This news did not feel great. They got me to question things such as: did I make a mistake? Followed by "what if this is perfect and I am supposed to be exactly here, right now?"
I have been oscillating between the two, with a little extra weight on the latter.
I believe in Magic. I also believe in moving my feet and so far, we have almost 500 of the 1000 signatures needed to get some attention. Please add yours, your friends' / neighbors'? Clean water is a big big deal in many parts of the world and if we fix it in one place, maybe we learn to fix it in others. Maybe this is what this is partly about.
This weekend was a holiday here, including today, Monday. Possibly, for this reason, very little work got done on Saturday and none today. I hear that some of the crew did show up this morning, removed the forms around the bathroom wall, and then went home for the day, hungover.
So tomorrow we are back at it and I had a very sweet, lovely time "at the house" with Lila in the late afternoon. It sure feels good over there. And the house is starting to feel livable, in my imagination.
Not even a whiff of poop in the air. Maybe the sewer workers were hungover too.
As I walked home to my cabin through the bustling village tonight, a mug of Nutella-hot-chocolate in my hand, I had a big smile and an easy heart.
Tomorrow, I am going to the CFE to get an answer about the electricity!
Ok, this is not going to be a fun post.
If you want just the good stuff, you may want to skip it.
Later on this afternoon, Lila and I will walk over there and clean up from the week's work and take some happy photos to balance this out. I actually hesitated to write about it, but decided that if you're reading this, you're on this ride with me - roses and thorns.
For those of you who want the whole thing, here goes.
Let's start from the beginning, which is actually only a few weeks ago. Feb 3 or 4 or something like that.
About to decide whether or not to buy this little piece of land, I had a couple hesitations, one of them being the proximity to the water treatment plant. From what I understand, this is the second one in the village, and also the much newer one. The first one is close to the beach and I can often smell that it leaves much to be desired.
To gather some data, I asked around and checked my sources.
One woman whom I have observed to be a bit inflamed and "ready for war," spoke of the horror of the water treatment plan. The noise, the smell, the pollution. She was actually moving out of the little trailer she was renting as we spoke.
Several other people, including one I know better and whose opinion I trust, said that it was going to be fine. That it was shut down at the moment and would be working well when it re-opened. Much newer structure and systems, no problem.
I bought the land and I have seen people working on the very quiet, all white, very square building, over the last few weeks. No sound, no motors, it is still shut down. Possibly for repairs. Perfect.
Once, I thought I smelled "something" but I was not sure.
This week, I became sure.
A smell, not a good one, coming from that general area.
Which perplexed me because there are still no sounds, no mechanical activities. But hey, I know so little about these things and so I just shrugged and vowed to plant roses and honeysuckle and jasmine close to my house - and also always have a stash of incense on hand.
It would be fine.
Until this morning.
This morning, a friend introduced me to a woman who lives in the neighborhood and is much more knowledgeable than I am. She is also not feeling well.
"They have been dumping the sewage from the town straight into the field," she said. "Thousands of gallons of water every day for a month, now. Many people are sick."
To illustrate her point, she sent me photos and a video. NOT GOOD.
AND whenever the word "field" is mentioned, unless I am mistaken (I will for sure check on this), I think it refers to "my field." Ooof.
She spoke about how she had been calling the City for a week and how finally the "delegado" came by yesterday with a biologist, and how they explained that the well which the village draws all its water from is only 500 meters from where the sewage is being dumped. And this is not the rainy season yet.
On fire, she had just created posters and a petition and was on her way to try and gather a bunch of signatures to protest against this.
A phone conversation from last night with two close friends rang in my ears. "I am not interested in being involved with anything "big" while I live here," I told them. I want to paint, I want to write and I want to do my work. Ya.
And now this. Pretty much in my face. Something that impacts so many people and animals. In my freaking face.
The first thing I wondered is: do we know what it is we would like to see happen? For sure what is going on right now has to stop. But what is the alternative, the solution, the sweet spot? This, I would like to know. Because maybe we could make some moves in that direction, learn how to facilitate that.
While Neta (whom I am looking forward to meeting in person "in the hood") went to town to put up posters and get signatures, I created an anonymous online petition.
So yup. This is today's flavor.
I am not panicking. I feel more as though this is something to be addressed, with many lessons in the process, I am sure.
Again, water. Isn't that odd?
If you are up for it, I would love for you to sign the online petition because hey, this is important stuff.
