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Border Crossing
in process...The Border Crossing.
Date: 6/4/2007 11:36:37 AM ( 17 y ) ... viewed 1432 times 8:55 AM
June 3, 07
Paris and I were in the EG Mobile.
When we came to the border,
there was a line all the way to Benito Juarez,
the main drag through the 120,000 city of Tecate.
The line was car to car all the way to the border.
I had last been on this road in Twin Soul/Best Friend's
car about three or more years ago. I had not been
back to the ranch since then.
I slightly remembered it was not an easy road.
There was a high hill.
The wisest thing would have been to not attempt
that border crossing at that time.
I was talking guidance mainly from Paris.
We sort of butted in line, but he said that was o.k.
When we turned left onto the path of creaping vehicles,
there were already about 20 cars along side Benito Juarez.
We did not go farther down Benito Juarez and circle back to
get at the end of the line. It was innocent.
I did not think at the time to do it.
I wasn't wearing my glasses.
I was basically confused about that left turn
and where you go to get to the border.
I was looking to Paris for leadership.
"They will let us in," he said.
Then he yelled out the window.
"How long does it take from here to
cross the border???"
The man in the vehicle who let us in said,
"Two hours."
Paris said he hoped it would take less.
We started to creep up the road.
Then the road turns to the left.
I saw a long line of cars in front of me.
I saw a big hill.
He asked if I wanted him to drive.
I was tired.
I figured I knew the EG Mobile better.
This was not the time to have him drive
her for the first time.
I trusted my own spiritual ability to get us
up that hill and safely across the border.
I took responsibility.
When we started to creep upward.
The line was intensely slow.
I started out being philosophical.
I started to imagine all the things
a person could do while making this border crossing.
At one point, Paris jumped out to take a pee
in the outhouse, very conveniently placed for
the line.
There were numbers of beggars,
at least two, one legged.
There was an indigenous woman
who reached out with a paper cup for money
and said nothing.
I passed giving her any. Then she went around
to Paris. He reached in his pocket and gave her
a bill and a blessing from God.
I had my mind on other things by that time.
Before we started to climb the hill
I kept dozing off. I was that tired.
Then, I would wake up in a jolt and let out
a scream.
When we started to make the climb,
I was riding the clutch.
I asked Paris about riding the clutch.
He knows VW's. He thought it would be o.k.
I was concerned about getting up that hill,
but I said nothing.
If I had been alone, I would have turned back.
Before we left Rancho Tres Estrellas,
there were signs I was not suppose to go home
at this time.
Paris picked up two photos from the ground.
They were face side down.
Both had falling from my notebook.
There were photos I wanted to show Sarah Livia.
One was of here and her brother, taken
at the opening of Parque de Professor.
The other was of Tamara and Jonathan Frey,
the family who opened the gates of Rancho Tres Estrellas
warming to me fifteen years before.
That is another story.
The photos on the ground I sensed were a message,
but I did not heed it.
I was hearing the mountain speaking to me
in my head, but I was having difficulty hearing
because I was not alone.
I told Paris I wanted to go visit the stone
statue of Saint Frances. I wanted to share
some thoughts before we left. That was important
I felt.
Part of me wanted to take the camera,
but the Mountain said, "Leave your camera!"
I was confused.
I asked Paris.
"Should I take my camera?"
He said, "It is your choice."
I left the camera.
When we got to the bridge to see
the St. Francis statue, Paris gave
me some time to be alone.
He had some compost to deliver,
and so he went another direction
and then came back.
The statue has a hand outstretched.
The other hand has a bird in it.
There were some dried flowers in the open hand.
I was going to put the whole packet of
Job's Tears there, plastic and all,
but that did not seem right.
I emptied out the five seeds.
I also gave a stalk of the Kabbalah Barley crop
and put that in the hand of St Francis.
I imagined some bird would have something nice to eat.
I was also carrying an Chinese pot...sort of a bonzai
holder filled with rich compost and worm castings.
I did not want to talke it across the border crossing.
