my workshop – and winding down
Sunday Feb. 16
My workshop – which was essentially a one-woman show lasting 1 1/2 hours – is over. I think it went well, was heartened by the questions and the faces. Instead of hanging around the conference afterward – it was really chilly at 8 when I set out, and hot by 11 when I’d finished – I walked back to Linda’s to dump extra clothing and relax. Had a swim. How often will I be able to plunge into a pool after teaching a workshop?
Going back a bit to chronicle Friday the 14, there was a big Fiesta that night. It was in a rather obscure part of San Miguel; most people had to get a shuttle from the hotel or a taxi. But it wasn’t far from Linda’s, so I figured out a route and walked. A win! It was in a grand outdoor area with lots of tables and stations; a free mescalita to start, a long lineup for food, then Indigenous dancing and a show with sensuous tango dancers. I left when the second tango began, having eaten and drunk and told John Vaillant how very much I appreciated his passionate talk. Walking home at 10 p.m. along the vibrant streets – priceless.
Saturday was my day off; although the conference continued, Annie and I decided to spend the day together. She came here, and we went to the nearby enormous flower show and sale, which made me green with envy for the glory of what you can grow in Mexico, and we can’t. Packed with colour and scent. Camellias! We came back for a swim and went for lunch at Quinta Loretta, one of Annie’s favourite restaurants, where there was so much food, we had with deep regret to leave some of our delicious chicken molé. Then we explored until 4 when we met my Cabbagetown neighbour and long-time friend John Murtaugh outside the cathedral, where a wedding was about to take place. One thing I love about Mexico – another thing, as there are so many – church bells.
John, who has spent a great deal of time in Mexico, has an old friend, Don Patterson, an American anthropologist who’s lived most of his life in Mexico and has a beautiful, serene Mexican wife, Marisela. They’ve built a wonderful house on a steep street; we drank rosé on their roof deck with a view of the entire town while talking about many things. What a treat. John took us for dinner; we were still full from lunch but managed a margarita, of course, and guacamole, of course, and a few tacos. The streets were packed with crowds of people strolling, dining, celebrating.
Linda, who took my conference pass for the evening, told me I missed an extraordinary keynote from Kaveh Akbar. I’m sorry about that, but sometimes you have to choose. I went to bed early, worried, in my neurotic way, about my voice for the class, but it was fine. It’s my joy to share my enthusiasm for memoir and writing generally.
Soon I’m going back for the Giller spotlight, a final panel with all the keynote speakers, and, at 6.30, Wayne Grady talking to Margaret Atwood. Then a closing reception, where I won’t last long because I have to get up very early.
My kids have sent me many pictures of all the snow. Ye gods, Toronto has been hit hard. I am returning to a snow-scape. And although I will miss beyond belief the colour, scents, birds, people, flowers, and sun, I will as always be very happy to be home.
Pix to follow.
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