Leslie Limon of Motherhood in Mexico has challenged the blog community to show her our Mexico.
I always thought that was what I was doing.
But I know what she means. She would like us to introduce her to our daily lives.
So, I will. Let me start by introducing you to my laundress, Anita.
OK. "Laundress" is not a Spanish word. It is a good old Norman term that gives a worthy title to people who do real work -- and do it well. Like butcher. Or wheelwright.
A long-time friend criticized me recently for taking my dirty clothes to a laundry. "I find it odd when any healthy man cannot do his own household chores."
I could easily wash my clothes. The duplex has a very good washing machine. And a sunshine-drenched line for drying.
It is the latter part of the paragraph that drives me to Anita. Sun-dried is great for tomatoes. But not for clothes. The process makes them too stiff for me.
I am not certain what Anita does to my clothes, but she always returns them to me soft, sweet-smelling, and folded as if a retired Marine works in her back room.
All of that for twelve pesos a kilogram. That is about 45 cents (US) for each pound of wash.
There will undoubtedly be some reader in Mexico who will point out that I am being robbed -- that his laundress pays him to do his wash. But, for me, it is a bargain. Simply to avoid stiff shorts.
By now you should be asking, "So, where is Anita's photograph?" The answer is simple. She is a craftsman, not a model.
When I asked if I could take her photograph, her answer was as clear in Spanish as it would have been in English: "No." But she allowed me to shoot her machines.
All of that for twelve pesos a kilogram. That is about 45 cents (US) for each pound of wash.
There will undoubtedly be some reader in Mexico who will point out that I am being robbed -- that his laundress pays him to do his wash. But, for me, it is a bargain. Simply to avoid stiff shorts.
By now you should be asking, "So, where is Anita's photograph?" The answer is simple. She is a craftsman, not a model.
When I asked if I could take her photograph, her answer was as clear in Spanish as it would have been in English: "No." But she allowed me to shoot her machines.
I told her what I was doing, and she rolled her eyes while shaking her head. I can only imagine what she was thinking.
So, Leslie, that is a start of what my Mexico looks like.
It is skilled. Humble. And bemused by her expatriate customers.
Do you want more? I have plenty of neighbors. And most of them love the camera.
So, Leslie, that is a start of what my Mexico looks like.
It is skilled. Humble. And bemused by her expatriate customers.
Do you want more? I have plenty of neighbors. And most of them love the camera.
