tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31717358837600780772024-03-13T04:12:09.199-07:00Traveling Simplyfamily adventuring stories involving bicycles, backpacks and most recently MexicoLaural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-30108697798209468842009-03-01T11:29:00.000-08:002009-10-04T12:18:22.009-07:00Family Adventuring<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimTH0MJgC_hBNxm6w-W4dayX86J3qKwAChTSSSGrbmsj2Ook70uhMWk3NUZsiKPdj4G0ZBTR6BZxWuWGbODGooTb473W372jyWcmWEJUbiCbE0GSLztP-bvXnKv8YFt4Gp2jIw9Io47mBl/s1600-h/P7180066.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimTH0MJgC_hBNxm6w-W4dayX86J3qKwAChTSSSGrbmsj2Ook70uhMWk3NUZsiKPdj4G0ZBTR6BZxWuWGbODGooTb473W372jyWcmWEJUbiCbE0GSLztP-bvXnKv8YFt4Gp2jIw9Io47mBl/s320/P7180066.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308413212300956610" /></a><br />We've been back home for a month now after our amazing adventures bicycling the Pacific Coast last summer and then living and learning in Mexico for a semester. Our family adventuring usually focuses on new experiences, living outside, and time together. This last trip we got to add months more time, another country, and a new language to the mix. <div><br /></div><div>While on various backpacking, bicycling, kayaking and travel adventures over the years, we have met couples considering having kids who tell us we're an inspiration, older folks who travelled when their kids were young who said the experience was invaluable, and families who wonder how they could possibly adventure together. This makes me want to spend time with those wondering families, encouraging them to start wherever they are and head out adventuring together. </div><div><br /></div><div>One way to do such encouraging and mentoring is virtually. This Traveling Simply blog of our family adventuring stories will be dormant for a little while, and I will be encouraging others through a <a href="http://lauralringler.wordpress.com/">new blog on family adventuring info, tips, and thoughts</a>. Hope you can check it out, add your questions and ideas, and help build a community of adventuring families sharing inspiration and resources, trip ideas and gear info, plus do-it-yourself knowledge and a story or two.</div><div><br /></div><div>And if family adventuring doesn't describe your interests right now, please pass the new blog info on, and check back here later for new Traveling Simply stories.</div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-82783464699728588702009-02-03T20:41:00.000-08:002009-02-04T21:55:59.934-08:00Transition Central and The Last Grasshopper<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Jkz6gd1n0g33_9msSjSuOqwyLa7sXMUEIHSarfyQ1AAc6f3xXf5o0iRUUmo6momHpbTf7JwtyhtkxYJCGfpdbndxoA5HKLtPhlU-5foxo9Tm6y5coYrbvx_tHcHwWyHqx8ajnHy_Ch8f/s1600-h/P2042863.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Jkz6gd1n0g33_9msSjSuOqwyLa7sXMUEIHSarfyQ1AAc6f3xXf5o0iRUUmo6momHpbTf7JwtyhtkxYJCGfpdbndxoA5HKLtPhlU-5foxo9Tm6y5coYrbvx_tHcHwWyHqx8ajnHy_Ch8f/s320/P2042863.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299181758822247426" /></a>At just after midnight on Thursday, January 22, we walked to our house from the local bus station after a day of cross-country airline travel and a 90-mile bus ride. It was a cold, frosty walk home, and it felt otherworldly to be back in our hometown in the deserted moonlight. We thought of marking the transition with a clandestine dip in our neighbor's new hot tub, but instead dropped the backpacks just inside our door, marveled at our cat's chubbiness, admired the welcome back signs, appreciated the fresh homemade strawberry crepes in our fridge, and fell into our beds. The next day we turned up the gas fireplace and starting transitioning in earnest.<div><br /></div><div>Living with only a backpack's worth of possessions for four months, and a bike pannier's worth for many weeks before that, has certainly impacted our relationship to material things. Both kids took one look at their rooms and immediately went into purge mode. I don't blame them. It does feel like there's way too much stuff here. So now we are living in transition central, i.e. a very messy house, as we work on moving things out even as we're moving things in. Things out: books headed for Dana's school's used book sale, didn't-miss-that kitchen items, miscellany from the kids' rooms, and clothes that no longer fit (Dana) or no longer seem needed. Things in: Colegio Yeccan Waldorf projects and notebooks, Mexican artwork, gear from our trip, and groceries. </div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz6pQKGTGDGkbKVgBpN-5l3AZqkFPp4SpllVjJLLTBvs7HIVyPox3UYeddTdfFAvO_wyMtIOqfQRMNvMJp1sanF6m2KTnxELX7L7Tp49-AeNrfTQsaDFFVqhBkhYt6QecFBKce_n77DvoY/s320/P2032861.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299180982729244514" /></div><div>After a few days we took a break from the ferocious sorting for a welcome back fiesta where we saw friends and shared food, stories, mescal and those chile grasshoppers we brought back. I now think the grasshoppers are an interesting personality test. Only two people ate them by the handful, more males than females were willing, and a number of kids said they ate one just so they could say they did. I finally ate one too, since it was Dana who was noticing the male to female intrepid eating difference, and I wanted to take one for the gals.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKQfNH9frQzaOQ1kqOpRHsT4Tz4BFbRvj9jvWrNIpkyEnJHiAHdCN9JAcLmttEX6bnTaO5htTONeIZ6M17pi7curOI9frqwP1TSu-ZVHvNHogeWQxzjhd4hnDJIG_KD2GdPUxOHiSjUc2P/s320/P1272854.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299180264078088322" /></div><div>The kids bravely started back to school, as Tom and I continued the home simplifying process. Of course the transitioning of things is easier than the transitioning of people. We are finding home is familiar but different, and so are we.</div><div><br /></div><div>I started back to work yesterday and brought the last of the chile grasshoppers with me to greet my colleagues. Once again, I got to watch people's expressions of disgust or interest and notice who was willing to pop one in their mouth. Maybe I'll start offering them to my students for fun. Or maybe, almost a month after purchasing the grasshoppers in Oaxaca, I should stop my grasshopper personality tests. Those bugs might be a less fresh these days, and I should probably let them go. But I'm not letting go of my memories and experiences of our adventures. I want those to stick like little legs between my teeth after crunching on a grasshopper.</div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-802277016118199592009-01-14T11:44:00.000-08:002009-01-26T20:43:35.371-08:00Unbraiding and Squish Factors<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDSwZ6kKjZlx2n2gPG3rO03N4rjh9afOHjJAPmEEkSalWf5xpQvVkqrpRkqDavbVTNOKQWiP-lAE0Gdka_P320mmsZZ0m_-AeY-g7u5bBSK3kPqC3gtIM4d-Q8wO6-bX1ywjNrAKH2hExk/s1600-h/P9031166.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDSwZ6kKjZlx2n2gPG3rO03N4rjh9afOHjJAPmEEkSalWf5xpQvVkqrpRkqDavbVTNOKQWiP-lAE0Gdka_P320mmsZZ0m_-AeY-g7u5bBSK3kPqC3gtIM4d-Q8wO6-bX1ywjNrAKH2hExk/s320/P9031166.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291282366551678562" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHr55TZVP7C41nRjBHQlw5kwVvW5PW1XQfGopzEmntdu2vvFgu2eOsVp-SxOK8OLflqsY9-drHopINANnaou75-BcXIwRGNpzYn45MCY0GYtMHiB1ZXduvaUAia-E5xCYUyjQXPlwa0Uwb/s1600-h/IMG_2033_1_1.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 314px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHr55TZVP7C41nRjBHQlw5kwVvW5PW1XQfGopzEmntdu2vvFgu2eOsVp-SxOK8OLflqsY9-drHopINANnaou75-BcXIwRGNpzYn45MCY0GYtMHiB1ZXduvaUAia-E5xCYUyjQXPlwa0Uwb/s320/IMG_2033_1_1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291279887947306914" /></a><br />Do we look any different, more conversant in Spanish perhaps? Can you tell which photo was taken the night we left for Mexico and which one was taken the morning of our return 4 months later? Since we arrived in San Diego as the finale of our summer 2008 bicycle trip down the Pacific coast of the USA, and re-staged there for our semester in Mexico, it seemed fitting we were back again to transition from travel to life in this country just to the north of Mexico. This time we arrived at my sister's much less hot and sweaty. (She lives among some tremendous hills that challenged us a little on our last day of bicycling in August.) And this time we made our entrance in sombreros rather than bicycle helmets.<img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixesTTwx-_djycYF-eTBtZMro24yXziPSlbJIpFa3D8ipoT_RlzMe_wYUbhkWael7RwKPkYFw8pYE0mnxcEKD-dd4tysnzyqOudstqLJMflOT5VPIcFEDvbP1aU1MWanybBQ4zMNzqsST8/s320/P1070631.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291283270320715042" /><div><br /></div><div>Transition week in San Diego included reworking our wardrobes (the kids got taller so none of their pants fit and we needed clothes for colder weather), and Dana getting her ears pierced and her hair unbraided - it took her mom, aunt and grandma working together quite awhile to get out the 49 braids. Noah and Dana were also pedal-boating with the grandparents, pool swimming, bowling, doing art projects and playing Playmobil with cousin Alexi, and choosing books from the library book sale. Tom went out on a few mountain bike rides, we mailed our camping gear back to Bellingham, and we got used to dollars not pesos. Winner of the nightly word game Quiddler got to eat a grasshopper spiced with chile, since we brought back a few from Oaxaca as a present for my brother-in-law. Word is they're crunchy like a sunflower seed. Only with a little squish in the middle.<div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSxlTQXYrd4vsU39SFOy09w3bZEbIwXluoXg5sNyR7NhKUVorz8RNqZG-4shyuvBV0WJGHj3oUmDhMMO_YU4LOWAr6KC1wLtJ4m_04Iqhyphenhyphen3cPAx4wUXbz5DN8HnFW1Sh1ITWQrxm71uix2/s320/P1070634.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291280390187848114" /></div><div><br /><div>Arriving in 3-degree Michigan, the snow is not squishing. It is making that squeaking sound underfoot that signals it is darn cold. Snow is good news here, as Tom's parents' 50th wedding anniversary event is at a cross-country ski resort, and there are big plans for nordic races, sledding and skating. Happily, there's also a hot tub and a place I could order the anniversary cake from. </div><div><br /></div><div>We'll be "deep in family" as Noah once said of this group when he was little, with his uncles arriving from North Carolina, cousins from Portland and New York and Michigan, his Michigan aunt and uncle, and his Maryland great-aunt and uncle. Group meals for 20, options in outdoor fun, and family. Another kind of adventure. Maybe we'll even propose word games and chile grasshopper prizes.