Monday, August 13, 2018

"40 años no son nada..." - El Árbol de Tule


(English version below)



Quiero enviar un grito gigante de gratitud a todos los que me ayudaron a dar un salto al "cuarto piso" este cumpleaños. Fue un día inolvidable que voy a desdoblar la memoria y revivirla muchas veces por muchos años adelante.

Hace unos meses me propuse (y le obligué a Omar, también) un reto para subir en bicicletas en una montaña de la Sierra Juárez para celebrar mis 40 años de vida. El pase se llama Pasa Juegos: una subida de 740 metros, en un poco menos de 16 kilómetros a través de colinas verdes que se vuelven a picos grandes, con un río rugiente a tu lado. En la parte superior, un restaurante con una vista increíble del valle y un desayuno con amigos. Una aventura para el cuerpo y el alma.

Estoy lleno de alegría por todos los detalles que mi comunidad contribuyó para que el viaje y el día fueran especiales...

A los pocos intrépidos que decidieron acompañarnos en el viaje —muchos sin tiempo para entrenar con antelación, pero con una solidaridad increíble para unirse a nosotros y poner a prueba las piernas, pulmones y corazones contra la montaña. Por despertarse temprano con sonrisas y risas mientras nos estiramos las piernas antes de que partiéramos.

Yo: "Entonces, ¿quieren hacer un gesto con la mano para que un conductor sepa que quieres parar y cargar tu bicicleta?
Kythzia: (levantando su dedo del medio)
-->
Yo: Sí, eso parece claro. ¿Todos están bien con eso?
(Gracias a Graciela, Frey, Fernando, Kyt, Diego y Luciano).

A nuestro increíble equipo de conductores que nos acompañaron a lo largo de la ruta, protegiéndonos de un tráfico miedoso a veces, recogiendo ciclistas en el camino, cargando sus bicicletas en camionetas y navegando hacia adelante, sus constantes porras y espíritu en todo momento.

Holly: "¡Venga, Megan! Dale! ¡Estás muy cerca de ese grupo de mamones ciclistas que están adelante! "
(¡Gracias, Holly, Hassan, Shane, Frida, Carlos y Martín!)

Por las flores que se pusieron en las mesas en el comedor, por los confeti y globos que encontré en la cima, por los jugos frescos, por los increíbles pasteles y crumble casero, por las mimosas, el dulce brindis de amistad, los abrazos, los regalos encantadores, la piñata, los WhatsApps de última hora para comprar provisiones y trazar y planificar, para compartir generosamente tu propio cumple conmigo, para los divertidos carteles que llenaron todo el camino para "animarme" y hacerme reír. 

"Keep on, Fartin’ Martin!"

(Mil gracias Hulk, Cobra, Martha, Aurelia, Shane, Frida, María, Fer, Luciano, Julián, María, Luken, Whitney, Joel, June, Etta, Vero, Graciela, Raquel, Uliana, Goyo, Alicia, Juan Pablo, Carlos, Martín, Carlos, Frey, Kyt, Dieguis, Mary Kay)

A los que ayudaron con nuestro entrenamiento y preparaciones antes—el increíble amigo que me prestó su bicicleta durante tres meses para que pudiera entrenar y alcanzar mi objetivo, los increíbles masajes tailandeses que ayudaron a mi retorcida muñeca a recuperar su fuerza para poder hacer el viaje, los excelentes “tips” sobre las rutas alrededor de Oaxaca para entrenar, el increíble consejo (¡y App!) para planear nuestros viajes en bici y aumentar nuestra resistencia. (Gracias a Alvaro, Marcos, Uliana, Brian)

Para mi cuerpo, a veces raquítico, para asumir el reto y probarme que podemos estirarnos, crecer y realizar pequeñas hazañas, a pesar de que estamos en un paquete pequeño.

A mis queridos amigos que enviaron sus deseos y aplausos desde lejos. ¡Gracias!

A la pareja increíblemente generosa y querida en Colorado, mi familia de lejos, que secretamente conspiraron para regalarme una bicicleta para mi cumpleaños, para poder mantener viva la chispa de ciclismo que me picó hace unos meses para muchos años más. (¿Cómo puedo agradecerles suficiente, Brian y Sara?)

