Kirby Cleaning the Highway

C LEANING THE HIGHWAY
From Kirby Lindsay, May 23, 2003

    Friends & Family-
    Yes, this is late. In the heat, everything moves slower. Word Processors and word processees, alike. Just to get on the Internet today I had to move slowly, or the computer balked and crashed. I finally got on, but when I tried to enter all your addresses - MELTDOWN! And it wasn't me.I lasted until 3:30.
     This week I am going to write about last week. Not that this week isn't interesting, but I have to leave something for next week, right?
    While members of my family were visiting here, we attended a staff meeting for Project Amigo - the organization I help out. On my own, I move fast enough and sometimes with surprising stealth, to avoid this meeting. Unfortunately, moving five people is much more tricky - and we got stuck.
     Why do I hate meetings? Reason #4 - I always volunteer for something ELSE. Like I have time. Come on! I've got a beach to get to.
     This time it was a joint effort with the very ritzy resort up the road. Some of you may have heard about this resort. It was written up in the Seattle Times (or P-I, is there a difference?) in January. La Hacienda de San Antonio or Mahakua. The resort managers had asked Project Amigo to help on May 14th to pick up trash along the highway.
     Now, my Mom organizes these all the time in Seattle - and I have successfully avoided EVERY ONE! Quite an achievement considering that this is more than once a year for roughly 28 years! I hate picking up other people's trash. I know, it must be done - but I'd rather give blood, literally.
     However, this is Mexico and I am open for new experiences. Plus, I figured that all my friends at the meeting were going along and I didn't want to look like a delicate flower unable to dirty my hands.I'm not, I swear. (You never doubted it for a minute, right?)
     So the day comes, and who shows - ME! Marisol is sick. Juanita and Anilu are pregnant. Yea? Well, I'm insane. Does that count?
     7 a.m. I have to be there. I meet up with Jorge, and for a time it looks like no one else is going to show.aw shucks. I'm grinning and thinking of my bed and a long lazy day spent sleeping, when we find the group diligently collecting trash alongside the 'highway' between Comala and the Hacienda.
     This is called a 'highway' but to those of us city dwellers, we'd call it a road. One lane in both directions and tall, dry grass growing thickly to each side. The road curves and climbs slowly up the side of volcano. It connects the northern most point of the state with the capital, Colima, and eventually reaches the state of Jalisco. This road passes Cofradia, where Project Amigo has their offices. As you get closer to the Hacienda, and the volcano, the temperature slowly drops. However, working in the Mexican sun can be deadly no matter what the elevation.
     Enough has been said about the litter problem in Mexico. No one can visit this country without noticing it. I've also seen great efforts made to educate, train, inform and otherwise deal with the severe problem. This was the first 'street clean-up' I'd heard of and I was pleased to hear of such an effort being made by the Mexicans to improve their environment.
     The group we met up working on the road was entirely men, plus me and Jorge. In a third of a mile, we picked up enough trash to fill more than 15 huge garbage bags. It was going to be a long day. Just past the bend in the road, where the dead dog lay, we met up with a group of women. All of these 'volunteers' were employees of the Hacienda. I tried to stay with the women, but when we got to our next location (the groups leapfrogged each other all day which gave you a continual sense of accomplishment when you met up with another group working toward you) I found I'd gone downhill with the men while the women went uphill. I'd been angling to find out what the Mexican women were doing for bathrooms, and having them around for lookouts. I refused to consider stepping into the brush with a group of men nearby. By 10 a.m. I stopped drinking the water that was being handed out generously.
      As to the trash, when I first arrived in Mexico, I'd noticed a great deal of the garbage on the roads were wrappers from American products. In this day, I noticed a greater balance. Most of the soda bottles were Coke or Pepsi, but there is no Mexican brand - except the bottles for Coconut Water that I picked up. The majority of the beer bottles were Tecate. They use controlled burns to trim down the grasses, and I found that plastic soda bottles are impervious to even this - but plastic cups will, eventually, disintegrate.
     Around 12:30, leapfrogging had led us to the Hacienda, and a group coming down the hill. We had managed, with employees from the Hacienda, a handful of Project Amigo employees and the kids from a local high school and elementary school, to clean over 24 kilometers of roadway (I think it was more, but I'm not great at that stuff).
     At the Hacienda, they served us barbecued chicken, frijoles, potatoes and hot dogs. Plus beer, soda and lots and lots and lots of water. I finally got to see the famous Hacienda, and it impressed me, surprisingly. It isn't as plush as I'd expected (for $1,600 U.S. a night) but very natural and respectful of the environment. I still would never stay there. There is NOTHING to do there - and no beach in sight!! I also met the managers, the people who started this whole foolishness - and discovered they were English. Mexicans may have done the work (plus a few of us Gringas to add flavoring) but the idea came from Foreigners. I was very disappointed.
     From there, I went home, feeling gritty and filthy, and in need of a nap before attending the Teacher's Dinner that night. Unfortunately, after a two hour nap, I'd developed muscle aches in every muscle I own - and a spasmatic pain in my shoulder. The next day I felt worse. By Friday I could walk stand and sit, but getting from one to the other made me rethink whether I really HAD to go to the bathroom, or maybe I could wait a few more days.
     A week later, I'm almost recovered. I've almost forgiven Marisol for wimp-ing out (she's still recovering from her cold to this day). However, I have not changed my mind. I'd rather give blood.
     Enjoy the spring! See you in the summer!!
     Kirby

Home Page: Dixie-Press.com

Since 8/17/2004

Home Page: Dixie-Press.com
Search this site: Search

Written text, stories, photographs and poems on this site are the property of Dorothea Nordstrand and are protected by ©copyright. They cannot be reproduced without the author's permission.