</div><div><br /></div></div></div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-73012611352585636762009-01-03T07:39:00.000-08:002009-01-05T06:06:34.545-08:00A Continuation of the Original Situation<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGzYlqU_-50vnJTedsO3ChQ6DR3Bl8RhewxzFiUIonnX7TQ2nq0R-yNZpxrIA95eAeQD-NEu8-sTQ1kAiDYzbGu_salDVsqFBTatghsUCZjbNKA19gGFSv0hfbQj4g6YPq9AXuBI6I_aeb/s1600-h/PC300472.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGzYlqU_-50vnJTedsO3ChQ6DR3Bl8RhewxzFiUIonnX7TQ2nq0R-yNZpxrIA95eAeQD-NEu8-sTQ1kAiDYzbGu_salDVsqFBTatghsUCZjbNKA19gGFSv0hfbQj4g6YPq9AXuBI6I_aeb/s320/PC300472.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287115644183067762" /></a>This blog's title, just like my last, are taken from one of Shambala's signs. I figure "a continuation of the original situation" applies to our move from the beach back inland. As in, we continue to camp in Mexico, enjoying 80-degree days and 50-odd degree nights with a beautiful view from our tent. We've just traded seeing the water to being in the hills looking down on Oaxaca City. Our tent was an awesome place to watch the New Year's Eve fireworks.<div><br /></div><div>We concluded our beach fun with a trip to the turtle sanctuary at Mazunte, where we met five of the seven types of turtles that live in Mexico. We liked the striped land turtles lumbering along, but were even more captivated by the swimming sea turtles. There were baby ones the size of Dana's hand and huge ones with shells several feet across, all swooping gracefully in the tanks.</div><div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPwddms2CPQ7PJyeHioOY08q1Q55Kg1drXr3Ua38RyPNyYn0xrqCBxQ25NPSA5wwgd6Xs-lS_obXjBMSCqKRwsiR93cR-aZZ1hQsHNDLdd82DOoZvny5z4TlQXzX2eX0_m8vt89gjQqilu/s320/PC260397.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287115127524413746" /><br /></div><div>After that, we visited our favorite restaurants once last time, boogie boarded and snorkeled again so Laural could finally see a spotted pufferfish, and taxied to Pochutla to get van transport back to Oaxaca City. Laural took extra Mexican Dramamine equivalent and managed the 5-hour endless serpentine road feeling weirdly drugged but not at all nauseous.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiRpEoUIGEOM6wFassLA4IAu_VlS23KPblfN_eLt2S8pJhvn2kh3RzrdR4QK8tNo79FHbbs-YUpRab8bBxYsAT410Lw1FjoEg6XF20qRGf3JbdUnpnfp_sEjCrFmrxu8K2l2j-tHij7a-p/s320/PC270445.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287114170852489954" /></div><div>Our new digs are a combination campground and agave, or maguey in Spanish, farm. We now know that tequila, which is made from the same plant, can only be called tequila if it is made near the town of Tequila, so everything else is mescal. The proprietor here makes mescal from his agave, and his trademark is a scorpion in the bottom of the bottle, instead of the usual worm. There are only four groups camped here, and the other three are retired Canadians or Germans with campervans. So it's pretty quiet except for the neighborhood roosters and donkey, and Dana and Noah have lots of space to run around and play with the three dogs that live here. Dana likes little Pita best and is petting her in the photo.</div><div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXpHfDGclCYYR_nVbh1FHyfqhtFHPR9sTykBPV94NtgrbIFQEpwv6k9ZuJsh-OtTqefJAtdin4MxW2a0W_yeno-EibrihmJq0c4R4Yt3qLiK-bO1v2Q1YHKR63Iqtb7TdUwDm2TVUfwdX2/s320/P1020512.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287110885855955442" /></div><div><br /></div><div>During the day we catch a local bus down into the city and wander the markets, or head out to other locales. We spent time at the ruins of Monte Alban yesterday. Reminded us of Teotihuacan, but so much older and more preserved stone carvings. I felt proud when I asked Noah if he wanted a Monte Alban t-shirt with the circular Aztec calendar on it and he looked askance, "because this site is Zapotec, not Aztec, mom."</div><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGFJ7M8wHDlxvH-dw4c8XKkSjaFxmDMuuWftC_XFibCI026VlSYnxU8H7mcf4w5ujMMm-fTNgmfxbXjLxwgPZvh6P8XPOnSFg6ngy3x00EGwbCYBGN5xfJmmYppkINyOm7pzhFCszzV_fL/s320/P1030532.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287108808840563906" /></div><div>Nice to know he's absorbing info here, and it helps that he just read a fiction book called the Maya Gateway. He also called excitedly to Dana when he recognized a stela, a column of pictographs telling the place's history, which he knows because one was discovered by the archeologist in the book.</div><div><br /></div><div>So we continue to live and learn, have a few more adventures planned for our last days in Mexico, and head to the USA on January 6, celebrated here as the Three Kings Day, when the wise men arrived to visit baby Jesus. We'll fly from Oaxaca City to Tijuana, bus across the border, and then spend a week in San Diego with my parents, and my sister and her family, who have even kept up their Christmas tree for us. While many in Mexico are exchanging gifts in remembrance of El Dia de los Reyes, we'll be doing the same with family in San Diego. Maybe it is appropriate that we'll arrive on the Three Kings Day, like them wiser and more humble than when we left.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-47866068306349822462008-12-25T08:46:00.000-08:002009-01-03T07:38:38.523-08:00Celebrating Christmas Where the 1960's Never End<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4nJ6M0BXtzow4-Ge-s2DYjNqW5RNA1pIYUpSWD5DvqhNnb_UAvxTvAejWq-h_SW-ezRF7G48Rvvf6sQGHWmJd6A1qhG7tVYqA7Y09u6XAOeQPX05Si7ht-PyRwvN7KOmFVy7EBh-eCFpE/s1600-h/DSC_4803.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4nJ6M0BXtzow4-Ge-s2DYjNqW5RNA1pIYUpSWD5DvqhNnb_UAvxTvAejWq-h_SW-ezRF7G48Rvvf6sQGHWmJd6A1qhG7tVYqA7Y09u6XAOeQPX05Si7ht-PyRwvN7KOmFVy7EBh-eCFpE/s320/DSC_4803.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283776569938963170" /></a>After the all night bus ride from Oaxaca City to the Oaxacan Coast at Puerto Angel, we went in search of beach camping and found a spot at Shambala. A groovy enclave on the clothing optional end of the beach, the sign pledging to "always welcome flower children" also proclaims it is a place "where the 60's never end." And yes, there are folks doing early morning nude yoga on the beach.<div><br /></div><div>We started camping under a palapa (palm-thatched roof) at beach level, but after a few nights moved up, literally, to about forty feet above the beach for a fantastic view, more shade, and a quieter spot. Now we alternate days boogie boarding at Zipolite with days snorkeling at Playa Panteon, the next beach south. I think the fish with electric blue mascara was saying hello to me yesterday. There are also bright yellow sunfish the size of dinner plates schooling around, tiger striped fish, pipefish, and lots of types with glowing shades of blue. I think there's another family poem in our snorkeling experience (see last blog) but we haven't captured it yet.</div><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwgveTalYCPqYp-8WnEI6a6_146fgdWhzywS81gJdAE47lPdwC_ZWXVO8QIDAe6JNUJj_fcQN0DKHTYCL_SMRTladXXpW4VzNhjBmC-iXlpgKtwoId2dXWARaXWUSu2M6PYoGjgOswmMis/s320/PC250385.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287092059782838770" /></div><div>We got to spend a day with a Canadian family who had similar aged kids which was fun for all, and plan to head north a little ways to visit a turtle sanctuary before we return to Oaxaca City in the last days of December. Meanwhile, we're trying a different restaurant every day, getting fruit and snacks at the local market, wandering the area on foot, and trying to stay out of the sun during the burning rays hours of 10-2.</div><div><br /></div><div>On Christmas eve, Shambala's owner hosted a unity dinner for all, and even gave out gifts. Dana received earrings and a beaded necklace and Noah got a shark's tooth necklace. With his blond longish hair and boogie boarding prowess, he very much looks like a surfer guy here. Christmas was small things in the tent's gear loft, a stroll down the beach, and a plan to go skinny dipping tonight. </div><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6PHRFXjb7FKwhMNoeXmVKOyP15bWs69uPoE8ak-okCj98W3lNLuQcF3VKOsBnPwyI_wzdtKFyk2wc78HUsBPLrc2VKccn4uEBrVhtQmWhBf0edIW2K4cuO425Z7NOsM4c3UEAb_ToQuaH/s320/PC250395.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287091313788129922" /></div><div>Wishing you health, peace, and new adventures this holiday season. Take care.</div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-10340658921791346562008-12-15T09:37:00.000-08:002008-12-15T10:52:54.590-08:00Feathery Flutters and Volcano Breath<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX4g7sRV0Ak6t5-POjke88isbonHcpUXN0JFkLXZcZopwTLM4qK6B5m3h9mpLPlvAIjgVzl77wvfCgJjWtp334uZ4kgx-OLUhDsx5vNrdbr_IUFEoupQShQRON3L_jXP1onW8CbnDgGW6r/s1600-h/PC090054.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX4g7sRV0Ak6t5-POjke88isbonHcpUXN0JFkLXZcZopwTLM4qK6B5m3h9mpLPlvAIjgVzl77wvfCgJjWtp334uZ4kgx-OLUhDsx5vNrdbr_IUFEoupQShQRON3L_jXP1onW8CbnDgGW6r/s320/PC090054.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280081755514893330" /></a>Our week of travel in the state of Michoacan gave us the experiences of meeting wonderful people, feeling thousands of monarch butterflies in the air around us, and climbing the steaming volcano Paricutin. We alternated camping and hoteling, as it was a bit chilly. Camping the first night involved setting up our tent in an unfinished house and a meal of fresh steamed trout in a family home, in a beautiful little mountain town. Near Patzcuaro we awoke to ice coating the tent, so the next night in Angahuan we rented a little trojecito, a tiny cabin with just enough space for four horizontal humans. Here we'll share our first tries at family poetry, with each person contributing lines, to describe our time with the butterflies and the volcano.<div><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRafO594gj_7gPFwrHTZig0_mULSEIoqQuyhoKR650TmivigGeLZGIryxQ9H1SfuD7ciZwgs4SL17Riy-NI4qGpC8WeDz-gO65KmVo1c0pDaCABVStclwr2gH5h-0t0V_kG4JhvO5aNCkM/s320/PC090110.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280087419283203410" /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Sanctuario de Monarcas</span></div><div><br /></div><div>A rocky worn scrabbly trail</div><div>A bushwacking traverse</div><div>Finding wings on the ground</div><div>Hours of up</div><div>then clouds of butterflies windtunneling towards us</div><div>like gems</div><div>Feathery flutters of fire orange explosion</div><div>The swishing of small wings</div><div>Or clinging quietly in clusters to individual pine needles</div><div>and decorating Dana</div><div><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixDUpywyGl3AWTHtvNVje-BRGWFcgBTUdMohj5sY8OUcpdpX8KEfGQrfNjuYUGcoxF8OFIDXBnwg_dd-05zi3Ib9juGSDaR5-BO2SRuyQjLXTBIkrUwq8HJgN5e-aw2dV-fnuz1grerMPl/s320/PC120193.