Y a mi querido, Omar, que ni siquiera usa el Internet, que probablemente no leerá esto —por acompañarme, pase lo que pase. Para levantarte tantas mañanas en los últimos meses, mientras todavía estaba oscuro para escalar algo u otro, nadar, ir a spinning, empujar nuestros cuerpos a pesar de tener mucho sueño y mucho trabajo. Para sernos ñoños sobre los porcentajes de inclinación de los picos. Por cargar y descargar mi bicicleta de la camioneta tantas veces. Por hacer muchas de estas subidas casi dos veces porque andabas por delante en una pendiente loca y luego volvías a bajar para ver cómo estaba. Por animarme y echarme porras, a pesar de mi malhumor por ser aplaudido.

Omar: ¡Vamos, Megan! ¡Tú puedes!
Yo: ¡Cállate! Me estoy concentrando en no morir.
Omar: Ok, suiti.

Para planear el complot de este desayuno de cumpleaños, aunque odies planificar ... para los WhatsApps y llamadas y más llamadas para convocar a nuestro clan. Por el inmenso regalo que sé que no puedes permitirte, pero que de todos modos me lo estás regalando, estás loco. Por tu amor y compañía siempre.

Como dije bastante inarticuladamente en el brindis del desayuno, tengo la MEJOR comunidad de amigos y familiares del planeta. Me has llenado de tu solidaridad, amor y risa. ¡Gracias, Gracias!

Con mucho amor y valentía,
Megan
---
(and now some English)

















I want to send a giant YAWP of gratitude to all who helped make my leap to the “fourth floor” this birthday. It was an unforgettable day that I will unfold and relive for many years to come.

A few months ago I set myself (and by obligation, Omar) a challenge to summit on bikes a mountain in the Sierra Juárez on my 40th.  The pass is called the Pasa Juegos—a climb of 2,428 feet/740 meters over the course of a little less than 10 miles/16 kilometers through green hills that turn to peeks, with a roaring river at your side. At the top, a restaurant with an incredible view of the valley below and breakfast with friends. An adventure for the body and the soul.

I am filled with joy at all the many details that my community contributed to make the journey and day special…

To the intrepid few who decided to join us on the ride—many without any time to train in advance, but with amazing solidarity to join us and test their legs, lungs and hearts against the mountain—waking early with smiles and laughter as we stretched our legs before we departed.

Me: “So, do you guys want to pick a hand gesture to let a driver know you want to stop and load your bike?
Kythzia: (lifting up her middle finger)
Me: Yep! That seems clear. Everyone good with that?”
(Thanks to Graciela, Frey, Fernando, Kyt, Diego and Luciano)

To our amazing crew of drivers who accompanied us along the pass, protecting us from some hairy traffic at times, picking up riders along the way, hauling their bikes into trucks and steaming ahead, their constant cheers and spirit throughout.

Holly: “You got this, Megan! Go go! You’re so close to that group of douchebag cyclist guys up ahead!” (Thank you so much Holly, Hassan, Shane, Frida, Carlos and Martín!)

For the flowers that donned the tables at the restaurant, for the confetti and balloons that met me at the top, for the fresh squeezed juices, for the amazing cakes and homemade crumble, for the mimosas, the sweet toast to friendship, the hugs, the lovely gifts, the piñata, the last minute errands to buy supplies and plot and plan, for generously sharing your own birthday day with me, for the hilarious signs that donned the trail all the way up “cheering” me on and making me laugh. 

"Keep on, Fartin’ Martin!"

(A HUGE thanks to Hulk, Cobra, Aurelia, Whitney, Joel, June, Etta, Shane, Frida, Martha, María, Fer, Luciano, Julián, María, Luken,  Vero, Graciela, Raquel, Uliana, Goyo, Alicia, Juan Pablo, Carlos, Martín, Carlos, Frey, Kyt, Dieguis and Mary Kay)

To those who helped with our summit in advance—the amazing friend who loaned me his bike for three months so I could train and reach my goal, the incredible thai massages that  helped my wonky wrist regain its strength so I could make the journey, the great tips on routes around Oaxaca to train, the amazing advice (and App!) to track our journey and increase our endurance.  (Thank you so to Alvaro, Marcos, Uliana and Brian)

For my sometimes creeky, ‘ole body, for taking on the challenge and proving to me we can stretch and grow and accomplish small feats, even though we’re in a small package.