HERE it is (ignore the request for a donation from the website once you have signed).
This week, the exterior walls reached their final height and it they taller than I would have thought, which is great, especially because of the heat.
I'm happy with the little clay blocks we added for light and ventilation. I will just have to block them when I the air conditioning is on (I first wrote "If" but changed it. We are getting electricity, right?)
In retrospect I wish I had decided to add them to the bedroom also, it would look better from outside, all matchy. But hey, they look great.
I was told that "el barbon" had come by to ask who had lent us the water hose. His question was answered and he went on his way. This is a perfect opportunity to remember whose basket is whose.
I must stop drinking Coca Cola. Especially in the giant cups they all keep cutting out of the bottom of the liter bottles. Recently, Jorge hands me a delicious looking mini-swimming pool of iced cold Coke whenever he sees me arriving. Then at night, I find myself craving the evilish elixir.
The week is almost over. I was hoping we would get to the plastering of the inside walls so that we may start on the roof, but I am guessing this will be next week.
Also, we got the "laminas" that will cover the patio. We had a talk about them a few weeks ago and decided that they would be a better - although not as cute - alternative to the palm-covered roof. Less expensive and less bugs. Also, they won't have to be sprayed with insect stuff every year. I think it will still look great.
Conversations are turning to what do we want the doors to look like, how about the shower? I will be connecting with Ibis who has been cutting the little wooden squares for my Hearts and hopefully make some magic with him.
This is so fun that in the back of my mind an idea is brewing of not stopping once this house is done. I think that's how I do things a lot: make a pilot and then let the pilot make babies to share with the world.
Also, Catarino who always seems a little amused and not very crazy about me, handed me his bag of Doritos during lunch this week! I knew it was kind of a big deal so I dipped my hand in the bag just as I saw the words "Chile y Limon" on the bag. I knew they would be too spicy for me but man, no way I was turning down this offer. Minutes later, my eyes were burning more than a little bit - a pair of sunglasses took care of it until I was safely out of sight in my car.
When I sat down to draw the "final" plan for the house, last month, I right away knew that I wanted it to be "L" shaped. Later on, I realized that it was probably because of the house my grandma created when I was around ten years old. She had built if from an old wine cellar and it was wonderful. Actually, this house has been coming back to me quite a bit, lately. That time period too. Now that I think about it, she was around my age when she took on the love task of turning a 17th-century castle into a hotel. Funny how this works.
So, "L" shaped. Plus it's Lila's and my initials, the first letter of the word Love, it's good stuff.
To me, an "L" shaped house holds us. I can see a loved one coming out of the living room holding a cup of coffee (must buy coffee) while I get up with my crazy morning hair and we meet on the patio. Held.
So I drew the two sides of the "L," which were originally the same size, which is silly because no harmonious "L" has the same two sides. I fixed that by adding two meters to the long side.
I stumbled briefly about the bathroom.
It had to be accessible from the bedroom and from the main room. So... corner. Yes, but what about natural light?
Because as we are building to the limits of the property line, I have no windows on the two sides that are adjacent to potential neighbors - who may also want to build on their property lines. How was the bathroom going to get natural light AND ventilation?
My pencil was waiting for an answer and that's when I drew a little funny bumpy shape that allowed for a bathroom window onto the patio. Bingo! I showed it to Jorge, he approved it and we started building.
But as the days passed and they were doing the foundation, I could no longer "see" that shape. "You will," he told me calmly. He is so calm, I love that. Ok, I will.
Yesterday, I did!
All of a sudden, there it was, just like on the paper! SO FUN.
That little bumpy shape will be where the sink goes (I am thinking it will be a beautiful one, too - YEARS ago at the market in Mexico with my close friend Carol, I had fallen in love with one of these ceramic sinks and I told her that one day, I would build a house to put around such a sink) and we had visioned a high window for light and air. A circle, Jorge had said. I love circles.
By the end of the day, having spent time in that sweet little spot and imagining brushing my teeth there, I visioned a window above the sink. The mirror can go on the side, there are no laws that say that mirrors need to be right above the sink. For me, I would much rather be looking at plants and flowers than my face, first thing in the morning. So there will be a window above the sink, with a little curtain to close for privacy, when needed. Man, this is such a joy.
And now that we can see it almost "for realsies" I saw that this funny shape calls for a little concrete sitting area right below it, on the patio. We'll talk more about concrete furniture in a bit. It's a Mexican thing and while it cannot be moved, it has some pretty great advantages.
