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By Jan Baumgartner (about the author) Page 2 of 2 page(s)
Mexicans laugh with a deeper resonance. It is hearty and real and closer to the bone, of the soil. It is richer and feels as if it is harvested from the earth, has roots. I hear it reverberating from the land, deep and earthy and from the heart. It sounds heavier and seems to carry with it history, an ancient wisdom. To me, Mexican laughter sounds like a spirit bird ~ a raven or crow. It is the color of coffee. All laughter has wings. Beginnings and Endings I have made new friends here. Some are here to stay, others are fleeting, what they are or need to be for the moment, sweet but temporary, like the instant gratification of chocolate cake. You could argue that friendships formed from batter have no real footing, no foundation. But, I will not short-change nor dismiss the power of chocolate. The cocoa bean was once more valuable than gold.
Others, like small milagros, happen upon you when you least expect them, good luck charms found in once empty pockets, and surprise you with their depth of meaning and forever after.
Friendships should have a beginning. Some, though, begin at the end; an ending in progress. If you meet someone and it begins at the end, backwards, can you start over, at the beginning, knowing how the story ends? Or do second chances not exist if there never was a start?
Marking Time by Church Bells
There is no clock in my apartment. In fact, it is short on many things but I make do just fine. My first day I complained to a friend that there was no cutting knife, only butter knives, and only three forks. “How many forks do you need?” He asked.
I have an old watch that I wear only when traveling. It sits upstairs wheezing away the seconds of its ten dollar price tag. But I always know the time, or close to it, by the church bells, and without the added weight of the world strapped around my wrist.
The church bells ring on the hour and the half. So I am always within 30 minutes of the correct time. Whatever that is. Not knowing the exact time is like laughter ~ it too has wings ~ it’s sweeter than cake.
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