Confessions of a former anti-vaxxer

The first half of my life I was anti-vaccines.

My father decided for our family that he would not vaccinate his kids. He was an educated and caring man, he was biochemist and worked with vaccine production himself.

He had his reasons. 

He passed away from Dengue fever when I was 5 years old (36 years ago to this day). So, I never had a chance to talk to him about his reasons. All I had was his choice for me, that affected me, physically and ideologically, even after his death.
His death affected me. In the obvious ways, of course, but also in ways that have made me the curious and disease obsessed adult that I am. I find viruses, parasites, bacteria, cell mutations, genetic diseases, both fascinating and terrifying. I can't look away, I want to know everything. I regularly listen to several science/disease podcasts, read books and science journals, ask endless and annoying questions to any medical professional that will give me a moment. In addition I am pretty up on conspiracy theories, partially due to my belief as a young child that Dengue was a man made disease that was released by the US government in some sort of biological warfare in central and south America. I don't know where I heard this at the young age of 7 or 8. But, it stuck.
I needed to blame someone, something, anything but the chaos of loss. It was scarier not to have some scary government villain to blame.
I also learned of the forced sterilization of Indigenous communities, about the medical experimentation done on African Americans in Tuskegee and on Jewish people in the holocaust. I had a healthy fear of "they" and did not want to be subject to "their" evil. 
And, don't get me wrong, I know that there are evil government powers. But, now I also know that all diseases are studied in labs, otherwise we would never know how they work and how to treat or cure them. That a lab with diseased mosquitos is not inherently evil. Two things can exist at once.

I remained a staunch believer that vaccines were not necessary and that there was no way that my father could be wrong. If I questioned his beliefs, then I would be disrespecting his memory. I didn't really have a reason beyond his reasoning, and I didn't really know what his reasoning was.
We spent much of my childhood school years using religious exemption as the reason we were not vaccinated. We are not religious. But I held onto my "right" not to be vaccinated with a religious fervor that could not be challenged.

My mom was younger than my dad, she was not college educated, she was brought up in a time when a women's opinion was secondary to any man's. She went with his strong and educated opinion regarding vaccines. We often used natural remedies before going to the doctor, which often worked. Except when they didn't, then we went to get those antibiotics, or pain killers, or x-rays, etc.. She did her best (which was better than most) and is the rock of our family. She hardly had time to worry about some antiquated diseases affecting her healthy kids, when trying to make sure we had resources to survive.
She and my dad decided to live a life outside of the norm, far in the jungles of Mexico. Then he died. Everything changed, and we were now part of the public school system, getting government assistance, no longer just in our own little family, but more actively part of a community.

Health is public. We do not exist in a vacuum. This is what I did not understand until I started working at health center at 19 yrs old. When I was asked about my vaccine status and I proudly said "not a one!". This got a side-eye response that I was used to. I think "of course this nurse is judging me, she is so mainstream, she doesn't know the real truth", never mind her having given her whole self to taking care of this community for the last 20 years. Then I talk to my trusted doctor who was a naturopathic physicians assistant, and a colleague at this health center. Thinking "of course he'll understand". He was less side-eye-ee but still not impressed, instead he said "have you considered that you could be a carrier of a disease and put one of these patients a risk?" in other words, I could kill a new born, an elder, an immunocompromised member of our community. People I was charged with caring for.
No, I had NEVER considered that. It was always about me, and my safety and my beliefs. The privilege of being healthy and not considering my community washed over me in a wave of shame. It seemed so obvious, but literally no one had ever framed it that way for me.
He gave me a couple resources and ideas of articles to read. He understood that I was curious and would want to understand how vaccines work and how they have affected our population over the years. We then had a conversation about which vaccines I should have to keep our patients safe. 
After some time, reading and more conversations I decided it was the right thing to do. I got all the recommended vaccines.

I had gone against the wishes of my father. And, instead of feeling like he would be disappointed, I felt he would be proud. I can imagine he would have wanted me to be someone that has my own curiosity and comes to my own educated conclusions. I like to believe that he would be happy I cared about others enough to challenge my own strict belief. 