I knew taking soil across the border was a no-no.
I buried a few sugar cane broken pieces from my garden
at his feet. Then I poured out the good soil.
I had forgotten that I had placed a handful of my earthworms
in there. Then were crawling on the ground.
I did not feel this was a place to leave them. Too hot.
Rancho Tres Estrellas is well groomed, but this side of
the bridge, in this particular area, seemed abandoned.
The ground at his feet was not hard,
but there were no flowers.
There was no soaker hose here.
When I had said my goodbye's to Salvadore,
head of the farmers, I gave him five Job's Tears too.
I asked if he would plant them here.
He said yes. One was dedicated to his Seed Dream.
I was concerned that this ground here
could not grow Job's Tears in its present condition.
I touched the statue.
I was having some thoughts that I might not
be welcomed back to stay here in the future.
Some of the things that happened the day before
seemed problematic. I was beating myself up for them.
I had forgotten that the way of this place
is "Siempre Mejor!" Always Better,
the Professor would say.
I closed my eyes.
I prayed to St. Francis.
I asked for the honor of adopting this spot
that seemed abandoned.
I wanted to Caretake it.
I wanted to come back,
and asked that I be allowed to do that.
I said I would caretake that spot,
if allowed to come back.
At that point Paris arrived.
He asked if I wanted my photo taken
at the statue.
This was not a photo op,
that was why I was told to leave my camera
behind.
From there, we went to Twin Soul's rock,
the place where I can see in my mind's eye
Twin Soul taking a summer nap or sitting
on the large boulders.
We went over there. There were cut pieces
of tree limbs all over the place.
I had to mind my step to get around them.
Anita, the Operations Manager for Rancho Tres Estellas
had shared an important teaching that morning with me.
She had offered her to caretake a gift.
She said she would pass it on, but that she did
not want to hold it.
She said, "There are only so many things I
can be responsible for."
Those words sunk in.
Paris and I had a good clearing.
I knew there was more to be said.
Now we are back going up the hill.
My left leg is hurting
from holding in the clutch.
The engine is getting hot.
The car in front is only moving every ten minutes.
We are not more and more on an incline.
At one point, I am not sure we are going to make it,
so I ask Paris to pray.
My left leg is hurting from holding the clutch in,
and having the engine on at the same time.
Paris says, "This is symbolic, going up this hill
like this," but he does not say all he is thinking.
I need relief.
So I ask him to put his leg on the brake so I can
take my foot off the clutch.
He does not about five times going up the hill.
I am recognizing the poetry of this,
two brothers needing to work together.
I could not do this alone.
I do not think any of us can do life alone,
or are meant to attempt that.
At one point going up the incline,
the red light goes on, and then the engine dies.
I wonder how easily it will restart.
In the last week, I had two instances of not being
able to start the EG Mobile. She was towed twice into
Mike's. Each was a simple repair, the second happened
only last Thursday, a day before departure!!!
Here I was, counting on her to get us up and down
this hill!!! Oh my God!!!!
There were a million cars behind us.
There was a whole other lane of cars to the left.
There was no choice but for her to work.
We were near in harm's way, and could easily have rolled
into the vehicle in back or gotten into a big accident mess.
A number of time, Paris coached me to turn off the engine.
She was smoking.
By the time we reached the crest, the car in back,
the one that said, it will take two hours, was keeping his distance.
He knew I was having trouble.
When we reached the crest,
He came out of his car.
He asked how I was doing.
He said he saw a lot of smoke from the clutch.
There was a strong smell.
I just put in a new clutch last summer.
Great.
When we got to the crest, at least an hour had passed.
Paris had prepared some food. He found a way to open
a garbanzo can, and cut up some Tres Estrellas beets
and turnips.
I noticed there was a tortilla stand to the left.
A man came over to ask if we wanted any, but they only
had white flour. No corn tortillas.
[10:06 AM...
got to take a break...
I am starving.
Feeling tired.
Want to garden and clean up some things.
Part two later or another time.... ]
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