You left us on the last days of July, I do not know exactly the date but when you were found it seems you had been sleeping peacefully.

We had been first colleagues and acquaintances and then slowly we became friends, good friends. We shared quite a few things, such as our profession, our love for languages and our undiluted love for cats.  You were a few years older than I and had lived a very full life, with many interesting experiences some of which you shared with me during our talks.

You were born in Paris, your parents were, if I remember correctly, from the region of Odessa but had settled in France quite a few years before the WWII, they were dentists and therefore you never feared that profession or their doing, while I have always been scared stiff about anything to do with dentistry, which you found amusing.  As a child during the holidays and in the deepest points of the War you were sent to your cousins in the French countryside where you learned the life of hard work.  As you got older you studied Architecture in Paris and after got a scholarship, the prestigious Fulbright scholarship to study in a University in Texas, USA.  The time there was not used only to study, you also travelled extensively in the USA and also visited Mexico several times.  I guess that is how you started accumulating your incredible language skills.  Russian at home, French at school, English in Texas together with Spanish and by then you were only in your twenties.  Later you added Catalan and much later came Japanese. 

 

I know you married twice and had two children, Patricia, now living in Spain and Serge, sadly preceded you to the land of angels.  I only know your last husband, surviving you for as long as it takes, and who loves you dearly and you him.  He is a Swiss peasant that grew fruits and bees – made delicious honey and also was a ski instructor during the winter months and is known by many and loved by more.  Unfortunately now he has some limitations due to bad health but for all I know, is still the darling and dear man he ever was.   

I do not know exactly how and when you became an interpreter, but I do know you were a good one, very good one and also very “useful” as you had the ideal combination for work in the UN system with Russian and Spanish into French.  You had a style for interpretation that could be unnerving for certain delegates and some of your colleagues as you waited to understand the phrase before putting it into the language of destination, and this method though could be considered more accurate, is also slower and forces the interpreter to transmit the rounded up idea and not only the words.  I never heard any valid criticism of your work and when there were complaints, mostly was due to either wrong transmission in the original language or to the well known system of using the interpreters as punching bags, i.e. when a delegate wants to retract or change his speech but cannot say so, will criticise the interpreters that “did not do it correctly” and sometimes may cause problems for the interpreters. I believe most of us have either lived or seen this situation and there is very little that can be done to defend ourselves.  It happened to you and of course you reacted in anger, in silent anger for the most part, but not much to be done about it.

As mentioned above, your first profession was Architect, which you performed until your last breath.  During your long life you met and even worked with some of the best-known architects of your time and also you were quite well known for your interesting and ecological projects, which at that time were a novelty.  You loved the use of wood in as many buildings as possible and were always ready to learn new ways and systems and options to add to your professional performance.  Your last project is still on the works, some kind of village centre in Zambia conceived to help the local community to make the better use of the available resources.  I hope it comes to a happy end with the help of your associate and friend that probably will take over till its conclusion. 

You also were an avid lover of art, painting, photography, music, literature, etc. and already when you lived in St. Cerge – well before I met you, you had a Gallery where you showed works of art of different painters and other artists.  It was called the Gallerie B.C.C.L. and the site, which you created, is a proof of the diversity of artists you helped to promote.  When you moved to Begnins, you continued with the idea of the Gallerie and reopened it in the same office space where you had your Bureau d’Architecture and it was a great success.  I myself was twice given the opportunity to show my photos in the Gallerie.   I know you had artists anxiously waiting for a space-time to expose in your gallery but that almost certainly and unfortunately will no longer be possible without you. For those of us lucky to have been able to show our work, you always had a word of praise, a helping hand and also an economic support since contrary to most galleries, you never charged commission, you offered the apero as part of the service and were always available to give a hand in all the process, from hanging to cleaning up at the end not to mention you always were present welcoming all visitors to the exhibitions. 

I already mentioned you loved music, and in particular you loved tango, milonga and the like.  I guess in your early times you were a good dancer but at the time I met you you enjoyed listening and watching tango dancers.  That does not mean you did not like classical music, so much so that we had tickets to go to a concert of the well-known Argentinean pianist Martha Argerich at the end of this August.  I am sure you will be there even if we cannot see you, it will be a concert you would not miss.

Horticulture was your hobby and in particular growing bonsai trees and camellias.  You have a good collection of them and I hope someone will continue taking good care of them with the same dedication you gave them.  I remember one of your “folies” when you went from Begnins to Tokyo and return in matter of 5 days, just to talk with a master bonsai grower and meet a camellia specialist, both of whom gave you cuttings that you preciously smuggled into Switzerland and tenderly took care of and now they are part of the many in your collection.

One of the things you did not like, even if you did it over many years was to cook.  Cooking and all it involved from shopping to clearing afterwards were for you something of a un-enjoyable necessity.  That is, I believe, one of the reasons why on Saturdays you declared your independence from cooking chores and if it was winter it was your husband in charge of preparing the fondue at home and during the summer months the tradition was to go to La Chaumette for fondue – a mountain restaurant where you could enjoy a fantastic view of the Alps, the company of cows having their fill and a very pleasant couple taking care of all your food needs.  Many people I know consider having fondue in the summer like a crazy thing, but actually having partaken the tradition many times with you two, it was very pleasant.  For starters sometimes some cold cuts with bread and butter and pickles and then delicious fondue and to top it all a very Swiss meringue with double cream all with very nice tea. 

Last week we deposited your remains in your former house, in a very sober and quiet ceremony.  We were about ten people only and it was I believe a representation of your world.  Many people knew you, but when it came to socializing, it was a very limited group of people you favoured.  I am honoured to have been one of them and I am sure now you are resting in peace, with a nice view of the lake, your garden and your house.

It was great to meet you and be your friend, and now closing the cycle, I can say GOOD BYE DEAR FRIEND until we meet again.

VERY SAD continuation

Last Wednesday, August 16 and only two weeks to the day of your passing, I learned that your husband Gilbert – you called him Gibus, followed you to the kingdom of angels. 

I knew him of course, but not as well as I had known you.  He was born close to where you lived and had lived all his life in the area.  My memories of Gibus are that he was always kind and gentle, welcoming and smiling even in the hard times.  A very hard worker in a profession that required a lot of physical effort.  The quality of his produce were witness of his labour of love and love for nature. 

As I mentioned before, he had been a ski instructor and so when the chance came for you to go to Japan for several weeks during the winter, as interpreter, he joined you and both enjoyed the Japanese slopes as much as the Swiss ones when at home. 

His Saturday fondues during the winter months were very good.  I believe he loved his bees and they returned this feeling making a very good honey.  Otherwise he enjoyed the traditional Saturday fondues at La Chaumette, you two alone or with company and up there it was obvious that all loved and respected both of you very much. 

It is indeed sad that he left us but on the other hand I believe that even with his health problems, he realized that you were no longer around and decided to follow you, find you and enjoy your angelical outings and fondues together.

So dearest Gibus and Flore, enjoy it wherever you are, I am sure you will be together and waiting for us with a smile.

Continuing with the leisurely rhythm of leisure activities, the day after the boat trip on lake Geneva I went to a concert of classical music in the Castle of Tannay.  The program was much to my liking, Strauss, the first piano concerto of Beethoven and the 8^th symphony of Beethoven also.  The musicians were the Cameristi della Scala de Milan, excellent and the concert was fantastic, I enjoyed it very much.

The piece of Strauss was a concerto for clarinet, bassoon, harp and strings that I had never heard before and when I closed my eyes I could see young people playing and singing and having fun following the music or being followed by it.  It was a happy and joyful music.  

The piano concerto I believe is quite well known and I enjoyed it very much.  When I closed my eyes I was almost reliving the many concerts I had been to with my father.  He used to take me every year to the whole season of the Philharmonic Orchestra of Mexico since I was about 7 or 8 years old and taught me to appreciate the music and also to stay quiet and just enjoy it, without movement, which as a child was kind of difficult.  He would place his hand on my knee or hand or whatever was moving following the music and transmitted a soothing calm. This time I could almost feel his hand on my hands that were moving on their own. I do not know if he ever heard this piece but I am sure he would have enjoyed it as much as I did.  

The 8^th symphony is also very well known and the performance was great. I am sure all the audience enjoyed it very much and again in closing my eyes I was able to travel in time and space to many of the concert halls I have been to in my life all over the planet, some old some new, the acoustics most of the time very good and the orchestras performing to the top of their capacity.  Somehow I had the feeling that the music was taking me in a trip of remembrance of music and places past that I do not remember often but all of a sudden all came back pushing one another to jump out of my dormant brain into the lively memories.  

At the end after a long round of applauses we all left the idyllic place of the Castle to return tour own worlds, I am sure enriched by the experience of having heard some fantastic music.  I have always wondered how the composers could imagine all the notes in the order they put them to make it sound so beautiful, I wish that for a moment I had the same ability but not being the case I am happy to be able to enjoy it and take advantage of the chances offered. 

RETURN TO LEISURE (6)

When I was a kid my father and I enjoyed reading of clouds or seeing in them other things than a conglomerate of raindrops.  Of course you need to have a good sky with solid clouds that may be readable and that even if they change, allow you to identify forms and images.  I have always enjoyed this exercise and living along the lake I have always had the possibility of seeing animals, houses, forests, dragons or birds, flame throwing clouds or flying dolphins.    Hope you can find the forms I found or others and let me know.  Enjoy

RETURN TO LEISURE (7)  

Last segment of my leisure activities of the month of August is a concert I attended last Sunday, with the KOB Chamber Orchestra of Basel, the soloist was Maria Joao Pires, renown pianist of undisputed genius. 

The first piece was Le Tombeau de Couperin, by Ravel relatively sombre but magnificently played.  Then came what I believe was la piece de resistance, Concerto for piano nr. 23, by Mozart, with Maria Joao Pires, Portuguese pianist well known and admired all over the world.  It was extraordinary rendition with the feeling that oozed through the notes.  The hall was full without empty seats and during the concert you could hear a pin drop – and a cane or two also – as all were attentive and enwrapped by the music.  At the end of course the applauses went on and on and on until Ms. Pires agreed to play an encore, an impromptu by Bach with the spirit and performance in stark contrast to the Beethoven concerto and proof also of Ms. Pires versatility.  The closing piece was the 2^nd. Symphony of Gounod, which was a perfect closure not only of the concert but also of the whole Festival, as this was the last concert of the season. 

I believe we all enjoyed the whole concert very much and as encore the orchestra played La Poule, of Rameau, orchestrated by Respighi.  I am sure I had heard it but in a live performance it revived all the joy of the piece and all its lightness and happiness. An excellent choice for a happy and joyous concert. 

On these happy and light notes, we returned tour respective homes and lives with, I hope, a light heart and smile in the spirit.  

The month is ending, so as return to leisure goes, I believe it was a quite active leisurely time, most enjoyable and enjoyed.

Thanks for reading and eventually commenting on this.

If you read my piece of BACK TO WORK, you know now I am back doing my regular nothing or as little as possible, and definitely enjoying it very much.

After my stint in my former job, it took me a while to recover the rhythm of a retiree, where one activity a day is enough to have “full days” and the rest of the hours are spent reading, playing with my kitties and plain doing nothing, but slowly so it lasts!

RETURN TO LEISURE (2) 

On the first day of August, Switzerland celebrates its national day, where tradition says that fires are lit on the top of the mountains to commemorate the messages sent by the first Swiss to communicate and signal danger or good things.  Also as part of the celebrations, fireworks are organized in every town or commune to enhance the festive mood.  However, this year we have suffer of a terrible drought and lack of rain, most of the grasses are burnt by the scorching sun and very high temperatures and in many other countries around Switzerland forests have been burning and looses are incredible to forestry and agriculture due to lack of rain and of water in general.  

So many communes have forbidden setting fireworks to prevent any potential fire that could become really dangerous, except of course if the fireworks can be organized in the middle of the lakes – when they have water, as many are as dry as a desert.  

One of the problems of fireworks, besides the danger of starting forest fires, is that they tend to be loud, very loud even and that most animals do not like that noise, as thunders are also scary and I imagine cannons would also be.  My two cats are not the exception so when the fireworks started they both took cover under the bed or under a sofa and remained there for the duration.  At first I did not recognize the noise of the fireworks as I was sure there would be none, but curiosity, that killed the cat but not me, forced me to go out and find to my great surprise and pleasure that fireworks were on, in the middle of the lake and that they were really great.  The Castle of Nyon, which I can see from my balcony, was all lit in the national red with white crosses.  The show lasted almost 30 minutes and it was really nice, beautiful and noisy but once a year is not too bad.

It was a moment of beauty most enjoyable and the weather was being very well behaved also.  

During this month of August I also celebrated my birthday and the day was full as I received beautiful flowers and many many messages with good wishes and friendly thoughts that made my day, and also I had dinner with my dearest friend that came from far away just for that.

