Written on Sept 30th, Los Alamos, New Mexico
I woke up at around 2:36AM today, probably by Carmella's touch or move on the bed. My body urged me to close on her and hold her, but my mind knew that an uncalled approach might offend her or strain our cordial hostess-guest relationship. Regardless, I spent two hours trying to sneak in a touch, a caress, a hold, on her soft skin. I managed to touch my lips to her cheek once, softer than air, a few touches of my adventurous hand to her own, or to her thigh, and then an explicit hug, which although close to becoming a makeout session, ended in a finish of platonic endearment.
Morning came, and I woke up, surprised that I had been able to fall asleep again at all. 7:15AM, Carmella got up and readied to go to her classes. I did the same, expecting to hear from Amber to go to Taos. She would pick me up at Carmella's, at 8:30. She came, closer to 8:45, and we walked to Satellite Coffee to meet Mary and start driving from there. Once on the highway, I divided my focus between talking with Amber, a high-throughput conversationalist, about her life in Guatemala, volcanoes, our lives, and other miscellani. At one point Mary joined the conversation, and they talked about their Spanish-teaching lessons, courses, and zodiac signs, and my attention diverted to the running landscape outside the windows.
Dry sands and sparse, bramblish vegetation, backed by further sands, hilly dunes, and distant rocky mountains. Amber and Mary's words merged into the background as I tried to realize the significance of being where I was. New Mexico, half a country away from where many people assume I am. The scenery became rockier as we rolled up north, montains closer, and more jagged, and then lusher trees, and colors of Fall appeared on the leaves.
We stopped for lunch at Guadalajara Grill. An impressive mural of Quetzalcoatl over the city of Jalisco filled the wall beside our table - it showed a great green serpent rising up high in the sky from its own body, the lush mountains below. I ate a Veggie Taco and the burrito Carmella made for me this morning. Renewed, we continued all the way up to Taos, and arrived at the festival.
Indeed an authentic old town, Taos Pueblo was a dusty circle with a wooden pole in the center, 5 stories high, surrounded by adobe houses, an adobe church, and on festival days only, I assume, dozens of artisan stands, and hundreds of tourists. A merry creek of clear water flowed just past a small hill. Two bridges crossed over it, and on the other side, more adobe houses and food shops.The most active characters of the festival were the Payasos: semi-naked men covered only by long loincloths and black & white body paint stripes all over their body, from their very hair to their feet. They walked all around the area, through the tourists, found children to grab, and dumped them in the creek. If the child was too small, they would just splash him. Their appearance was primitive and presential, and I believe their aim was to entertain and to frighten.
The end of the festival was marked by the Payasos climbing up the center pole. A couple of tricks like jumping and twirling around the pole on the rope preceded the actual climb. Two Payasos tried to climb, but they failed. One of them fell down halfway while climbing back down, but was probably not hurt at all. The third attempt I witnessed was met with the success at the top, and then he proceeded to tie the goods hanging at the top to a rope, and roping them down. There were 3 cloth bags, presumably with food, and a sheep with its throat cut open. We left just as we saw the sheep hanging down halfway to the floor.We stopped at a gas station to refuel, and I cleared up the windows of the dust, abundant at the Taos Pueblo, Mary's car had managed to gather.
We then met Carmella at a Casino, right at the crossing to Los Alamos, her hometown. Her parents invited us to dinner, and we had one delightful meal. Breaded fish with tartar sauce, spaghetti, broccoli, and grilled bread from a loaf I brought from the festival. It was all delicious, and they provided me with a separate room with an air mattress to spend the night at.
I forgot to mention, on the way here with Carmella, the scenery got more beautiful as we drove up higher and higher. Trees became denser, mountains more exotic-looking, volcanic, frosted with basalt crumbs and jagged holes along them. The rocks stopped being mountains and began being mesas, huge walls of rock and sand, with a sparse collection of trees growing around them, definite gaps between the mesas, like, as Carmella said, a line of great dominoes going off into the distance. We stopped at a lookout right beside the road, and the view, I have to say... it was breathtaking. A grand area of sand, a dusty road winding through it in a delicious hiking curve, spotted with only trees that can survive the arid region. All of that bordered by immense walls of jagged and smooth together, a seemingly intentional rocky work of art, seeming to go on endlessly. Breathtaking.And now I go out to see the stars, take my contacts out, and sleep.
Note: The stars were awesome. It was cloudy, but I still saw them for about 20 minutes before I went to sleep.