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280085730982539042" /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Paricutin</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Butt-bumbling wood saddles on fuzzy horses</div><div>or shoe-filling ash walking</div><div>past peach and avocado fields</div><div>and troje pointed roof wood houses</div><div>then hot and open lava fields</div><div>Sounds of Purepecha language</div><div>between the guide and his son</div><div>Smooth cone suddenly steep</div><div>volcano breath steam on our hands</div><div>ear to earth engine sounds</div><div>ancient smell of creation</div><div>Circling the crater</div><div>singed buns while innocently eating sandwiches</div><div>Knee high ash clouds steep dune</div><div>running sliding down</div><div>Lava hugging the church steeple of the town no more</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXT_bd2SaZFGPcqk3n8i33YarNCquiz2rgp3lURpNwpIxkEde6s8UUO0yWZQDTggeZ4OyMRZBvYAkHGsasIMSmZagmb1sbs8Qv7Ck2Jg81xmzlTtBkYbTe0ASP1KD7d7tuvrnNU_2CBbHt/s320/PC120219.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280083849756787266" /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-34985505796548749662008-12-06T06:15:00.000-08:002008-12-06T06:33:49.825-08:00School Daze<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKalE4kYL471mYlqBTfWZnb3h8ybaSKNszzZkTnlUueUyDBLiLW8crw8Dlfv3ztx_ny70dNrJ-vBmVLaHUBnzf5LtpWblyN06hQbW8KgfPh5Xi8FXmoD-3F7rxzNkWKbU14VJvDiWogMFu/s1600-h/PB252601.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKalE4kYL471mYlqBTfWZnb3h8ybaSKNszzZkTnlUueUyDBLiLW8crw8Dlfv3ztx_ny70dNrJ-vBmVLaHUBnzf5LtpWblyN06hQbW8KgfPh5Xi8FXmoD-3F7rxzNkWKbU14VJvDiWogMFu/s320/PB252601.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275923222451114114" /></a>Tom and I concluded 12 weeks of Spanish language school. That's us pictured below with three of our teachers, and Rolando has the pumpkin pie we brought to share. We've had three hours a day of grammar, practice, and conversation, five days a week for twelve weeks, plus two classes of cooking or dance each week. While I definitely need time for what I've been taught to sink in, I will surely miss my teachers and classmates at Escuela Mexicana. I feel accomplished to have finished the trimester and humbled by how much more exposure and study it will take know this new language.<div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBedYAVDzugHaxNRpMGiZK4TvDRx-OnoPdpKhL-Tw7CqGUmPnU0lPG6Of9rGui7v_t3-BmCY9fNeOZ3TSqAHxcEzaIG1o2HB4QGaS1MGXkx1JBkY-76mMwSPgAL_dkCwLG75oWHSvG6cLA/s320/PB282646.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276683432586940802" /></div><div>Meanwhile, Tom and I have been volunteering in local schools, for another view of education in Mexico. I have been working in English classes with teachers Miriam and Celeste at Instituto Ignacio Montes de Oca. The students call it "Emo" due to the acronym being IIMO. With over 40 fifteen-year-olds of mixed previous English experience per class period and a whiteboard in a battered classroom, these women have a tough job. I found the kids to be friendly and enthusiastic, the teachers dedicated, the classroom structure rather loose, and looming state exams to stress teachers and students just like they do in my</div><div> school back in Washington State, USA.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijIBrKu8GY71xthbF_Jarzb_jlp6xl7Z921EJViEmamb_qyOeeZl_8h8vmEtocDzT_WiwEoTYBW3k2-rpYg2gBeXyLftom723m2j9GDJGe8wjc0dgno3ilRqDc1eQGoWb_aA3nhMgIfDDb/s320/PC042815.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276675680243472754" /></div><div>Tom has been teaching 5th and 6th graders English at Juan B. Diosdado school in a very technology-based curriculum, involving videos and a smartboard. There are similarly forty students per class, and his students wear uniforms, which is very common here. Now we're running into our students all over town. Tom's are usually with their parents, which necessitates introductions. Mine are usually hanging out with their friends being cool teenagers.</div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzQYlv8vQ57njsPZGRF0ag-H7f0HMtmXmeimYFPQF5P2SOnojlLqzSdcqpa3Eihvj-jLnlFa-lziJdWNwEZQ37DgQKgGL6ASREw85P6OEg-lNYdgzwTO0buCdoyy3MeYKWLBa_koWpgZ57/s320/PC052833.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276681840974057826" /><div>Dana and Noah are managing school changes as well, concluding at Colegio Yeccan Waldorf (did you spy it in the photo where they are walking to school?) as we ready for our month of travel before returning to the USA. Just as for Tom and I, it is bittersweet. They have made friends and like school and our adventures here, and that's makes it hard to leave, even though we look forward to seeing friends and family at home.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfcpDjfCpeCsMeSNuykic7Al9-LPalYk0fqyP0zZxzlXrU28sR4sDI_Z9fELB40_tkfC14zmtrDEzV8p8zzQVlRrxMK4Kc3Y-eld61IOYFRWK6RrgKK0pwdzqvFsvhY0jWrb2RDNyQMX54/s320/PC052839.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276679831278632658" /></div><div>We expected to be a little dazed by the school transitions, it's the price for getting to live here for the fall semester, but saying good-bye at the kids' school was hard. Both Dana and I shed tears. I'm consoling myself by thinking we'll come back. I want to learn more Spanish, I want the kids to learn more Spanish and stay connected to friends here, and I want to visit again the wonderful people we have met. Plus I love Guanajuato! Next though, we're heading into our month of travel, starting with the monarch butterfly sanctuary and the 10,400 foot volcano Paricutin. Then it will be off to Oaxaca City and the Oaxacan Coast. Feeling dazed, but oh so thankful to be here. </div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-1997213328045044902008-11-30T21:07:00.000-08:002008-11-30T21:38:11.200-08:00Love Those Avocados and Limons<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhCiSeMfVwaUt22NbzouHBC6O2O3xXdzmi9NtU1mWbS6Cuv1kGaxpaA0L4qE1wOdXrzkq2F5RI6wLFFI8c7ilu3rq0hBkcnlCNyLAdSQJ9o_mLdPunsWnr41GOWKCBBqHtSJ0HSGpZGyyH/s1600-h/PB222577.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhCiSeMfVwaUt22NbzouHBC6O2O3xXdzmi9NtU1mWbS6Cuv1kGaxpaA0L4qE1wOdXrzkq2F5RI6wLFFI8c7ilu3rq0hBkcnlCNyLAdSQJ9o_mLdPunsWnr41GOWKCBBqHtSJ0HSGpZGyyH/s320/PB222577.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274682931911224290" /></a>"So what do you eat down there?" my mother asked recently. While our guide book says the average Mexican eats almost a pound of tortillas a day, we are nowhere close to that. I eat tortillas every day after school with beans, cheese, salsa, and avocado, and some days every meal, but I'd say everyone else in the family is eating them more like every other day. Although after Tom learned in cooking class to make homemade chips out of them, the kids have been clamoring for that way of eating tortillas.<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Tortillas are available everywhere, from the smallest tiendita to fresh-made on the street to the that's-all-they-make tortillarias. We've spent time at a huge open market here that has a second floor where you can hang over the railing and watch the tortilla-makers work. We're also enjoying the produce, which is most fun to purchase in open-air market stalls. I love the avocados, we buy lots of bananas for smoothies, fresh strawberries and watermelon are available, and we recently discovered the joys of homemade limonada. </div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZGGePZF3ZLJO7s2GYg320gDVbzLmw26BJ4QYh-Cg2k0V_GtFI6mJ3WjA01_EvbIjK7IG93tBARZGGw955YN2U70hxBaOszsn5eFvkP3ahtsTHaWEv6blEBCOP5fdYB7wFOL2M288YbNOl/s320/PB302696.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274681455899956386" /><div>Squeeze six limons, which look like small limes but are actually lemons, add sugar and water, and you've got a pitcher of refreshing drink. Tom plans to bring the limon squeezer he bought home so he can make it in the states. If we can find limons there.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The family tradition of breakfast dinner once a week survives. The mix says it is for "hotcakes," and we buy syrup and jam and nutella to put on them. One major change is that we've eaten very little pasta here. It's available, but maybe we burned out on it a little after the summer bicycle tour where we made one-pot pasta every third night for six weeks.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Before school, breakfasts are toast or cereal. A slight wrinkle in the make-your-own-toast routine is that the casita's toaster oven is affixed too high for the kids to reach; Noah can just do it using long barbeque tongs. Then the kids pack lunches (some kind of sandwich, yogurt, fruit), Tom and I pack snacks (we get out of school earlier than they do) and we're off for the day.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUbhyphenhyphenHa-wd4-IvEpcnVXIqrIoKjILyLWOG9mMnN5kSQZy8P4LTYSQA_YlOqV35lX1cNjrUv_uxsW3z47Vs1zSWH2QNYYKhrmzEWyN8VTS89dh6l80-3a5YBZ57GmymEeSr8x1X4KiLEYo7/s320/PB302693.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274679742410200834" /></div><div>On Sundays, two of us hike down to the Mega, a supermarket that's at a mall, to stock up for the week. In the photo, the mall is the complex of white buildings. </div><div>We procure several kinds of juice (my favorite is nectarine) and fresh breads from the bakery, which you use tongs to select and place on a metal tray you carry around the bakery area. Then you bring the load up to the counter and they bag and price the lot for you. It is the same routine in the panadarias (bakeries). During the week, we get barbecued chicken from Carlos, fruits from the market stalls, and shaved ice after school from the gentleman with the red ice chest bungied onto a dolly who always has two flavors but they vary every day. Noah's been adventurous (limon with chile), and Dana and I like mantecado (vanilla with nuts and raisins).</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXltgYG9BN6DrttHG7T-cOU7C66mHYsehqU630DbQvLOnWmrXba2MSX3p07DvHDy0TlOgRYfGr_G2qeFcMJYEEpVqt1v7Z1T02mZ2xMKca6lgvhk-z7f50JtBwF7spUd-6NZvaURdXxhmx/s320/PB302706.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274676699163157538" /></div><div>We've been out to eat at an open air taco place that also does baked potatoes, a teeny-tiny Japanese restaurant, and a cafe where the tables are on a bridge over a pedestrian walkway. We also had an excellent Thanksgiving feast which included cranberry margaritas, turkey with mole instead of gravy, and cornbread stuffing with chipotle peppers. When we are out on the coast in a few weeks, we understand seafood and tropical fruits will be standard fare, but we're certainly enjoying the food here. And I who love those avocados and limons, am trying not to worry about having to give them up in January.</div><div><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4aW_C1386ghQ557NOvNnMxax5u-7gTHL705rpS0FdxXQ6j0bIVWVmfWunlBkkfT3PcWAeABduHUzeo4QEoG3aNtG7yrysqVIecpGZkbh7YgSDYLtnCaMynUDUf4nJZU6l3Ou1-9uP9yzt/s320/PB272634.