So here we go. Forms got placed last night and will most likely come off today.
I am bringing the crew pizza in a bit and I believe we are going to "punch out" the windows.
Conversations are turning to "where will plugs and light switches go" and I can feel an acceleration. Also, I love that we are all talking about plugs and light switches considering that there is (yet) no electric power to the land. You know what? No one ever mentions that. It's a though we all know we will have electric, and so be we build for that.
Pretty powerful to work with people like that.
I was a little agitated the rest of the morning. This is pretty much exactly the kind of stuff that rattles me: lack of Clarity, not knowing who is the good guy or the bad guy or just the right or wrong guy. Also, risking making someone mad. And then, risking getting screwed. I don't like any of this and the whole agua situation seemed like some sort of such landmine.
I could feel myself being rattled and I knew that the only way out of this was going to be through this.
I talked with myself, I tried to listen to what wise people would tell me. Finally, I landed on: this is business. Do what you need for business.
Ok. In this case, 1000 pesos is better than 2500, all other things being equal-ish.
I drove over there to let my crew know that we were going to get our water from Alberto. Ya. "Ya" is Spanish for "done," "no more." It has a nice clean ring of finality, of self-assuredness too. Which I needed.
They were having lunch under the tarp shelter they built and we all love - including Lila, especially when it is lunchtime - and I gave them the news.
And then I saw their faces which I am getting better at reading. Jorge was the one who spoke: You know he's getting water from the guy who took our 2000 pesos, right? Yup. I know. But it's 1000 pesos instead of 2500 and so here we go.
Did Alberto tell the "barbon" (that means the bearded guy - the 2000 pesos guy) he was going to share his water with you? asked Jorge.
Hmmm. Well, shoot. I dunno. That was a good question.
Looking around this big field it suddenly starts to look like an all-male cast version on Peyton Place, with the characters' personalities starting to emerge - and me trying to make some sense of it all, and get shit done.
Ok, I'll go check, I said. Lila, come with me.
The two of us walk across the field to Alberto's place. Her tail is way high and I pretend I have one too.
Seeing me coming he smiles and puts Eva-the-pitbull inside his car.
Does he know? I ask immediately. Does he know you're going to share the water with me?
Hmmm. Not yet.
Ok, well, he needs to know. Because if he sees a new hose coming from yours, who knows how much he is going to like it.
To my surprise, he agrees.
Alright. Let's think. He says. I can tell he still would like me to give him 1000 pesos. AND he knows I need water. And to be fair, he has been giving us water for a while, now.
You'll just use my hose, he says. No other hose; just whenever you need to fill up your water, come over and use my hose. The same way we've been doing it.
I can see that. As a temporary - while we build - solution at least.
So we agree to this. 1000 pesos, and as much water as we need, for now. Once the cistern is in place, we'll revisit. Also, I can always order a tank of water from my mechanic (I know, it's odd but stay with me here. My mechanic Dani recently started a water delivery business. I trust the guy fully and while it's a little pricey, it's definitely a great backup plan, with zero drama)
I hand him 1000 pesos.
I'm still left with the question of having to tell Juliano that I will not be using his water ie: paying his 2,500 pesos and as I ponder this out loud, Alberto gives me the solution: Just tell him - and your crew - that we are neighbors in the village and that as such, I am doing you a favor. No money, just a favor.
Which I certainly don't do well, if at all.
And yet, it suddenly seems like an easy out. This thing is about to be nicely tied with a bow and we may be getting really close to not talking about agua again.
Lila and I walk back to our place and I let the guys know that anytime we need water, just ask Alberto and they will fill up our Tenaco. As a favor. They look at me and stay quiet. I may imagine a speck or respect in Anselmo's eyes, but I very well be mistaking. If so, I don't deserve it fully.
Twenty minutes later Juliano's truck pulls up and I take a deep breath and march over to him. I let him know that for now, I will not need his water because my friend Alberto is doing me a favor and letting me use his water.
That's two lies in thirty minutes. My quota for the year I am pretty sure.
Now that I write it, though, I am thinking that hey... I didn't say he wasn't charging me. I said he was doing me a favor. Which is kind of true. Also, that's what liars do: justify. So that's a little scary and I can tell there is a slippery slope there. I'll be sure to step aside from it.
Juliano flashes me his perfect smile and says no worries! Whatever this really means, I am sure glad it's over.
As I left the house at sunset, the tenaco was filling up nicely, and dare I say, peacefully.