Some important people in my life are not vaccinated for Covid-19. It has been difficult at times. I had hoped they would see that it was safe and that it could stop further mutations into dominant variants. I argue science and public health with them. I also know they care about people, they do not deny this virus is deadly, they take precautions not to spread it to others. That has to be enough for me. I used to be one of them, probably even more adamantly opposed than they are.
Again, two things can exist at once. You can be hesitant about vaccines and also know that this virus can be deadly or cause long-term illness.

My father had his reasons and I have mine. I wish I could ask him what his were. If he were alive we could have a discussion about our difference of opinion. He might try to convince me, and I him. At the end of the day I'd like to think that we would still respect each other's reasons. Because, two things can exist at once.

Adventures of a (Quarantined) Technical Mexican - The One About The Pandemic

Well, it sure has been a while. I guess it takes a pandemic to get me back on this blogging platform.
I wanted to write this as an update to whats going on here in Mexico and with me personally.
As the world knows, Covid-19 has taken over our thoughts, airwaves and many bodies.
This is an experience that is new to us all. We all wonder how long it will last, what we are really supposed to do, what does this mean for our heath, relationships, jobs and the world economy.
I am no authority, but I can tell you what it means to me.
Fortunately I work for a company that is entirely remote and provides a necessary service. However, we work with elderly people needing long-term care (Home Care, Assisted Living, Nursing Homes) to be paid for through Medicaid. Now, this will not stop all together, but we are already seeing issues with facilities not taking new patients for months to come and some county Medicaid offices being (even more than normal) overwhelmed to the point of a standstill.
As of this moment, we still have lots of work to do and will keep doing it as long as possible.
Puerto Vallarta is an interesting place to be right now. We have a huge population of retired Canadians and United Statesians (I refuse to use the term Americans as that includes all of the Americas) as well as many traveling foreigners from across the world. We have a huge influx of cruise ships here all through the high season as well.
We get so many visitors from San Francisco and Seattle, where there has been a large number of confirmed cases of Covid-19.
As of today they are still saying no confirmed cases in Vallarta, which feels like a bit of a false sense of security. There are 203 confirmed cases in Mexico.
The culture here is very social, very physical and very distrusting of the government. These things combined with the fact that most people truly live day to day and have to work to survive (there will be little to no help for most from the government, if they ever decide this is a serious situation) makes for a very difficult transition to self quarantine.
The federal government is not taking action as I see it necessary and the president is flailing around almost more than Trump.
Luckily our governor of the state of Jalisco has taken decisive action and is very serious about curbing this potential health disaster. And disaster it will be. If you think that the public health system in the USA is unprepared, that is nothing in comparison to Mexico. I am truly frightened for the people who this will most affect, the poor and elderly of this country. The people who go out into the streets to sell candies and trinkets, the elderly people who bag groceries for tips to supplement their meager pensions, the people who work and live in the dumps. I hope that when the time comes I can be of some service to this population of people that are so left behind by the system.
That brings me to my situation currently.
I have been extremely careful since this all became a situation in San Francisco as I have ties there and also know how many people visit Vallarta from there. Also my history of working in health centers and hospitals prepared me for the sanitation measures needed.
Hand washing, sanitizer, no buses, no ubers, not much outside contact with people, stocking up on groceries slowly, washing said groceries as they came into the house, wearing certain clothes outside and hanging them by the door, cleaning the house, using bleach and lysol and all the chemicals I never buy, more hand washing, boosting immunity with healthy food, very little drinking, less pot smoking, more pilates, breathing exercises, allllll the things.