To my dear friends who sent best wishes and cheers from afar. Thank you!

To the unbelievably generous and dear pair in Colorado, my family farther afoot, who secretly conspired to gift me a bike for my birthday so I can keep the spark for riding that began a few months ago alive for years to come. (How can I say thank you enough, Brian and Sara?)

And to my love, Omar, who doesn’t even really use the internet, so probably won’t read this—for joining me, no matter what. For getting up on so many mornings over the last few months, while it’s still dark out, to climb something or other, to swim, to spin, to push our bodies despite having little sleep and lots of work. For nerding out about elevation percentages. For hauling my bike in and out of the truck so many times. For doing a lot of these climbs almost twice because you would bike up ahead what seems a crazy incline and then head back down to see how I’m doing. For cheering me on, despite my grumpiness at being cheered on.

Omar: Come on, Megan! You can do it!
Me: Shut up! I’m concentrating on not dying.
Omar: Ok, sweety.

For planning this whole birthday breakfast complot, even though you hate to plan…for the WhatsApp chats and phone calls and more phone calls to rally our clan. For the immense gift that I know you can’t afford, but are giving it to me anyway, you nut.  For your love and companionship always.

As I said pretty inarticulately at the breakfast toast—I have the BEST community of friends and family on the planet.  You have filled me up with your solidarity, love and laughter. Thank you, thank you! 

With much love and courage, 
Megan 






Wednesday, August 18, 2010

The Cupcaketress Reports

A little behind-the-scenes from the Lipke-Huckabay wedding fest.

Cupcakes: Critics report from M Martin on Vimeo.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Who's 90?

My grandpa turned ninety years old on July 16th this year. To celebrate, a few of us cousins got together some favorite memories and best wishes for the old whipper snapper. I collected them here in this audio postcard. Enjoy! (*)



(*) The music at the close is meant for "gettin' down," people. As that is the proper thing to do when celebrating ninety years of life. Don't just sit in your chair and listen, boogey down, would ya?

A little audio test

I'm trying out Goear.com to see if it's a viable option to post audio to my blog. Though, the more immediate impetus is to find a good place we can publish the great work of all of the students in my youth radio class.

Here's an audio postcard I made as an example for the class. Give a listen... And let me know what you think of the presentation and the quality of the audio.

Friday, April 16, 2010

Recent Travesties and Triumphs in the Kitchen

FAIL.

The dairy-free, yeast-free amaranth loaf didn't turn out so well. I followed the recipe to a T. So, what up? Anyone have another recipe I could try that's yeast and dairy free, using a whole grain flour...? This one didn't work.

Mooshy middle = back to the drawing board.



SUCCESS!
However, the savory seasoned nuts I made turned out great!. Take your pick between almonds and pecans.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

I was considering a pun for my title here, but felt it was too much for you, dear reader.

Tonight I made vegetable samosas for supper. A tiny pocket of yummy goodness. And whilst chatting with a British chum yesterday (I've been plotting my samosas since then) we discussed the finer points of food wrapped around itself. Samosas, quesadillas, calzones, empanadas, stromboli, runza...(there must be more!)--what do they have in common?

1. No messy clean up--pocketed food is its own plate.
2. Easy portability from plate to mouth (forget the complication of utensils)
3. The novelty that you are cooking a miniature, edible oven (the pocketed food) inside another oven (the conventional kind)--as the veggies, meats or cheeses simmer together inside the outer coat of doughy goodness.

This was my first attempt at samosas. And this recipe from Real Simple was just that, simple. Check it out!


I'm washing that down with some seasonal Christmas beer. That's right...unbuckle those pants.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Thanks, Mom.

Hey lookey loo, I'm cracking open your soap, Mom. Yay for delayed satisfaction and Christmas gifts.

Friday, December 11, 2009

Legal, Baby!

It's real, it's real! The Hub Oaxaca is now, officially, an Asociación Civil. We're on the books. We're a non-profit. And that's us, the team, holding the Hub's statutes in our hands. Now the real work begins...Come and check out what we're up to, friends.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

What's for supper?


Veggie pancakes, folks!

Thursday, November 12, 2009

What's this...?
Let's get closer...
Uh oh.

