This is not a straight road. I guess few things are. There is much excitement, creativity, disbelief too at the whole thing, in a really joyous way. And then there is fear. Of course. Yesterday morning, bearing a liter of Coca Cola, I arrived to the site and noticed that we still didn’t have a water hose. The Gentleman Who Sleeps Late (and ignores me) was not able to provide the water he promised, I was told. Nor to return the 2000 pesos we paid him in advance. He asked Jorge for two weeks to give him our money back, which is not a great sign. We talked about getting a Tenaco (water reservoir that lives on the roof) sooner than expected in order to have plenty of water around. Anselmo has a lead on a good price for one of these. Juliano who has been working this week and happens to have a house very close offered to make a permanent arrangement by which I could use his water. By the time I left for the day, work was actively underway with Juliano and Jorge tossing heavy blocks at each other and laughing. I returned in the late afternoon after everyone had left and saw that the bedroom and bathroom foundation had been happily grown throughout the day and that we somehow had a hose coming from another neighbor’s place. Good stuff. Pretty soon Irvin (Jose Luis’ son) joined me over there to talk about the new bank account to which I was supposed to make the monthly payments and also the electricity situation. It was my first time seeing him since his dad’s death and I could feel a change in him, something about going at it on his own and taking it seriously. I think he is in his 20s. Well, whereas even the day before he had assured me that we could run a cable from his dad’s property, suddenly it was no longer the case. Reasons were given and while I understood most of them, I intuitively got that words were not going to matter much, nor conversations such as “but, you told me that ____.” Nope. This called for a pivot, and the easier I would pivot, the more flow would come my way. We then talked about water and I mentioned that Julio had offered to share his supply with me. To this, Irvin answered that Juliano did not have much himself as he had been using his for the last three days! Not much surprises me anymore and I am pretty sure I am going to choose to go with a reliable water delivery truck when the time comes. Keep it simple. So as Irvin got ready to leave, I said thank you, it will work out, I am sure. Lila and I stayed there a bit and soaked up the late-day energy. It was quiet, a neighbor down the street burning some leaves or garbage. Completely different energy from the liveliness of the village which I love dearly. Suddenly, I was feeling pre nostalgic for the bustle, the music. Then I freaked myself out a little bit, wondering if I was making a mistake. Would I like living here? Would I feel lonely? Would I be scared? Until more people build on their land (assuming that a lot of the parcels are actually sold) mine will most likely be the only house in that big field. And if all goes well, my house will be the nicest one by far. How will that go? Getting back in the car, the electricity conversation came back to my mind – along with a quiet communication with Life, a knowing that we would somehow make it work. As we crossed the third bend in the river, the one that has water even now as it hasn’t rained in a long time, another car was coming towards us and I recognized a gentleman I met last summer. We stopped and started chatting mid-river, surprised to learn that his family and I were kind of neighbors. He told me that he knew someone in “the commission” and that we would talk about how to get me electricity, that there would be a way. I shook my head and smiled as we got back. Somehow this WOULD work out. I just don’t know how yet. Also, I am still in communication with the man I met a couple of weeks ago who seemed officially, professionally electricity-like 🙂 Meanwhile, I am going to soak up the busyness of the village and know that while I know the gifts I am leaving, there are many yet to unwrap. I celebrated by having a chicken pesto crepe.
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AuthorI'm white. Archives
August 2022
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