Tuesday night I had a bit of a headache, but it was mild and figured I was just stressed and been working too hard. We had our show that night and I went knowing it would be the last I would be doing. I was extra careful, no physical contact, wiping down my station before and after using it, little bottle of hand sanitizer with me at all times, a shot of tequila to kill throat germs (kidding, I know it doesn't work that way).
Wednesday I started feeling a bit of a scratchy throat and still had the slight headache. I figured maybe it was the tequila or just not sleeping well. I finished the last of my errands to be able to shelter in place for while, as well as worked a long day. I felt pretty tired and went to bed early.
Thursday I went to deliver stuff to the boat to Yelapa for my mom and brother who are self isolating on the mountain (not too different than regular life out there). By the time I got home I felt exhausted. I had a busy work day with a lot of meetings and stuff that needed a pretty high level of concentration. When I finished at 6:30pm I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. Still with the scratchy throat and headache, but now adding body aches to the fatigue and a low grade fever of 99.1/37.3. I drank some Theraflu and went to sleep at 8pm.
Friday morning I woke up feeling like the truck that hit me, backed up over me a couple times. All the same symptoms as before. But no cough, no mucus, no swollen throat, none of the usual cold or flu symptoms we all know and hate.
I was able to speak with a doctor on the phone, he was very nice and said that many people will think they have the Covid-19 virus, but unless I've traveled recently or been in direct contact with a confirmed case there would be no testing. I did let him know I have (controlled) high blood pressure as well as mild asthma. I also explained that I know when it is necessary to go the ER and when it is not.
He said I probably have a flu, and if my breathing gets bad then we would reassess if it was the famed virus.
Now, I understand that there are not enough tests, I also understand that many people are panicking and thinking they have this thing when they have allergies or a hangover or whatever. But I am not that person. This is not like any flu or cold I've ever experienced.
I also know that most diagnostics are a process of elimination. You test for certain things and if they don't have that thing, you test for a different thing. In this case, testing for different strains of flu would seem like the best course of action. I'm not saying I want to go out into the world to do this, it just seems like continuing to say there are no confirmed cases in Vallarta cannot be confirmed. I also want to make it very clear, I in no way think the doctor or people dealing with this situation are doing anything wrong, I know they are doing all they can with what they are provided and within the guidelines they are given.
I am also a very socially responsible cautious person. I err on the side of caution even in the most banal of situations. I will not leave my house now for 2 weeks, regardless of what I have been told I have. But, if I was a different kind of person, and was told I just have a flu, it seems likely that as soon as I felt a little better I would be out and about. Or even, be out and about now. I already was out and about before feeling sick and felt it the right thing to warn my cast mates and the other people I had been in touch with, that I was sick.
Today is Saturday. I feel like total crud. I am so tired, dizzy, headachy and it feels like I smoked a pack of cigarettes in the last hour. Still no coughing, still no high fever (I am preemptively taking meds), my breathing is normal. I have lots of healthy food, appropriate meds, neighbors checking on me, and the best sick-bedmate in the world (see pic below). I want to say I hope it is the flu, but in a way I hope it is the Covid-19 virus so I can get this damn thing over with...but that wouldn't matter anyway cause I will not be tested as to be able to know.
What I do know is I will not be able to see my family and friends for a while, I will not know if I have immunity so it may not be safe for me to help at hospitals when this thing explodes here.
I feel frustrated with world leaders, this is not a surprise, this has been known to be coming for a long time. What I can only hope is that the lesson is learned from all of this. We must have a global public health security plan in place. We must all be on the same page. We must heed the warnings when they are given to us, because next time it may well be much worse, more easily communicable, a longer incubation while being communicable, more rapidly moving across the world and more deadly to a larger demographic of people.
Be safe my friends, and for the love of Cheesus the lord of Lactose stay home if at all possible.

