He likes the speed.

In the meantime, though, Gali has fallen asleep. Totally conked out. “He went to bed late last night,” Orli tells me, and got up early this morning.” She gets off at the nearest exit and we head back home. She’s not going to resist this opportunity for some downtime, even if it does mean a change in plans.

I carry Gali upstairs to his bed, making sure that his special doggie pillow and spare binkie are tucked right next to him.

Ozi is also still asleep in his carrier seat. So Orli and I get to eat lunch, both of us sitting down together at the table, in peace and quiet. Yay!!

But of course, the peace doesn’t last for long. Soon Ozi needs to eat again and then Gali wakes up. He hadn’t eaten lunch yet. So I heat up some pasta with cheese sauce that Orli had made previously and a veggie hotdog from Trader Joe. In a couple of minutes, I have a plate set for Gali with the sliced hotdog, pasta, mini carrots and edamame hummus dip. He likes everything on the plate, but insists of eating it as a picnic outside.

Why didn’t I just say yes immediately? That would have saved some trouble.

I must have been hoping that we could finish sooner if he sat at the kitchen table and then set off once again for our excursion to the pool.

In hindsight, I should have gone along immediately with his suggestion for eating it outside. That is what we ended up doing anyway.

I won’t go into all the other details that derailed our getting out of the house again in anything approaching a timely manner. But we finally did manage to leave and arrived at the park we had planned to go to in the morning only to find that the swimming pool was closed. Why? I don’t know. We didn’t get out of the car to read the details on the sign. Maybe the park just wanted to torture us.

Orli was not to be deterred. We had everything ready for the pool, so she headed off for a different pool—a longer distance away from her house. She had gone there with one of her sisters shortly before Oz was born and had pleasant memories of the day. It’s called “Stawberry Canyon Pool”. I conjured up images of a pool surrounded by grass and trees—maybe even wild strawberries.

When we got closer, I realized that it was one of Berkeley campus pools. There were no trees and very little grass in sight. The tiny lawn was closer to the lap pool section rather than the kiddie pool where I would have to go with Gali. For some reason, the weather was much cooler here than it had been in the Oakland Hills—even though it was just the next town over. We had dressed Oz for the heat and worried that he was cold. He started crying to be fed again, Orli couldn’t find a comfortable place to sit and nurse, and Gali was running around the concrete refusing to put on his bathing suit.

“This is not at all what I had in mind,” Orli bemoaned. It wasn’t what I had in mind either, I must admit.

“If you don’t cooperate,” Orli told Gali, “We are going to leave.” He didn’t cooperate and so leave we did. Back in the car with two crying kids. Our ten dollars admission fee (nonrefundable) and four dollars parking fee down the drain together with our spirits.

Oz continued to wail as Orli wended her way through slow traffic and Gali added to the cacophony by doing his own loud and increasingly louder imitation of baby talk.

Orli had planned to try one more option for an excursion—Lake Temescal. It was on our way back to her house and it had both a playground and a small beach area. But she warned Gali that we would go directly home unless he was willing to cease and desist from his ear-shattering , nerve-jangling mimicking of his baby brother.

Gali would not be persuaded to stop. He was on a roll. We stopped cajoling and headed straight back to the house, punishing both him and ourselves.

When Orli parked the car, Oz had stopped crying and was on the verge of sleep. I decided to snap his carrier seat into the baby carriage and take him for a walk to lull him fully to sleep. I also wanted this opportunity to get some distance from Gali.

Oz fell asleep and I took the opportunity to call a close girlfriend on my cellphone, “I’m losing it as a Grandma…”

She gave me a peptalk and I felt more relaxed as I headed back with Oz, who was just beginning to stir—probably ready to eat once again.

I found Orli and Gali having a snack in the shade of a tree in the front yard. Peace had been restored.

Soon, we transitioned to letting me help Gali water the garden with the hose. He loves to water the plants and we spent a long time doing that. He was reasonably content. His pants were soaked from the process, but that wasn’t a problem. In fact, his soaked pants were what gave me the idea that really salvaged the remainder of the day.

“Let’s take off all your clothes,” I said, “And then I’ll spray the water on you.” Gali liked the idea. I ran into the house for a big towel, then helped Gali off with his clothes. Soon he was prancing and running around in circles on the front lawn. He was laughing and declaring, “Look at me! I’m a butterfly!” It was already evening, but the sun was still strong as I looked through a rainbow at my beautiful red-headed grandson, his curls flying around his head, so happy to be alive.

Lost and Found

A couple of weeks ago, I thought I had lost my favorite pair of sunglasses. They weren’t expensive sunglasses. I stopped buying expensive sunglasses after buying one pair several years ago and losing them almost immediately. These were drugstore sunglasses that cost less than $20. But the frames rested comfortably on my nose and ears without slipping off my head and the lenses were dark enough to provide good protection when I was hiking in bright sunlight.

Where had I last seen them? I thought it must have been the evening that I met my daughter in Berkeley. We had tickets to the Berkeley Repertory Theatre’s production of Let Me Down Easy. And I hadn’t noticed until that afternoon that the play started at 7 PM, which meant that I had to drive up there after work through the worst part of the rush hour. By the time I reached the theatre, I was flustered, tired, and very thirsty. Shelli hadn’t arrived yet. So I slipped into a small Thai restaurant across the street and bought myself a sweet and icy Thai coffee. When I couldn’t find my sunglasses the following morning, I was sure that I must have left my sunglasses at the restaurant.