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274674492253637074" />Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-29035557928567370472008-11-20T20:13:00.000-08:002008-11-20T20:59:47.837-08:00Visiting 100 b.c.<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">With our weekend Nissan Tsuru rental, camping gear in the trunk, and a sort-of-accurate road map, we headed towards our first pyramids at Tula. Three hours later we presented our student cards at the Zona Archeologia sign, and were waved through with no charge. Turns out kids and students are given free entrance to not just museums, but archeological sites. What a great country.</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Tom read from the Archeological Mexico guidebook about the ancient ball courts and Toltec warriors, we clambered around the pyramids with Mexican families, and Dana picked out a ceramic whistle or flauta to bring home. Then it was on to the town of San Juan Teotihuacan to locate the campground Tom found on the Internet. With one missed toll road junction we got there a little after dark, but campground owner Mina was happy to see us. And we were happy to see a huge section of thick green grass - very unusual in Mexico, at least in our experience.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sunday morning was chilly, but we got going by 9am, with only a slight delay due to Tom being pulled over for going the wrong way on a one-way street. The policeman checked our documents with a severe expression, but then waved us off. We were car #5 in the parking lot at Teotihuacan, gained free entrance again, and were up Piramide del Sol shortly after.</div><div><br /></div><div>We spent the rest of the day wandering the ruins, talking about what the city might have been like when it was thriving back in 100 b.c. to 700 a.d., climbing the pyramids, and taking direction from Noah, who was getting footage for his next film. I'm sure it will be posted soon on <a href="http://www.fringlerfilms.com/">fringlerfilms.com.</a> Yes, he talked me into getting him a URL of his own.</div><div> <br /></div><div>Teotihuacan was amazing. Until you can catch a glimpse of it in a future Fringlerfilm, you can check out our photos.</div><div><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w472.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w472.photobucket.com/albums/rr89/lringler/Teotihuacan/672de890.pbw" height="360" width="480"></embed><a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"><img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" /></a><a href="http://s472.photobucket.com/albums/rr89/lringler/Teotihuacan/?action=view&current=672de890.pbw" target="_blank"><img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" /></a></div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-32544092879014328002008-11-10T19:16:00.000-08:002008-11-11T05:42:51.465-08:00Volcanic Hiking This Week, Pyramids Next<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUpTk7x1LzLb7o5BjvwVp3ZiTbJBMcNmUDzOFSkngHDjZFt_vttVN-BCiJN2ibKj5W0Xf3XsMM5eGdj4qtwaDfBQ4HBQaGrZ0q7myt_GiM_KZTYByXl1UPakVGvOzJkpahz92UVARh5MDR/s1600-h/PB092260.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUpTk7x1LzLb7o5BjvwVp3ZiTbJBMcNmUDzOFSkngHDjZFt_vttVN-BCiJN2ibKj5W0Xf3XsMM5eGdj4qtwaDfBQ4HBQaGrZ0q7myt_GiM_KZTYByXl1UPakVGvOzJkpahz92UVARh5MDR/s320/PB092260.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267238076970954946" /></a>We continue to hike the Guanajuato area, and when our volcanologist friend Dave Tucker visited, we learned a lot more about the volcanic nature of our surroundings. Now the kids know breccia from ignimbrite, and we see a little more of the geologic story in the mix of rocks.<div><br /><div>Last weekend, with Noah at home recovering from a cold, we hiked with Dana and her friend Danae to a feature on our horizon that we call the Balanced Rocks. The uphill was rather pokey from spiny plants, but once we cleared the ridge it was a wide open traverse to the rocks.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>A highlight on the last uphill section was a scattering of bleached white cow bones. The girls were very scientific in their explorations of them, and very impressed with the thickness and depth of bovine teeth.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgKvhusJB8wB8h_gxX-EWGMsRFjvgGORhXjDANuOktptyNwvKnJwuSHeFDv4mIFE9lZcuMPt4xF0Ju7nOrxPAaUXqfgdZ13D5TUQ2ma_Jf8_jjgHGDzMnDhe3ACamDsgcqiROHbDl7XcJf/s320/PB092261.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267392394979054530" /></div><div></div><div>Once at the rocks, there were some scrambling opportunities, peanut butter and jelly roll-ups (on tortillas) and a symphony of burro voices discussing who knows what across the hills. We</div><div> admired more wacky rocks and wished we had Dave with us to explain, then wandered down via a different route which brought us into town and</div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioD3qBKltDYGy1FG6K-tuTXIy8_DNw-Sx9WgZBrXlylyR2eJK969tma5L0-1K9MJ_mqt77AOYkDhNZOEXD4OEUWhYFmtUh1hzDStRncEQcD2koeHApbOQNV3a1PfS8JpHDfVP5mPCSpnpR/s320/PB092285.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267388974103562674" /><div> our favorite shaved ice vendor before heading home.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Next weekend we're going to climb the pyramids of Teotihuacan north of Mexico City. The guidebook says the Pyramid of the Sun there is the third tallest pyramid in the world. With our almost weekly hiking here, we hope we'll have the stamina for that pyramid, the Pyramid of the Moon and the Pyramid of the Plumed Serpent as well. Noah has checked them out on Google Earth, Tom has rented a car and found a campground there, and the kids have Monday off school, so it will be a long weekend of adventure in a new area for us.</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8tSNR7YqdXjJsWP31MFbqn6ogbRLFrmlFuzMyLwoKCPAWLKn20f6uncCDBYDT8BpaJHgDUjSF8w99xFvhHwJ797z7yqcAlaWcej3zu2sALz3PUQIli1iSrMisejbZLQvX2jBVdbIwQ5nY/s320/PB092289.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267390873569788098" /></div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-29657588624491992632008-11-02T16:08:00.001-08:002008-11-02T16:11:05.670-08:00Day of the Dead meets Halloween<div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w472.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w472.photobucket.com/albums/rr89/lringler/Halloween/ecd743db.pbw" height="360" width="480"></embed><a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"><img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" /></a><a href="http://s472.photobucket.com/albums/rr89/lringler/Halloween/?action=view&current=ecd743db.pbw" target="_blank"><img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" /></a></div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-49677931688405966002008-11-02T13:49:00.000-08:002008-11-02T14:21:05.643-08:00Goodbye Pink Bathroom, Hello Fish Sink<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrrl99oIWghjXOQVgfrV-r4a4XZTuKrCaKzwB5cnrWq4GaCB101J6HlygTjkjBo1z_V7avNP7YzXFAEprtai8GfS1K9UEOit-wtvc4-kSjbGDsX3vczPe-dS4dXnGarH4OExK3jKs_GxWd/s1600-h/PB012092.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrrl99oIWghjXOQVgfrV-r4a4XZTuKrCaKzwB5cnrWq4GaCB101J6HlygTjkjBo1z_V7avNP7YzXFAEprtai8GfS1K9UEOit-wtvc4-kSjbGDsX3vczPe-dS4dXnGarH4OExK3jKs_GxWd/s320/PB012092.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264188144172166034" /></a><br />Our apartment with the colorful city view has been exchanged for a two-room casita that looks out towards La Bufa, our neighborhood cross atop a rocky hill. The apartment was a great place to land in Guanajuato, and helped us get acclimated. I remember on our very first day when I looked at the microwave, and realized that I really was in a new land. Of course the start button would say "inicio" and the stop/pause button would say "borrar/parar." I just didn't know those words yet.<div><br /><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXPdjELekMrk3T_rqWvEu-YLcPownPCzlKZDXGFSZRoBILZSp4VQ7zCzEsXtHxx4Ge-Jpa4d3a9Z4poxMnfWIPPMw-ZBjQMOAz3CN4CGseZ-gCme4uN9k92kuFZRRQ-rwCuzV1-v1KFGLX/s320/PB012100.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264188134841228018" /></div><div>Similarly, the apartment taught us that the sink knob labeled "C" gets you hot water, not cold, because "C" is for caliente (hot). Retooling other habits sometimes took a little longer. Dana ended up making signs for the bathrooms that said, "Don't drink the water" and "Put the toilet paper in the waste basket." And still we would forget sometimes.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWsgbfr6B9EgP6i4h4p2-cRIqqsW0V4lVquApnhMVH7nGlTmnb2sm5nzV_q76XmxkvoZB3lKzI07tycymXy7SRlYFlRypepJZMLw-m3tT3DiP5HJbdTYRru8kPmq32RmTfDO-AjXWMv8zO/s320/PB012101.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264188126347114050" /></div><div>But now we've got it, and we also got used to the apartment's restroom choices: the pink bathroom or the blue bathroom. The former might well be named Queen Barbie's Beauty Palace, just as a character named her room in <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Broken For You</span> by Stephanie Kallos, which Tom and I just read. The blue bathroom became Noah's domain, after Dana was grossed out by the way he left the sink and jumped ship to the pink bathroom off the adults' bedroom.</div><div><br /></div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBBU4LheZpUVyX7LRpQq0EvpG7YOVDj7oBSylwBeQawlNSVkq3L0BE_tUxiVBTN2RDZfFFs5iqrzbHOvmETS0RpgKEFqFhiUQibopUGW3lQdMBnySzNSVP0cEjx58o3Gx04VpcZAZRm9NS/s320/PB022149.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264188111525509858" /><div><br /></div><div>In the new house, we're sharing one bathroom, and it has an amazing fish sink, so I'm sure Noah won't leave it toothpaste streaked. The casita of the amazing view has outdoor space to play in, Internet service, a loft bed for Dana, is quiet, and is in the same neighborhood - just over the hill from the apartment. We're enjoying the change, yet glad that the kids' school is still close, and we can still see the neighborhood folks like Carlos, Tom's buddy who sells barbecued chicken in the afternoons. So if you asked us what's new for November, I might just have to say that it's goodbye pink bathroom and hello fish sink.</div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgansTR9ZCDnHk3PSeaCt2Gh4MKUBpQiIbMxi8MjlT4UQhO-eK8g8IiCtxmiHAcMj-Nf0NW4LGZusGKsyc01YkjVzaVteaS57qP3vXnwnGDZynl-EcQoJi-elR-XZkxBkocCKV7vaKv6Fiv/s320/PA302066.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264188109871070818" /></div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-27547275618091548702008-10-27T11:44:00.000-07:002008-10-27T08:03:44.570-07:00Sir Knight of the Rueful Countenance<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG19lsmGnDI6Xc7b233KY60w8MVXz18CHMWrIzLXiRiyps5kT7xftqWwzNl6gxFLZfFc-mG-LFszWr7jJro-PyxHrXoDK5m_Xnmmlmjvy0dB1Gr1cz2TibDz6PxnF865EnnSamcbNRmCVL/s1600-h/PA231941.