I guess in the end, we ARE using the "barbon's" water, huh?
(And because Life likes to teach us our lessons in themes, yesterday was the first day that we started to work on the plumbing. AND got a whole bunch of progress on the fosa.)
The topic at hand is water.
Which is actually doing some fun tricks on my mind whenever I now turn on the faucet in my sweet rental cabin in the village. We are on both "city" water and using a roof tenaco. As long as Jose, my landlord, keeps the tenaco full, we always have water for the shower, outdoor kitchen sink and bathroom. Now when it comes to watering the garden, it gets a bit more fun as we are then using the city water ... which gets turned off at night! So, many times I have tried to water the garden to realize that hey, someone has not turned it on yet. For some reason, I like this. I like all these reminders of the backstage of life. Kinda like going into the kitchen or linen closet of a fancy hotel. No, stuff does not appear by magic, There are knobs and carts and people behind all of it. It feels more connected to me, more human. And now that I think about it, that's a lot of what I like about living in Mexico.
All this to say, when I turn on a faucet these days, I feel differently.
So there I was, watering the lush little tropical garden that has enchanted me for over a year now when the young man I mentioned earlier was about to walk out of the gate, lunch in hand, ready for his day of building at the land. Alberto (YES! I found out his name through a tiny bit of trickery) temporarily lives with his friend my landlord right behind me and also is building a house on the same land as I am. Double vecinos we are, which is kind of fun. Because he was witness to a slightly heated exchange between me and his amigo a few weeks back, his natural friendliness has been a bit tentative but I think we both like waving at each other across the field and then parking our dusty cars together in the village in the evening. Over the weeks, he has shared a few things with me and our talk about getting electricity has been good.
As he was getting ready to leave for the day, I asked him if he had gone to the office to submit his own request, per the suggestion of the CFE inspector, on Monday. "Not yet," was his answer - which was hard for me to hear and exactly the kind of opportunity I keep being presented with in order to hone the patience I need to live here. "I need to get there," he said. "I will soon." Since I was asked to go back to the office on Monday to receive The Decision and since I believe that the more of us request electricity by then, the better our chances of receiving it (at possibly a better price), all of me got on "WHAT THE HECK, DUDE???" mode. Alberto reiterated how great it was that the guy had come by after all these months of nothing happening, how much we could all get done together this way, too. Our next community effort, he said, was to try to get the big trucks who cross "our" rivers on their way to building the new highway, to use the main road. "We'll get together as a community and try to make this happen," he said. As I briefly envisioned what such a gathering would look like - not your regular HOA - I wanted to come up with all kinds of excited gestures to convince him to make a right turn instead of a left one this morning and GET HIS BUTT TO THE OFFICE. But I knew better, so I wished him a great day, said that I would see him "over there" soon and continued watering the banana trees.
Reaching my fence and about to walk out, he asked me what was going on with the water. Did I manage to get it? To which I was happy to be able to answer that yes, I had come to an agreement with Juliano and would be using his water.
Alberto winced. "Be careful with him" he said. Oh dear. Please go away and let me water my hibiscus and keep this little box neatly tied. It's not even 8 am.
I sighed. "Okay, tell me." "Well, I know him well. He'll do anything to get money out of someone. He's not really a good guy." "But he looks so good!" I wanted to say. Because, well, he does. Handsome, smiling, fast talking and super vivacious. Great eye contact. Really white teeth. Honest should come along with these attributes, no? As if I didn't know better.
And then, right there as I turned off my hose to hear better, I was served a complimentary, unrequested breakfast of "gringa lesson 101."
Us Mexicans are trained to make money from foreigners. It's not always a bad thing at all. It's just what we do. Some do it with restaurants, hotels. Some do it by being "in betweeners," helping gringos navigate our world and charging for it, some do it by selling needed things and some do it by overcharging and being less transparent. Some do it because they are addicts, too. He paused on that one.
He went on.
This guy you are talking about, he is worse than the the other one who took your 2000 pesos. Because he looks so good. And that's the thing, he added: the really good ones will morph to look and act the way the foreigners feel most comfortable with. Again, I know how this works.
Just be careful, he said again.
Listen, I don't want to piss off my neighbors, I said to him. And I need water. And man, this is not easy. Feeling a bit vulnerable, there in my pink robe with not much underneath it, I shared with him that as he knew, I was the only white woman out there. There was much I didn't know. I was learning as fast as I could and again ... man, this is not easy.
