Leaving Fort Worth was a pain. I had to organize mi casita so that the inevitable Agosto heat would do minimal damage to my house and its contents, including my little cat Gracia (Grace). So, I had to hook up cat-sitters, house-sitters, and yarda y planta waterers. I seemed to be on the phone and making little notes for the caretakers straight up to the last minute. Of course, there was packing (for a week) to do and the "what have i forgotten?" frenzy where i'm walking to every room, hoping for a mental jog to help me remember the things i needed to pack. Being a writer, i have to think about things like contact/biz cards and writing samples and merch (my books, my spoken word cds) to sell. Thank gods for luggage on wheels. Sin llantas, i don't know how i woulda managed to drag all my stuff through the airport by myself.
That last night in FW, i got about three hours sleep, so i crashed out during the 55-minute flight from Dallas Love Field to San Antonio International. Upon arrival, i drowsily stepped through the terminal to get to baggage claim, where i was to meet up with
ARIEL ROBELLO, award-winning (NALAC project grant, Emerging Voices Rosenthal Fellowship) poet and educator. She wasn't wearing the cowboy hat that she had told me she was going to wear in order to be easily recognized, but that's cool as i remembered what she looked like from meeting her at the "Pinta Tu Propio Mundo" performance we did at
GALERIA DE LA RAZA back in 2004. Once we found one another in the airport, we claimed my luggage, and drifted off to scoop up another writer, Linda Backiel from Puerto Rico.
All signs pointed to Our Lady of the Lake University (OLLU) in San Antonio, where 50 or so Chican@/Latin@ (the @ sign is shorthand for female "a" and male "o" combined, in order to minimize use of masculinized nouns when i'm actually referring to females and males, transgendered, queer, as well as bi individuals.) writers, performance artists, scholars, and students gathered for the annual
MACONDO WORKSHOP, a week-long mecca of artistic and literary exchange with published and unpublished writers and performers of poetry, prose, spoken word, novels, stage plays, etc. This was going to be my second year, so that made me a "chismosa". (First-years are "mocos@s" or snot-nosed and third-years are "picos@s" or very spicy.) Using this taxonomy is fun and allows us to recognize levels of experience, contribution, and familiarity within the Macondo comunidad. (Oh, Macondo is the name of the fictitious village described in 100 YEARS OF SOLITUDE by Gabriel Garcia Marquez.) Individually and all together, we are MACONDISTAS!
On the way to the OLLU campus, Ariel directed our attention to all the monarchs flitting about. Yes, they seemed to be everywhere, probably making a pitstop before migrating further south to Mexico.. These mariposas (butterflies) were constant companions throughout the week of Macondo.
I ended up in a second-floor room in a dorm which had probably been built in the mid-1960s (if that recent), which meant that there were no elevators. Once I'd hauled up my stuff to my room, I realized that it had been a good idea to pack my flannel pjs, as the room temp was frigidaire-cool. No complaints here, i was thankful to not be in my sweatbox of a house for at least this one precious week. Quickly, I changed clothes and prepped for the Welcome Dinner, which was to start at 6pm.
I met some of the Macondistas at the appointed time to catch a van that would deliver us to the salon for the Welcome Dinner, in the King Williams district. Hugs and kisses for folks I knew from Austin or San Anto or from last year's Macondo workshop. Oh, minor detail. We got drenched on the way to the van. Yes, it rained! Halleluja, it rained. Cooling, soothing, and refreshing. It arrived just as quickly as it dispersed, but thankfully it left lower temps for the remainder of the evening-into-morning hours.
At the sena, or dinner itself, a sea of folks was arriving through multiple entrance doors. I glimpsed so many people across the room, folks i knew, that i wanted to leap over and greet them. I saw award-winning poet
CAROLINA MONSIVAIS from the El Paso-Nuevo Mexico area; I saw Chicana theater scholar and director/dramaturg/writer Irma Mayorga; I saw Ben Olguin, the profesor at UTSA who gave me a ride on his motorcycle last year; I saw Liliana Valenzuela, who was taking tickets at the door--she the Chilanga poet-writer-translator from Austin; and so many many more. Before i even had a sip of drink from the cash bar, I started to feel a buzz. This gathering was like a who's who of Chicano/a lit and scholarship. I told myself to keep cool and not get overhyped. We had the whole week to hang out and talk and share together, so there was no need for me to be a giddy girl here. Okay, i FELT giddy, but i tried to keep it on the down low.
As we mingled in the salon, all 100 or so of us, we munched on appetizers and sipped our bebidas. I saw Macondo coordinator ire'ne lara silva (Sandra's admin. assistant in getting this whole workshop shebang together), all calm and collected, by the dessert table. She said that she was much more relaxed, here at the outset of the Macondo week, than she was this time last summer. I was happy to see her so chillaxed, knowing also that there were bound to be stresses and setbacks later on down the line. I ran into Steve Bailey, of Jump Start Theater, who told me, "Robert Karimi's looking for you." Omigod,
KARIMI in town? Steve told me that Robert was at the Ruta Maya Coffeehouse, so I made a mental note to hitch a ride there after the dinner. Jackie Cuevas, publisher of
EVELYN STREET PRESS, showed up with her partner and fellow writer Jen Margulies and swiftly offered to buy me a drink. (Drink number one of Macondo workshop 2006--for the record...) Irma Mayorga and I chatted about theater and other subjects before Sandra Cisneros stepped up to the mic and gave us the official welcome, happily announcing that an IRS letter received a day earlier made it official: Macondo the writing workshop is officially a 501 (c)3 non-profit. Cheers and applause. Dinner was served, more conversations ensued. Have to admit that I felt very proud to be included in this association of literary Chican@s--and their allies.