Monday, November 02, 2009

Day of the Dead

I was trying to think where I was last year around this time--as I can't recall distinctly the flurry of events that has overtaken Oaxaca in the past several days. It is Day of the Dead--a big celebration here in Oaxaca. The part of the city that finds itself inside offices or schools starts to shut down on Wednesday. And the the city that exists in the cobblestone streets, in restaurants, out in small municipalities with dirt roads, just outside the city center, in cemeteries and in the foyers of many a family home starts to come alive. It's high tourist season here. Normally, that drives me inside, away from the crowds of strangers marching around with their cameras and fanny packs. But this year, I want to explore a bit. And so...

After a much-needed early evening nap (it's been that kind of day), I take off with Rafael to explore the Panteón General (the main cemetery inside city limits). All the niches are filled with candlelight. But we're a day early for the main festivities--so the sand sculptures are not yet up. We snake around ancient grave sites teetering above ground level, the earth seeming to push some coffins right up to join us. And then we stumble upon a concert; right there, wedged between some niches and graves. It's Mozart's Requiem--appropriate. People are lounging on top of tombs, leaning against stone Virgin Mary's, or giant crucifixes. Rafael and I nudge our way right next to the choir, squatting in the dust on the edge of a giant tomb. This is unreal.

Next we make our way for San Martín Mexicampam. I've been tantalizing Rafael with stories of the "best Tlayuda in town." He wants to try it out for himself. I'm wondering if the tiny hole-in-the-wall place that Juliette and Felipe introduced me to will be open at midnight on a Thursday. Of course it is! Midnight is prime Tlayuda time, of course! We wrangle ourselves a four top and order up. The service is syrupy slow tonight. We yawn. Rafael puts his head down. But the food comes, steaming hot. I open my Tlayuda like a book, fanning some cold air into it just like Felipe.

Once stuffed, we chug in the Volkswagen up hill toward neighboring Atzompa, where I've heard rumor of amazing decorations and food. Laura and her visiting gang are there. They've already done a lap and are huddled around in a circle drinking hot chocolate when we arrive. Rafael and I share a cup for ourselves, and some pan de muertos. We stroll through the tiny cemetery. It is so adorned with flowers in the bright yellows and pinks so common at this time of year, towering candles and photos that there's hardly room to walk. Someone is filming, a camera posed atop a makeshift crane is parked in the far corner of this place. A band has been hired and is playing, rather loudly, a serenade for our dead friends.

Once chocolate and bread has been downed, it's time to go. It's only 1:30 or so (an early night for many a Día de los Muertos reveler), but our group is ready to depart. We pile (all seven of us) into Rafael's little sedan. It doesn't help that Laura and 3 of her friends are all gringo height (towering at 6' or over). But suffering makes for some very funny jokes. So it's a pretty jolly ride back to town.

I step onto my front stoop at 2 AM. A lovely day, a lovely day with the dead!

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

I am currently chewing on one of these...



Cucumber and Goat Cheese Sandwiches

I absolutely recommend that you chew on one, too. Super simple, and super tasty. Thanks for the suggestion from Real Simple's recipe archives.

Provecho!

Monday, September 28, 2009

Why reinvent the wheel? Just resell the old square.

I have been a lazy blogger. But in some respects, I have not... Eh...? eh...?

I have been blogging over at HarmonyWishes.com for the last few months. And thus, have entered a personal blogging slump on my own site. It's sad. I know. Why do burnt out at 31? I don't know.

Photo Credit HarmonyWishes, inc

So, hey! Why not check out what I've been writing over at HarmonyWishes?

Here's their blog site. And here's one of the latest two blogs I just posted recently. If you're so inclined, wander around on the HW's site. They've got some amazing images to share. And as a further scoop: another blog will go up on Thursday. So check back!

Photo Credit HarmonyWishes, inc

I haven't forgotten you, lovely reader. I have just run out of steam over the last couple months. It might be because I was battling the flu (not the pig-inclined variety--but just as brutal) More to come! I promise.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Mirror, mirror

I have an extremely vain moth camped out in my bathroom...



"Mmm, is this my good side? No? Every side is good. Oh, does anyone else have eyes as pretty? No. No they don't."



What do you think she's saying to herself?

Thursday, June 11, 2009

That Adorable Pandemic

This is the cutest photo I have yet to see concerning the swine flu. Wouldn't you agree? It almost makes you want to hug a pig.