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG19lsmGnDI6Xc7b233KY60w8MVXz18CHMWrIzLXiRiyps5kT7xftqWwzNl6gxFLZfFc-mG-LFszWr7jJro-PyxHrXoDK5m_Xnmmlmjvy0dB1Gr1cz2TibDz6PxnF865EnnSamcbNRmCVL/s320/PA231941.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261846380773930306" /></a>"There once was a man who read so much he went crazy." So begins a children's version of Don Quixote that Noah picked up in Donkey Jote, the English language bookstore here. Originally published in 1605, Quixote is the man who read of knights and chivalry, then decided to style himself as a knight and go adventuring with his "squire" Sancho Panza. It is Sancho who dubs Quixote "Sir Knight of the Rueful Countenance."<div><br /></div><div>With a museum here dedicated to all things Don Quixote, Guanajuato began celebrating Quixote and author Miguel de Cervantes in the 1950's. The festival called Cervantino has become a three-week celebration of the arts, and some of the venues offer free seats, so we are sampling music and dance, particularly at the Alhondiga outdoor stage - that's where Dana is in the photo.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFiyPjhfUYZUKCyUOnDFDy4KpNwGGAqhHmCyehIQsyeC1lptXDiGKyWiVA2xX4LtEDvTo8vyQMnaTdq9wBkrjURS7N4iX5zC_5Ome_HauI33at2lMy-y1f0yEB5G04g21LFTgWEKOV1-sX/s320/PA201936.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261846373030005314" /></div><div>Noah's favorite event so far, The Aluminum Show, was a modern dance extravaganza from Israel involving, yes, aluminum. Dancers variously moved a metallic-looking two-story tall robot through the audience, shot space blanket looking material through a cannon out into the audience, and gyrated energetically. We've also seen several folkloricos, two focusing on traditional Mexican dances and another a Mexican dance group doing a tribute to Israeli folk music, and a ballet/modern dance mix.</div><div><br /></div><div>We joined the young and hip of Guanajuato at Instituto del Sonido's techno-funk concert. Tom caught Makossa & Megablast from Austria, and we all liked La Troba Kung Fu because they had a lead accordionist and ska beats. We have also heard a costumed punk band playing on a street stage, various folk guitar groups, and the ubiquitous Peruvian panpipe group. They were playing Simon & Garfunkel's "I'd Rather Be a Hammer Than a Nail." Or did Simon & Garfunkel steal a traditional song?</div><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjKMrcoKNZD3UOzKPcAF5ivGmfnrlOVGfJq9am5yInSyl2K7lBfo47jPYxCn6IT70DVPztFQwiOmqM30h2vLcW5PT_pYhtRmvYvUB3vLy-OIXw9bALqG-w-mrwrWd1KUnoN60nTrPzFdM5/s320/PA251952.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261846369323888354" /></div><div>Cervantino means lots of people and vendors wandering the city. If you suddenly need a Don Quixote fake moustache, you'll find sellers of them on every corner. There are plenty of street performers as well, from the Insectos (see photo) to various mimes. Dana's favorite mime is the guy in cowboy attire who is spray-painted silver. Completely. He even wears mirrored shades so you can't see any hint of unpainted skin around his eyes. This type of street performer reminds us of Hollywood Boulevard, except here they stand on a soapbox and don't speak a word.</div><div><br /></div><div>Meanwhile, I'm trying to read, in English, Cervantes' epic tome. My copy of Don Quiote is 1142 pages of Three Stooges humor and the longest sentences I've tried since Faulkner in college. This means it will be finished long after the Cervantino festival concludes. I decided it is better to read leisurely than have a rueful countenance myself.<br /></div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-41018431196327252622008-10-17T08:40:00.000-07:002008-11-14T06:56:29.552-08:00Language Envy<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQJY4d60B_i0yAAHDFeCQGQVQH8X_0q8xy28H7_iiY0hPV-ODbIWLKVEw111_WhyphenhyphenZVEGerQlfa7yVLiGsEJ6iJxExt2zN5OLrCLT0BUVrykb73eQuSeX3JQ8rdRJTSTCmsivFiZcGP5sDz/s1600-h/PA031650.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQJY4d60B_i0yAAHDFeCQGQVQH8X_0q8xy28H7_iiY0hPV-ODbIWLKVEw111_WhyphenhyphenZVEGerQlfa7yVLiGsEJ6iJxExt2zN5OLrCLT0BUVrykb73eQuSeX3JQ8rdRJTSTCmsivFiZcGP5sDz/s320/PA031650.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258983732147964354" /></a><br />Many Mexican people we meet here have studied English in preparatoria (high school) or college, our Escuela Mexicana European classmates are studying Spanigh as their third or fourth language, and Noah's and Dana's classmates are often bi- or tri-lingual as well.<div><br /></div><div>We have Swiss friends, who lived three years in Costa Rica before coming to Guanajuato, that speak German at home, Spanish everywhere, and English as well. I am envious of six-year-old Florian and ten-year-old Maura's facility in three languages. And their parents are not just conversational in several languages, but operate professionally in them as well. Wow.</div><br /><div>While I wish I had gotten started as a kid, or gone abroad in college, I didn't. Instead, I am struggling post forty to learn Spanish. When I start feeling depressed thinking about Dana's friend Danae who is bilingual in Spanish and English and strong in German, or Noah's classmate Eyal, who is bilingual in Spanish and Hebrew and coming on well in English, I try and remember there are folks in my Spanish classes who are in their sixties. Then I get out my books, study verb conjugations, and feel very thankful that I get this time to learn as much as I can. Working to learn another language is difficult, but amazing and fascinating as well. I hope with time and study I'll get there. Maybe by fifty I'll know something of what Florian knows at six.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLUDkx-xPyqw6DtA1mmOuQC1TdiXJxv17y4-k6zbo55wOxnSN5aEL0W2ohbT4eke13Mhsa_kLivEXiY7O_h5JdLJA9g9LxZleDWWdzC6ryKgA84V3vwz78VDUsg8cxKln3ZfKX2ubGyvSv/s320/PA051657.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258982299154212562" /></div><div>Actually, he just turned seven. We hiked up one of the mountains encircling Guanajuato with his family, and another who have four kids, to celebrate his birthday/cumpleanos/geburtstag. There was a fire for cooking hot dogs and banana boats (chocolate tucked into a banana and heated in not-too-hot coals), birthday cake and singing in several languages, and much running around of children. Florian speaks to me in Spanish, his sister addresses me in English, and I toss a few German words back to them when some pop into my head leftover from language in classes in college almost 25 years ago.</div><div><br /></div><div>With our neighbors or people that we see traversing the callejones, at least I know enough Spanish now to be friendly. I can understand the woman who suggested I not let Noah and Dana slide down the handrail in a steep callejon, greet the shopkeepers we pass each morning</div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwOprbmQbnzqNnQikkJOVmZBbtFjqah94VDESiB2PHTgii9xgQHs4Il510aZ3sZ8M8Wko5BIQQ98CYQduYbU6mHk7ljDbu5UkySxtvcUC4SuV5qq8SDuZdbNAi9lQZ_ouArlH-WRa7cs5s/s320/PA111673.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258982302380207586" /><div> taking Noah and Dana to school, and even gave the right info when I was asked for directions from some out-of-town Mexicans. I have to admit it was a shock that they believed I would understand their question and know the info they needed. I guess there's hope after all.</div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-54830629497192827602008-10-10T08:22:00.000-07:002008-10-10T08:36:11.038-07:00Dragons, Costumes, and an aside on Rice Crispie Treats<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNCGb8Yt5t09s-Rx3kJaAp3WtLfPQy0tg3CL3iu59f-DYtNrSBGyt_OUxH4jHblWyydJ-tz7vp0L4DfFFa_g9NvS_VW04q7HjXprm_6PCitrO19oDhRbgYcX030dTQnXlDyKSKAzyhFtYT/s1600-h/PA031633.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNCGb8Yt5t09s-Rx3kJaAp3WtLfPQy0tg3CL3iu59f-DYtNrSBGyt_OUxH4jHblWyydJ-tz7vp0L4DfFFa_g9NvS_VW04q7HjXprm_6PCitrO19oDhRbgYcX030dTQnXlDyKSKAzyhFtYT/s320/PA031633.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255541865498248082" /></a>Collegio Yeccan Waldorf students put on a San Micael play where Jorge defeated the dragon in a perfect stone grotto at a park in the hills above Guanajuato. Costumed first through eighth graders played the threatened farmers, the king and his court (including Noah as one of the guards), and of course the dragon (Dana was one of four fifth graders in the dragon costume). The kids variously sang and spoke the story to recorder accompaniment - all in Spanish, of course. It was a great show.<img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9L10F2Hu8yjNHBRYQxZQd8-aWNvO2ajusBL-aePCy__dtphM-38zt8JDc7IKwTBzqxSYAIw1Cc6gn5zOgA_sg-jvQAPOpaOqIEb4sctbanxSAefUSy5QNk8OUp8Ax5tOVyZZyc3BtZydx/s320/PA031642.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255543507336417634" /><div><br /></div><div>Afterwards, we participated in an intercambio, an exchange of homemade goods as a celebration of the fall harvest. Our rice crispie treats were not very indicative of autumn, but were certainly a hit. Regular rice crisp cereal wasn't in the store this week, so we made them with cocoa rice crisp cereal ("Arroz Inflado Sabor Chocolate" the box says, for those interested in the Spanish). Marshmallows here come with various colors in one bag, so there was some debate about whether to use both the strawberry and vanilla marshmallows with the chocolate cereal, creating a neapolitan sort of dessert. We ended up sorting out the pink marshmallows this time, but Dana's classmates (yes, we've already corrupted them, she has shared at lunch) are familiar with rice crispie treats in several variations.</div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2IBLyF8Kglh0-KNgzVMMSo6eiF5gAW9ZLoTNxUwkMbW4ZdWha4Lbl8GAKzlaZvNkzdc_ZUX9eDIqga9RsbOVJjNwgB5TziV3XSl_oJYwKIQZ65Mq9B1pRa41IYtPeIaz-wdYqvANdBL0W/s320/PA031646.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255547950912418258" /><div>That's Dana's class taking their post-play bow, with friends Maura and Danae on the left and Dana on the right in the dragon. The dragoneers moved well together, with one little kid yelling out as they approached, "Will it breathe fire and eat children?"</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdOBdB7Dfgfap4e1Dhwla-gNitDiCc2FRvOlxANweHWAxDkoChyphenhypheni23wHmzVxB3g0uQtZDPzNeZhIYMByu198OmUD5zMJzk0Rf54rMroBgazqWiHQNt2YrIqD_mSLJ5YKj0bERKCIAxCi2d/s320/P9141258.