Happy New Year! We made it to 2011. I thought it would be something special to make it to 2000. It was no big deal. The computers of the world didn’t explode. Now we can’t even be sure of the Maya calendar’s accurately predicting the END in 2012. If you can’t trust your archaeologists and anthropologists who spend their lives digging in the jungles and staring at bones in their museum labs, who can you trust?
It’s January 1, 2011. I slept through the incessant fireworks that brought in the new year to El Refugio. I was up at 6:00 as usual to feed Duke and get myself ready for the day. The town seems to be asleep. One or two firecrackers cracked. No cars. No microbuses. No vendors crying their wares. Even the dogs and cows are quiet.
Duke and I took a walk up to the park and around to the main street and back to the house. We saw very few people. Coco Joe, the coconut vendor was the only person by the park and no one was in it. In front of the hardware store, two men and a woman chatted in the street. The mini van, “Bomboncito”, that brought Margarita home from the hospital was cruising the avenue looking for fares. Only one mototaxi patrolled the streets.
Litter? I doubt our streets come close to matching Times Square for little pieces of paper, cardboard, Styrofoam cups and trays, 3 liter soda bottles, and the wires from used-up sparklers. But you could easily walk a block without your feet touching pavement.
Poor Duke! He tries so hard. We approached the corner by the police station and I saw there was a fairly wide stream of dirty water we’d have to cross. The high sidewalk gave us an alternative, so I approached the three steps to mount it. Duke wanted to make the whole jump to the sidewalk. He got his front paws on it but didn’t have enough hind leg strength to get him on top. He slipped and landed on his hind quarter in the charco (which is local Spanish for “yuck”). When we got home I kept him on his leash and chased him around in circles trying to splash him with a basin of water. I finally got him wet and tied him to a post to dry. After a walk he likes to go to sleep anyway.
Margarita is up. She ate her three tortillas with hard, dry cheese. The Rose Parade is on so I’ll go watch it with her. Maybe by the time it’s over the world will have awakened.