The Mystery of the Monstrous Manhole
The house sits on a relatively quiet street...at least by Merida Centro standards. By quiet street I mean it is one-way as most streets in Centro are, we have no bus traffic in front of the house, and there is a 90 degree turn just about 100 meters up the block so it slows most cars down and keep large trucks from using the street...most of the time. When we bought the house, the "quiet street" part was a big factor. But, we hadn't counted on the huge manhole some 20 meters up the street from us. The manhole with the big steel cover has no rubber gaskets inside to absorb the noise when cars hit it. And, we are quite sure it doesn't sit flush with the street as every time a car hits it there is a pretty loud, jarring sound. It's a sound we can't quite get used to.
But, here's the good part - Parking on our street is allowed on one side of the street. If all of our good neighbors would follow the rules of not parking where there is a yellow line, all would be good all the time and cars would travel off to one side of the noisy manhole and we would never hear a thing. Directly to the side of the manhole are our good amigos the two mecanicos. They help us out a lot by parking an old truck with the hood open directly parallel to the manhole, making sure they ooch out
in the street just enough to forcej cars off to the side of the manhole. Gracias nosotros amigos...The downside is that during Catholic mass (which is often) the parishoners get a "pass" and park in the no parking zone and BAM! BAM! goes the manhole. Also, city offices are located next door. They make great neighbors as they are quiet and all leave around 4pm each weekday so we have no next door neighbors at night around us. But being city workers they get a pass from the "no parking" as well. And wouldn't you know it---they had a little white car that was left in the no parking zone untouched for several weeks, which meant every car hit the manhole no matter how the mecanicos arranged the cars they were repairing. Just this past week, city worker got in the little white car and Terry and I watched out the window silently praying it would start and they would move it. The angels were with us and it now sits directly under the front bedroom window.
But, as Terry always reminds me smiling - it's parte de vida!
Leche, helados, jugo/licuados, pan, tamales, buy, buy, buy or your saw sharpened
Horns....everybody has a horn. I have read where street vendors are decreasing in numbers. I guess this applies to all of Merida Centro, but I'm pretty sure many of them are just re-locating to our neighborhood. I am totally intrigued by them, and if I was wealthy I would hand out pesos to everybody up and down the street to buy from them. I don't won't them to ever go away. We still have the bicycle guy with the refrigerated unit he pulls behind him that comes down our street with the horn sound you can't mistake for anything else. His horn is the "Moo, Moo, Moo" of a cow. And, it sounds just like a cow.
Then there are several guys that come down the street at various time of the day with their carts, and sometimes ride bicycles, selling ice cream and other frozen concoctions. There horns all sound alike and are pretty much the "ding, ding, ding" of a small bell ...it's the sound you would imagine and ice cream vendor should have.
There are the juice and licuado vendors and I think they are the silent ones. I can't remember if they have a sound.
There are the bread vendors that all ride cargo bikes and they set their covered containers of bread and pastries in front of them. Their horns are fairly loud and more like those little horns that you squeeze the bulb and they go "honk, honk". Most of them come by late in the evening and they make me think they are selling the bread that will be "day old" tomorrow. We have bought from them on occasion, but I don't really have a favorite vendor that I feel a connection with.
Now for the best one. There is a very small in stature elderly Mayan woman and her small in stature husband, I presume, that come down the street frequently. They sell tamales out of a very large kettle-type pot. The little lady looks like she could barely speak beyond a whisper. She is always traditionally dressed in a white Huipile. The woman is always walking down one side of the street in a very straightforward way, with her husband on the opposite side of the street pushing the cart with the tamales. This tiny woman has a voice that sends shivers down your spine. We can hear them coming from several blocks away...I kid you not. In fact, we heard them coming down the street this morning so I ran to the front of the house just to watch. I am intrigued! Right when I got to the window, she yelled "TAMAAAALEEES"at the top of her lungs and it literally scared me to the point of making me jump. This tiny woman has a set of lungs that I seriously can't describe to you....it's amazing. If she wasn't selling tamales she could be an opera singer I truly believe.
Throw in the trucks, bicycles, cars, and walkers that have loudspeakers....they scoot around Centro and expain where to go to buy what, where there are special deals on pizzas, etc., etc.
The other one that may be my favorite, or maybe the close second to the tamale lady are the saw sharpening guys. They also have a consistent sound, ride bicylces, and carry their tools for sharpening along with them. When Carlos and Geronimo were here sawing on the aluminum for the doors, I heard the saw sharpener on the street. I so wished they needed their saw sharpened just to give the man some business. The saw sharpener sound is very distinct is is a long whistle that changes octaves from the beginning of the whistle to the end. And, you hear it a long way off.
I love that we still have an abundance of street vendors with horns. Love it!
The Sounds of Merida are such a Parte de Vida!
Mopping 101
Growing up I had to clean my room and help in the kitchen. I also remember folding up clothes. But, Mama never taught me how to mop. Having tile floors and living close to the street means any little dab of water on the floor makes for a mixture of black dust and water on the floor. We have deemed these footprints "tar babies" because it seems like when you mop up one "tar baby" there are 4-5 more that take its place. Invariably, while mopping I back myself in the corner and when I walk through the freshly-mopped area I leave a trail of tar babies. This morning I mopped the living/dining room and the kitchen. Then I decided I may as well sweep and mop the front porch. Well, by the time I got through hauling my bucket from the front porch to the kitchen a couple of times, I had tar babies all along the path...right in the area I had already mopped. Just wish I would've taken Mopping 101 somewhere along the way!
Parte de Vida!
Grab the Broom and Knock Yourself Out
Last year I wrote a blog that mentioned I had blisters on my hands from sweeping the floors in the rental house. I had blisters because I went from living on the boat to renting a house. I went from using a little whisk broom used to sweep the boat to a house on a dusty street with lots of tile. Now fast forward and I can tell you this year those blisters are gone and they are replaced by callouses. Callouses from sweeping. If I get frustrated about something, I can always pick up the broom and sweep up a pretty good pile of dust. If I need some time to think, I can pick up the broom and sweep a pile. I can sweep in the morning, I can sweep at noon, I can sweep at midday, and I can sweep at dusk....anytime I sweep I can get a pile of dust. I can sweep and turn around and sweep again and get a pile of dust!
It may just be a "Southern thing", like commenting on weather conditions to the person behind you in line at the grocery store, but in the south when you go to somebody's house for a visit the standard phrase is always "What can I do to help?" The standard answer is generally "Oh, nothing. I have it pretty well under control." At most, you may be asked to put ice in the glasses or set the table. Well, I told Terry I can't wait for somebody to come visit at Casa Kahanek and ask me what they can do to help. I already know what they can do! They can sweep!!!! Knock yourself out!!!
Living where we do, we love keeping our windows and (now) screen doors open to the outside. You see and acknowledge the neighbors, you hear the horns, children, birds and other sounds. The sounds are truly part of the day to day experience. If we were behind closed doors and windows we would miss so much. But, there is a downside.....where is that broom....I need to sweep up this dust!
As Terry says: It's Parte de Vida!
