Sunday, March 04, 2007
There is a poncho in my closet. Actually I have three in there but this entry is about one of them in particular. It is light brown and loosely sewn, so you have to wear a shirt under it. It has two flowers (red) in the middle of the part that hangs over the chest. I saw this poncho recently in a photo and I remembered how much it meant to me. When I was 23 I went to Mexico for the first time. The man I was in love with one had a death in his family and overnight I lost my lover to Mexico. It was devastating. So I booked a plane ticket to Acapulco. I went over Christmas time because I had just gotten back into school and I had almost a month off to be down there. I did an early Christmas with my family and my stepmother had bought me this beautiful poncho. It was perfect for the trip and I was stunned at how perfectly it suited me. The picture that I have of myself wearing the poncho is at a place in Acapulco called la Quebrada. It is a famous part of the city where skilled divers go to jump off the tall cliffs into a narrow abyss that fluctuates with the tide of the ocean. The atmosphere at the place is full of excitement and nervous energy. One wrong step, one second too late and the famous cliff diver will have a broken neck or cracked skull. There is an alter at the top of la Quebrada with the Virgin Mary there. Each diver will jump into the water from a shallow spot, swim across the abyss and then climb up the side of the cliffs. Once they get to the top they will take turns praying in their Speedos to the virgin to keep them safe through the dive. They will then jump and twist and flip and leap on blind faith and practice into the dark and rocky waters below them. It is amazing and stressful, like most things in Mexico.
This is from a journal entry from that trip, brace yourself – it’s almost too much brilliance:
12/18/02 Acapulco - Mexico
This morning started at 7:00am – no wonder though, we were knocked out by 9:30pm last night. Yesterday on the way to the beach, in the pick-up truck with the old man driving, I got my first taste of the smothering Acapulco sun. Paco blew on my head to cool me.
He cools me with his breath, gives me his own air. Sleeping tangled up in one another, he kisses me in front of his mother and she smiles warmly. Luise is silent only staring into the expanse. I made tortillas this morning, with my hands.
Barefooted, outdoor plumbing, dumping buckets of water onto my hot skin, loving the way he loves me, passionate afternoon loving gives way to sun stroked siesta with feverish dreams of the morning’s ventures down from this mountain. Relax, slow down, talking fats, moving slow. At every turn children singing, grown ups praying, teenagers fighting, lovers embracing – he takes my hand everywhere we go and I know – all he’s got is his pride.
So everyday I find myself giving me the same little support talk about not getting trapped into a life I do not want. I guess when it’s all said and done I won’t. I will live the life I am able to create to the fullest.
Every fucking day, every fucking minute, I have doubts. I want a magnificent life and I guess I just imagined doing that alone and I feel so damn guilty about pulling someone else into my web. I guess the thing is, I never wanted this to begin with and now I am completely involved and continuously scrambling to re-arrange and re-adjust all of those dreams. I keep praying to the universe to guide me and give me what I want and need and deserve. To give me what is aligned for me.
How I feel About Paris Today
When I wrote the previous journal entries, my life in Paris was not such a distant memory, as it is becoming these days. I was still freshly back in the states from Paris. Today, I am missing it all the same. It seems that at the time, Paco was the largest possible obstruction between me and Paris, today it appears that my own fears and needs are the largest obstructions to a life in Paris. This is an important piece for me. When I did eventually leave Paco I vowed to always stay true to what I want in life. Hugo is not an obstruction; I can no longer blame it on a relationship. It seems that leading a brilliant life is sometimes about putting yourself out on a limb and taking a jump into the unknown – not unlike the cliff diver’s at La Quebrada. It takes skill and practice to land correctly, but it takes blind faith and a prayer to the virgin to get your feet off the cliff.