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255546430441295042" /></div><div>Our first experience seeing a costumed event however, was when Noah and I hiked through the mountain village of al Mineral del Monte de San Nicolas during a religious festival. The parade included some fifty people on horseback, like the woman in the photo. No dragon, but a noisy event with church bells ringing, fireworks going off, and drums and brass instruments playing.<br /></div><br /><div>Then there was the weekend we were in San Miguel de Allende, about an hour from Guanajuato, and wandered past costumed dancers with huge headdresses. Also on that trip, we were in the village of Atotonilco, site of the church where Father Hidalgo led the revolutionaries after his September 16, 1810 speech, and picked up the banner of the Virgin of</div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi86oO-cGm90_d7-zvWC0YR5r0PlEE2AciTdj8hwCrIta90szvi6bE0bAb_Py7KKr9lyf0qalOAMQaPachY-gTGPFQsVW7eoKOYIAPj148j1K4xVuu2OHAqxANqi1uGBaOvEPXZoTO_q9Du/s320/P9281616.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255543518088396514" /><div> Guadalupe for the group to march under. The market there was very focused on religious items, such as crosses, rosaries, "Pope trading cards" as Noah said, saint medals, and even latigos for self-flagellation. The part I liked best was watching the Purepecha women from the countryside. I practiced taking photos holding the camera down by my side instead of up to my face, so as to be less intrusive.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJPdWilPX5g06Eux_-PhA7u4n2FhWNEzv-sfPoZO8Rbbft3ABp7hVezPvb_fYe4vtgUeMyeZ_A64lBCUFF8vUggYVCIIo6TPEaFfrvdFvPlWO_jFslaFN6e53_OmxnZcKu-xMlxKJgNQ0S/s320/P9281598.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255182476504303362" /></div><div>All these costumes and we're not even to Halloween and Dios de los Muertos yet. We hear the kids' school assigns a category of costume to each class. Dana thinks the fifth graders are supposed to be vegetables. Ah, so much to look forward to.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-74878386526891853172008-10-02T07:50:00.000-07:002008-10-02T08:00:36.551-07:00Learning from Salsa<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwwOj4j26zdFVNf_88_OTCfcU3fAyAKVj72-qo1jjuSu3SC-VoNWuFmR3I-YVr0z78_GwaY7EPeTM7uWBBpMJEDteY1xvQsW6ZIK5J99uHAHYEse0-1yW6AFZv_v3PxXA_E1aIz9Ct4Yix/s1600-h/P9231469.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwwOj4j26zdFVNf_88_OTCfcU3fAyAKVj72-qo1jjuSu3SC-VoNWuFmR3I-YVr0z78_GwaY7EPeTM7uWBBpMJEDteY1xvQsW6ZIK5J99uHAHYEse0-1yW6AFZv_v3PxXA_E1aIz9Ct4Yix/s320/P9231469.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252563305161478386" /></a>I knew I would be eating salsa in Mexico, but I hadn't expected to be dancing salsa. Then we discovered the trimester program for Tom and I includes two extra cultural classes a week, and while Tom is eagerly anticipating cooking, it is salsa dance class right now. On week four, we're into more complicated steps, occasionally at hyper-speed, depending on the song our teacher selects. I tell Tom to think of it as just a series of moves, like the football plays of his high school years. And that it's good for him that an activity is easier for me than him, for once.<div><br /><div><div><div>Maestro Herardo (or Suave to his friends) is an amazing dancer and teacher, with a quick sense of humor. And don't he and Ester from Norway look good together in the photo? He has reinforced our directional vocabulary as he calls out in Spanish to turn left or right, and as he directs us in the warm-ups before class ("arriba, abajo, arriba, abajo, " as we're to look up and down to warm up our neck and head). When we went to buy Dana a shoulder bag for school, Tom could describe what we were looking for because he learned the word for shoulder from dance class.</div><div><br /></div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu9klBPLgsXiD-sdPMntLQYGW_K6zVPz8dgTg3pEJ2xbVBcZnaulRusyx1UmiSc74bGe_gsk4e9kAHSgyFat1VcO5fqTnHkTboH1TD2MeYO-iFlQJHAJ_B9s_UNBbdzsMJjyuN-3v195QW/s320/P9231459.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252570855221353906" /><div>I can hum a few of the salsa tunes now, because we have the cd of the ones used in class. We also listen to the University of Guanajuato radio station in the apartment, and of course they sometimes play salsa. The U of Guanajuato station is also like student stations everywhere - it has classical shows and quite a few eclectic time slots where you might hear Mexican heavy metal and then a Spanish folk song. In other eclectic music notes, Tom got the scoop on Mexican ska from some local folks and has a list of bands to purchase, we heard a five-piece Dixieland group and went to the symphony (they had a super dramatic guest conductor that the kids loved, and Smetner's Ciclo was very engaging), plus there is always street music here. Now we wish we had our saxes and some of Tom's drums with us.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR2ZyIxvS4eCiIdne4JMGb0gumUTFusb61jRkPcwbLGhe0nmaK1F09q5KxnOonRoTwAxKzPJ9atrGOElbGij8OZpES94K-tSxWmdeG6WUHdB-rtPORNJq6xwbHkbIC7h5P3_Ibk_YclUOv/s320/P9231470.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252564448501969426" /></div><div>While we're in salsa class on the terrace at Escuela Mexicana for an hour in the evening a couple times a week, the kids are on site in a classroom trading off reading and using the computer. Though they have been invited, they haven't ventured onto the dance class with us. They would do great if they were up for dancing with the adults, such as dance and Spanish classmates Esther and Andrea from New Zealand, with me after class in the photo. Esther says dancing salsa is not of her culture. We joke that she is getting in touch with her inner Latina.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next jump in our salsa education would be to go out to one of the dance clubs and practice our moves. Tom and I haven't yet, but we'll have to get brave (and a babysitter) at some point. New moves and learning from salsa are all part of the adventure.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div></div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-77429584987253427592008-09-25T07:45:00.001-07:002008-09-26T11:55:05.181-07:00Hiking Guanajuato<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqrFD4t-it3_1r43W3QvDqfLukxNQkB9ta9L8iZlEfZ88tttYv9fxLtLBERdyrmuUHBTW_OUoxvDnE7R5hn5F_9wzY9XWOfWYmfWoDm0kxmc2NAMLz-peqa1HyRyoLDEotbLYBiahV5hVZ/s1600-h/P9211384.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqrFD4t-it3_1r43W3QvDqfLukxNQkB9ta9L8iZlEfZ88tttYv9fxLtLBERdyrmuUHBTW_OUoxvDnE7R5hn5F_9wzY9XWOfWYmfWoDm0kxmc2NAMLz-peqa1HyRyoLDEotbLYBiahV5hVZ/s320/P9211384.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250400120138871794" /></a>We live on Panoramica, the road that rings the city of Guanajuato, and the mountains seem very close. Now we know just how close, as last weekend we were off the road in ten minutes of walking, and headed up, up, up, to a landmark chapel and cross known as La Bufa.<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>We paused to look at horses and cows wandering by, admire the cactus, discuss the rock formations and red earth (we needed our friend Liz the geologist to help us know what we were seeing), wonder about the chapel carved into the base of a rocky band, and slowed to scramble a rock chute that led up to the saddle. </div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0vLQ4exNgw2t_3uGqellmvDsxNVGLhvCpsIfo9EZdvDc37ToqdH4dYINHbhxpmGDT9AwSnBptpDDmJI7nov_6qvooImxeaK9dsvjm4n4gvMIM_dcW2rF0MpDQC8sLFB8pNLPB4pHeGb1B/s320/P9211401.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250396699106078194" /><div>From there the city looked so much smaller and contained, and the wide open green and rock mountains</div><div>stretched out in every direction. We resolved to camp up top another time.</div><div><br /></div><div>Noah said he saw a scorpion, we cringed at a party of gringos loudly repelling, and picked our way up the rock to the white cross at the top edge. In some places steps had been chiseled into the pinkish rock, and we saw can lanterns (a candle and sand in a paint can) that people</div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfJ6p5FJA8DMSS2IWjPXPn4geTEsqB1De1PSr3Hu2jDhSqlWeup6ZRsneUSxZ3tuAksq-8nSJLqWvkLiz-Pou9TTgxr72ZhT_CCHkj_wPK6VJASlVJmftdo6d9gjhnX2jkraoU7d72Neh9/s320/P9211403.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250400126523994146" /><div>had used to light evening climbs. </div><div><br /></div><div>It looks like we can head out in almost any</div><div>direction hiking here, since the city is surrounded by the mountains, although the </div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggUyWrrRiG0mLXzXAiFTzGt34w0hQoPhA4L9uaprAZXSeVSPtnasZgc2DC-ob5p5ZOD9Lyyfb2fqilw3XiRbcHPacepUKQvPaHF5bCd15NawounNu0NYUs107MnxGt3jKA_0uaLtYvnFcO/s320/P9211434.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250402357774841058" /><div>terrain then flattens going west towards Leon (which is what you see behind us in the photo where Dana is snacking). So much hiking available, and yet </div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqV8IrfcfQRt8XbbADUJdciz_y7CUuQuBMchfR4kOVb0QEofuS7vdsi6PVwMNqRrF5raIexI6Jh-agcD6QlkqOkp6GPMLtetyETq1nQQJGJu3DJHPTmITL2IsbSZEBl_ofx9uyD0juqOot/s320/P9211437.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250400127864703698" /><div>there isn't exactly a word for it in Spanish. One can go walking in the mountains, but not hiking. Interesting.</div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-21554534049780446362008-09-18T11:49:00.000-07:002008-09-19T11:12:51.242-07:00Blue Mushrooms and Blue ClassroomsDana's class visited the neighboring town of Santa Rosa, and Tom went along as a parent volunteer, to hike with a botanist and learn about local plants to finish the 4th grade's botany unit. From Dana's point of view the technicolor fungi and the blue mushrooms were the highlights. The kids even cooked and ate those indigo mushrooms.<div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpMnbh8gEQWpGI3qPNOH9sRq4r84CR8CPeSngNx7AxQLsJ63E63GHcH7-ZxVu0mELJqrBpb1nmjTZUGHgbeXYOBULxSQ-LSUWVBcsCKMVIqymHX5Cq1FrDK_AY3pN_W_ZgQEGvIavRlEs4/s320/P9171361.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247737692971010578" /><br /></div><div>At Colegio Yeccan Waldorf, Dana is in a class of eight students with a super friendly and caring teacher. Dana's friend Danae is bilingual in English, and helps Dana understand some of the teacher's instructions. The math works well when Maestra Elisabet writes it on the board, and Dana writes her essays in English.</div><div><br /></div><div>Noah is one of seven students with a bilingual teacher originally from the US, and uses Spanish with his classmates, although they also speak some English as it is taught twice a week at the school. Both kids are in classic Waldorf surroundings - pastel blue classroom walls, wooden desks, tile entryways. And they do movement class on the roof terrace.