Eminem, River

Acambay Government's Palace Mural by 
Antonio Ruiz Pérez
In 1912 a massive earthquake hit this city
Pueblo Nuevo entity









I'm once again in the Acambay Municipality, but this time at the Pueblo Nuevo entity. Morelia proved to be a complicated state for the college to comply towards providing the safety of the students and I think that says something for the state of affairs in this country.

Those menaces have the possibility of becoming a strategy towards solving a larger puzzle for a indigenous Foundation, I think. What will become of artisans in this country? Our crafting traditions seem to defy a prolonged, endless slope of falling rocks. Yet, resilience is something I will always be amazed of. The artisans hands move swiftly, it's like watching a typist creating beautiful sentences and looking elsewhere, unaware of the mechanical precision of their dexterity.

In minutes, knots and twists become wheat braids, when I look around, long strands of plastic, have become a purse. Four disheveled dogs sit, move along amongst our interaction. Women from the community open small tupperware's with food over the table opening little pockets of delight: Quintoniles (leaves of the amaranth), sliced agave plant with charales (small dried fish) in red sauce, guacamole, hand made tortillas (blue and white). We all make ourselves a taco. Joke around, ask questions, ponder.


On our way back, the music was playing. The bus was filled with that laughter that comes from young people interacting. Ed Sheeran and Eminem were doing a great job until cars started stalling. A large screen of smoke came from a burning car by the road. It was not a crash nor grotesque, only a red flag of a smoky, open questioned event.

A few miles after, the cars were stopped just before the toll payment booths. Rigoberto, our van driver suggested, maybe the system was down but I felt dizzy and looked at some chains yanking by the road. I said, earth's shaking. Everyone of us went to our cell phones to check the status of our loved ones.

As I got home after hours of traffic (the 7.2 quake made a car exodus in every part of the city) I had a small moment to reflect about a moment at the Acambay's Government Palace. One of the students was worried because the region's chronicler, whom I contacted to get some information, told them we were standing on the most dangerous place on earth in case of a earthquake. I patted her on her backpack, reassuring her, nothing was going to happen necessarily today. 

Isn't that life playing by with it's own inner rules and plasticity, above and beyond our best wishes? You get on a plane and surrender to the illusion you are not controlling your choices for an instant, but shouldn't your whole life be that same realization? To surrender to it?

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