Rachel Werling on wed 20 sep 06
=0A=0ARain, Potters, Farmers, Fool/A potter's tales from Mexico #2=0A=0A=0A=
=0A=0A=0A The rain=0Acame back this afternoon. Out of the east, a da=
rk sky full of water. The=0Ashepherds on the hill hid under their little sq=
uares of plastic or took shelter=0Aon the lee side of large cattle. The dro=
ps turned to vapor as they hit the hot=0Adry earth, disappeared into the cr=
isp brown leaves of the field corn. It has=0Abeen forty nine days since the=
last drop of water fell from the sky into this=0Avalley.=0A=0A=0A T=
he=0AOaxacans, corn farmers, subsistence farmers, people who eat no meal th=
at is not=0Acentered around corn, who's dreams are permeated with corn, pla=
nted their corn=0Ain late May, as they do every year, with the onset of the=
summer rains. In July=0Awith corn waist high and ready to flower the last =
drop fell that would fall for=0Asix weeks. For the first couple weeks or of=
this unwelcome blue sky, thirsty=0Aeyes read the horizon, there still bein=
g hope that the heavens would return=0Awith their generosity. After that, w=
ith the healthy green leaves fading and=0Acurling in, the tips yellowing, t=
he dust swirling in the afternoon wind, there=0Awas no longer need to watch=
the skies. The harvest was lost. The stalks would=0Abe salvaged for feed, =
and maybe a planting of late season pinto or garbanzo=0Awould help hold thi=
ngs together through the long dry season.=0A=0A=0A The rural potters=
,=0Alike everyone living under the whims of nature, watch the sky like hawk=
s trying=0Ato read it's mood, predict its will. A rain mid=E2=80=91firing c=
an mean the loss of a seven=0Adays=E2=80=99 hard work. Generally the potter=
s here close shop during the rainy season=0Aand go to work in the fields. W=
et soil, wet wood, mist, vapor, tremendous=0Aafternoon thundershowers take =
too heavy a toll on the fragile pots to make=0Apotting worthwhile. Clay and=
pots from October to May,mud and corn the rest of=0Athe year.=0A=0A=0A =
In spite of=0Atheir hawk eyes, I bet this afternoon's shower caught the=
m unawares. And I bet=0Athey didn't mind a bit, for potters are farmers too=
, and this rain, which is=0Acontinuing into the night, gives the vital hope=
that a harvest of some sort can=0Astill be made this year.=0A=0A=0A =0A=0A=
=0A A few=0AAugusts back I was out in San Marcos, an ancient village=
of valley Zapotec=0Apotters who make smooth and round, burnished, red pots=
and the essential comal,=0Aupon which tortillas are cooked. I was buying p=
ots to fill a truck with old=0ACatalina and her clan. Daughters and daughte=
rs in law, sisters and cousins and=0Anephews. There were perhaps a dozen wo=
men gathered in Catalina's yard, together=0Awith the goats and turkeys and =
pigs and one tall gringo. As it usually is when=0AI go to buy pots, after t=
he haggling is done, there is chatting, laughter, food=0Asharing and story =
telling. That afternoon I was entertaining the group with=0Ahopped=E2=80=91=
up tales of my follies that rainy season, of getting stuck on muddy=0Aroads=
, being chased by oncoming showers or caught in the open and soaked=0Athrou=
gh. =0A=0A=0A As we were=0Aworking the clouds were rapidly building =
along the ridges above. Worried that I=0Awas again going to get hit by a bi=
g shower and that all the pots and packing=0Acardboard would get wet, I sum=
med up my story telling with a bold, foolish=0Astatement. "Damned rain!".=
=0A=0A=0A There was a=0Asudden silence among the women, an enormous =
still and almost silent utterances=0Aof "madre mia!", "ai, senor!" and some=
bit of Zapotec that=0AI couldn't understand. And just as quickly, recovery=
. The chit chatting resumed=0Aas if nothing had ever been said, for the Oax=
acans are nothing if not=0Ahospitable and accommodating. But old Catalina, =
with her broken Spanish, the=0Amatriarch of this clan, said to me very seri=
ously, "rain makes the corn=0Agrow. Rain is a blessing from Nuestro Senor".=
=0A=0A=0A Of course I was immediately aware of=0Athe depth of my ver=
bal blunder, even as the words left my mouth. But the words=0Aleft. How cou=
ld I explain to Catalina that where I come from it never rains in=0Athe cle=
an, wide, fluorescent rows of the fields where I take harvest. Not only=0At=
hat, but it doesn't matter if it's June or January, there are always green=
=0Aveggies and red apples. =0A=0A=0A I only have it by theory that ra=
in and=0Afood are united. I have not lived with the need to watch the skies=
every day=0Afor sign of water. I have not had to follow the rhythms of the=
seasons nor=0Aworry the hot blue sky. I have never lived the glory of the =
feasting at harvest,=0Athe juicy sweetness of fruit that you can only get a=
nd eat during four weeks of=0Athe year, the good pleasure of eating your ow=
n hard earned reward.=0A=0A=0A Or at least=0AI hadn't, but I'm not i=
n Oaxaca for the good weather, though God knows I watch=0Athese days forit =
tells me things about the lives of my friends, these farmers=0Aand potters.=
I'm here because these potters and farmers know a whole lot about=0Athings=
of which I know squat. I'm listening, I'm learning.=0A=0A=0A And it'=
s ok,=0Athey know we gringos have our tricks, but in general are fairly foo=
lish. Such=0Aan understanding helps me enormously amongst these good people=
.=0A=0A=0A =0A=0A=0AA WEB version of this tale, complete with illustrations=
,=0Amay be found at http://www.manos-de-oaxaca.com/jr_ofrain.htm=0A=0A=0A =
=0A=0A=0ATo learn how you can avoid sticking your foot in your mouth=0Awhil=
e gossiping with rural potters check out www.traditionsmexico.com to see th=
e=0Aamazingly tempting selection of pottery workshops and tours into rural =
Mexico=0Athat Eric Mindling has put together. =0A=0A=0A =0ATraditions Mexic=
o Hands On Tours=0A Oaxaca, Mexico=0A www.traditionsmexico.com=0A www.ma=
nos-de-oaxaca.com=0A =0A=0A=0A=0A
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