RETURN TO LEISURE??  (3)

But not all was rosy as I had a tooth that suddenly woke up and realized it could be a pain in the …. mouth, a really big pain, and of course it started on Friday late afternoon, when most dentists are already gone, looking forward to a relaxing week-end, while I was suffering and my face got all distorted and all the horrible things associated with teeth.  I have total absolute horror of anything to do with dentists, visit for control is already a big stress, but when I know they will have to get into my mouth and pick and peck inside with their spiky instruments of torture, it is almost unbearable.  Some people almost faint at the sight of a spider or the idea of taking a plane, well, for me it is dentists.   However it had to be done so there I am courageous and forcing myself into the cabinet, where a very nice young lady told me not to worry – making all even worse but she did not know that.  I asked for a major doses of anaesthetics even before she started considering what to do and she obliged, a doses for big bulky heavy pachyderm went into my mouth but their effect was zero, zilch, nada…  so she could not even consider taking a look, prescribed antibiotics to reduce the inflammation/infection and sent me home.  The reprieve was almost worse but after few days all looked normal and after about 10 days I had to go back, knowing that this time I was not going to escape so easily.  

The doomsday finally arrived and she again obliged with a massive doses of anaesthetics and this time after a while they worked, so in she goes, well not she but her hand and the spiky instruments and pliers and whatever else she used to dislodged the little bit of tooth that was left after a caries that had been fixed some years ago, a crown set and then dislodged and swallowed and the bit of tooth left there to be a witness to the solidity of teeth and the frailty of my courage.  

The hole left in my mouth feels like one of those sinkholes that appear in the crust of the planet and can swallow cars and houses and everything.  When I try to gage it with my tongue it almost feels as if my brain is going to escape through it.  Luckily the brain is in short supply and is being kept in place by some bony structures and blood vessels and other things inside, so for the time being no brain leakage!!  

After the successful extraction I returned home, took a painkiller and a looong nap, trying to forget my ordeal.  The sinkhole really behaved well, did not bleed very much, did not hurt – painkillers oblige, and in general has been ok, but I still feel the hole probably three times its real size.  I have to go for a control in a few days and hope the dentist will consider all is well and I do not have to return to them in the near future – for dentistry purposes, I consider a near future in the next 15 years or so! 

And this is back to Leisure!!!

RETURN TO LEISURE (4) 

Continuing with my routine that one activity a day is already a full day, and only two days after my mouth was woman handled without pity for a miserable little piece of tooth, I had a far more pleasant activity.  

I have to explain first that when a person turns 60, (s)he becomes a Senior and has some limited privileges such as joining the groups and organizations established for Seniors, then when you turn 70 in many communes of Switzerland the communal government organizes an outing for the oldies, they call us nicely “ainees” but it really means the ones that are in the forth or fifth age, i.e. beyond 70.  Of course the outing is not a walking trip to the mountains or marathons or the like, but simple outings to have a nice day, not too much movement or extraneous exercise.  

For me this one was the first opportunity since the year I turned 70 I had just left hospital and was in no state to take a walk, even in my own flat, then Covid arrived and ruined all the plans of outings for a couple of years, especially in big groups and then this year we are all daredevils and decided to take advantage of the invitation.  

The meeting point was by the pier of my town.  I arrived early to make sure I found parking for Choqui and then went to the meeting point.  And suddenly lots of people started arriving from all corners of the place, in small or large groups with the common denominator that most had white hair or were bottle blond or bottle redheaded.  Very few of us were natural brunettes with few white hair and of course the number of canes and walking sticks and walkers was great.  There were few “youngsters” to help in the logistics of embarking all of us on the MS Lausanne, big boat that services the various ports of Lake Geneva and that had been freighted for our outing.  The boat holds up to 1,200 persons, but for the occasion it was only for us the oldies, and we were ONLY 500!!!  

The weather was magnificent and the sun shining in full splendour, all were happy and smiling and looking forward to a nice tour of the lake.  Once in the high seas of the lake we started towards Geneva and seen from the water, the coastline looks different, it was fun to identify the various towns by their churches, castles, houses or lack of.  In the meantime we also enjoyed the company of others, met some for the first time others were known from before, so the mood was relaxed, the lunch was pleasant, and finally we arrived close to Geneva, with the international world of Geneva with its very distinct buildings, where I had worked so many years, then the Bains de Paquis with the lighthouse and the pier full of people having fun, enjoying the sun and just doing nothing in a good spirit.  

Since the boat cannot go further into the city it turned around and all the while we were enjoying the famous Jet d’eauwhich is a landmark of Geneva and that was in full splendour showing all why the city is beautiful.  As background one could see the spires of the Cathedral and also the ferry wheel installed in the English Garden.  We started the return to my town always enjoying the tour, with live music in case you wanted to dance, which some oldies did and of course as is normal, the trip back home was faster than the outgoing tour. 

Nonetheless, it was a very pleasant day with a four hours tour of the lake, good company and excellent panoramas.  The return to terra firma was as usual a bit chaotic as everyone wanted to debark soon but in general all went well, I returned home and had a quiet nap.  Too much socializing for a single day but ready to do it again next year if all goes well. 

….. continues in the next chapter, RETURN TO LEISURE (5)

It is July 2022 and I have been officially retired 13 years!  And during the 5 or 6 years after retirement I continued to work, much less and always with great joy.  

I worked for an international organization with the benefits that it gave me, and in counterpart of course I lost my freedom of choice on when to take holidays, and for how long, but I had other fringe benefits that to me were valuable.  I was also very lucky that where I worked I had mostly very good colleagues and enjoyed most of my time there.  There were of course some people that were unbearable, disgusting, disagreeable, mean and outright horrid, but they were a very small number.  As interpreter, after retirement I had the chance of being able to work freelance as the independent colleagues that have chosen that mode of work.  Of course the number of days I worked was greatly reduced, as I was filling gaps or doing some minor assignments, but all that suited me fine.  

Later on, exactly on the year I turned 70 I had an operation that went well, but left me out of circulation for a while and then Covid 19 struck, which made me stop during almost 2 years.  During the second half of last year I worked again as interpreter and this year started slow, but all of a sudden in May I was called to work and it became almost a non stop situation, especially because for several big meetings I was asked to practically go back to my old job as Chief Interpreter with all the extra work that that implies.   

The real Chief Interpreter was absent for reasons that do not concern this story; suffice it to say that being unavailable her boss asked several freelancers and finally settle with me as the longest-serving chargée d’affaires. 

Among the things I did in that job, was to make the lists of assignments, I called them “sudokus”, where one has to pay attention that all language combinations are correct, that the number of sessions for each interpreter are not excessive, that all sessions are covered conveniently and that the meetings end on time.  If they start late, is their loss as any wasted time does waste interpretation time assigned. 

The sudokus are fun to make, but hard work, as mistakes are not allowed.  I always liked to do them, but that is not the case for all interpreters.  Already when I was a staff member there were some computer programs that did them, and although I never saw them, I was told the result was very good.  I remember having asked my bosses to get one for my organization but at the time they were penny-pinching and considered them very expensive.  They are still penny pinching, but I hope they will find the moneys to get one if they are as good as they say.  

Besides the sudokus one has to make sure all meetings are well manned – or womanned or whatever in the modern inclusive language that I do not master – yet.  All this meant that I had to arrive early and leave not as early as I wanted, to make sure all meetings were over and the program for the following session or day was in order and delivered to the interpreters.  

The long hours were strangely (?) tiring, I realized that what before was a normal day/week for me now had become a hard thing and when I got back home I was ready to collapse, almost.  To make all things worse, these last two weeks Europe as a whole has been on the grip of a heat wave that could be a heat tsunami, strong, big and long. The work place is air-conditioned but not so the outside world and that was hard.

It is not the same the three musketeers (in their youth) than 13 years after their retirement, how true!!! 

Back to work also had a very pleasant side to it.  When I was the chief of course I had regular and sometimes frequent contacts with the interpreters that regularly worked in my organization.  As a matter of my policy, although I liked most of them, I tried not to become friends with them, as I thought that was the only way to keep a distance that allowed me to set the rules and make them follow them.  For me, that worked although of course that was not conducive to establish close friendships with my colleagues.

Once I retired I could have become friendlier with them, at least some, but it was a bit the situation of “when I want you do not and when you do, I don’t”.  Becoming friend with many of them was difficult and only worked in a very limited number of cases.  I remained in friendly terms with most of them, of course, but nothing more. 

Then this period of many meetings where I was in charge came and gave me the opportunity to see many of them again, in some instances I had not seen them for years or only crossed briefly during the breaks of meetings.  It was an unexpected pleasure to realize that many of them greeted me very well and for the most part did not have any problem in accepting me as chargée d’affaires.  This made my work so much easier because although there were long hours, I did not have to add the burdensome problem of dealing with problematic colleagues.  I am certain that their behaviour towards me helped in great part to the enjoyment I had during these weeks. 

Since the creation of the post of Chief Interpreter in my organization, which I was the first to hold, I have gone through three supervisors.  The first one was a Brit who was quite punctilious in the little details of the job, but at the same time did not know much about it, which offered me the opportunity to create the structure, establish the links with homologues in other organizations and to a certain extent, do what was necessary for the job to be done and the post to be anchored in the organizational structure. 

My second boss was also a Brit, but had been a translator before becoming the boss of the whole sector, so he did understand most of the things pertaining to my job, but he could not have done them himself.  He trusted me to do what was needed and for the most part left me alone to do it, with minimum interference and for him it was enough to know what was going on and that I was on it.  

When my retirement arrived, mandatory at 60 at the time, he was instrumental for making sure that my successor was in place BEFORE I really retired.  This was and still is a rarity, as it seems that HR lets go long time between someone leaving a post vacant and finding the replacement.  The reasons given are many and some more or less plausible or believable, but my job was the exception as David and I proved to the organization that without a chief interpreter nothing could be done properly and that only a professional interpreter could do the job. 

Now, going back to work almost continuously for some weeks, I had a third boss, this time not a Brit but he is an interpreter himself although he joined the organization translator and then climbed to be the head of the whole sector of translation and interpretation. 

So three different bosses for the interpretation section, one that did not know much but trusted me, other that knew a bit more and luckily also trusted me and the third that knows about the job and that maybe also trusts me but still wants to be around to make sure all is in order, maybe due to the absence of the real Chief Interpreter plus his personal interest in the running of the section. 

Sometimes his presence is not easy to handle as he wants to be everywhere, if possible issue instructions not always easy to integrate in the running of the meeting from the interpretation side, and also while playing the bridge between the administration in general and the sector of interpreters, sometimes he accepts things that should not be and offers services that cannot always be easily provided.  

Happily for me this is over, I finished my contract and now I am home writing this thoughts that may or may not interest my few readers and also enjoying the company of my dear cats Gordis and Peque and taking it easy.  

Thanks for reading until the end and a note to the powers that be, I am ready to go back to work, but in assignments of short duration.  

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Tratando de ver cuales han sido mis actividades durante estos meses, digamos desde enero 2020 cuando se empezó a hablar seriamente de covid19 y comenzaron a señalarse los casos de enfermos mas o menos graves y los llamamientos a cuidarse, etc. etc.  

Al principio pasé bastante tiempo leyendo o escuchando o viendo los noticieros, tratando de entender lo que pasaba y qué se podía hacer para protegerse.  Lo primero que me llamó fuertemente la atención fue la necesidad de protegerme al respirar para no aspirar el bicho pendenciero que nos rodeaba y que parecía que estaba en todas partes, hasta en la sopa y que por ser chiquito y malora no se dejaba aplastar cual cucaracha vil.  

Por supuesto en todos los medios sociales empezaron a ofrecer mascaras que según la publicidad te protegían del covid19 y de todos los otros virus y bichos habidos y por haber. Las mas simples por supuesto no se encontraban ni con la linterna de Diógenes, las pocas que podría haber habido estaban acaparadas por médicos, hospitales, farmacias y aquí, por el ejercito que había pasado pedido por varios millones.   Así que todo el mundo o casi comenzó a fabricar mascaras de tela, de papel, con filtro, sin, con formas especiales para que los o las que utilizan lápiz labial no dejaran el morro plasmado en la máscara, también se hicieron para ir conformes con los vestuarios, de telas mas o menos bonitas, lavables o de uso único. 

MASCARAS COMO SI FUERA CARNAVAL

Las recomendaciones eran salir lo menos posible a lugares concurridos tipo tiendas y luego de un tiempo tampoco se recomendaba ir a restaurantes y luego definitivamente se cerraron los lugares de reunión y así los cines, teatros, restaurantes, bares, cafés, grandes o chiringuitos todos pasaron por la misma regla.  Si querían podían guisar para ofrecer entrega a domicilio, pero no siempre era viable. 

Muchas personas tuvieron que volver a los viejos tiempos de guisar en casa todos los días y tres veces al día a menos que hicieran dieta y sólo comieran dos veces al día o estuvieran en la triste situación de sólo poderlo hacer una vez al día pues con tantas restricciones de salida, también hubo la consecuente pérdida de trabajo y fueron muchos miles o tal vez millones que se quedaron en la calle, social y realmente.  Algunos gobiernos intervinieron para proteger a las personas que tenían rentas que no podían pagar o hipotecas que no alcanzaban a cubrir y costos de vida como electricidad, agua y teléfono que no llegaban, por no mencionar los gastos médicos que en muchos casos se volvieron prohibitivos.  No todos los países cuentan con sistemas de seguridad social o de seguros privados obligatorios que les permitan cubrir esos gastos así que cuando necesitas oxigeno y no hay con qué, menos habrá para una tortilla o un chápate o un poco de arroz.  