I know he said. And as if this was going to make me feel better, he added: They are going to eat you.
Seeing my face freeze, he added: not for real. As an image, I mean.
Yes, I had gotten that. I wasn't thinking quite cannibalism. Still. Powerful image.
So, what do I do?
You get strong, he tells me. You let them know you're the boss. You don't get intimidated and you keep going.
And then, just as I thought I had a clear plan - and a mentor - he adds: and you keep getting water from me and we go halfsies.
I had forgotten that my crew had indeed be getting our water from Alberto, for the past couple of weeks. A super long hose running from his property to mine across the dusty field, he had allowed us to fill our tenaco several times. Quietly, without mentioning it to me in the evenings in the village, and without charging us. That was nice of him, and now he was talking about making it official.
Did that make him "one of them?" I guess so. Was being open about it making it better? I think so.
You can split it with me, he tells me. I paid 2000 pesos and you can pay half of that, get a hose hooked up to mine and we both have water forever. Done.
1000 pesos is better than 2,500 pesos, says my mind. Shortly followed by dang, how am I going to tell Juliano?
Ok, let me think about it and I'll see you over there, was the best I could come up with, ready to start watering again, relishing that nice, abundant city water flowing out of my hose.
Sounds good, he said. And hey, it's all going to be okay, he added.
As he walked into the street, a question popped in my head: Alberto, where do YOU get your water?
From the guy who took your 2000 pesos was the answer.
Oooo —- yesterday was fun.
Lila and I walked to the house (it is beginning to feel this way) and I dropped off the money Jorge needed to buy the ceiling bricks. It was just him and Anselmo and he told me the rest of the crew would show up later. As well as, hopefully, the big bad beautiful maquina.
We then back walked home and I started painting and getting organized on some backed-up projects.
Around 2:00, I texted Jorge to see how things were going and if they needed anything to eat or drink.
They did not but he casually mentioned that “the senor from the electric commission came by.” What??? He came and I wasn’t there? He came and what did he say? And finally: he really, really came? On a Monday? Within the time period they said he would? Wow. Of course I wanted to know everything so I said I would be on my way over there soon. Within minutes he texted back to let me know that the maquina had arrived.
Without even removing my painting apron, I drove over.
The maquina was already at work, scooping huge mounds of the dirt that had been taken from the fosa, the water cistern, and the foundation and was carrying them up in the air, then dumping them inside the house, above the walls, and from the outside.
That was one of the funnest things I have seen. The MESS of it! The BIGNESS of it! The irreverence, too. Like nothing mattered, no rules, no boulders too big to drive over, nothing seemed impossible. I was in awe every time another load made it over the wall. Then some of the huge stones got moved out of the way and close to their final place before the impressively skilled gentleman slowly drove away. I saw him later on moving stones around in the river bed. I think we will call him once more at the end to move a few more huge stones. And because heck, I could call him once a month just to see this crazy stuff happen.
That was one big, strong YUM.
The YUK came as I was talking with Anselmo (whose crew never showed up. Something about a lot of weekend activity leaving them not feeling well) and Juliano who lives on the same street, sometimes works on the house, and very much wants to sell me some of his water access. Julio was explaining to me that for 2,500 pesos – which is 500 less than what he quoted me last week – and with me buying a long strong hose, I could use his water “forever.” I am still not 100% clear as to where he gets his water. Must check on that. The jungle, I think.
When I mentioned really wanting to recuperate the 2000 pesos we paid the neighbor who never delivered and clearly said he would not, both Juliano and Anselmo told me to olvidarlo. Forget about it. It was then explained to me that the last time the guy came by and one of them mentioned the money, he got aggressive. Aggressive?? For being asked to provide what he was paid for? Or reimburse us? Yup. That’s right. Both men shrugged and laughed and the subtext, as is often the case here was “it’s Mexico.” Hmmmf. Not happy about that and I hope I will be able to walk past this guy every day and not mention it. We’ll see.
Anyhoo, I agreed to get the water from Julio with his promise that we would not run out. I figure 2,500 pesos is just a little bit over the cost of two “pipas” (truckful of water which can be delivered with an hour’s notice) so if I can get two months’ worth of water from that agreement, it may be worth good neighbors relations. Again, we’ll see.
Water – Check. For now. I guess that’s a bonus YUM.
Now for the other big YUM!
