news of the peace
It’s incredible that we can get on the Net here at all, so I can’t really complain about the limitations of our link (repeater won’t talk to my iBook, for some reason, so I have to sit right next to the satellite dish on top of Eberhard’s house. As this is a beautiful roof terrace with comfy chairs, a palapa for shade and a stunning view across Bahia La Paz, it’s a sacrifice I am willing to make.) Anyway, the real limitation is time, and I am taking advantage of a rare moment during which the girls are simultaneously napping (except that I think Julia has already woken up.) Blogging is a luxury and I appreciate it.
R: I have shared my views on Baja with the blogosphere!
Jonathan: Oh my God.
R: I’ve been here all of 48 hours. I should hire myself out as a consultant.
Jonathan (a consultant): Now you’re talking.
More news from La Paz, the city of peace: a chicken walking across the street downtown; an ugly tangle of power lines that would not disgrace San Francisco; SI VENDE signs everywhere; mangy, starry-eyed stray dogs waiting politely for the children to drop their food; fish tacos of a deliciousness that would make a gastronomically-inclined angel weep with delight. Dove-grey clouds have drawn a discreet veil over the relentless sun. Did I say that the Sea of Cortez is opal? It’s not, it’s more like blue topaz, lit from within.
Eberhard has loaned us his 1988 VW Fox, which I promptly christened Faustus (because he’s the fastest.)
Eberhard: How do you love my car?
R: I love him completely.
Today we drove out to the Playa Tecolote, a lonely Corona-ad beach facing the Isla Espiritu Santu with its red rock formations and sealion colony. There was a restaurant with a vaulted palapa roof, where we were sheltered from a boisterous wind. The ceviche was tart and juicy. People here seem to love children; even the waitrons are all smiles as the girls hurl tortillas y camarones to the floor.
Holidays are very different when you have kids. I can’t say I miss the before-time, because I never really miss it: I was unmedicated then, and desperately unhappy most of the time. But the work involved with children is endless – feeding them, washing them, washing their dishes, washing their clothes, changing them, playing with them, making sure they don’t drown or impale themselves or hurl themselves from great heights, answering their increasingly bewildering questions, tiring them out, getting them to sleep. And in case I haven’t made this perfectly clear, I am a very lazy woman. The big advantage of being here is that food, laundry, play and sleep are all within about thirty feet of each other, so we’re enjoying the change of scenery, and not having to walk quite as far.
But oh, the bewildering questions! Claire floored me yesterday.
C: Will the policemen in Mexico not kill us? Like the policemen in San Francisco want to kill us?
R: Whoa! Whoa. Whoa, back up a little. Jesus! Where did that come from?
J (peacefully): I’m guessing this is why people decide to homeschool.