Yo tengo una gran suerte de no estar en ese caso de necesidad y así me pude dar el lujo de guisar cosas que me gustan y que creo son bastante sanas aunque los cuernitos, panes de chocolate o chocolatinas y los pasteles no sean ni sanos ni buenos para la línea, al menos la línea recta. 

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En agosto 2020, para mi cumpleaños, todavía no habían cerrado los restoranes o no todos y así cuando vino Ursito me invitó a uno de nuestros restaurantes favoritos donde sirven un único plato:  carnita con mantequilla Café de París acompañada de papas fritas y ya puestos en gastos un postrecito y café.  

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Luego en septiembre, para su cumple yo lo invité en Zurich a comer a un lugar que tenía terraza y por lo tanto podían servir al publico.  Fue la primera salida de mi burbuja en mas de un año.  Además hice el viaje en tren pues es mas práctico pero no menos estresante por aquello de la bolsa de la estoma que algunas veces toma decisiones propias sin consultarme y decide hacer de las suyas pero en fin, la estoma es otra historia para otro momento.  El viaje estuvo bien y luego de comer fuimos a nuestra chocolatería favorita para reponer las existencias de merenguitos, trufas negras, chocolates con almendras, cerezas envinadas, naranjas cubiertas con chocolate amargo y tantas otras maravillas que han inventado con la maravilla de fruto que Mexiquito le dio al mundo y ahora el mundo me lo regresa con creces!!!

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Desde mi casa tengo una vista fantástica del Castillo de Nyon y del lago Leman y detrás en días claros hasta el Monte Blanco se deja ver.  Así comencé a darme cuenta que no tengo que salir para ver cosas bonitas y que las flores que tengo en mis balcones y los paisajes desde los balcones me bastan en gran medida para tener a mi alrededor un mundo precioso.  

Entre las salidas que tenía que programar cuidadosamente estaban las idas a Francia para algunas compritas y para ir a la peluquería pues en Francia las reglas son diferentes y en muchos casos el país estaba en cuarentena y las fronteras cerradas a cal y canto.  Había que aprovechar cuando las abrían para hacer cita con la peluquera y tratar de mejorar el aspecto de mi cabellera pues había momentos en que hasta trencitas hubiera podido hacer pero cortitas y ridículas. 

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Otros sujetos para mis fotos, siempre dispuestos a dormir y rara vez a posar fueron Gordis y Peque, ya conocidos de muchos de ustedes,  Ellos no han tenido problemas de virus ni de vacuna ni de encerrona – siempre están encerrados en la casa y solo salen a los balcones.  Ni siquiera tienen problemas de pulgas pues no hay en mi casa y siempre están dispuestos a dejarse fotografiar.  Con ellos me di gusto tratando de tomarlos dormidos, despiertos, medio, olisqueando flores o abiertamente aburridos.  En algunos casos bajo la protección de Chucho que es un perrito plástico que me regalaron hace años, está en el balcón, no come ni tampoco descome, no ladra y siempre está parado atisbando el panorama del jardín.

En invierno las salidas se redujeron más aun pues aunque nunca llegó a nevar montañas, yo prefiero no salir ni manejar en la nieve salvo casos de vida o muerte y no los hubo.  Pero la nieve por supuesto cambió el paisaje desde mis observatorios y también me brindó oportunidades de plasmar algunas bonitas imágenes de mi jardín interior y de las montañas y demás.  Además también me trajo de regalo otra visita, corta pero muy bienvenida de Urs pues la celebración de Navidad tradicionalmente en su casa se suspendió y así él vino y la pasamos juntos muy a gusto, yo cociné y platicar, platicar, etc. etc.

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En los primeros meses del año nunca hay gran actividad y siempre son los que tienen menos horas de luz lo cual me llevó a leer, leer y leer tanto en papel como en la tableta.  Afortunadamente me encanta leer así que hacerlo todo el día o casi todos los días o casi no es mas que un placer prolongado.  Para Pascuas además de recordar que dos años antes habíamos estado en Positano gozando de la compañía de la familia Cinco – aunque son como ocho o nueve y de la deliciosa comida de Ángela la matriarca, pues tuve la visita de Urs nuevamente y con gran placer continuamos a comer rico – yo guisé por supuesto ya que los restaurantes siguen cerrados platicar y listo.  Visita corta pero sustanciosa.  

Poco a poco fue llegando la primavera con unos días calientitos y soleados que se antojaba salir al balcón y gozar del clima, la vista y las flores que despertaban, lo que hice con gran gusto.  Me organicé un “centro de meditación/siesta” en el balcón que quedo muy rico. También nuevas plantitas ornamentales y aromáticas que aumentaron las ganas de guisar así seguí haciendo lo que todos.  Estar en casa mientras pase el temporal covidiano.

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Desde principios del año había comenzado la fiebre de las vacunas, pero al menos en mi cantón la prioridad la tenían las personas mayores – mayores que yo y eso ya es decir, pero como yo sufro de algunos problemillas de salud que consideran me dan prioridad para la vacuna, pues mi matasanos me dio una cartita de los indica y entonces luego de múltiples intentos conseguí fecha en febrero para vacunarme.  Desgraciadamente mis riñones decidieron otra cosa y tuve un pequeño problema que me llevó unos días al hospital y por supuesto uno de esos era el día de mi tan peleada vacuna.  Tuve que cancelar y cuando salí del hospital con los riñones como nuevos, volví a pedir cita que llegó en marzo.  La organización del centro de vacunación me sorprendió agradablemente pues aunque había mucha gente, las esperas eran mínimas, la vacuna no dolió y yo no me sentía para nada mal.  Muchas personas dicen sentirse mal, yo felizmente no y ya a medio camino, la segunda me toco en abril y a finales de abril ya estaba totalmente vacunada, dispuesta como el quijote a luchar contra los molinos de viento disfrazados de virus virulentos.  Por ahora les voy ganando, me siento bien y creo que no tuve ninguna reacción a las vacunas o si la tuve ni me enteré.  

Otro buen efecto de la primavera es que me volvieron a llamar a trabajar como intérprete a la OMPI, donde hacia 3 años que no metía el pie. Informo a mis amables lectores que no tuve problemas y que como andar en bicicleta, no se olvida, aunque a veces se está medio oxidado pero en fin, con un poco de rodaje el oxido se cae y listo.   Hasta ahora me han llamado 5 ó 6 veces, lo que me encanta aunque he tenido que aprender a interpretar en la nueva modalidad.

Pandemia obliga, el sistema de la interpretación ha tenido que cambiar para adaptarse a las normas de seguridad, de separación, de desinfección y de viajes mínimos para los delegados.  Hasta donde yo se hoy en día puede hacerse interpretación en presencial – a la antigüita con el publico y los interpretes en la misma sala; en hibrido donde algunos delegados y los interpretes están en la sala pero otros delegados están en remoto, es decir en sus respectivos lugares de residencia o trabajo; en hibrido sin delegados, es decir los interpretes están en la sala de conferencias, viendo al aire pues todos los delegados y coordinadores de la reunión y demás están cada uno en su casa u oficina, se ven y escuchan por pantalla interpuesta y por supuesto el feeling no existe; el último es el remoto total en el que le interprete está en su casa, los delegados cada uno en la cuya y el sistema controla todo.  Cada perico en su estaca y nadie ve a los interpretes aunque estos sí pueden ver a los delegados.  El peor en mi opinión.  En mis aventuras ompiescas he hecho todos menos el último, desde mi casa y la verdad no me urge tener esa experiencia, aunque es práctico eso de interpretar en pijama pero no se me antoja. 

En junio finalmente se permitió la reapertura de los restoranes, con muchas restricciones en cuanto al numero de comensales por mesa, distancia entre mesas, separación entre mesas, etc. bastante latoso sobre todo para los restauranteros pues por supuesto al tener que separar las mesas, pierden clientes y con los clientes eso se ven obligados a reservar pues el aforo del restaurante se cubre muy pronto.  Pero había que aprovechar la reapertura y Ursito se dejó venir tres días que aprovechamos para ir a dos de nuestros restaurantes favoritos, uno sirve casi exclusivamente pescaditos del lago de Ginebra ricos y el otro la carnita con mantequilla café de París, y como nos quedaba un día libre, nos fuimos al extranjero!  Fuimos a Yvoire en barco, comimos allá y paseamos por el pueblito medieval muy bien y turísticamente conservado.  El día estuvo excelente y el paseo fantástico y la compañía ni se diga. 

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Ya estamos en agosto, muchas restricciones pasaron a la historia pero siguen como el coco que decía mi mama, si te portas mal viene el coco y te come.  Tratemos de no portarnos mal.  Ahora el tema de moda es me vacuno o no me vacuno.  Sin afectar la libertad individual yo creo que no hace mal hacerlo pero si quieren conocer mi opinión en mas detalle tendrán que leer mi blog “A jab o a pain in the ….” En este mismo sitio.

En resumen en estos últimos 18 meses he leído, comido, guisado, dormido, interpretado, paseado (muy poco) y fotografiado (bastante).  Sigo viva y ya eso es ganancia.  Espero que los lectores también estén bien y así sigan por mucho tiempo más.  

Salud!!!!!

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It has been about one and a half years since the covid 19 pandemic became the talk of the town at large and the concern of many if not all governments and people in authority or health conscious.

I am neither but also became worried when on the news and everywhere the only information given was the number of cases hospitalized, the number of people dead or dying and the fact that no solution had been found, not even a clear view of the little thing causing such a havoc.  It is almost incredible that a little virus can make us ill, can even kill us and can also leave in our bodies consequences that are unforeseeable and difficult to deal with.

Many people all over the world have suffered of this, many have died and many have been lucky enough not to fall for it.  All governments, people, associations, groups and the like were crying for a cure but it took a while to come.  A cure for a problem that is not clearly known is really hard to find.  Medical teams of all sorts were trying to see how to tame the shrewd covid 19 but it has been hard to evaluate and learn how it works and even harder how to make it less lethal. 

After only few months of what I guess was trial and error by the medical teams, they finally came out with a vaccine but although the whole world was asking for it, loudly and without any restrain, when it finally was there then voices were raised also very loudly to tell us all that it could not work, it had come too soon, that probably was more harmful than beneficial.  How come for all other vaccines known to us up to now, it had taken years and years of essay and trials to get one that worked. 

On one side the world was asking, praying and demanding a vaccine and on the other the same world was refusing to believe the vaccine could work.  To be or not to be a believer in the wonders of science/magic/chemistry.  At the beginning of the vaccine dilemma many were the voices in authority that claimed it was just as well to drinking a good shot of bleach or scrubbing your lungs with strong soap and hot water.  The so called remedies were poured out to the unsuspecting public through many channels, some more believable than others but most of them found followers that of course when following the new miracle cure realized that the miracle was not to be dead on the spot.  

Others, the good guys so to speak, were offering somehow tamer solutions like wash your hands every 60 seconds, keep your distance, do wear a face mask – medically certified if possible, and do not mix with others, keep isolated, do all your shopping on line, and pay by credit cards so you do not have to touch any other person, except of course the poor mailman, or the delivery persons that were to take your purchases to your home and if they were lucky were wearing mask themselves, kept away from you and did not touch you or your stuff – other that the money you may tip them with, since we all know money has no smell and probably does not transmit any covid 19 viruses! 

After reading a lot of the offered solutions, it was really difficult to choose which were good, plausible, realistic or feasible and which were hoaxes of monumental proportions.  

All of a sudden the vaccination seems to be only one of the alternatives, although many governments were totally for it, but on a voluntary basis.  Nothing compulsory like the vaccines when a baby is born, when there are zero alternatives as a baby gets the vaccines and that is that and just a comment for those anti vaccine because they “do not want foreign bodies in their own”, think about the fact the maybe if you had not been vaccinated as a newly born, you might not be there to be a pain in the …..  

To my knowledge, limited as it is, all countries are offering the vaccine on a voluntary basis and free of charge, gratis.  In itself the fact that it is gratis is a miracle.  When have you seen a government offering something gratis to the entire and total conglomerate of its population? 

All this is fine but at the beginning, they were setting rules for the vaccination that were of course risk-dependent and as the riskier group of population were the not too young, not to say the oldies, all others were left pending and maybe even wanting to get ahead in the queue.  I heard of some cases where younger people paid to get ahead of the line, or cheated in any other way but for the most part everyone waited its turn.  And then …..  all those that wanted to, got vaccinated and those that did not want to kept complaining with different reasons, from it is my body, I do what I want with it, I do not want foreign bodies in it – as if eating or having sex kept the foreign bodies outside or you cannot force me it is against my human rights – in this case their human rights should have a limit where they crash with mine, for instance.  Also I heard I am not sure it works, let us see if it really stops the virus and then maybe….   The reasons/excuses are multiple and one is sillier than the next or the one before but that is humanity.

Regarding the fact that the vaccine is gratis for us, the people of the world, does not make it free of cost.  It has a cost that can be known, guessed or disregarded, as long as we don’t have to pay it.  But pay someone has to and in this case it is the governments that pay the various producers of the vaccine all for the benefit of our good health.  But what has happened is that the rich can and have ordered vaccines by the millions, to be able to vaccinate all their populations and more, having some extra for the “just in case” and then the poor countries that need it as much if not more than the former ones, well, they do not have the funds to pay for the millions.  It just happens that their population is also more numerous and with health problems that cannot always be taken care of but no money no vaccine, and this at a governmental level.  