A letter of farewell from the los Sueños family.

It is time to tell you my dear friends, guests, supporters of all kinds, that casa de los Sueños will be closing it's...gates (we don't have doors really) at the end of this month, April 2017.
It has been a wonderful and life changing experience running this beautiful, historical, and at times very challenging, jungle hotel.
We took over the business 5 years ago in March, not having one clue what we were really getting ourselves into. A real "fake it til you make it" journey. Now, as much as we feel we have "made it", we have been forced to make a change, and in that we have decided it is the right thing to do for us.
We have had the honor of hosting many retreats, family gatherings, friend reunions, engagements, weddings, honeymoons, babymoons, and every other kind of vacation or trip imaginable. Each of those have been a part in this crazy dream and we cannot thank all of you enough for your patronage. You are what makes all this hard work worth it; when a couple sits in the garden leaning in closely, talking, laughing and being able to just be in love without distraction, beside pausing while the the parrots swooping over head chatter loudly; when a family comes back from the beach, sunburnt and tired, parents a bit tipsy on margaritas, kids exhausted from playing in the waves, everyone relaxed and happy; when a year of planning culminates in a wedding day where everything falls into place, the guests arrive in awe of the beauty, the couple says their vows in the evening sun, then the lights blink on as the dusk comes, the party begins, and lifetime memories are made; when a widower comes with a group of yogis and tells you this experience changed his whole outlook, that being in the jungle for a week made him see life keeps going no matter how much we might try to make it stop or go backwards; when you tell a guest they won't be able to come back next year because we are closing and they hug you, wish you well and say "change is always good, but transition is hard"; these are the moments and human experiences that remind us why we battle back the jungle to make gardens, scrub the mold off the walls at the end of every rainy season, schlep the groceries in a cab, in a boat, in a wheel barrow, and up the hill, why we work so hard to make this place an oasis of calm and beauty in this crazy world.
All of those moments will be coming with us, all of our experience of success and of strife in this endeavor has been an education, all of the future possibilities we imagined happening at los Sueños will be transferred to new dreams and projects.
Yelapa will continue to be our home always, there are so many lovely places to stay here and so many wonderful hosts, we are always here to give you advice and insight on a trip to this wonderfully special, little cove south of Puerto Vallarta.
If you always planned to, but were never able to visit los Sueños, or made it a yearly tradition, please don't let this stop you from visiting Yelapa or dropping us a line, we'll be here scheming about our next plan and loving Yelapa as much as ever.
So thank you to all our friends, guests, employees, neighbors, and the community of Yelapa for being part of this wild ride we called Casa de los Sueños, may the dream continue to flourish.
Onward and upward!