But a couple of days later, I found the sunglasses on my kitchen counter at home.

Not long afterward, I lost my favorite eyeglass pouch. It’s the one that I usually use for my sunglasses. I like its convenient strap, so that I can hang it around my neck when I don’t have any pockets and don’t feel like carrying a bag. I like its hand-embroidered fanciful bird design. And I like that it was a souvenir gift that Shelli brought me from her travels in South America.

Where had I last seen it? It was last Thursday morning, when I was rushing to meet a friend for an early morning hike. I had put on my sunglasses when I was getting out of the car. Apparently, I hadn’t hooked the strap over my neck. Later, I looked on the floor of the car and couldn’t find the pouch. Dismayed, I assumed that it must have fallen into the street when I was getting out of the car.

But this morning, I opened the passenger door of the car to put something on the seat and saw my favorite eyeglass pouch nestled between the edge of seat and the door. It must have been hidden under the seats for the past week and finally gotten shaken to the side.

Such a little thing. And yet, it made me really happy to find it again.

These two incidents happening so close together make me wonder whether there is some sort of message.

This afternoon, my manager called me into a private office and told me that they are running short of funds. Since I am a contractor rather than staff—and especially since I am only a part-time contractor—it makes sense that the easiest way for them to save money is to do without my services. He didn’t ask me to leave immediately, which I appreciated. I hate when you have to sneak out like a criminal without telling anyone that you are leaving.

He simply notified me that they won’t need me anymore after the end of next week. Things might change in a couple of months. But then again, they might not.

On the one hand, this is really good timing for me to get a break from work. Excellent timing, in fact. My daughter, Orli, is about to give birth to her second son. I was planning to take off some time in any case to help out after the baby is born. Of course, I had been thinking of time as a matter of days. Not weeks and months.

But, at least this way I don’t have to worry that my time off will interfere with any deadlines at work. Those deadlines won’t be my responsibility.

I assured my manager that this decision was fine with me, agreed that I would finish things off neatly, turn in my badge and laptop, and be willing to come back and help again should they want me to return in a couple of months.

Considering that I am at an age when most of my friends have already retired AND considering that I really do want to be free to spend time with my family, I find it difficult to understand why I started to feel bad about this as soon as I got back to my cubicle.

Do you think that this too fits into my recent pattern of lost and found?

An Exploratory Evening Walk in Aruba

Did a little more exploring on Wednesday evening. The timeshare resort where we are staying is in the section of the island, called Nord. I wanted to see the section with the “High Rise Hotels”. They even call the section by that name.

That section is just a mile away from our timeshare, close to where our timeshare shuttle drops us off at the beach. During the middle of the day it’s too hot to walk that distance – even with the breeze.

Once the sun goes down, it’s a lot more comfortable to walk. And I was feeling a bit less tired today, though I’m still suffering from a chest cold. I enjoyed walking with Micha and getting a better look at the strange assortment of Chinese mini-markets (it seems that all the groceries are run by Chinese), laundries (also run by Chinese), neighborhood bars, defunct and open restaurants serving Chinese, Japanese-Caribbean, Italian, Dutch, and other food.

We walked to the beach that was near the Westin and Rui hotels. It looked very nice, maybe a little nicer than the Moomba beach that we get taken to by our timeshare shuttle. But Moomba beach is nice, too. The water here is so calm that you can swim in it as if it were a swimming pool.

After walking on the beach, we headed back and stopped on the way at a surprisingly good Thai restaurant. Sawasdee didn’t look like much from the outside. But it was decorated very nicely inside. Looking at all the pictures and statues of Buddha and elephants reminded us of our own trip to Thailand last year.

We ordered two dishes to share. The steamed fish with ginger sauce was delicious. The second dish – stir-fried basil eggplant with chicken—was more mediocre. But I was satisfied with the meal and enjoyed the walk home, too. Full moon, strong breeze, but still pleasantly warm.

Welcome Party at the Caribbean Palm Village Resort and Bon Bini Festival at Fort Zoutman in Oranjestad, Aurba

This is not one of our adventure vacations even though we are staying in a location that we’ve never visited before. The main advantage of being in Aruba right now rather than someplace else is the weather. It’s perfectly balmy every day. With a gentle breeze that ruffles our hair.

We are spending our days at Moomba beach or at the resort pools. Doing a little swimming and a lot of sitting in the shade, reading books and just relaxing.

On Tuesday evening, we attended two welcome parties. The first one was held at the resort. They had an “open bar” (for one hour), free appetizers, and some games. I didn’t volunteer for any of the games, but I didn’t make a fuss when the activity director put a hula hoop over my head and pulled me over for the hula hoop competition. I can usually keep a hula hoop going for a reasonable period of time. But not this hula hoop. The winner was a teenage girl – the only one of four of us who managed to get the hoop going at all.

Afterwards, Micha and I took a taxi into the main city of Oranjestad and went the island’s Bon Bini festival held weekly at Fort Zoutman, which also houses the National Historical Museum. “Bon Bini” means welcome in Papiamento, which is the local language. It’s a mixture of Spanish and Dutch, but it’s considered a language rather than a dialect because all classes of society speak it. They also speak English, Spanish, and Dutch. It’s a very multi-lingual society.

The entrance fee for the Bon Bini festival was nominal and I was able to buy a tasty Caribbean supper of chicken over rice with plantains and salad for just $6.50. There were different groups playing typical Aruban music and doing Aruban dances, including one group dressed up for Mardi Gras.