Then someone at the WHO or thereabouts had the brilliant idea of creating some kind of general fund for vaccines for the less well endowed countries to which all would contribute either buying extra vaccines for the fund or offering their surpluses so that those that do not have, can have.  The idea is great but all of a sudden many of those with surpluses found out that they did not have enough just in case they needed to vaccinate the whole population, which is a fact that will never happen or if the dogs and cats needed vaccines.   At the time of the creation of the fund the prevailing idea was that children and adolescents did not need to get vaccinated as the rate of transmission of the disease at that age was very low.  But when it came to give away the vaccines to other groups of people, coincidentally all of a sudden brilliant minds considered that it might not be such a bad idea to vaccinate also our kids, our meaning the kids of the countries that already had enough vaccines for the adult population.  The fund is working but at a much slower rate than it should and many countries are lacking the resources not only for vaccines but oxygen, protection for the caregivers and even food. 

Today or these days many countries are having a problem that I believe was not even phantom a year ago.  Many people are refusing to get vaccinated arguing so many reasons, valid and less that it would be very long to enumerate them.  And it is not only the young but also many caregivers that have lived through the crisis a year ago, that have seen their friends, colleagues and families die and still refuse to take the minimum precaution to protect not only themselves but those that are around them.  In my opinion it is an extreme selfishness that makes them think only of themselves and not those around them.  

In some countries the government has decided to make vaccination compulsory for certain activities such as going to dance in a discotheque, be a nurse in a hospital or home or go for a drink in a pub.  Of course the wave of protests has been proportional I would say to the stupidity of those refusing the vaccine, but maybe stupidity is not the right word, you can choose your own.  I just read that someone might suggest to pay the recalcitrant antivaccine so they get the vaccine, but that would be totally discriminatory against all of us that have been vaccinated, believing at 100% or at a much lesser rate on the efficacy of the jabs. 

The story of course has not ended and probably will not end soon, so this blog may be continued as my mood dictates and your comments are most welcome.  I have not intended to offend anyone but to offer a light view of my opinion on the matter today.  Maybe another day I would have written something different but such is the life of a text.  

Take care of you and your families and friends and pets and of the world as a whole as this is the only world we have, so far and until colonization of other planets becomes a reality.   

El día de hoy todavía estamos dentro de la tragedia provocada por el virus denominado corona-19 y que nos ha traído a mal traer desde hace prácticamente un año. 

Ha sido un año lleno de miedos, de ilusiones perdidas y otras ganadas, de reacomodo de la rutina de vida para muchos, de libertades limitadas por gusto o por fuerza y de un distanciamiento físico del mundo que nos rodea.  Distanciamiento de nuestros amigos y familia, a veces del lugar de trabajo, los colegas, los lugares frecuentados regularmente y algunas veces ello nos ha llevado a descubrir nuevos horizontes y a descubrirnos a nosotros mismos, a analizar cuidadosamente o no tanto nuestras vidas en general.

Para muchos los viajes dejaron de ser algo que se planeaba y se convirtieron en sueños más o menos realistas o recuerdos de un pasado que no tiene mucho porvenir.  El trabajo también cambió para muchos, dejó de ser algo que se daba por hecho, por seguro para convertirse en algo que es más bien aleatorio, algo que no cae con la frecuencia acostumbrada y que nos deja bailando en la cuerda floja con presupuestos que ya no sirven de gran cosa, con proyectos que no tienen mucho futuro inmediato y con preocupaciones básicas de cómo pagar la renta o la hipoteca, cómo cambiar de coche o cómo comer y dar de comer a nuestras familias. 

El teletrabajo o trabajo desde casa se ha vuelto la regla para muchos y ha forzado un reacomodo de los espacios familiares pues ahora los adultos necesitan espacios “de oficina” y los pequeños “espacios escuela” y algunas veces teniendo que compartirlos con “espacios familia” y zonas libres de diversión y entretenimiento.  No olvidando que muchos de estos nuevos espacios necesitan herramientas que no siempre están disponibles, ordenadores/computadoras que tengan capacidades de memoria y velocidad considerables, pues no es lo mismo ver la tele o una película por Internet que tener que realizar reuniones virtuales en las que la comunicación es primordial y en las que los microsegundos en un sistema denominado lento pueden dar al traste con nuestro trabajo o estudio.

En muchos países las reuniones de mas de 10 personas están prohibidas, lo cual por supuesto no impide a ciertos inconscientes de asistir e incluso organizar reuniones con cientos si no miles de participantes y ya puestos en correr riesgos, ni siquiera exigen la máscara/cubre-bocas de protección mínima.  

Los hospitales o centros de salud en su mayoría está saturados o peor, los servicios que pueden brindar no son enormes a pesar de la indudable buena voluntad del personal de salud.  Las familias que desafortunadamente tienen uno o varios de sus miembros enfermos tienen que hacer todo lo posible por tratarlo en casa, no siempre con los mejores medios, grandes riesgos y algunas veces aún cuando se prodiguen los cuidados máximos, los enfermos fallecen.  Ahí comienza otro calvario pues en muchos países están prohibidos los entierros, o limitados a 5 ó 10 personas, es muy difícil hacer el duelo de los que se fueron entre lo administrativo de un deceso más las restricciones debido al virus.

Esto me lleva al origen de este texto.  El hermano de una de mis mejores amigas falleció del virus, en su casa y rodeado de su familia pero al mismo tiempo y por razones sanitarias, aislado de sus seres queridos.  No se si sea la regla o solo la costumbre en la familia que considero la mía, pero la consecuencia lógica fue la cremación pues es la única manera de evitar que el virus siga rondando.  La casa de la familia es grande y con un enorme jardín que les permitió reunirse guardando la sana distancia, para poder despedirse del ser querido en persona.  El difunto era un hombre que descrito por su cuñado en una epístola que leyó su esposa, supo granjearse a toda la familia política cuando era joven, era decente, parlanchín, honrado, un hombre cabal y con gran sentido del humor. Además cantaba y tocaba la guitarra muy bien – herencia paterna sin duda alguna, siempre dispuesto a dar una mano al necesitado, un hombre DECENTE.   

Su familia organizó varias misas para despedirse de él, pero ante la imposibilidad de asistir personalmente, restricción de número en las iglesias y para mi de distancia pues ellos están en México, decidieron hacerla por zoom interpuesto, el zoom, para quienes no lo sepan es una de esas plataformas que han surgido estos últimos años, que permiten las videoconferencias, reuniones a distancia con múltiples participantes. 

Aquí hago un paréntesis para comentarles que el Concierto de Año Nuevo de la Filarmónica de Viena, regularmente transmitido por Eurovisión y con la sala llena a tope, este año se realizó con la sala vacía, sólo la orquesta y hubo siete mil participantes activos, en sus casas pero que cuando era el momento podían aplaudir y en la transmisión de la tele se escuchaban los aplausos que venían de todo el mundo.  Fin del paréntesis.  

Estos sistemas permiten estar sin estar, participar sin riesgos y según arreglos con los organizadores, incluso dirigirse a los participantes.  Así asistí a mi primera misa virtual. El sacerdote estaba en el jardín de la casa, la misa lo mas completa posible con todas sus partes, sermones y responsivas como si estuviéramos en una iglesia y al final la viuda se dirigió a todos los presentes – reales pero sobre todo virtuales para leer una linda carta dirigida a su esposo.  Uno de sus hijos habló también de sus nobles sentimientos hacia su padre, lo mucho que lo extrañaba y no faltó participante virtual y real que no soltara una lagrima por el amigo partido.

Así el milagro virtual de la tecnología moderna nos permitió vivir la triste realidad del adiós al amigo, esposo, padre, abuelo, hermano, cuñado, suegro y toda otra relación de cariño con Yin y como dijo su esposa al final,

BUEN VIAJE AMIGO!! 

12 DE ENERO DE 2021

 

Today is Saturday, sunny and mild for the first days of March and last night during my midnight insomnia I was thinking that as of two days ago the Federal Government, which I have been told takes over all health decisions when it is a matter of national security and safety, decided that in order to try to contain the spread of the now infamous corona virus also known as Covid-19, some measures would be taken that affect me directly.  First and foremost, they are meant for all people over 65, so there I can’t escape, then to add up to the risky business, other criteria are diabetes, hypertension, cancer, cardiovascular problems and chronic respiratory problems.  Two out of these and you are liable of falling ill. If you are young and do not have any of them you are liable also, but the Federal Government is not aiming at you directly, although should you sneeze beware as ostracism will probably be immediate.

The recommendation for the group in danger, so they say, is to stay home, avoid as much as possible social contacts and stay at more then two meters of the closest human being – animals do not seem to transmit or catch the virus, so you can cuddle your pet but not the neighbour’s as it might have been touched by an infected person.  If you absolutely have to do some shopping, do so in the lull hours of the shopping day or have it delivered – should the shops do it despite the risk of contamination for the delivery person, of course do NOT shake hands with any one – greetings with the head, a kick or but contacts is ok, the latter as long as it cannot be construed as sexual harassment, otherwise you can end up in jail in a more than crowded place, without masks and no hydro alcohol sanitizer!  You can also greet other humans with an elbow contact, but make sure it is not the elbow they sneeze into when coughing, as the material would have kept the droplets of the sneeze and since nobody really knows a thing about the virus, it is not known the duration of its “shelf-life” so if your counterpart sneezed a while ago and greets you with elbow shake, your worn cloths could get infected and again, you are doomed!

 

Some days ago I saw a video where four individuals were playing cards or maghong or the like, all connected via their phones, from their homes and thus avoiding physical contact.  Not bad as an idea but I guess a little less fun than if you are all together sharing a drink – each with a glass, not actually sharing from the same glass, please.

Meetings of more than 1000 people are officially forbidden in this country, but some cantons have reduced the number of attendees in order to safeguard the participants and many many meetings, shows, theatres, concerts and social activities, as well as sporting events have been cancelled.  In some places schools are closed for a week or two or until further notice, so basically the world is coming to a stand still and if you still have to go to work and here GO is the key word, pray you do not have kids that do not go to school, elderly people who cannot go to help you because then you would have to report sick or ask for holidays in order to keep an eye on your family.

                                             

All of these measures may be logical, even really necessary but on the other hand I believe they are provoking mass hysteria and panic, as proven by the attack on supermarket stocks of toilet paper and dry edibles.  I just saw a photo of a person that bought enough toilet paper to last her and her family for at least a year, we have all seen the photos of shelves empty of rice and pasta – even if pasta might have been made in Italy, one of the biggest centres of contamination in Europe and rice may come from China, the supposed point of origin of all these problems.

Most medical experts and politicians recommend that the best prevention for the transmission of the virus is simply to wash our hands frequently and well, not just the tip of our fingers but a thorough wash, like scrubbing before an operation or after touching some disgusting substance.  On this matter I have already seen two videos where young artists use music and “dance” to teach the population how to do it, mimicking the washing of fingers, palms, inter-digital spaces, nails and fingers again, rubbing vigorously and then drying with a non contaminated tissue that is discarded afterwards.

Nobody knows how this will end or when, but I believe none of us living now remembers the Spanish flue of 1918 or even less the black pest in other places of the planet, but for me the scary part is the unknown, the fact that no matter who speaks about it, they tend to agree on washing our hands and nothing else.  The origin is not clear, transmission modes and rates aren’t either, active life of the virus outside the human body a mystery and even the symptoms can be similar to those of the common cold that kills several thousand of people every year, and again the people at risk are the elderly – relatively natural if one considers that we have weaker defences and maybe health problems that are not conductive to a strong and active defence of the virulent attacks of this little animals that surround us.

At any rate my friends and readers, I might be wrong in all my ranting but keep in good health, stop kissing all passers-by and first and foremost, wash your hands well and often.

(March 2020)

 

 

 

 

Many moons ago I started collecting postal stamps, stamps for brevity, and although I never bought a stamp for the collection, I did ask for them from friends and travellers and of course during my trips, many during more than 50 years, I sent myself all the stamps I could, some beautiful, others not so, but always interesting and for me a pleasant way to learn history and geography as well as sometimes cultural traits of different countries.

Along all these years I learned that with few exceptions, the poorer the country the most beautiful stamps they issued, as if the stamps were the window to the country, and somehow they were.  Of course almost all countries have philatelic offices and issue special stamps to commemorate specials dates or events but unless you live there, it is very hard to follow all the novelties.

 

 

Getting the stamps, by mail or through friends is only the beginning of the adventure, as the stamps have to be washed, dried flat, classified and then collected in albums where you can enjoy them and maybe even share them if you find someone interested in this matter.

I have several thousands stamps, from rather old – some older than I, to very recent but nowadays it is ever more difficult to collect them since today a big chunk of communications all over the world are done via electronic means and sending letters or postcards is loosing popularity, and on top of that some of the modern stamps are glued with some kind of substance that cannot be eliminated with the washing and tend to destroy it, although some countries still issue the normal paper with the regular glue.