I woke up at around 2:36AM today, probably by Carmella's touch or move on the bed. My body urged me to close on her and hold her, but my mind knew that an uncalled approach might offend her or strain our cordial hostess-guest relationship. Regardless, I spent two hours trying to sneak in a touch, a caress, a hold, on her soft skin. I managed to touch my lips to her cheek once, softer than air, a few touches of my adventurous hand to her own, or to her thigh, and then an explicit hug, which although close to becoming a makeout session, ended in a finish of platonic endearment.
Morning came, and I woke up, surprised that I had been able to fall asleep again at all. 7:15AM, Carmella got up and readied to go to her classes. I did the same, expecting to hear from Amber to go to Taos. She would pick me up at Carmella's, at 8:30. She came, closer to 8:45, and we walked to Satellite Coffee to meet Mary and start driving from there. Once on the highway, I divided my focus between talking with Amber, a high-throughput conversationalist, about her life in Guatemala, volcanoes, our lives, and other miscellani. At one point Mary joined the conversation, and they talked about their Spanish-teaching lessons, courses, and zodiac signs, and my attention diverted to the running landscape outside the windows.
Dry sands and sparse, bramblish vegetation, backed by further sands, hilly dunes, and distant rocky mountains. Amber and Mary's words merged into the background as I tried to realize the significance of being where I was. New Mexico, half a country away from where many people assume I am. The scenery became rockier as we rolled up north, montains closer, and more jagged, and then lusher trees, and colors of Fall appeared on the leaves.
We stopped for lunch at Guadalajara Grill. An impressive mural of Quetzalcoatl over the city of Jalisco filled the wall beside our table - it showed a great green serpent rising up high in the sky from its own body, the lush mountains below. I ate a Veggie Taco and the burrito Carmella made for me this morning. Renewed, we continued all the way up to Taos, and arrived at the festival.
Indeed an authentic old town, Taos Pueblo was a dusty circle with a wooden pole in the center, 5 stories high, surrounded by adobe houses, an adobe church, and on festival days only, I assume, dozens of artisan stands, and hundreds of tourists. A merry creek of clear water flowed just past a small hill. Two bridges crossed over it, and on the other side, more adobe houses and food shops.The most active characters of the festival were the Payasos: semi-naked men covered only by long loincloths and black & white body paint stripes all over their body, from their very hair to their feet. They walked all around the area, through the tourists, found children to grab, and dumped them in the creek. If the child was too small, they would just splash him. Their appearance was primitive and presential, and I believe their aim was to entertain and to frighten.
The end of the festival was marked by the Payasos climbing up the center pole. A couple of tricks like jumping and twirling around the pole on the rope preceded the actual climb. Two Payasos tried to climb, but they failed. One of them fell down halfway while climbing back down, but was probably not hurt at all. The third attempt I witnessed was met with the success at the top, and then he proceeded to tie the goods hanging at the top to a rope, and roping them down. There were 3 cloth bags, presumably with food, and a sheep with its throat cut open. We left just as we saw the sheep hanging down halfway to the floor.We stopped at a gas station to refuel, and I cleared up the windows of the dust, abundant at the Taos Pueblo, Mary's car had managed to gather.
We then met Carmella at a Casino, right at the crossing to Los Alamos, her hometown. Her parents invited us to dinner, and we had one delightful meal. Breaded fish with tartar sauce, spaghetti, broccoli, and grilled bread from a loaf I brought from the festival. It was all delicious, and they provided me with a separate room with an air mattress to spend the night at.
I forgot to mention, on the way here with Carmella, the scenery got more beautiful as we drove up higher and higher. Trees became denser, mountains more exotic-looking, volcanic, frosted with basalt crumbs and jagged holes along them. The rocks stopped being mountains and began being mesas, huge walls of rock and sand, with a sparse collection of trees growing around them, definite gaps between the mesas, like, as Carmella said, a line of great dominoes going off into the distance. We stopped at a lookout right beside the road, and the view, I have to say... it was breathtaking. A grand area of sand, a dusty road winding through it in a delicious hiking curve, spotted with only trees that can survive the arid region. All of that bordered by immense walls of jagged and smooth together, a seemingly intentional rocky work of art, seeming to go on endlessly. Breathtaking.And now I go out to see the stars, take my contacts out, and sleep.
Note: The stars were awesome. It was cloudy, but I still saw them for about 20 minutes before I went to sleep.
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