My two abortions. #shoutyourabortion

This blog is connected to my business website. Everything I do in my personal life, I do proudly and do not hide, everything I do in my business, is colored by my own ethics and who I am. I cannot, and will not, separate them.
I realize that this forum is mine to use as I wish, but I also have held back in the past. I didn't wish to offend, to alienate, and frankly...to lose clients.
But that has to change. If I do not speak out then I will be doing a disservice to myself, my community, and womankind in general.
In light of the current political state of the United States of America, I have realized the importance of not sitting idle, or staying silent, the importance of sharing our stories.
I have written and erased this blog many times. It is a deeply personal experience. It is an experience that so many share. So here is my experience.
When I was 24 I moved to Yelapa Mexico, from San Francisco California with my best friend. I was thinking I'd get a job, fix up a little casa, maybe meet a guy. It was a care-free time of my life, but also a very wild and uncertain time.
It all began well, I got a job, fixed up a little casa, and met a guy. We were having a great time.
A couple months in I realized I was pregnant. I had used protection, it did not work. The relationship also did not work, things had gotten bad and I was extremely upset. For just a moment I recklessly thought, what would happen if I just had this kid? Maybe things would work out with me and the guy. Maybe my measly pay would get me through if it didn't. Maybe...it would absolutely fucking ruin my life!
I knew very quickly that I had to return to the states and terminate the pregnancy. I was broke, and I had no return ticket. I called my mom and told her I needed her to help me get back. She didn't ask why, she put it on her credit card, and she got me back to California.
I had arranged for an appointment at Planned Parenthood (where I had been getting my paps and birth control since I was 17).  I arranged for my good friend to take me. The day before my mom asked me if I was pregnant, moms know these things. I felt ashamed that I didn't successfully avoid it, that I had to ask for her help, that I was slinking back home with my tail between my legs. But I felt no shame or remorse about the procedure scheduled for the next morning. I only felt relief. And no person in my life, including my mother, made me feel anything but supported. I was extremely lucky and privileged in this.
The worst part about the whole day, was having to wait in the office, the procedure was easy and smooth (later classified "like butter") and I was treated with nothing but the utmost kindness and respect. Thanks to the doctors and staff that risk their actual lives to provide that safety for us.
A couple months later, I moved back to San Francisco, I ended up working as a photographer, doing burlesque, learning to swing dance, making amazing art, curating and producing shows, and gaining a whole group of awesome friends, I had a full and wonderful life of freedom, living in one of the most amazing cities in the world. That all, because of my rights, that someone fought for.
Almost a decade later I, once again, moved back to Yelapa. Now a very different person and for very different reasons. I began to run a large property with rentals, it was a huge undertaking. After 2 years of running the business and just getting the hang of it, getting out of an abusive relationship, and reconnecting with my old flame from 2004, I found myself pregnant again. I was on birth control, I had not gotten pregnant once in my decade in San Francisco, go figure. I was, once again, very sure that I was not ready to become a parent. This time I was able to buy my own ticket, and had wonderful girl friends to stay with in SF, to come with me to my appointment, I planned to visit family after and then return to Mexico and work in a week. It was to be an "abortion vacation", all was set!
3 days before my departure I started heavy bleeding and debilitating cramps, I was still in Yelapa, I was scared, and not sure what I should do. I called Planned Parenthood and they talked me down, gave me really good info of what to watch out for, and told me just to keep my appointment. I was having a "spontaneous abortion" which is the technical term for a miscarriage, which apparently happens all the time without women even knowing they are pregnant.
So still in a lot of pain and feeling very weak I got on a boat, got on a plane, took the train to my friends house, and relieved went my appointment the next day.
When we arrived, we saw protesters out front. It actually didn't dawn on me until I saw their large photos of mutilated bloody fetuses, that they were pro-life protesters. I could not believe it. This is the Mission district, in San Francisco California, in 2014!
Do these people have no lives? Do they really think they are going to deter people? Do they realize that their photos are totally inaccurate? Do they have a reason to be playing Bing Crosby christmas music? These were my immediate thoughts.
As I walked by, ignoring them, a woman approached me, close enough to touch me, and told me "You have other choices", I responded "You don't know what the fuck is going on with me! I happen to currently be miscarrying!" she then advised me that Planned Parenthood wasn't a real doctors office. Instead of further engaging, I just turned around and walked in.
The poor receptionist apologized and I told her it's fine, they don't phase me, it's like a crazy drugged-out person yelling at you on the bus.
But as I saw each girl come in, many young, alone, looking very distraught, I remembered my privilege, my luck of amazing support, my absolute surety that I did not want to become a parent at that time. These girls might not have that surety, they may be being pressured by family to continue with a pregnancy, they may want to be parents but know it isn't the best thing for them or a potential child at that time.
I wanted so badly to tell them it was ok, it was nothing to be ashamed of, they could be parents in the future if they wanted to. But I stayed quiet, had my uterus cleaned out, went back to my friends house, ate ice cream, had some visitors, and felt just fine the next day. Happy, ready to move on and get back to my routine. Which I did, and have, and not with one tiny bit of regret or shame. Until I saw the campaign #shoutyourabortion by "Lady Parts Justice League", people were telling their stories. I felt it was too personal, too controversial, that I would be judged. So even though I personally have no shame around it, I still felt shamed.
Why should I feel shamed by people who do not know me? And if I am judged by those who know me, do I want them in my life? Should I feel more shame because it wasn't that big of a deal for me? Would it be better if I had been wrought with guilt and if it had been a hard decision?
The truth is, I should not, I will not, I do not feel shame. If one wishes to shame me that is their burden to bare, not mine.
I do not disrespect women who wish to be mothers. I think it is something amazing, scientific and magical. To grow a person inside you. To love and nurture that person into adulthood. It is wonderful thing. I crave it at times myself. I am lucky to be an aunt/tia to some incredible offspring. I adore children and they adore me.
But unless a person is ready and wants this, it should not be forced, that in itself is a start to a hard and painful life.
I will not force women to have abortions, no one will force me to have children. It is our right, as women, to decide when we become mothers. You will not take that from us.