I moved from my house in relative countryside to my present lodgings almost four years ago and during all that time my stamps collection, as well as many of my books and reading material had been just pushed and shoved from one bookshelf to a box and back to the bookshelf, with the idea that I would put some order soon.  Of course the soon never really materialized but I kept buying nice Swiss stamps and receiving them from other countries and at one point I wanted to put them all together and in certain order – big mistake!

As we all know, when you open a box, shelf or container of any kind looking for something specific most of the time you find everything but.  I started opening the bookshelves looking for my loose stamps and discovered I have sufficient books to open a bookshop, stickers, gadgets and trinkets of all kinds and on all subjects and of course a lot of stamps, but by the time I found the stamps all my shelves were in such a state of chaos that I had to put aside the stamps and reorder the books, some are good for the flea market, town library or the like, with the problem that at least close by most of the second hand shops and flea markets have such a number of books that unless you have the first version of Goethe’s Bible or Moses Tablets, they will not take them and then you have to find suitable recipients that would put them in an open free-for-all book shelves and take as you wish.  Of course an alternative is taking them to the central rubbish dump, to be burned but… and a BIG but, I was always told that throwing away food and books was a mortal sin and although I am not terribly religious and hell is not what worries me the most, the idea of burning books horrifies me so I will try to find a suitable place for them.

Back to the stamps, I found one of the several hiding places for my washed but not yet well organized cache of stamps, I know there are others but do not know where so it is either redo the undoing of the shelves in order to find an envelope with stamps or hope and pray that when I am gone someone finds them and enjoys them.  I tend to go for the second alternative and now devote some of my time to wash, arrange and display my stamps.

As I am writing this we have the first and wishful thinking last snow of the season.  So far where I live it has been very decent weather, even too good to believe and even the snow did not stay longer than 5 minutes on the ground that is not sufficiently cold to hold it.  I personally write this  story about the snow not as a complaint for me the snow is beautiful in postcards and pictures or so high in the mountains that the chance of my being there is very very slim.  I have been there, actually my first encounter with snow was when I was 6 or 7 years old, in Mexico, at the volcano Popocatepetl, but as enjoyable as that may have been, I never got the knack of it.

For the moment I stop here, I am going to wash some stamps and continue putting order in the bookshelves, if at all possible.

(February 2020)

 

 

 

 

 

 

El relato a continuación es una transcripción fiel de un texto que escribí hace la friolera de 35 años.  Tengo que aclarar que a mi siempre me ha gustado celebrar los cumpleaños.  También tengo que aclarar que en edad, yo soy mayor que la República Popular China (PRC). Yo nací en agosto y la RPC oficialmente nació en octubre del mismo año, o sea yo soy mayor por mes y medio.

FIESTA DE CUMPLEAÑOS – RPC 1984

Para casi todos los seres humanos el cumpleaños es una ocasión especial, a veces feliz porque nos permite ver lo realizado en el pasado o porque implica llegar a un punto de partida hacia el futuro  Otras veces no es tan feliz o es francamente triste pues hay quienes con cada cumpleaños sienten más el peso y el paso de los años y creen que lo que han realizado no es suficiente o ha sido francamente demasiado.  Todo es según el color del cristal con que se mire, pero lo cierto es que los días del cumpleaños son días especiales.

Ahora quisiera platicarles de un cumpleaños que fue especial, feliz y cuya llegada fue esperada y anticipada por cuando menos mil millones de personas. Como ya habrán imaginado, me refiero al cumpleaños de la Republica Popular China que este año de 1984 cumplió 35 años de vida.  A veces se dice cuando alguien ofrece una fiesta muy a lo grande que echa la casa por la ventana, entonces debemos decir que los chinos echaron no solo la casa sino todo el país por la ventana.  Creo que todos o casi todos los lectores de mi historia (con la edad adecuada) habrán visto, leído u oído hablar de la fiesta pero como casi siempre nada reemplaza el estar presente y sentir en carne y hueso la emoción desbordante de los jóvenes  y viejos.  Debemos aquí recordar que desde hacia 15 años no se celebraba el cumpleaños de la RPC en forma tan ostentosa y abierta. Primero porque se estaban reponiendo de la lucha de liberación y después porque los criterios establecidos durante la revolución cultural iban en contra de este tipo de demostraciones que se consideraba tal vez como políticamente inconveniente.  Así pues muchos, muchos chinos (cuando menos todos los que entonces tenían 20 años o menos de edad) nunca habían visto  y mucho menos participado en un desfile.  Esta fue la primera ocasión para muchos de participar directamente en semejante fiesta y ¡vaya primera ocasión!  En esta fiesta tuvieron la oportunidad de dar rienda suelta al gozo y felicidad de tal celebración, el espíritu de alegría y festejo se sentía en el aire y todo eran preparativos para el gran día (muchos de los preparativos y prácticas comenzaron desde junio pasado).  A pesar del trabajo extra que todo esto implicaba, todos tenían una sonrisa a flor de labios, el buen humor de ver a su querido país llegar a esta edad que algunos consideran como de “adulto joven” cuando todavía se tienen ganas de hacer muchas cosas pero al mismo tiempo ya se tienen ciertos años de experiencia que permiten desarrollar a plenitud el potencial humano  Esto resulta más extraordinario cuando consideramos que el maestro organizador y promotor de esta gran fiesta fue un hombre de 80 años entrando en 30, tal es su energía.

Invitación al desfile cívico-militar

Pero volvamos a la fiesta.  La ciudad de Beijing se fue cubriendo paulatinamente de flores de colores, especialmente rojas que según la tradición china es el color de la felicidad, pero también había enormes crisantemos blancos y amarillos.  En las esquinas las flores estaban dispuestas a manera de caracteres chinos de longevidad a la República, de felicidad y de paz. Toda la ciudad, incluso los más alejados callejones tenían cara de fiesta, se arreglaba y maquillaba para el gran día.  Los jóvenes de toda la ciudad, igual obreros que estudiantes, empleados de fabricas u oficinas, todos cedían parte de su tiempo libre para embellecer sus hogares y sitios de trabajo y para practicar los ejercicios gimnástico-miliares que desplegaría en pleno el día de la fiesta.

PLAZA TIEN AN  MENG

Incluso yo como extranjera me sentía felizmente afectada por los preparativos, por esta emoción de algo grande, espléndido.  No era fácil ni tampoco hacía falta, sustraerse al entusiasmo, así que con esa misma expectativa llegó el día en que con gran gusto asistí al banquete que con motivo del cumpleaños me ofreciera el gobierno de la República – bueno a mi y a otros 1092 extranjeros que residimos en Beijing.  La cena fue en el Gran Salón del Pueblo, edificio masivo e impresionante, donde dicen que hay salones para servir hasta a 5000 invitados sentados.  Salones grandes, enormes como todo en China.

Basta de preámbulos y vayamos al día de la fiesta.  Fecha: 1 de octubre, lugar: todo China pero para los suertudos como yo el lugar era en las tribunas de la plaza Tien An Meng. El corazón y cerebro de China. Como en todos los casos donde hay realmente movilización masiva, hay que empezar  temprano y moverse prontito, así que a las 8.30 de la mañana salimos hacia la plaza en autobuses, formando una caravana casi tan larga como el mismo desfile. Nos tardamos una hora en llegar a la plaza y no era tanto por la distancia como por la enorme afluencia de invitados.  Entonces a esperar se ha dicho, pues el desfile no comenzaba sino hasta pasadas las diez, pero no se podía llegar tarde. Para hacer la espera menos tediosa el gobierno había establecido puestos de refrescos y del inefable e infalible té chino para los que quisieran.  Por fin empezó la fiesta oficial con un discurso pronunciado por Deng Xiao Ping, cuyo título oficial es “Miembro del Comité Permanente del Buró Político del Comité Central del Partido Comunista Chino, Presidente de la Comisión Militar Central de la República Popular China y Presidente del Comité de Consejeros del Comité Central del Partido Comunista Chino”.  Lo puse completo para que los que creen que sus títulos oficiales son largos se den un ligero quemón.  Este bate casi cualquier record.  Por supuesto que Don Deng habló en chino y si no hubiera sido por la oportuna entrega de la traducción del discurso al inglés me hubiera quedado como sus compatriotas, solo miLando.  No les contaré el contenido del discurso pues es de imaginarse que la prensa lo haya reproducido , al menos en parte y como todo discurso político tiene sus mases y sus menos

 

Parte del desfile militar

Luego vino el desfile y aquí quiero hacer una aclaración.  Los miembros del Ejercito Popular de Liberación, como se conocen aquí a las fuerzas armadas chinas, andan por todo Beijing y siempre se ven mas bien algo desgarbados y no parecen muy disciplinados.  Yo hasta llegué a preguntarme como habían logrado tantos éxitos militares en la guerra, pero oh sorpresa, en el desfile marcharon todos parejitos, tan militares que realmente ahí sí se nota la disciplina. Junto con tanques, orugas, jeeps y demás vehículos de los militares hubo cohetes, proyectiles y demás “tiliches” de protección armada o si fuera necesario, supongo  que de ataque. Sin embargo como mi ignorancia en ese campo es supina, pues solo puede distinguir uno que otro  Incluso las cabezas nucleares que desfilaron, si alguien no me la señala, ni las noto.  Lo mejor vino después, cuando comenzó la parte atlética-deportiva-popular del desfile.  Hubo aproximadamente 60 carros alegóricos que representaban los diferentes avances y progresos logrados por los chinos desde 1949 y como su diseño era lo que yo clasificaría de “naive” pues no hacía falta entender el idioma ni leer los letreros.

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Carro alegórico. parte del desfile cívico-militar

Si un carro muestra una presa con todo y agua corriente, torres de alta tensión y demás es fácil suponer que habla de la energía hidroeléctrica y así otros mostraban los avances en agricultura, comercio, producción de artículos domésticos, industria ligera, nivel de vida y demás cosas de las que creo justamente presumieron ese día los chinos y no tanto ante el mundo que los miraba, sino ante ellos mismos.  Desfilaron también los atletas olímpicos que en los pasados juegos de Los Ángeles’84 hicieron tan buen papel y masas de obreros, todos con cara de felicidad, como si se hubieran sacado un millón de dólares en la lotería (uno cada uno y al tipo de cambio son muchos millones de yuanes – y más de pesos).  Todos traían flores de papel multicolores que daban al conjunto una vida y alegría inusitadas. Después vinieron niños ataviados con los trajes típicos de todas las minorías nacionales de China (que suman más de 55) y para hacerles el cuento menos largo, hasta las 12.30 del día en que para dar por concluido el desfile soltaron unos enormes globos rojos como faroles chinos, que se elevaron hacia las nubes como mensajeros de los acontecimientos que ellos, igual que yo, habían presenciado en la Plaza.  Un espectáculo por demás impresionante. Por fin había terminado y solo llevábamos la mitad de las actividades, así que regresamos a la casa a comer y prepararnos pues si lo de la mañana había sido gran fiestón, lo de la noche se podría clasificar de verbena popular.

Invitación a la verbena popular

 

La verbena comenzó desde temprano en la tarde pero yo llegué a eso de las 7 PM. El ambiente en Tien An Meng era de posada, fiesta, jolgorio, diversión, regocijo y demás.  La plaza estaba atestada de jóvenes (creo que los mas viejos tendrían 22 años) dando rienda suelta a su alegría Todos estaban bailando al son que les tocaban, literalmente pues por los altavoces dispuestos por toda la plaza se oían piezas de música china y además algunos grupos también tenían su propia música y acompañamiento. Para muchos de ellos era la primera vez en su vida que bailaban ante más de cinco personas y aquí lo estaban haciendo ante millones – unos mejor que otros pero parecía no importarles un comino.  Entonces tuve la oportunidad de estar con ellos, caminar entre los diversos grupos, verlos de cerca a los ojos que expresaban una sana y juvenil alegría, platicar con algunos – los que hablaban inglés porque yo al chino todavía no le hago y en general gozar de su gozo.  Era contagioso.  A las 8 de la noche comenzó la primera de las tres series de fuegos artificiales y si antes se hubiera podido dudar, con estos fuegos quedó absolutamente comprobado – al menos para mi – que los chinos inventaron y perfeccionaron este arte  de la pirotecnia del que esa noche dieron pruebas contundentes.

Jóvenes gozando la fiesta, algunos en sus atuendos tradicionales

El cielo todo se cubría de color, mas luminoso que si el sol hubiera salido por fracciones de segundo, como si el sol pestañeara y dejara salir toda su luz, luz por todas partes, de colores, en forma de estrellas, como lluvia de luz, luz formando figuras en el cielo, dragones y perros chinos, enormes, gigantescos crisantemos y como remate, como los muchachos están divertidos de ver nuestras reacciones ante ese despliegue de luz y color, tanto como nosotros las de ellos, esto aumentaba la diversión.  Había grupos de jóvenes representando pasajes de la famosa opera de Pekín, otros bailando danzas tradicionales, antiguas y no tanto.  Era el Zócalo de la ciudad de México en 15 de septiembre pero mucho mas grande, con muchos miles de personas pues se dice que Tien An Meng es la plaza mas grande del mundo y en caso de apuros cabe hasta medio millón de personas.  Esa noche tal vez no éramos medio millón pero nos divertimos como si lo fuéramos.  Así la fiesta, la verbena como cualquier fiesta animada continuó hasta entrado el día siguiente, siempre con ese espíritu de alegría contagiosa.  Los jóvenes son jóvenes en cualquier parte del mundo y siempre pueden divertirse sanamente.  Así terminó la fiesta de cumpleaños as grande, rumbosa, larga y esperada a que yo haya asistido.

