auf wiedersehen mein mitreisender

Marlene Bartz

There is never a good way to deliver this type of news because words are not adequate to describe our thoughts at moments like this.

Those of you who read the Facebook pages for Melaque and Barra de Navidad have already heard the news that Marlene Bartz, the owner of Marlena's restaurant in Barra de Navidad, has died.

It is a great loss. For numerous reasons.

I cannot claim to be a friend of Marlene's. At best, we were acquaintances, a status I have with most people I know here in Mexico.

But we were the type of acquaintances who would not merely pass on the street with a brief greeting. Whenever I would see her in town (usually while we were both exercising), we would stop and share stories of the town. Or if I met her in the grocery store (which was often), we would talk about which food looked fresh and how it could be best prepared.

Food was a major connection. She labeled her restaurant as "international cuisine -- German and Mexican." That is not a combination you see every day in these parts. But it was a popular draw for mainly the foreign community.

It was in her restaurant where we would have our most detailed discussions. I almost always dine alone, so she felt free to join me for our ongoing food discussions -- where we had more than a few polite disagreements.

I did learn early on, though, that prying too deeply on the ingredients in her recipes was verboten. There are some things that restaurateurs believe are best left in the mystery category.

And she humored me by letting me believe that my extremely-corroded German still had some conversational utility, along with blushes. Such as, my recurring confusion of using the word for pineapples when I meant bananas. She simply gave me that very Germanic smile that rests somewhere between sympathetic and disappointment.

When I heard of Marlene's death yesterday, the main theme from Ennio Morricone's The Mission kept coming to mind. I cannot tell you why. But something in the soulful oboe's opening line made me think of her. Those of you who know Marlene and who know the story about the oboe in the film will understand.

Probably for the same reason with which I started this essay -- "words are not adequate to describe our feelings at moments like this." Music, on the other hand, can touch areas where words dare not (or cannot) trod.

So, for Marlene I dedicate this video that, for me, captures who she was -- and how I will remember her. It may not be Wagnerian, but neither was she.