While I did not get to talk with the senor from the Electric Commission, which I really was hoping to do, I am going to trust that it worked out better that way, without my woman/gringa self over there. All locals talking with locals.
I was told that while he was there, he spoke with several of the people around the land, including Julio and the young guy who is building his little casita on the edge of the field, a beautiful spot near the river. He happens to also be my neighbor here, in my rented cabin and he and I are the only ones currently building on the field. Darn it, I can never remember his name though. I need to get better about that.
As walked my butt over to his place, still wearing my painting apron, the energy was high and happy. “The guy came!” they told me. They explained that he told that that they had to go to the office where I went last week and do the same thing I had done: submit a request. I suggested they go very soon (as in today) because I am supposed to go back on the 22nd and receive the decision – and cost. The more of us ask for electricity, the better our chances of getting it, I am thinking. Two of them said they would and then Julio said he would also. We might make this happen!!! They now know we exist 🙂
Once we have electricity I will set my goal on receiving the internet.
Julio also gave me a mini-course on solar power, which is what he has at his house right now, and I am going to go investigate this possibility also. It would be nice to have both options priced and if possible, to eventually get them both because I remember last summer, the electric power went out a few times and that sounds a little intimidating over here. Plus, how magical to power my fridge from the sun!?
Then I went back to the “house” which was now full of dirt and decided to grab a pick or something and join Anselmo in this task of turning the huge mounds of dirt into a flat floor. I think every time I pick up a tool or lift something, it rattles him a little bit. Earlier, we had to move the big heavy metal bars from the ceiling so that the maquina could drive through. When I picked up the end of one of them he looked up at me, not seeming so sure. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said. “I’ll be fine, let’s do it.” We did it and he taught me how to stack them nicely within each other.
Anselmo knows a whole lot and works hard. I understand more and more why they call him “maestro” and I have a lot of respect for his work. So when I picked up the big tool (I’m still not sure what it was) and headed to the big dirt pile telling him “I’m going to clean my bedroom, now,” he sighed, smiled, and said: “Me, I’m going to clean the bathroom.” When he picked up his phone a few minutes later, I was afraid he was calling Jorge to have him pick me up. But no, he was taking a photo of me.
With all the talking/thinking about electricity, it somehow eluded me until now that hey! these guys are building the house without electricity! No nail guns, no skill saw, no nothing. No sounds in fact, other than the birds, the roosters, and the music from the chargeable speaker we bought.
That’s pretty awesome cool, really. Hands and backs and resources.
As I arrived over there this morning to bring Jorge money for the bricks, Anselmo was throwing water on a beautifully round mix of sand and gravel. It looked like a cake in the making. Or crepes. The moment when one breaks an egg into the perfect mound of flour before mixing it all in. I have done this many times and I can see that Anselmo might have done this even more times.
Baking cakes. Making houses. With hands and love.
The “house” looking all official with its big cardboard new “address,” the next four days were super productive. I am amazed at how much the men are creating, and with no electricity.
Walls went up (we went one extra layer of blocks for a bit more height), inside walls, of which there are very few) also. Windows appeared, one of them with its rounded top, held by uncemented brick to be punched out later, I am guess. I’d like to be there when the punching happens. Heck, I’d like to do the punching.
I am told we need to bring the maquina back to bring the excavated dirt back in and aslo to move the 5 big huge stones that came out of the ground to their destination.
We decided to add a row of terra cotta blocks to the top of the living room and bathroom walls for both light and ventilation and then I got to choose the few glass blocks that will go in the bathroom wall for light.
I still don’t see exactly the way the bathroom connects to it all but I think it will be clear this week.
I had lunch with the crew a few days ago and it was super fun and also a little awkward. They speak fast and I am still a woman and still white. But I am showing up and letting my discomfort and ego do whatever it needs. I am paying attention to what we are creating together and mostly staying away from the stories my mind wants to tell me, the main one being: “what the heck do you think you are doing?”
Truth is, this is intoxicating. This creation process.
This week we will be ordering the bricks for the ceiling (I saw two of them as a sample and they are beautiful. I am still baffled that these go on ceilings. All kinds of what-happens-if want to talk to me) and the interior walls will get plastered and stuccoed. Which is funny to me since we don’t have floors nor a roof. But Jorge explained to me that this is the time to do it, before the bricked ceiling goes up so that we don’t mess it up. Got it.
Here’s to a new week! AND TO GETTING A SUPER AFFORDABLE YES ON THE ELECTRICITY QUESTION!