 

Gozando el espectáculo

Espero que este no muy corto relato de mis experiencia les haya gustado y tal vez hasta divertido.  Ahora solo queda trabajar y esperar que llegue el Festival de Primavera o Año Nuevo Chino que es la “gran celebración anual”, por cierto el año próximo es el año del Toro.

Gran final

 

Duque was our first and only dog; he was a cross between Boxer and something else we never knew.  At the time the tradition said boxers, as well as some other breeds had to have their tail and ears cut. Duque had his tail cut, but somehow his ears were not touched and were longish and had a soft feeling like suede.

 

When Duque arrived to our house he was a newly born or as close to that as nature allowed him to be severed from his mom.  He was so small that my father could hold him in the palm of his hand.  It was a little mischievous little kid, grating everything and to my mother dismay, peeing also everywhere.  It took few days to potty train him.  At the time we lived in a rather big house that had a nice garden all around, so Duque was free to run around in and outside the house.  Every Sunday, as usual my father and sometimes the rest of the family went out to the countryside for a long day hike. My mom would prepare a delicious lunch, and there we went.  At first the hikes were too long for Duque, so after a while my father had to carry him inside his jacket, just his little head out or sometimes not even, as Duque enjoyed the warm place and took a siesta.  He very timely woke up when lunch was ready and loved to run along. Taking the dogs out in a leash was the rule in the city or inhabited areas, but where father went for his hikes most of the time was open wilderness and although Duque had his collar, the leash was not used so his freedom was total.  He quickly learned to run after butterflies, tried to run after small animals but mostly he ran from other animals, all were friendly but not too much!

 

 

 

Very quickly Duque and father became an item. They were inseparable 24/7 and when during the week father had to go out, Duque would wait for him close to the door and would be excited when father returned.  On Sundays he knew without any doubt that it was Sunday and that after father’s return from mass they would have breakfast and pack their lunch, water and off they went.  He learned to co-pilot from the back seat of the car and to my memory never was carsick.

 

Duque grew very fast and with so much exercise also grew very strong, when it was necessary to take him to the vet or other urban outing; it was mostly he taking you for a walk. Since he did not go out in the city very often, when that happened he would pull you all over to smell and leave his mark everywhere.  I believe he also wanted to play with all the kids of the neighbourhood but being so big and impressive, it was practically impossible to let him free.

 

In the living room he chose a corner of the main sofa as HIS place and nobody dared to ask him to move, except sometimes visitors did not know about his place or did not care and decided to sit exactly there.  Duque did not like that a bit and very softly and full of smiles, managed to move the invader from his place and sat there, as long and as firmly as he could and the visitors had to move.  Few times the visitors complained that we allowed many privileges to a “simple dog” and then the whole family hurried to inform them that Duque was not a simple dog, he was part of the family and with all the privileges that this implied.  If they liked it, fine if not tough luck for the guests.

 

When Duque was already a teenager or dog-equivalent, somebody gave my sister a tiny cat named Pearl.  She was a nice little thing but with sharpened nails and her teeth were also ready to bite and play.  She and Duque never really became the best and inseparable of friends and Pearl died few months after her arrival, I do not remember the cause, but I can say Duque was not too sad for that.

 

 

 

The Sunday outings were for both my father and Duque time in paradise.  My father had been hiking since a very young age and Duque too, as my father would take him out since he was a very young puppy.  I believe we all went through the “it is Sunday, let us go for a long walk in the countryside”.  I was also taken out since I was few months old, until the age of 17, when I declared my independence and went out sometimes, but not all Sundays. Duque on the other hand seemed to live for the Sunday outings.

 

Duque was as mentioned before one with my father and my father loved to sing, had taught me to sing since I was a kid, on the way to school we would always go singing old Mexican songs and of course on Sundays we all sang them.  My father had a recorder to accompany his songs and soon discovered that Duque either enjoyed it very much and sang along or hated the notes and howled to complain.  The fact was that when we had a break during the hike and my father was in the mood, he would pull out the recorder and start playing it, Duque accompanied him and it really looked like both were singing. For both of them Sundays were the days to live for.

 

 

As time went by, my father grew old, don’t we all?  He started having some serious health problems.  First he had a heart attack that limited his movements and was not supposed to go out alone, just in case the attacks repeated.  A year later he had a thrombosis that left him paralyzed on the left side and had to wear glasses in order to read, one of his passions.  He did not like the idea of glasses and I only remember him wearing them for a picture, later on they were left in a drawer as souvenir.  He was no longer allowed to drive and then became very dependent for every outing, especially the Sunday outings for which a friend of the family was kind enough to pick them (father and Duque) for their Sunday day outside. Another year passed and unfortunately my father started developing gangrene on both legs, there was not much to do about it and as he could not move, of course the problem worsened and Duque knew father was ill, but did not understand that he was not allowed to get on the bed with my father.  We had a hospital bed because being higher that his regular one, it was easier for all the medical care that father required but that for Duque was a problem.  The dog did not get younger either, and jumping on the higher bed was hard, he would be crying to be let up and although any movement must have been very painful for father, he always asked us to help the dog so they could siesta together.

 

One day around lunch time finally my father passed away and it was of course very painful for all of us, but for Duque it was a pain he could not express except hauling and haul he did and it got even worse when he was locked up while the funerary arrangements were on. After Duque lost his friend, his father and his companion he became rather more subdued and continued to get older and to show it to the point that finally he had to be put to sleep. His loss was very painful for me and during a long time every time I saw a dog, regardless of the race, memories of Duque returned and the feeling of having lost them, him and father still hurts.

 

This happened to me almost 40 years ago. At the time China was still under the heavy influence of the Cultural Revolution started by Chairman Mao and although it had ended officially in 1976, the behaviour and the attitude persisted still many more years.

 

If you wanted to visit China it was possible, but you had to travel in a group of the same nationality, i.e. as a Mexican, I had to travel with a group of Mexicans, visa was of course compulsory and you could not travel individually, it had to be in group.  The Chinese tourist service assigned you one or more guides to show you around or more exactly to sheppard you around, like sheep taken for a tour of the country.  Only Mexicans of course composed my group and I have not kept in touch with any of them but upon arrival to Guangzhou or Canton, we were assigned a tour guide that spoke perfect Spanish so we did not have any problem in communicating, through him, with the few that dared to try to talk to us.  At the time foreigners were still looked with certain mistrust and curiosity, since the country had been closed to the outside world for so many years, since before 1949, year of the creation of the People’s Republic of China, many of them had never seen a foreigner, not very nicely considered a “big nose” and depicted during the time of the Cultural Revolution as untrustworthy and dishonest.  There were during that time some foreigners that were very well liked by the PRC government, but few and then they were considered subversive in their respective countries.  A bit like “you like them, you are my enemy” sort of thing.

 

In Canton I introduced myself to our guide as the teacher of some of his co-nationals that were studying in Mexico.  At the time, in China there were relatively few Chinese that spoke Spanish and of course they all knew each other, so when I mentioned the names of my students, he immediately became my private mentor and especially attentive guide.  I had the privilege of being given choice advise, sat in preferential places or informed of certain things the rest of the group did not need to know. It was really nice and allowed me to learn a lot about the country, its traditions and people.

 

My group was composed of around 20 people and we were moved around in minibuses especially kept for tourists, they were quite comfortable and had two doors, one at the front and one in the middle. When we stopped at any location, it was fun to see how people would gather around our bus just to look at us. We were the attraction, not to say the circus monkeys that could be regarded and commented upon with total impunity as none of us spoke any Chinese to understand the comments.  Our guide would never really translate the real comments but would sweeten them for our ears and after a few days it became a two-way circus.  When we arrived anywhere two of the Mexican curious would stand the doors of the buses, just stand there and see who gathered more viewers!  We also could comment freely secure that none could understand us, and if push comes to shove, even our guide would be hard placed to understand if we spoke in Mexican lingo, Spanish yes but the meanings were most probably beyond the knowledge of our guide.  So we had great fun playing at being a display in the window.

 

There were many things that made us different, for starters the race, they were Chinese, had slanted black eyes, black straight hair and their skin was very white. Most of the ones we saw were rather short and there were no fat people to be seen while the colour of our skin was much darker, our eyes for the most part almond shape and of different colours, blown, black or blue.  The hair also as you could see in our group some with black hair or dark brown, blond, some straight and some curly.  As for the dresses, the difference was even greater because in China they still had not abandoned the cultural revolution garb, so most of them had this olive green military looking coats, the dresses were boringly equal in style, men and women wore what is popularly known as a Mao jacket and their shoes mostly were made with rough material, all black very much like little girls shoes that allowed them to walk long distances and in any kind of terrain.

 

Cleanliness was no problem because although most of them did not have running water in their homes, they all were extremely clean, their clothes were perfectly ironed and they did not smell, except some of them smelled to garlic as they consume it in great abundance, they like the flavour and also for health reasons, but otherwise they smelled clean. Sometimes in the “west” you would like some people to be like that as the smells can be overpowering.

 

Honesty was incredible.  While in Shanghai a pair of my shoes developed a hole in the sole and so I had to throw them away.  I did so in the rubbish bin of my room and that was that, or so I thought.  In Beijing next stop of our tour, a couple of days later I found them in my room, with a note of my guide that they thought I had forgotten them, so here they were.  Imagine they returned the shoes, used and basically unusable.

 

Speaking of Beijing, of course the typical dinner was Peking duck so it was in our programme of activities.  We got to the restaurant where our table was set and my guide, as mentioned before gave me a preferential seat next to him, so he could explain in more detail the whole process and way to proceed.  I do not know if you my readers have ever eaten Peking duck but it is usually served with fine flower tortillas and in “instalments”, that is you are served a course of some part of the duck once that is finished by the hungry and curious guests, a next instalment comes of different part of the animal, and so on, and of course the guests that do not know the rules, eat a lot of the first few courses and the more they eat the less space/hunger they have so that at the end they basically only taste the last one or two courses but… and this is where having a mentor pays, in Chinese tradition, like the wine in the biblical wedding of Canaan, the best is reserved for the end so most of the guests have pigged out and cannot eat any more and the ones with inside knowledge can really enjoy to their hart content the last and best pieces of the duck, which is really good.

 

These are some of the memories of my first encounter with China, strange and difficult to understand but fascinating, where people for the most part know they are the centre of the universe or at least the Kingdom of the Centre and many act accordingly but still once you made a friend, they are there forever.  The first time was a great shock, the following times also a great pleasure and always I had the opportunity of learning a lot about the country and its people. Today in the big cities they are heavily Westernized, not always for the best in my opinion, but if you travel in the countryside it is still possible to see the people that have kept their traditions alive, still some mistrust of outsiders but always kind.

 

Most of my readers have seen rice paddies in terraces on mountain slopes, or at least have seen pictures of them and the astonishing geometry of the terraces.

When I lived in China I always wanted to visit the south, where the terraced rice paddies are more prevalent but work came first and during the vacations periods there were always other things to do or places to visit, so ….   17 years after I left China I had the chance to return for work to Beijing and I took the opportunity to extend my trip and do a bit of travelling into places that when I was there were of difficult access.

Among other places I went to Guilin, smallish modern and vibrant city, and the starting point for a visit to the famous rice paddies.  I organized with a local tour guide and one morning we drove to the bottom of a mountain in the middle of the slopes and from there we had to climb a fairly high mountain with terraces in every direction you turned.  It was just so beautiful, the geometry of the place, the accuracy of the different terraces and since it was the beginning of the planting season, not all the terraces were already planted, so I had the chance of seeing the peasants and their animals preparing the land, a very muddy terrain, so that later they could plant the rice sprouts, this latter work done mainly by women, backbreaking and hard. When we got to the base of the slope we were going to climb it looked high and imposing, but so be it, I was many years younger than today, 15 to be exact, and so we started climbing.  The path was not very easy, slippery and narrow, sometimes I had to pull myself using the plants on the sides and sometimes I needed the help of my guide, although fortunately not many times.  Of course conversation with the locals was excluded ad they all spoke the dialect from the region and I had no inkling of what was being said, but every time I slipped or cursed they had a ball, so I imagine my progress was being carefully monitored and supervised.  In due time we arrived to a village almost at the top of the mountain, where they received me with smiles and of course tea which was most welcome.  I was invited to the homes of some of the villagers and through my interpreter-guide they explained the work they do, what they trade with, baskets, carvings, and fruits and vegetables. I was also shown the school, which was very well arranged and with lots of kids. This made me think about the going up and down of pregnant women, probably up to the last possible minute before giving birth and the healthy constitution and incredible calves!

All women had incredible hairstyles and I asked them how they did it.  At the time I had long hair, but mine reached probably middle of my back, theirs went down to the middle of their calves, black like coal, strait as water cascade and they wore it in such a way that it looked like a hat, first pulled to the front then rolled around the head and making a bow, it looked just incredible and they only used ONE pin to hold it all.  I asked them to show it to me, which they obliged voluntarily, I took lots Sof pictures and they had fun about my reaction of wonder on their hairdressing.