Exploring the many layers of Mexico

Click here for the whole Flickr album

Having recently returned from an adventure of visiting the interior of Mexico; Puebla, Cuernavaca, and Mexico city, all I can think about is what a truly beautifully layered country Mexico is.
From it's cities, to it's food, to it's people, amazing me that the layers never cease. There is a feeling of something hidden, secret, achingly painful and elaborately beautiful. Cities built upon other cities, cathedrals built upon pyramid temples, plain building facades hiding exquisite gardens and homes filled with foods of pre-hispanic roots, spiced with flavors of the orient, augmented with meats of animals introduced from far away lands across oceans.
There is a kinetic energy of creativity and movement that never stops in these ancient cities, as if it would fall right apart under your feet, or explode in a rain of volcanic ash, if you don't keep moving. People work so intently, sweeping, selling, story telling through murals, weaving, food, dance, everything they do. People stroll and chat, hawk their wares, sing and dance, and generally bustle in a strangely contradictory relaxed way.
I had the chance to spend a few days in Cholula, Puebla with some of the most lovely artists I've ever had the pleasure of spending time with. Welcomed into their shared living space with all the beautiful traditional hospitality of any good Mexican home. As I arrived late on a rainy night, I was delighted to find they had prepared both pipian and mole sauces, with fresh bolillos (rolls), we drank home made lavender infused Pox, moonshine made with corn and sugar cane (I had arrived with a gift of our own moonshine from the Yelapa area, Raicilla), and was given a cozy room to call my own. The next morning well rested and ready to search out breakfast, I find in the kitchen there is pan dulce, coffee, juice, and eggs being made.
I realized the thing that I thought was special treatment the night before, is just the way it is. It's the way it is in almost every house in Mexico I've been in throughout my whole life. Of what little there may be, offer half, always have something to offer, always have tortillas, bread, beans, coffee, juice, something...and most importantly, always graciously accept what is offered.
These artists work constantly on new projects doing murals in the streets, around every corner is a surprising colorful piece of art. Cholula's walls are covered in murals, many new and vibrant, some peeling off the wall, all unique and equally enticing to the eye. Beautifying their city and at the same time protesting the oppression that is felt by the people of Mexico. Fighting the same fight that ancestors fought, over land, over exploitation, over religious repression, always working to conserve and celebrate indigenous culture.
There are so many levels of different creative pursuits that I had the luck to experience on this trip. After leaving Puebla I arrived Sunday evening in Cuernavaca, Morelos and knowing that Sunday in any plaza in Mexico will be full of life, I went directly there. I happened upon a group of young dancers doing traditional dances of Mexico. These dancers didn't miss a step, even when the heel on the shoe of a girl broke, she continued dancing perfectly, smiling and putting her full heart into it. I saw dances from at least four regions of Mexico, each one with it's own ceremony and significance. Each one danced with the expertise and heart that clearly showed the love and passion they felt for their heritage.
It was a lovely few days of wandering the terraced, verdant, and hilly streets of Cuernavaca, the city of eternal spring, with it's many gardens, amazing food, museums and a people that are clearly proud of their beautiful city, and very happy to share it with visitors.
With the true luck of a journey meant to be, I happened to be staying my last night in Mexico city on the same night the Cracovia 32 swing club has their weekly social dance.
Welcomed into their space where they hold events from swing dancing, to circus school, I stayed the night, met new friends, joined in on their dance class, and finally tired from travel, I went to bed and was lulled to sleep by the big band music drifting upstairs from the dance floor.
My last day before flying home I spent wandering the streets in the area of Coyoacan, drinking coffee, eating pan de muertos, buying mole in the market, soaking up the feeling of being in the blue house of Frida and Diego, somehow feeling as if just being there connected me to the culture and creativity that they cultivated and thrived on in that space.
I felt overwhelming emotion a few times while roaming through the restored rooms of this historic home. I wasn't sure why I felt my chest tighten and my eyes sting with tears when I walked into the kitchen, or when I saw the bed where Frida painted her self portraits, laying there using a mirror she installed in the canopy. It struck me as odd that I would have such emotion for a place, for people, for a time that really had nothing to do with me and my life.
As I sat in the lush and lovely garden where so many people of interest, famous, not so famous, artists, politicians, philosophers and various vagabonds had surely drank morning coffee, shared mescal while lamenting lost loves, strummed guitars, argued opinions, generally celebrated and mourned the complicated human existence, I realized the emotion I felt was not just nostalgia for things past, it was for the experience I had over the last week, it was for the longing I have to continue traveling, creating, loving, and the knowledge that right in that moment, I was one of those people in the lush and lovely garden, and that knowledge reminded me that I have my own garden, my own art, my own companions to argue opinions with, my own complicated and layered history, just as every person in this world does. That feeling is equally wonderful and overwhelming, to know that we are all complicated, connected, perfectly imperfect, layered and many faceted beings.
Mexico is a country that does not let you forget that. On every corner, in every house, in every city, there are unique and distinct traditions, and at the same time, there are traditions that are the same in every place here, one being the hospitality that is a proud part of this place, the hospitality that brought down the great empire of Aztecs who welcomed the conquistadors into their cities, hospitality that eventually integrated all the colonizing cultures into one fascinating, vastly varying, and completely lovely layered country that is Mexico.

