I only have two days left of my Spanish class here in Merida Mexico. I say I because last Wednesday before class, Terry tested positive for COVID. He hadn’t been feeling well. Just to be safe, he took the test. Wow! It immediately turned a pissed-off purple-ish brown. What a nasty surprise. He’s getting better and I’m just plane negative.
So I go it alone to class. Students come and go. Now I’m the weakest student in class. Today we had the presente perfecto. It’s the title of something perfect. All our present living should be perfect. It could be a first line in a poem or spoken in a movie. The present perfect begins today . . . by being the death of me. I’m not an indirect object and I’m not known to be direct.
I will miss these discussions , but never remember the content.
The only chairs in this house are torturous. There is a standard rolling chair at the desk. But no light. In the afternoon we could capture light from the sun, but the shades are closed and tucked in owing to the 90 degree heat that heats to 105 once filtered through the window. The two remaining sitting devices are high chairs. They were trending recently but there is a reason they didn’t remain popular. One reason lives in our far away subconscious memory of the freedom we enjoyed when our parents released us from the prison of the high chair. And truth be found when mounting the adult high chair, there is no way to propel your lap under the table. There you stay too far out to keep food off your lap, or to write your letter to Maria. The uncomfortability rating for these chairs is high.
On this Wednesday, our class visited Museo Fernando Garcia Ponce. Terry met us there. He was fresh from the Zoo so it was a jammed packed day for him. He’s crushing it. We were viewing the art to get impressions of the cruelty of the oppressors, our theme of the week. Terry and I were sharing a handout, sitting on the floor viewing a picture and madly filling in the answers, when the Policía asked us questions about what we we’re doing. We directed them to our instructor, who was quickly led away. We were so relieved when she wasn’t under arrest. She was calmly informed to cease and desist. We did not have permission to continue. We shared our answers in a circle, and left without further molestation.
Mountain Peace 