 

Doing the hair

They also wore beautiful shirts, material woven also by them, and I would say this was one of the cases where the female were far more beautiful and groomed than the male, which in general in nature as a whole is the opposite.

After a while we were served a light snack of rice and veggies and the conversation turned into my dreaded return to our car. I dreaded it because if coming up had been rather difficult, I knew that coming down would be a total disaster or that I would have to slide down on my bottom and I think they dreaded it because the solution that could be offered would make some or many of the men sweat, not perspire like gentlemen, but sweat like animals.

The solution they offered was a Sedia Gestatoria or Gestatorial Chair which originally was like a ceremonial throne to carry the Pope on shoulders by four or more strong men.  I was told that although they did not have a Pope, there were sometimes very old people that needed to be taken up or down the slopes and therefore this chair was put to use.  Normally it would be carried by four strong men without any problem but …..   considering the size and volume of my persona, which was considerably greater than the locals, they would have to double the porters and thus the price. This explanation of course produced hilarity in all those present as they were calling me an “old big cow” and probably in not very polite terms, but since I did not understand a single word I even said thank you very much!!!

We started the descent to hell because although the chair was solid and the porters experienced, I was moving in it like a Mexican jumping bean and going down the slope looked even more steep than going up, I felt I might end down face first in the mud.  Besides, due to the consideration of the passenger, me, already mentioned and the fact that they did not really wanted to dump me, they had to stop more often, put me down and take their breath until finally after what felt like a very long time, we arrived at the bottom, I could alight of my throne and happily pay for the safe return to the road.  All was smiles and happy handshakes and me and my driver returned to Guilin with beautiful memories, great photos and the satisfaction that I had made it up and down the terraced rice paddies in China

 

I have travelled extensively and many times people ask me which is my favourite country.  It is really hard to make a choice as each and everyone has a different and distinctive element that has made me choose it for one of my travels. However, Namibia has been one of the best for quite many reasons.

When I arrived there I really did not know much about what to expect.  Upon arrival I started a flying tour of the country.  We were a very small group of people with a relatively strong adventure streak and took a small plane where the pilot was at the same time the pilot, porter, guide, advisor and also put petrol on the plane when needed.  Overflying Namibia is overflying vast expanses of desert, mostly reddish desert where you see a town every now and then.  We overflew salt fields, mountains of salt, machinery and where people did not look as much.

When we arrived at the Skeleton Coast there was no bone to be seen, of course.  The name is due to the skeletons of ships that have ran aground along these coasts.  The sea is rough and the winds are very strong so I guess when a storm blew, it took along most of the boats and ships that were in the area.  There was no hotel as such; there were little huts planted on the sand, solidly so, where you could seek refuge in case of storm.  We ate fish, of course caught by our pilot cum fisherman and cook.  Then we continued our flying safari and went somewhere north, into a stretch of desert full of dunes of different colours where the tents were fixed and very well provided, but where we had to walk some distance to the showers. The showers were just four flimsy walls and a bucket of water.  No “running water” but because it was hot and sunny, this openness was welcome. You had to shower fast to make water last, and if you needed to wash your hair, better do it with little soap that did not foam a lot.

The colonies of seals and sea lions were huge and noisy. I guess one of the things that struck me most in Namibia was the size of things or more exactly the proportions.  Coming from a big country like Mexico, I should not have been surprised but I was when the animals on the beach extend almost beyond the limit of your sight and when the dunes are as high as mountains, where there is one tree alone and isolated in many hundreds of meters. Plants that can live for hundreds of years without water look like dead but the moment they “smell” water they come back to life and in a matter of hours return to full bloom and green. I know this is nothing new, but it was to me as were the contrasts and the variety that struck me most.

 

We visited a town, a real one, called Swakopmund that was like a trip back in time.  The houses and the layout of the town were sooo German and even the white settlers dressed the part, and I was told it was like that everyday, not dress up for the tourist but that was their tradition. Namibia had been a German colony and in many things it kept the order and discipline of the former colonizers, but with the African touch that probably for me is what made its charm.

After the flying safari I took a tour with a tourist bus, our driver had been a pilot with the SA air force but when that finished moved to Namibia and took us, tourist around.  He was incredibly good looking but unfortunately for me kept his distance, so it was what we call a sight for sore eyes but nothing more. He was nice, well read and knew a lot about the country. In this tour we went mainly to the south of the country, where the land is still red, the vegetation scarce and the houses far apart.  I live in Switzerland, where the moment you get out of a town or city you see either arable land or cows, many cows together, peacefully grassing and making milk and or muscle. There are many cows per square kilometre. However in Namibia we were told that there are cattle, but because of the arid land, they have in the ranches certain number of square kilometres per head of cattle. Imagine that for one head of cattle to survive in the wild, they need several hectares of land, so scarce is the grass.

Travelling along the country our guides explained that the desert has different colours, gray, beige, black and deep red, depending on the composition of the sand crystals but all of it is hard and quite compacted, so the trails of the roads to go from one place to another are well marked and have to be respected.  One car print out of the road will remain as a scar to the land for many years; the winds can cover them but not erase them so be careful where you put your feet.

We visited a settlement of the nomads of the Namib, we saw mostly women and children with a fantastic skin and their hair was braided using some kind of animal fat and the ochre earth, it looks like a solid cask and I wondered how it must feel in the heat of the place.  I have a head that perspires a lot and just the idea of putting this kind of product on it makes me feel like scratching mad, but they did not look the worse for it, quite the opposite, it gave them all an air of beauty.

Another stop or drive more exactly that was impressive were the Singing Dunes.  They are relatively high dunes that on one side have a very steep slope so the idea is to arrive to the top with a 4-wheel drive and descend on the steep slope making an incredible sound like singing or crystal bells ringing!!!  If I had not experience it myself, would be unbelievable.  No other dunes, to my knowledge make such noise.  The guide told us that the reason is because all the grains of the sand have exactly the same size and shape, so when there is friction they make this tingling sound.  I do not know if it is true but it was a fantastic feeling and also sliding with the car down the slope gives you an adrenaline shot!

When I arrived in Windhoek, capital of Namibia, I did not know anyone but had the name and telephone of a lady that worked for the UNDP there, just in case I needed some help.  So upon arrival I just called her with greetings from Geneva and she kindly invited me for a coffee and during the conversation also invited me to the cinema, with some of her friends.  I gladly accepted the invitation and we fixed a rdvz at her office.  I did not really know the film but she highly recommended it, so there we go, five young women, all black and myself, white despite the suntan due to the safaris.  All this happened in 1992, and the political world at the time was not devoid of racial tensions in Namibia.  The movie was with Whoopi Goldberg and I more or less remember it had strong racial connotations of the abuse of white vs. black, and not even in Africa but somewhere in north America. The film heated the spirits in the room and there were expressions of anger and frustration, nothing extreme but still some rather frightening reactions. Finally the film ended, the lights went on and we were leaving the cinema when I realized I was among the 5 or 6 white people there, all others were black Africans, probably Namibians, and fairly young.  Their anger, freely expressed on the topic of the film became a bit scary and I not being extremely courageous wanted to disappear or change the colour of my skin.  I had not been exposed to racial hatred or dislike before and did not like it; this was just because of a film, what if it was for real?  The ladies were very pleasant and commented freely on their anger about the situation.  I could only keep quiet, did not want to upset my newly found friends.

This and more make Namibia one of the places I would like to visit again. The contrasts, the differences and all together the country makes it for me one of my favourites.  If you want to see some more of Namibia, look at the photos in this same blog. Hope you enjoy them as much as I have.

 

This true story happened over 40 years go. I was then young and beautiful, now I am neither.

 

I had just returned to Mexico after some months in Europe, after finishing my studies as Interpreter and Translator. I was trying to find a niche in the world of interpreters active in Mexico City. It was not very difficult as the competition was not so fierce as it is today.  We were enough to be able to find work as free lancers with relative ease, the economic situation in the country was booming and many companies were either bringing experts to share with the Mexican counterparts their knowledge or the foreign companies were eager to come and through sharing their technological or whatever knowledge, sell their products.

 

I had finished the rounds of the agencies that were hiring interpreters, to let them know I was back into active duty. Otherwise my time was spent at home reading, sawing and helping a bit with the housework.  One evening we were watching the news and heard that Marlon Brando was in Mexico to advertise a TV series he had made.  Fine, I thought, this should be interesting and that was that.

About 21.00 hours the phone rang, unusual time in my home, and it was one of the agencies, asking me if I was free to work the next day.  Just for fun I asked if they needed me for the interview with Marlon Brando.  She was shocked I had guessed! And I was even more shocked that it was for that. Of course I was free and more than willing. It was one of my first assignments after the return from Europe, so work was more than welcome.  I was given the time and venue for the press conference in the Estudios Churubusco, one of the main cinema studios at the time in Mexico City.

 

I had to get ready, wash my long hair, iron a nice dress and so on.  Also I had the idea of Marlon was like his character of The Godfather, i.e. an arrogant bastard with a very strong and sometimes hard to understand accent that treated all like dirt.  I also had to prepare myself for that, I could not answer back, I was ONLY the interpreter, his voice in another language and we had been taught we had no feelings, no opinion, nothing!

 

The following day arrived and I got to the studios with lots of time to spare, just to find out that the journalists were already there and like a bunch of hungry lions or hyenas, ready to devour their pray.  I was with the organizers, so when Marlon and Sam Peckinpah – the producer of the series, arrived I was introduced to them and to my great surprise Marlon was extremely nice and pleasant, the drooling of the Godfather was not there and he was smiley, talkative and gracious.

 

I was coached on the main subject of the press conference or what the organizers hoped would be the main subject which was a TV series relative to the American Indians that had been the “darling” of Marlon Brando and he wanted to promote it all over.  If I am not mistaken sometime later he won recognition from the Oscars for this work but was so angry with them for any of the many reasons that angered him, that he sent an Indian woman to pick up the prize, but that is another story.

Marlon Brando is always news, so the room for the press conference was full to the seams and there was a podium prepared so that Marlon Brando, Sam Peckinpah and myself could sit and answer all the questions.  These were fired as soon as we were sited, first of course some about the series, which were duly answered by both Marlon and Sam but then the questions turned personal to Marlon about Lupita – I still remember the name, a woman with whom he had been involved sometime, and when the subject became personal and related to Mexico in as much as the nationality of the lady, Marlon wanted to answer in Spanish. His Spanish left a lot to be desired, but it was almost impossible to tell him to let me do my job.  So some questions were half answered in a very broken Spanish that was hard to understand for the press and even myself. At one point the journalist that were not known to wear kid gloves in their questions shouted to him that he should let me – the interpreter, translate his answers, that he should stick to speaking in English.

 

He did not like such comment very much but realized that if he wanted to continue, it had to be done that way so for the rest of the conference he let me do my job in full, interpret back and forth and provide the journalists with the information requested.  I do no remember how long the conference was, but long enough for me, I was thrilled and stressed and almost shaking but finally thanks were given to all and the press left like horses in a race, I guess that they needed to write their copy and send them to their employers, either newspapers, television or radio stations.  40 years go there was no Internet so all had to be physically delivered or at best phoned.

 

We left the podium and backstage all the organizers were very happy, it had been a success and since I was still on duty, I was around, interpreting for Sam and of course for Marlon who invited me to visit him in L.A. if I ever was around, with the minor problem being only that he did not give me his address.  Maybe he thought that it was vox populior that I would never even consider trying.

 

I got back home without fully realizing just what had happened, it had been a job, money coming in and that was it.  Well, that was not all.  That same night in the news Marlon was news and so was I, ALL, I really mean all of the TV chains broadcasted a shorter or longer version of the press conference and since I had been sitting front row between the other two, I had become inevitably part of the story, also my voice was aired and my gestures recorded “for posterity”.  The telephone at home did not stop ringing for a long time, mostly for my mother as all her friends called to ask if it was really me with Marlon and congratulating my mother for my “achievement”.  My mother, typical mother, was very proud of this and grew more so by the minute, she responded with great joy that it was her precious daughter that had been with Marlon, that had helped him during the interview, etc.

 

For me the great day was the following day, as all the agencies that provided work for interpreters had seen the news, and had seen me, they all knew me and were able to judge my work which I believe had been good, so they contacted me and started offering me interpretation assignments of different kinds, I was literally launched into stardom by Marlon Brando.  It was the beginning of many years of great events, lots of work and full enjoyment of my profession, which lasts up to today, although now retired and working some very few days a year.

 

Some weeks later that agency that had called me for the press conference gave me a thick package with all the press clippings from the press conference, both national and u.s.a. newspapers. I believe I still have them, but I really do not remember in which of my boxes with memories they are.

For the anecdote, I went to L.A.  once after this and indeed tried to find his address through those tours “visit the houses of the stars” that were popular at the time. However no one knew where he lived and I gave up. The later years of Marlon’s life were not full of joy and happiness. Sorry for him but to me he was just great.