</div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOk3DR8hrvyxg8Nj_gvh5iRtNc1rcTlF8YB-xpyFA4D9LLyddbklb1kYhUS4HE__nbn3XSrTNetpWWExNZlaqLE8aQW4K2F03bEWpYT7Lgqlr2Q5nqZhF3mOhH2pA5XRKShGksH3IrxnEf/s320/P9171366.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247737701489183938" /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTVHyIECDGBAePUEmPVmu6pqCoKrt9gf3MEi6sOiUEnexIND6gPIJv4h_XS1GEaiYeM7Wyk46FLkjIGCS6UOCBABbVoWrkl7WlgHU1i7GJG4_5E9uDypjKKxuj8AWOWAD6qHkTN1OYYa37/s320/P9171365.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247737697361387282" /><br /></div><div>After their morning block with their teacher (Noah just started perspective drawing and Dana's will be a math focus after they finish up botany), both kids have a variety of classes. Twice a week in addition to movement class they have: woodworking, handwork (knitting for Dana - they started with making the knitting needles out of wood and just chose their yarn, sewing for Noah), English, music (singing and playing the recorder), and German. The two German teachers are young college-age volunteers who are here for the year. Apparently it has been a long-standing program exchange program. For our kids it is quite a puzzle to learn German through Spanish, although both German teachers speak English well.</div><div><br /></div><div>Tom and Laural attend Escuela Mexicana classes three hours a day (grammar, vocabulary, and conversation) plus two hours a week of salsa dancing. We're also doing an hour of homework a day. The school is located in el centro, so we walk the kids to school along the panoramic ridge where we live, then head down to our school. It is yellows and oranges and has three levels, with the middle level having an open patio and the upper level a rooftop terrace where yesterday I had all my classes and got a little sunburned (it is also where the last photo on this blog was taken).</div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl7J0hF-bskXDDyXHTgWFGn153AcdAzX0gpxYp28yDiQ_aXVsrMIG4w7t5gtiIEo0Z4T-Va2oDz4uKao1zJVis20arnKGb859MDvBRdqYcCrTcQEgU9jGh1Z9EELrWbpcnb8i8rr55mD0M/s320/P9181368.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247737702988275586" /><br /></div><div>Most of the Waldorf students are Mexican, and we make small talk in Spanish with their families in the morning and afternoon. We talk longer in English with a family from Switzerland and others from Colorado and New Hampshire. After the social time, we say buenos tardes to the University of Guanajuato student who sells cheese on the corner, and head home to make smoothies and hear stories of blue mushrooms and blue classrooms.</div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzfGxvo_pHd8gPnqpYlWVtX70VOw4XGC722Xe5fEUWQoZ74bcoysla1N7npGvaY_v2FapVFkKbLXDemxazFegE3WCaVNGA1F7EXXjMnAoIdw-ZCl8d1ZvIkWf9e7rpHd79NY7FDnIVCznI/s320/P9041173.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247737707597054850" /><br /></div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-60645612350505038402008-09-09T07:35:00.000-07:002008-09-12T07:45:02.183-07:00Bienvenidos<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQEgC6nrg0KJxeXdCzqLVyqMBL8ngHm2oCh3dSihoSm5icZ6RnqKZ5yzDJbUAMHBRR-Vpe8VkOBCeMbU1ztJ8khMKOOVoo6d0sB4Nf4pgEzIH73LLd9uSLDKLJh7Vkwdb0W4FQ51DXB_9r/s1600-h/P9051181.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQEgC6nrg0KJxeXdCzqLVyqMBL8ngHm2oCh3dSihoSm5icZ6RnqKZ5yzDJbUAMHBRR-Vpe8VkOBCeMbU1ztJ8khMKOOVoo6d0sB4Nf4pgEzIH73LLd9uSLDKLJh7Vkwdb0W4FQ51DXB_9r/s320/P9051181.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245137095762601682" /></a><div>Living at 6700 feet, the elevation of Guanajuato, or 7000 feet, where our apartment is on a street aptly named Panoramica, makes me breathe a little harder than I would like as I hike up from el centro. If we stop for a moment along the way though, the amazing view is of multicolored buildings, interspersed with the domes of churches, layering out in every direction and topped with the rock and green mountains that ring the valley.<div><br /></div><div>Our neighborhood includes many dogs. We have a beagle next door, two pugs on the other side, and uncountable others who live on people's terraces or rooftops. We are learning to tune out barking dogs, although when Tom go</div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp3bPOqJgDC8ERSIrfkwFzpn9z_nsyDZ3X-3BKBXNk8fxvIE9ya8IHfMRxtPgUF6gFOCuvfZjfw6GUylzfp2jTEcRuk62TzUKHaQ2QFJt9Lz-diDwOp2sgfTxju7MzuPEgr_clX5CuUUuc/s320/P9041174.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245137104081859634" /><div>t up and checked one noisy night he watched cows passing by in the street below us. The soundtrack here also includes lots of fireworks going off (warming up for Independence Day mid-September), grumbly-geared buses and frequent music. Last night it was a New Orleans-like street band, often salsa wafts from bars below us and once we walked by a guy working on his car and blasting Michael Jackson.</div><div><br /></div><div><div>We are learning something new every day, and that's not even including our formal school time. Tom and Noah ventured to the tienda (a tiny store attached to a home) across the street for a five-gallon bottle of water. Now we know if you return the previous bottle, the charge is 22</div><div>pesos ($2.20 US dollars), and what the shop owner's living room looks like.</div><div><br /></div><div>A week into being here, we've followed many different callejones (little alley-pathways) down to el centro, wandered there to get our bearings, checked out a string of parks and little resevoir</div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIjKuMxrS5DnAVaTA5enUJkvH9pgPTpdos-R6ToWZy5HgXSJIUi14502dNL5V1bmlKsZVbE8bg3HLHhQNKknvzgpMvdq6mO_4ULveNF2SsxIcEU1ZtE-HzOdJq7hJKUdnrJxR6Y3GL9_3Y/s320/P9041179.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245137109345604402" />lakes on the edge of town, met interesting international folks, pantomimed with our energetic landlady, and of course started our schools.<div><br /></div><div>Noah and Dana are at <a href="http://www.freunde-waldorf.de/en/info/welt/mex-guanajato-0804/?print=1&type=98">Colegio Yeccan Waldorf</a>, a five-minute walk from the apartment on our same ridgetop, and Tom and I have classes at <a href="http://www.escuelamexicana.com/">Escuela Mexicana</a>. (If you do follow the links, the Michelle mentioned in the Waldorf article has the 7th grade now and is Noah's teacher, and both sites have some photos.) </div><div><br /></div><div>In the photo of Tom walking, the white building is our apartment building, and we're the second balcony up. What looks </div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiknDkSyVuKK-izKPxMgOl1xGMJwXC4j3NdrFm3nEmB2upW21LzYUCWVflIKoYVC_s24pNgKPxgFZt1F6pK3b93cEyvJTRWuzJK2Ge8FCwLJieAC5XKd_xgcHs1yA3KXMMne-oifDFdbYMI/s320/P9071201.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245137113616206290" />like a driveway closer to him is actually the start of the callejon we take up to the kids' school. More on our schools next post.<div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div></div></div></div></div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-7409104626671975222008-09-02T09:55:00.001-07:002008-09-02T10:04:41.387-07:00Shifting Photos<div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w472.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w472.photobucket.com/albums/rr89/lringler/b25c18b3.pbw" height="360" width="480"></embed><a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"><img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" /></a></div><div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://s472.photobucket.com/albums/rr89/lringler/?action=view&current=b25c18b3.pbw" target="_blank"><img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" /></a></div><div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-60261159125818107202008-09-02T08:00:00.000-07:002008-09-02T10:07:03.219-07:00Shift<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://s472.photobucket.com/albums/rr89/lringler/"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://s472.photobucket.com/albums/rr89/lringler/" border="0" alt="" /></a><div>Our week in San Diego involves shifting from bicycling trip mode to living in Mexico mode. The transition means adjusting the clothing and gear we have with us, trading bike panniers for backpacks, reviewing some basic Spanish, and adding books.</div><br /><div>Several sources have said it is difficult to locate English language books in Mexico, so we went to secondhand bookstores to load up for 10 or 25 cents a book. (Added a few new books as well, but only one hardback - The Magician, sequel to The Alchemist, which everyone read on the bike trip.) How many books will the four of us, typically pretty voracious readers, want to read while in Mexico? Heading into a completely new adventure, that is yet another aspect we cannot exactly predict.</div><br /><div>With my sister, we have visited the San Diego zoo, the community pool that has a huge water slides, the beach for another round of boogie boarding, the horse lady in the neighborhood so Dana and cousin Alexi could ride, and the three cousins have had plenty of play time. Meanwhile we're packing up the tandems to send home by Greyhound bus, cleaning and sorting the camping gear, wrapping up details (checking on the boy we hired to mow our lawn at home, purchasing shuttle tickets to get us to the Tijuana airport), and deciding where we will pack all those books.</div><br /><div>While it is bittersweet to let go of the bicycling, we're excited to shift to Mexico. And if you have a teen or want a little young adult literature, I'd recommend my friend Jennifer Bradbury's novel <a href="http://jennifer-bradbury.com/">SHIFT</a>, a well-told tale of two boys who bicycle across the United States after they graduate from high school and a mystery when one of them doesn't return.</div><br /><div>We fly south Sep 4, and will return to the States in January with stories to tell and (I hope!) conversational Spanish. Once I've navigated an internet connection in Guanajuato, I'll be able to report on settling in there. Meanwhile, we wish everyone well with their September transitions as back-to-school, work, and weather changes shift us all.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div> </div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-54444124002445276532008-08-27T11:06:00.001-07:002008-08-29T09:11:20.712-07:00The Tandemonium Concludes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAIhNZzWk-4Vz3jjTNlot9rqClRilwyZXpAaWh62Hhc53Vtl8c0_huErKakB49F_W0_1VTKWhmM9j0xKm-O75lqJCM6JF5UWPySgV2_6ol-8pzWRZQs-m7rBtrjWF8sqZ6zjBUu2GGhR_w/s1600-h/P8261101.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAIhNZzWk-4Vz3jjTNlot9rqClRilwyZXpAaWh62Hhc53Vtl8c0_huErKakB49F_W0_1VTKWhmM9j0xKm-O75lqJCM6JF5UWPySgV2_6ol-8pzWRZQs-m7rBtrjWF8sqZ6zjBUu2GGhR_w/s320/P8261101.