Afterwards, some of the guys (raulrsalinas, Levi Romero, Rene Valdez, Ben Olguin, Tony Diaz) were heading to Ruta Maya Coffeehouse to see what was left of the all-day-into-night benefit and commemorative performance on behalf of
TRINIDAD SANCHEZ, JR. I hitched a ride (this time in a car) with Ben, who was eager to share details of his recent work trip to Cuba, about which he is writing an article for eventual publication in Z MAGAZINE (i'll try to let you know when that comes to be...) By the way, as Ben saw it and now tells it, "The revolution will live on in Cuba, it does not depend on Castro..." When we arrived at Ruta Maya, we saw that the benefit had pretty much wound down, even though the
SOUL MIX REVUE featuring Suzy Bravo was tearing it up with some slammin' good oldskool soul tunes. (Manny, the drummer, had sent me noticias about the Soul Mix Revue, so i'd been hoping to catch this San Anto supergroup, and here they were, and--lemme tell you--ain't no email exist that's gonna prepare you for the likes of Suzy Bravo. She's got stunning presence and vocal chords of burnished metal.) Approaching the coffee counter with Rene (of Resistencia Bookstore), I started to assess the social situation, countin' up about 10 people i knew in the venue. Within a minute, I'd gotten big bear hugs from Karimi (who'd found a bargain flight from Minnesota to get here for mentor Trinidad's commemorative benefit). I also greeted Santiago, another poet protege of Trino, then moved on to greet Vicki of the San Anto Cultural Arts Commission and then, Laura Varela, la filmmaker popped up to welcome me. Dang, i hadn't seen Laura in about 7 years! She has truly been busy, serving on the Media Arts Panel for the Texas Commission on the Arts and as Program Director for
NALIP (National Association of Latino Independent Producers) in San Antonio. Laura co-produced the documentary short "Texas: Majority Minority" and is now working on a new project, "As Long as I Remember: American Veteranos" with funding support from both Humanities Texas and
LATINO PUBLIC BROADCASTING. Big ups, Laura!
Pretty soon, a big buzz got goin' that raul r salinas was in the house, so the emcee (whose name i have improperly forgotten, although he was so kind and welcoming) huddled up with a few of the guys to bring the energy of the benefit back up with a reading by raul, and a video screening (raw footage of Trinidad Sanchez) from Laura's work-in-progress. Within ten minutes, there seemed to be more people in the house and the volume of the chatter rose up in anticipation of raul gettin' onstage. After all, most folks there at Ruta Maya knew that raul had had a close call himself recently, with his medical emergency of last month. We, therefore, were appropriately revved up to see this Tejano legend and activista do a few literary lineas in tribute to another elder compa who had just passed. And wouldn't you know it, raul chose to read "Stop the Madness", probably one of the most dynamic and urgent pieces that Trino ever penned. What a moment---and, to be sure, there were cameras rolling at that moment. A couple of folks were also beckoning me to perform, and I was flattered by the invitation, but Ruta Maya had to close and it had been a long night already. But not long enough for some of us.
Karimi and Vicki wanted me to join them on Vicki's porch for conversation and cocktails, and Laura V wanted to take me out for a drink, and then some of the others were also hungry. The consensus decision:
MI TIERRA for food, drinks and conversation--after all, they're open 24 hours. Karimi called dibbs on driving me, so I rode with him in a borrowed truck (that boy would be hella stiff competition on the "Amazing Race" reality show, methinks) to Mi Tierra, as we maximized on time alone by catching up with each other's performance gigs, funding exploits, project ambitions, y personal chisme. It's
always good to see my Kaotic Karimi. In the restaurant, I ended up across the table from San Diego performance artist and activista Victor Payan, who with his partner and creative co-conspirator, Pocha Peña (aka the Chicana writer/producer Sandra Peña Sarmiento), were in town to do some video projects. So, you see, many many paths of Chican@ cultural production and activity had brought us to this particular city on this particular night. Victor and I hit it off, easily moving from discussion about the ongoing struggle to "save"
EL CENTRO CULTURAL DE LA RAZA and reclaim it for the comunidad of artists and cultural workers who are now being shut out, but also toasting the work of
CALACA PRESS founders Consuelo and Brent Beltrán. (Some of you may know that some of my work is featured on the RAZA SPOKEN HERE - 2nd edition - cd, released by Calaca Press in 2000.)
Thanks to Houstonian Tony D of
NUESTRA PALABRA for the ride back to the OLLU dorm, all tired y conversationally-spent.
And that was just the OPENING DAY of Macondo.
