Negotiating the mud in the dark

Negotiating the mud in the dark
Originally uploaded by ancho and lefty.

This is my second to last weekend here, as I will be moving to Acosta (the municipal center) on Oct. 25, the day after my 30th birthday. I had hoped to have more energy to run around and visit with people, but with the continual rain and ever-present crud in my respiratory system, I found the prospect of venturing out rather ho-hum.

This morning the sun did assert itself, if ever so briefly. It was long enough for me to slosh around in the back yard doing my laundry in shorts and my black rubber boots. The spot in front of my washer is nothing but slishy-sloshy mud. Occasionally, in an effort to act cute, a piece of my laundry likes to slip out of the washer and into the mud (this is usually after I have actually washed it.) Underwear and socks are the usual suspects. They are always trying to go against the flow. Fortunately, such shenanigans were not on the menu this morning.

I got so excited by the brief sun that I finished up my laundry and prepared to take a short walk to a neighboring community. I was trying to be realistic- I would take a leisurely stroll to the store two or three kilometers away and buy something that I can’t buy at our pulperia. It would be my first trip out of this community in about 2 weeks. I knew I had no business going out for one of my major hauls, as I have been sick, but I also am about crazy from the level of inactivity in my life the past week. I set out the door with high spirits. The sun was bright, I had packed a little water and my camera, and I was looking forward to a little forward locomotion. I passed my neighbor’s house and she yelled out, “where’s your umbrella?”

I replied naively, “You think it’s going to rain?”

I stupidly kept on walking. I headed out of the community, trudging up a good-sized hill. My calf muscles were awakening! The sun was revving up my vitamin D levels! There I was, on the road--- walking! I passed a beautiful horned creature and snapped his photo.

I topped the hill and headed back down to the river bottom. As I approached the river bottom, I noticed dark clouds. Then a faint raindrop. Then I turned around and headed back to my house---- foiled in my attempt to get back into movement.

It rained for the rest of the day.

At 4:30 I walked up the hill for dinner with a family that I will certainly miss when I leave here. I had not eaten much all week and was delighted by the victual bliss that greeted my arrival. Afterwards, I looked at about a million photos of first communions, confirmations, weddings, fishing trips, and elementary and high school graduations. Later we snapped photos.

Around 7:30 when I was preparing to leave my friends made me put on shoes belonging to the oldest daughter in order to negotiate the mud. Apparently, they were not satisfied with the clogs I wore up to their house. Two of the older kids walked me out to the road, from where I would precariously hobble steeply downhill back to my house. I was wearing a pair of leather boots--- with three-inch hills. I don’t know how well you know me, but if you are reading this blog, you probably know me well enough to know that I don’t wear heeled shoes very often. I was a site --- and got a few giggles as I ambled past the pulperia carrying a plastic bag containing two pairs of shoes (my inadequate clogs and a pair of flip flops for inside). Yet another indication to the young men who hang out at the pulperia at night playing an irritating gambling pinball game that I am a bit off my rocker.