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239972049710558978" /></a><br />At 5:27 pm Tuesday August 26, 2008, we rolled through the finish line in my sister's San Diego driveway (literally, they had a finish line streamer to break through!) with balloons and streamers waving, a welcome banner, music playing, and sister Amy, brother-in-law Karl, & neice Alexi cheering. Noah and Dana were presented with gold medals for "long distance tandem bicycling," we were handed cups of cold water (which was wonderful, it had been a hot and hilly afternoon of riding), and looked at the cycle computer: 1485 miles pedaled. Yahoo!<br /><br />After a day's bicycling adventure, with something new around every bend, we have our routines. The park ranger tells us whether we'll be paying $3 or $4 per person for the hiker/biker campsite (and whether Noah and Dana count as people, sometimes there's no charge for them), and the kids alternate setting up the tent or the stove. Showers are assessed for cleanliness and minutes of hot water per quarter (the range: no quarters needed to 2 quarters for 3 minutes). We roam to the beach to check out, as Dana says, "any special features." And we're in the tent at dark most nights, reading or looking at the maps of tomorrow's route or chatting about the day. It is a bit strange to stop all of that.<br /><br />We have had an amazing adventure in family fun (Noah and Dana are impressive athletes and great people, Tom was patient that I can't charge up the hills as fast as he can), wildlife experiences (male elephant seals have a loud throaty sound, hundreds of pelicans close overhead, Tom and Dana's tandem nearly running over a sleeping rattlesnake), <img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDsFtP4u8d33d5cu9nrSMyZEDU5nTCzO5mlhPSTBsOjSm-0N2ZO0TZLHueeZfy00BQNN_vbogspcsf4Yn_qPo3OQNBJLK4LjT0hLzIbafMNU74Vna-QNYMdqUbqIRWWDLUrmcdGR5XBnjH/s320/P8261104.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239972552838290402" />history appreciation (Point Reyes earthquake exhibits after a day riding the San Andreas fault, El Camino Real and the missions - we went to restorations in Lompoc, Santa Barbara and San Juan Capistrano), and lately, fruit smoothies everyday.<div><br />Oh wait, it is just the pedal journey that is finished. We'll enjoy a week of transition here at my sister's and get ready for our next adventure in Mexico. We taxed our bodies these last six weeks, and next we'll stretch our minds with studying Spanish in Guanajuato. The tandemonium concludes, but the adventures continue.</div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-62882615035713538112008-08-16T12:32:00.000-07:002008-08-29T08:44:35.270-07:00The People That You Meet<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOD1v2XbDrpl_Qwj7DguCFZ0vw5HksS7W21Voc73ItuxF50d9OY-JzusyjkZWJzxfehDGMyUW9NK0-QxULNkbeG3t_aROiFjBjxqQCowpzYR_4GaJLnUgUId5C5qHlsxHaXUogXIzIQcUG/s1600-h/P7270256.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOD1v2XbDrpl_Qwj7DguCFZ0vw5HksS7W21Voc73ItuxF50d9OY-JzusyjkZWJzxfehDGMyUW9NK0-QxULNkbeG3t_aROiFjBjxqQCowpzYR_4GaJLnUgUId5C5qHlsxHaXUogXIzIQcUG/s320/P7270256.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239965659459457058" /></a><br />When people ask about our travels, we tend to answer about place. For example today, "We're headed to Lompoc to camp, but we've pedalled over 1000 miles down the coast, starting from Eugene, Oregon and we're going to San Diego." But really, a lot of this is about the people.<br /><br />We met Brit on the train and a week later spent a day on the Oregon coast with him as our guide. A free spirit Buddhist ballroom dance instructor and balloon entertainer (we realized we'd seen him making balloon sculptures at the Co-op Party in Bellingham the day before we left on our trip), in Bandon we sampled candies at the candy shop with him, and wandered art exhibits where a harpist was playing.<br />We met Bigfoot trailer campers who invited us to share their site, a family from northern Wisconsin who gave us all their power bars and gels, Antonio from Italy who started his bicycle trip in Alaska and is headed to south America (he gave the kids M&Ms at the top of Leggett Hill, the biggest one on the trip), Ignacio and Daniella from Tucson (who the kids may have voted most fun adults met on the trip), and other cyclists in the hiker-biker sites and on the road. Then there are the brief interactions with local folks, like Woody, the security guard for a small set of stores, who walked up to Tom and said, "Did you lock up your unit, son? Want to do that." As you might imagine, we now repeat that line each time we leave the bikes to enter a grocery store.<br /><br />Today though, we parted ways with our cycling pals Mark & Jade after two fun-filled weeks riding together from San Francisco to a little past San Luis Obispo. We will miss their humor and companionship, and the kids will especially miss having someone their age to give them a break from mostly hanging out with their parents. The finale day was spent in the<img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqvwfe64EHoLtUX3HxyM7wukpVXJo2QfSxew1xytUqQk4qGLaldKQNALSTPS2-OzblJ5lGkFLk4E7L6ukXphIUxEJ_lQDBsPYrANdNajJrph8kPUgNfoDkDCa1BAsRQrDtcNOUmiJ1LENZ/s320/P8140741.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239965657694526370" /> campground pool for the morning, in the ocean boogie boarding for the afternoon, and with ice cream and pizza (the latter carried back to the campground by the stokers while we rode) for dinner.<br /><br />We'll look forward to seeing who we get to meet next, after all we met Mark & Jade while cycling in Canada six years ago, when Dana was 4 and Noah was 6. Sometimes the people that you meet not only enrich your life, they become great friends.Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-85352995479754351912008-08-10T06:31:00.000-07:002008-08-29T08:51:16.192-07:00The Road Giveth and the Ocean Taketh Away<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDdKNPjhg0LuVa5QTw_RvnEzxSlhEAXGj15dgInWKsvqONgSOfHQ12m6jwkeg_aiuYdV_2Fr7Uzq3esm5jmOgLPp1OnZKm106vLESZr4HMn_HXkjk1M8thtaiVa9RjKnf8vistNgYrxUp/s1600-h/P8140755.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDdKNPjhg0LuVa5QTw_RvnEzxSlhEAXGj15dgInWKsvqONgSOfHQ12m6jwkeg_aiuYdV_2Fr7Uzq3esm5jmOgLPp1OnZKm106vLESZr4HMn_HXkjk1M8thtaiVa9RjKnf8vistNgYrxUp/s320/P8140755.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239967441262912034" /></a><br />One game we play while bicycling is noting the items on the roadside and imagining them, found materials art-style, to be building a scarecrow. We saw a shirt and a hat to begin with, many gloves (an octopus-armed scarecrow?) and socks, and the winner for multiples - towels. Dana decided that the scarecrow would be a girl with a full skirt made of towels. We've seen shoes (including a set of hiking boots and a single orange leopard print knee-high boot) and now we picture our scarecrow to have a similarly outfitted family and be in a living room (due to all the furniture seen, including a wooden chair next to a No Dumping sign) crocheting (red yarn, looked like a potholder). <div><br /></div><div>Of course some found items, like shells at the seashore, catch our fancy in that we can use them on our venture, so we decide whether their owners could possibly return for them or we should clean up the roadside a little. We stopped for a pair of cycling leg warmers and another day for a set of long-fingered gloves (usually you just see singles), and are thinking a bun</div><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEb_2HDb2lkJysq1fC4vQSRyxQaLJVULJnj3VT3MZJujG1_Z9g0RyNY_hXUZEmHTC-LBMjgJJ8mJwbGX6LWmU6-x-V1cY6cPwOnX4isnhX1QuSPFE98VYEkOqdNUcWyenHyIXeZRIpevM-/s320/P8100517.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239967440841885746" /><div>gy cord will come our way (you see lots of them, so we're picky and are waiting for one that wouldn't interrupt a screaming downhill).</div><div><br /></div><div>The ocean, on the other hand, grabbed Noah's glasses when a big wave surprised him. The adults on the beach ran into the water to effect a search of the area, both Tom and our friend Glen (who had come over from Palo Alto with his family) forgetting they had cell phones in their pockets. The ocean then claimed both. Well, we have the phones but ours has an interesting design of water droplets and salt crystals in the display.</div><div><br /></div><div>So today we thank Migahm/Anne, Denny, and Midori for their hospitality, and pedal on with Mark and Jade (who joined us in San Francisco) to Monteray to find the Lenscrafters that can help Noah see better. We'll be back on the road, and cycling beside the ocean, appreciating both. </div>Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3171735883760078077.post-42345045531419474752008-08-04T11:30:00.000-07:002008-08-29T08:39:09.872-07:00Just Add Water<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW8sZNOoTFkNzBSD2d_7r6ZA4fqq_TUcDxGtwuf-MBRRJib_Kh6SHNHHxCpaaufsB554m-ikukHygVsmAtixix1Y7lajxPGzsBW-p9X7i64Rz6cWDVnw3VR3Bf7y6fn94EBafiICwdJ4Pv/s1600-h/P7210144.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW8sZNOoTFkNzBSD2d_7r6ZA4fqq_TUcDxGtwuf-MBRRJib_Kh6SHNHHxCpaaufsB554m-ikukHygVsmAtixix1Y7lajxPGzsBW-p9X7i64Rz6cWDVnw3VR3Bf7y6fn94EBafiICwdJ4Pv/s320/P7210144.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239964548682903778" /></a><br /><br />While the Eel River may sound not so yummy, we found that it had several choice swimming holes. Dana spent a couple hours in the river-rock smooth bottomed Eel at Benbow Lake State Recreation Area - where we were charged $6 to camp.<br /><br />After another hilly day, we were still along the Eel and found an amazing sandy beach swimming hole, with the requisite quarry-like rock wall for cliff jumping. Tom got in on that (but not from as high as the local teens) and both kids jumped in from maybe 10 feet up. Laural just swam until the sun went down behind the cliffs and then we treked back up to the hiker-biker camp (where there was lots of company, 5 other folks also traveling the coast).<br /><br />The kids have also swum at the Eureka KOA (handy to have them in their swimsuits while we laundered everything else), and gotten completely soaked in<img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwTIIQPcjUW3pB3h2r0q38FXu_5W5jz1KHoL7833uK9g2kOnMbyrB7mOyqr5OFr1wJpTxZKnFfjTzvYhaX6mxUnBFziJPdksIu1aD4JvxLO7Fbuke_lVCM7xTMtxmSTa7FaTXj9TGfj_FJ/s320/P7220178.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239963975953521106" /> the Pacific waves. Those crashers are loud and taller than they are, so it has deterred them actually swimming.<br /><br />We're applying lots of sunscreen, have passed the 700 miles cycled mark, and make sure we add water to the itinerary almost every day. Noah says he updated his audio blogs, and next computer time will figure out how to organize them!Laural Ringlerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00585150899960889694noreply@blogger.com2