Just do it

Every Friday night at the dance studio where I've been taking lessons, we have a dance party where all the students and their guests show up to dance or just to watch and have drinks. Two days ago during my lesson, Christy, the owner suggested that since the following night's party would be my last, I should do a tango demonstration to show how much I've learned in the last few months.

Now, you have to understand that from the age of 6 to 12, I took ballet lessons and managed to avoid ever being in a recital. In fact I quit ballet and never took dance lessons again, much to my mother's disappointment, because I was TERRIFIED of performing. So here I am dozens of years later feeling pretty much like I did when I was 12. No pressure.

Last night, in the middle of the party with about 50 people, Christy turns up the lights and gathers everyone around to announce that it is my last week, what a dedicated student I've been and "Now Denise is going to dance a tango with BOTH of her instructors (Ivan and Ruben)"! OK, so that was news to me because they have very different styles and I'd only mentally prepped for the steps I'd been trying to learn the night before with Ruben. No pressure.

If you've every seen the movie, The Tango Lesson by Sally Potter, there is scene where she is learning tango and she dances simultaneously with three men. It was kind of like that... well not quite, but that's what I felt like. I began the song with Ivan and in the middle they suddenly switched and I continued dancing with Ruben. You also have to understand that this movie is one of my favorites - I mean, who wouldn't want to tango in a big studio with three handsome Latin men?

So, did I faint, fall, throw up? No, thank heaven. Did I make mistakes? Of course. But I got applause! And roses! And people I knew and also had never met came up to me to tell me how impressive and passionate my tango was. So, this was one of those experiences that you daydream about all your life but never believe that you'll really have (like one day I'll win the lottery)... and it really happened. Because I finally just did it.

Originally I was going to end this post right here, but this morning I read an article in the NYT that shook me up a bit and I thought might help me make a point about why my tango experience (and all my experiences this past year) are so important to me. The article profiles Michael Blattman, who at 58 after a very successful and lucrative career, has found himself unemployed for the past 18 months. Of course it scared me... I have little idea what my job prospects will be when I return to the States. This could be me.

But what really disturbed me was what Mr. Blattman was doing with all his free time..."He can walk to shopping, but often drives his secondhand S.U.V. to a grocery store two towns away just to have someplace to go. “If I walk to the store, I’m back in 10 minutes, and then what?” Last Monday, asked what he had planned for the week, he said, “As of now, I have zero planned, not a thing.” He says that filling his days is a chore.

It really takes so little to realize our dreams... or the dreams of others. It's awful to be unemployed, but what an opportunity to do some volunteer work between interviews, or exercise a latent talent for the enjoyment of others. I absolutely do not discount the importance a career, but it's not the only thing that matters.

Adios mi guarderia

How many people have I tearfully said goodbye to this past year? Too many. But that's the tradeoff for the fortune I've had being able to be a part of so many lives, even for just a few months.

I'm leaving San Miguel in a week - back to San Francisco and the reality of a mortgage that needs to be paid. So today I said goodbye to my wonderful colleagues at Casa de los Angeles, the mamas, and the sweet little babies I've helped care for over the past 5 months.

I still can't say enough about Donna Quathamer, the organization she founded, and what they've managed to achieve. This morning, Donna gave me a very kind thank you card. In it was a quote I love...

"I think the purpose of life is to be useful, to be responsible, to be compassionate. It is above all, to matter, to stand for something, to have a made a difference."

So here's my pitch - if you'd like to make a small difference, please think about donating to Casa de los Angeles. If you'd prefer a more hands-on experience, check out the idealist.org - a great resource for NGO info and volunteer ops all over the world.

Beauty and the beast

I just returned this morning from four beautiful days in Acapulco.

I know at this point a bunch of people reading this will say "Acapulco? Are you OUT OF YOUR MIND?" Maybe. Probably not.

In its heyday, Acapulco was the hideaway for many a Hollywood actor. In the late 50s, my parents spent their honeymoon there. It was THE Mexican resort destination. It was beautiful.

And a lot of Acapulco is still beautiful - the sunsets are still breathtaking, the water is warm and crystal clear in many places, the hillsides are lush, and the dark-skinned divers in their tiny swimsuits still do perfect swan dives from La Quebrada.

But a lot of Acapulco is just plain ugly and the drug trafficking of the last few years has taken its toll. Acapulco is a sadly perfect example of the tug of war between man's greedy carelessness and the power of nature.

Arrive on the bus to Acapulco and if you've never been there, your first thought will be finding the next bus back. But drive through the coastal hills and you'll be looking for a real estate agent.

I stayed in a beautiful home up the coast on Mimosa beach. This photo was what I saw from the terrace every evening. About 100 feet below is a secluded private cove where I swam and sat on the sand. What you don't see in this picture is the multi-million dollar property just below of a once prominent Mexican political leader, which was confiscated by the government then completely ransacked and burned by the locals after he was arrested for money laundering and drug trafficking (what better use for a secluded private beach).

So to get from this gorgeous view to the waves below, I traipsed through burnt timbers and broken glass, past empty bungalows filled with bats, and swimming pools thick with decaying mud and mosquitos.

A photo is worth a thousand words but my camera decided to take a break, so I have no images of this disaster. But maybe that's for the best. If we focus too much on the ugly obstacles, we lose sight of the potential for beauty beyond. The jungle is already taking over the property. Fortunately sometimes nature wins in spite of us.

Two hours

Last Monday I spent 2 hours in the Mexico City bus station waiting for my bus back to San Miguel. Trying to be creative was the only way I could keep from going insane.

Perros

Traveling through Mexico City yesterday I stopped at a friends' house in the Condessa. Everyday in the Parque Mexico across the street there is obedience training. Every breed you can imagine is lined up awaiting instructions - or in this case, practicing looking bored. Sometimes, like little kids, you can catch one or two sneekily inching over to their buddy next to them to exchange secrets.... "Did you bring the ball? I'll meet you at the duck pond after school."