The World Health Organization has made it official: the swine flu is a pandemic. They've raised the alert level from 5 to 6. They're reporting rising numbers of those affected by the H1N1 strain.

Honestly, I don't know what to think. The last flu epidemic killed about 1,000,000 people back in the late 60s. That's a pretty scary number. And yet, the New York Times reports that every year between 250,000 and 500,000 people die from the flu. So pandemic or not--there are a lot of people affected by even the simple strain virus.

A good friend of mine here in Oaxaca has a co-worker who's child is infected with swine flu. He's still going to work, donning a face mask, of course. My first reaction was, "What is he doing?! Tell him he MUST go home!" And a day later I'd almost utterly forgotten about it. Is our collective memory as a society too short to heed the warnings of a pandemic? Or are we merely reacting appropriately to something we can't really avoid.

Wash your hands. Eat well. Rest well. Get to the doctor if you're feeling ill. What more can we do...? I say, more pictures of cute children wearing face masks, for sure!

*photo taken from the NY Times online.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Cloistered Days of May

I've been lax in posting since the swine flu descended and my computer died simultaneously. Even now that I've been back and up and running electronically for a few weeks, I've been remiss in sharing news. So here's a quick round up via pictures. Let's consider this a kind of storybook.News came rolling in about the discovery of more and more swine flu cases in México and beyond. But being without a computer made the consumption of that news tricky. For good or bad, I had to acquire my information from a range of sources, friends, neighbors, Oaxaca papers and brief interludes on the internet using friends' computers. First things first, wear a mask, they say. But not two hours later, a follow-up article warns, "masks don't work after 2 hours of continuous wear." And then a day later, "Masks work up until the point you take them off; then they are contaminated." And finally, "Masks don't work." What's a girl to do?
How about stay at home and play ping pong with her neighbors wearing a mask? Seems safe.

Although, it depends on your opponents... (they look devious)When I'd venture out into the street (which was very seldom that first week), it didn't seem like anything was different. Most people were walking around, just as usual. Many of them without masks. But then you happen by the a store window with an odd sale on offer. Or perhaps you'd cross by the Seven Regions Fountain on a main thorough fare and see this:



Even the statues and graffiti art were taking precautions.

The main trouble with a health epidemic in Mexico is that the sources for information are flawed. The print media is largely sensational, slow and not very reliable. The internet, while more up-t0-date, can be filled with alarmists trying to fill the 24-hour news cycle with something, anything. My neighbor suggests this is precisely why we should be generating news on the ground level, amongst neighbors and citizens. Now, I'm all for citizen journalism. I think it's an important and vital tool for sharing information at the local, national and global level. In fact, I'm dedicating a large part of my work here to training those very citizen journalists. And yet, I have to say I had my misgivings about talking to people around Oaxaca during the initial couple of weeks of swine flu fury. My dear Mexican host family called it a hoax. They thought it was the government's way of distracting attention away from other issues. And they weren't alone. The teachers' union--who had planned a strike during the first week of pandemic panic--speculated that it was a ruse to obscure their agenda. But then there was my neighbor's Spanish instructor who had a friend, a nurse, who said there were many more dying in the hospitals than was being reported I have to say I am skeptical of both sides. I have a hard time believing information shared from a friend of a friend of a neighbor. People love to gossip here--and have a different sense of the line between chronicalling and storytelling. They also have a deep (often merited) mistrust of the powers that be. So how do you listen to all that static and pull out the truth from it? I don't know. For me it was weighing what I was reading, with what I was hearing, with what my gutt told me.

And after a week holed up in my house, my gutt told me to get some air. So I made a field trip tp the grocery store for some supplies.I made plans for dinner and chocolate brownie sundaes with friends. Veggie stew and homemade cornbread...Mmm...worth possible infection!
Chocolate makes everything better...even H1N1!

And eventually, I ventured out with Laura and Caitlin to a café. I know! Enclosed, indoor space. Daring!
Here is my first out-of-the-house smoothie. Isn't it pretty. You'll note that I'm writing a long letter to Aubrey at the same time. (Recognize the letter, Aubrey? I hope I didn't rub any pork flu on it...)Mostly, I spent a lot of time reading and writing, and staring at my own feet...


**Note to those following this blog--I backlogged a few entries for April and May. So if you're interested there are some new "old" entries here and here, or you can just scroll down a bit.