 

So thank you Marlon for having launched me into stardom, it was great meeting you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Twenty years ago Paty and I travelled in what is known as the Grand Circle, starting in the Grand Canyon and visiting among others Boulder, Monument Valley in the Navajo reservation, The Arches and Bryce National Parks, etc.  Most of the time she did the driving, for two reasons: one that she claimed to like driving and second I did not and still do not like driving. Also with this arrangement I had hands free to take many photos, some of which you can see in the page “u.s.a. THE GRAND CIRCLE” of my blog.

The whole trip was a great experience, we were able to see wonders of nature that surprised or humbled us but of course, it meant also sometimes very long days and even partly nights as getting from one town or hotel to the one in the next National Park was not always easy or short.

One of those long days we wanted to get from The Arches National Park to Bryce National Park but had run late, so we had to travel by night a good stretch of the road.  GPS and other electronic gadgets to tell you where you were and how far to your destination were not available and certainly our car was not equipped with them.   However we know how to read maps and follow the right roads and obey the traffic signals. So we were driving towards Bryce canyon on a secondary road that according to the maps was on the edge of a precipice on both sides, so we had to be careful not to get out of the road. We were chatting, as usual, about all and sundry when suddenly Paty tells me that there was a car following us relatively close.  So she decided to drive a bit faster, but so did the other car, then at one point she decided to go slower and the other did likewise, so obviously they were shadowing us like in the best films of cloak and dagger.  In a film this kind of suspense is part of the show and it is expected but in real life, when you are the cloak and the dagger is following you it is far less funny.  To make it all more “interesting” of course it was very late at night, we were in the middle of nowhere, driving through towns that were called Marysvale, Junction, Circleville, Panguitch etc. in a country that was not ours and although both of us are proficient in English, one never knows. These places were totally deserted, no signs of an open café nor a hotel and not even a bar, so we had to decide either stop and confront our shadow or continue driving as if nothing had happened and hope for the best.

We were still a bit away from Bryce, our destination that night so the decision was to continue as calm as possible and if and when we saw an open public place stop and call for help.  The open place did not materialize and we came to the crossroad to Bryce and just to make sure, we continued a few hundred meters and then still being followed.  Paty made an unexpected and unannounced U-Turn and very quickly got into the road to Bryce.  The other car had to continue a little bit until they found a place to turn and did so, probably not very happy to have been fooled.

The precious couple of minutes of this manoeuvre gave us time to enter the town and find a parking lot surrounded by hotels and houses in general, none of them with lights but we were lucky to find a parking space in the middle of a lot of cars and so Paty parked and in a one-two-three movement turned off the engine, the lights and we both slid down almost to the floor of the car, not to be seen.  We were quite scared, we did not know what to expect but had to assume nothing good would happen so we were almost holding our breath.  Saw the shadow car circling the parking several times, looking for us but when their search was unsuccessful, finally left.

We spent the rest of the night in the car, sitting or crouching afraid to even open the doors, lest the little light would signal our presence and of course dinner – forget it and use of toilet even more. Fortunately it was summer so sunrise was relatively early and once the first light of day is there, all looks better, even if…  Still a bit apprehensive about our potential pursuers, we had to go. When you have to go you have to go so we drove towards the entrance to the National Park and surprisingly or not, a few meters after the parking place where we had spent the night there was this big hotel, open 24/24 and looked clean, modern and SAFE!  Bit late for safety but finally it was good to know we had been very close to making it.

Our courage received a heavenly reward as we had one of the most beautiful sunrises I have ever seen in my life. The colours of the stone, the reflections of the sun and maybe the fact that it was another day and all was ok contributed to make it a fantastic beginning. It was so early that although the barriers were already open, there was no guard at the entrance to collect entry fees, so in we go and first things first, drove to the top where the facilities were located, and were needed in a sort of emergency plan. But after that and at leisure in silence and tranquillity we drove and walked around the Park, enjoying every minute of it, thanking our good star not only for the trip the previous night but also for the superb morning.

Having had a joyful sunrise and all, we started to feel a bit hungry so we returned to the entrance to the nice and clean hotel we had seen in the morning and missed the night before and had a splendid breakfast with all the trimmings and got ready to continue our trip of the Grand Circle. The whole experience, canyons, landscapes, views and all make of this one of my favourite trips and I only hope the different canyons will be preserved for generations to come.

 

The town of San Juan Chamula is located about 10 km from San Cristobal las Casas, and it is unique in its political governance, since they do not accept interference or impositions from the State government, nor in police nor military matters and basically in nothing at all, self-governed and apparently very well done so.

If you have been to San Cristobal you already have an idea of who are the chamulas and tzotziles, their dresses, customs not to mention their languages, which are for us Spanish speakers as complicated and alien as old Chinese.

In San Juan Chamula the main centre of attraction is the church, relatively small, with whitewashed walls but all the lintels of windows and doors and the bell tower are painted with a very bright blue and green pattern that cannot be missed.  To go in, which is the main purpose of the visit to this town, and unlike most other churches I know, you have to pay, but payment must be done at the town hall, where you get your entrance ticket and the very stern warning that cannot be mistaken for a joke, that it is absolutely forbidden to take photos inside the church.  True that in some digital media you can find now photos of the inside, but nonetheless they must have taken cheating the prohibition.

At the door there is an old lady that, just in case you missed it in the town hall, repeats in no uncertain terms that it is prohibited to take photos inside, that they are watching and should you be caught trying to trick the situation, they will take your camera, phone or whatever you are using and will destroy it. No Photos means NO PHOTOS whatsoever.

 

                            Details of the entrance door and main balcony of the church 

Finally you can go in and it is so different from any other church you can think of.  For starters there are no benches or seats whatsoever, the floor is covered with pine boughs that give it a beautiful ambience and pleasant smell. No electric lights at all and the number of candles is incredible, every nook and tiny space is full of them and all the walls are literally covered with statues of saints and various denominations of the virgin, and al of them with mirrors of various forms and shapes that serve to repel curses and bad ideas or feelings. We were told that although the statues look like to Catholic saints, they really represent the Mayan gods and divinities.  This would not be the only instance when the indigenous cultures used the images of the catholic saints to trick the monks and preachers into believing they had converted the Indians, while they kept their own traditions.

 

                                Old cemetery and church, and main square in market day

There are many visitors, mostly worshippers, all carrying packages of various sizes and forms, presents and offerings that may go from a little plant to a chicken, live of course to be left there and bottles of drinks that can go from a cola drink to strong alcoholic beverages. There are some healers and “advisors” waiting for the worshipers that may need them or their guidance. It is as a whole a very strange mixture of old Christian traditions, shamanism, pre-Hispanic beliefs and theatrical representations in part for the locals and also for the tourists that listen to the stories of the guides in rapt attention.

 

                                                                     The church 

When I left the church it I was with a strange feeling of having participated in a different ritual, full of strange beliefs and being under the protection of those saints/deities as long as I did nothing to offend them.  Outside the church you find the usual vendors of food and trinkets that mostly speak their own language, Totzil and where mostly the children or young people can also speak Spanish for the benefit of us tourists.  It is a strange feeling, being an interpreter myself, to be totally dependent of a colleague, but many many years younger, to understand and make myself understood.  Somehow you finally grasp the usefulness of your profession, albeit limited even then.

 

More years than I care to remember I found myself in Beijing Washington u.s.a.  If you have followed my blogs, you already know I spent two years in Beijing, P.R.C., teaching Spanish to young university students, all that because I had been teaching interpretation in Mexico City to a group of students with a scholarship.  These later group were the teachers of the former, just to clarify the timeline of the story.

I have kept in touch with most of them. There was a couple in which she had been my student in Mexico and later returned to her job as teacher of Spanish in Beijing, obtained another scholarship to spend a year in a South American country perfecting her Spanish which was already very good and her knowledge of grammar far outdid my own.  Her husband landed a job at the P.R.C. embassy in Washington, in an important department but not as ambassador, close but not there.  Towards the end of her stay in South America, and before returning to the P.R.C., they decided she would go to Washington to visit her husband and spent some time together. They had the very good idea of inviting me over for a couple of weeks and I had an even better idea to accept.

                                                         My friend and a burried statue 

So all was arranged and I would fly to Washington, they would pick me up at the airport and from then on I would be their guest and we would travel around the country with a group of Chinese from the embassy. At the time I was already working within the UN system of organizations and had the right to travel with a laisser passer, although officially only for official trips, I had discovered that it could be useful to expedite check-ins and boarding.  However the u.s.a. did not recognize it for official purposes, but nonetheless I took mine just in case.  After passport control and immigration, which at that time, in my opinion, was less humiliating and offensive that it became later, I was received by my friends with the diplomatic car of the Chinese embassy, driver and so on, all the officialdom you can imagine. I still laugh when thinking that since Chinese diplomats were permanently surveyed while in the country and I was a Mexican with no known links to either P.R.C. or u.s.a., the guardians, CIA, FBI or the like following my friends must have been surprised and lost at a Mexican national unknown to their services being received as a very VIP by the Chinese Embassy.

                                               A visit to the White House and its occupants 

At that time the general practice of the Chinese Foreign Office was to send the staff to the various destinations alone, which ment leaving in China their kids and sometime also their spouses.  When I first learn this was with the caveat that the family left in China were hostages so that those abroad behaved and returned.  I was never able to confirm or deny the hostage part of it, but during the summer holidays of the children each diplomat had the right to invite their kids all expenses paid by the government, to visit them in their country of residence, the embassy there would organize a trip for the families – all together and so the families were together for a while and then each returned to their jobs, either as diplomats or at school.  This is what happened when I was here, so we all, like 20 diplomats, their kids, my friends whose child was already at University and was not there and me went to Pennsylvania, Buffalo, Niagara Falls and to a lake in New York state.  All the Chinese and their kids were travelling in a bus belonging to the embassy, while my friends and I were driven in a diplomatic car, far more comfortable.  More laughs when considering our surveying team and how lost they must have been.

Regarding lodging during the trip, the diplomats and their families were lodged in some sort of hostel, while my friends and I were in a hotel.  One must not forget that in the communist world we are all equal but there are some more equal than others.  Despite that of course the main interested parties were very happy, reunited with their kids and parents respectively, travelling and seeing new things and learning a lot about the culture of the host country.  As for myself, I still remembered few words of Chinese, which helped to make everybody laugh, and also the fact that I was the guest of the boss and his wife, of course made me welcome all over. In general we had great fun, the visit to Philadelphia was instructive, the boss had informed himself of all we were to visit and gave us a guided tour, albeit in Chinese but still I had the advantage of being able to read and understand the notices in front of the exhibits in the museums or statues or whatever.

                                                      On the lake in up-state New York 

Niagara Falls was also great fun.  I had been there first time with my father as part of my 15^th birthday present, several centuries before. The falls have not changed much and we walked along the edge, the kids having the time of their lives and then somewhere we took a boat in one of the lakes of up-state New York and visited the great mansions, Gatsby style and totally new to all of us.

The trip lasted only two very full days, so after dinner on the second day, we started the return to D.C., arriving there very late, almost midnight and because of the hour I was granted the honour and privilege of staying the night at the same lodgings as my friends, which officially and for all intents and purposes was Chinese territory and I had no right whatsoever to stay there overnight but practicality forced the situation and very exceptionally I slept in China!

Maybe it is necessary to explain about my lodgings while in Washington.  As mentioned I could not stay in the same house as my friends, since that was Chinese territory and I had no right to be there.  So my friend’s husband, the boss, arranged with a Chinese family that did not have diplomatic status, to lodge me in their home and provide me with breakfast.  The embassy driver would pick me up in the mornings and return me in the evenings, so I was sleeping in the u.s.a. while the rest of the time needless to say was with the Chinese and somehow under their protection.

                              The Capitol, where the laws are made and view from the Hill 

While in Washington, as my friend was there also on holiday and a perfect host, she and her husband arranged for us to visit many of the parks and monuments in Washington such as the Capitol, Lincoln Memorial, Washington Monument, the Smithsonian Institution and of course the White House.  The plan was made and then the driver would go the day before to pick up the tickets, so we did not have to queue and since arriving in a car with diplomatic plates were deposited at the gate or door of the venue and allowed in immediately. Washington is a very beautiful city and I enjoyed the visit very much, with the great advantage that lunch and dinner were of course Chinese and most enjoyable.

    Lincoln Memorial, where Martin Luther King Jr. delivered his speech “I have a Dream” 

After several days in D.C. I had to return home and my flight to Europe was from N.Y. so the boss decided they would take me to N.Y. in the car, so that he could check on some businesses of China in the Big Apple, his wife could visit the town and I could take my plane back to Europe. So we drove there, I had a terrible cold but … upon arrival was lodged in a big hotel that was property of the P.R.C., although I learned they sold it sometime later.  This hotel was mainly used to lodge all the Chinese officials, diplomats and travellers while in N.Y.  At the time I believe I was the only non-Chinese in the hotel and of course all spoke Chinese, ate Chinese and lived Chinese style.  After a delicious dinner the boss ordered a very strong ginger tea for me, ordered me to drink it as hot as possible and sent me packing to my room, sleep off my cold and guaranteed I would be much better the following day.  I obliged and I sweat like a horse or perspired like a lady, but next day I was feeling much better, great considering the long haul I was facing flying back to Europe.

I returned home without problems, they continued their lives quite well also. Wish them well and thank them for giving me the chance of living Beijing in Washington, great fun!