Prepa school Artist at Los Sueños

On Wednesday night we had the honor of hosting the art class from the Prepa school here at Casa de los Sueños. Nadia, the teacher, and her students came with beautiful pieces they had painted to show and sell to our group of Yogis.
These are some really talented and inspired artists, you can see that they were so proud to show their work and excited when they sold something.
Nadia is extremely motivated and hardworking, not to mention an absolute sweetheart. I have had the privilege to get to know some of the teachers from the school and they are all hard working, fun and motivated people.
The teachers in this country are up against very difficult odds, coming from government regulations that are un-helpful and un-realistic, circumstances of teaching and living conditions, down to daily issues of all teachers that can be frustrating and demoralizing.
We are so happy to help in any small way that we can and look forward to a continuing relationship of collaboration (we are talking murals, workshops, and much more here at Sueños).
Some people ask me, "why are you interested in the Prepa?"...my reason is simple. I remember being high school aged, I had the luck of going to a school where the teachers made an impact on my life in the best ways, I was allowed to be myself, to be creative, to grow into an adult that feels confident and supported.
I helped start a teen center when I was fresh out of high school, I did this because I knew I was lucky and not everyone had the same support I did in school and at home. I wanted to be there for youth that was lost and in need of someone just to talk to, to see them as a person.
Being a teenager is, I think, the most difficult, delicate, and important passage in life. It is a time to learn who you are, who you wish to be, who your friends are, and what path you would like to take into adulthood. For that reason, I hope to support the people that are supporting these kids, these kids that, with any luck, will go out into the world to learn and grow and come back to their little town with inspiration and hope for the next generations. And most certainly that would be a much less likely possibility if we don't have a high school here in Yelapa. For that, I will continue to support as much as possible. Stay tuned for ways you can help to.

Here are a few more photos.
https://www.flickr.com/gp/jesseroseroberts/36G9e8

What a difference a day makes.

This morning I was here. In the lovely cafe at the Posada del Cafeto. Where, for the last week, I have shared morning chatter, coffee and bread breaking (amazing pan dulce!) with so many wonderful bambuseros (maybe my favorite term learned this week). This group of scientists, cultivators, conservationists, enthusiasts, innovators, legends, and lovers of this crazy pre-historic, resource rich, enchanting plant. (Of which I will wax poetic about in future blogs) who are so warm, welcoming and really just a good time.

I was one if the last guests of the group. It felt a bit rushed and lonely this morning, after such a savoured time with so many great companions.

Then began a long travel day, 4 hour bus, insane rigamaroll around the Mexico City airport (made worse by too heavy and bad luggage choices), and an easy but full 1 hour flight to Puerto Vallarta.

Arriving I felt tired, hungry, and a bit lonely. As post travel blues are wont to do.

But I knew where I was going, what exactly I would do upon arrival, and that felt nice.

I taxi'd to my apartment in PV, dropped my too heavy/bad choice luggage off, and walked over to Joe Jack's Fish Shack for my favorite Niçoise salad and a ginger mojito, greeted and served by friends and familiar faces. 

Satiated and ready for rest I walked home in the balmy breeze of this cobbled seaside town. I remembered that the best thing is traveling and having an amazing experience, and then feeling absolutely wonderful about coming home. 

Tomorrow I return to Yelapa, to the real start of the busy season, to even more friends and familiar faces, armed with a motivation and inspiration that, at this moment, makes me feel like I will achieve my highest dreams for myself and my community.