-Ride a horse bareback
-Milk a cow (very poorly, how embarrassing!)
-Wake up to the sound of roosters crowing (rarely pleasant, but new nonetheless!)
-Sit on a bull
-Make tortillas by hand
-Watch chickens be killed (and later eat them)
-Wash my clothes on a washboard
-Swim in a lovely river
-Learn the art of marmollina sculpture
-Eat atol, a delicious creamy mixture of pureed corn, sugar, cinnamon, milk and a pinch of salt
-Sleep in a hammock
-Paint a mural
-Teach in Spanish
-Reflect in a beautiful cemetery
-Hear the sound of little voices scream, "Gringa, gringa!" when they happily saw me approaching their house with my camera. Patrick, their host brother, was their beloved "Gringo". I was shocked on the last day when Itzamar called me by my first name. I had no idea she knew what it was.
...and the list goes on. I had a great time in Limay and I could have stayed there for much longer than our ten days. I loved the pace of life and the people that I met there. The marmollina studio was easily my favorite place and my host family was lovely. I felt very at home staying in their house and I communicated with them to the best of my ability. Somehow we managed to convey our shared frustrations with immigration and healthcare in the United States among other things. I guess parallel political and social views transcend language barriers just like art. I hope to go back to Limay to continue my personal work. I grew up in a small neighborhood where everyone knew everyone's business, so I smiled quietly when I wasn't sure where my host mother was and Wilfredo told me she was visiting her father. How did he know that?! Or on the other hand, how would he NOT know that?! Small towns with great people, gotta love 'em.
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