November arouses all kinds of poetry
No matter what happens throughout the rest of the year, I always know that from the very first day of November, until the last day of May will be delicious, the weather seasoning my perception and all my activities.
My senses register the textures of this new environment, my eyes travel through a crystalline atmosphere that renews me from within with essences that come from mountains, ice and sea, aromatherapy.
 My skin swims, floats welcoming the embrace of this breeze of chlorophyll, silver and crystal.
Birds’ songs tell me they are also renewed today, it is good to understand their language.
The first day of November gave us its first sprout, it comes as a natural that this happens at the library, paradoxically this new blossom celebrates the day of the dead, which is part of a culture very much alive; because we Mexicans feast the dead with a mixture of colorful mourning, sad and happy, religious and pagan, conservative and bacchanalian, solemn and mocking. A quasi-unfathomable whim of our Indigenous and Spanish roots.
At Los Mangos Library, on November 1st we displayed what we are made of: I remember among other things a choreography by Gaby Raigosa representing the Veracruz State dance of “La Bruja” (The Witch), bringing together spells and curses, the dancers manage to balance a lit candle upon their heads, adding spectacularity and mysticism to the show of the day of the dead.
Other evocations followed, images I had seen before: the “Catrinas” women’s skeletons from the imagination of our engraver José Guadalupe Posada (1852-1913), they were there in flesh and bone! Flesh and bone skeletons? Whatever, they were very much alive!
It was a presentation of Byblos Contemporary Ballet, a collection of images, movements, colors, evocations, rhythms, gravity and flight, transformations, bringing to life the engravings of Posada and his “Catrinas” in a most extraordinary fashion.
I had seen very good performances by Byblos, but this one just captivated me, our most valued traditions alive again, under a new light, new color and movement.
 I wanted to congratulate Melissa, Byblos’ director, for this extraordinary celebration, but I could not find her, so I decided to head home just then, taking with me this richness of images and to keep savoring them without distractions. On my way to the gate I was confronted with an apparition, a most beautiful Catrina, one who gave birth to other Catrinas. It was Melissa herself; I humbly rendered homage and sang my admiration for her creativity.
November carried on, laden with festivities and opportunities to immerse into fascinating worlds and their marvels. We had a delicious International Gourmet Festival, a Golf Tournament and a Fishing Tournament; but, most of all, we had the 10th anniversary of our Los Mangos Library, and to top it off we had the meetings of the English writers and the meeting of the Spanish Vallartense writers.
I was nuts about participating in everything, but I also had to make deliveries of our PVMirror weekly printed edition, so I spent a while with the English writers. I left them a hefty load of our off-the-press PVMirror and ran out to deliver the rest to our strategic locations so our tourists and English-speaking residents will not miss an issue.
Along my sojourn I could listen to the inauguration of the Annual International Book Fair in Guadalajara, and especially António Lobo Antunes, the Portuguese writer who was honored with this year’s fair prize, he spoke from the heart about his heart wrenching war correspondent’s experiences; this somewhat lessened my sense of absence from the writers’ meetings.
 I came back to the library when the Vallartense authors’ meeting had already started; this last celebration turned out to be a most unique one as many blind people with a huge yearning to read showed up. The library inaugurated its talking books system and its Braille books section for them.
Afterwards, among the participants I was lucky enough to see, to listen and be transported by the charming poetry of Ricardo Castillo; a fascinating and unforgettable experience. Ricardo danced and sang his poetry’s moving about the whole scenario; there was rhythm and movement, both physical and spiritual that infected us ointo his trance.
I was aghast for a period of time, ruminating over that time-space while other things went by, until Melissa sat by me and awoke me from my reverie, she asked me: did you happen to listen to my dad?.Email to a friend
-Ay, Melissa, I arrived late and didn’t see him, I don’t know him, what is his name?
-His name is Ricardo Castillo and he is right there
-Divine creature! Now I realize! You could only be the creation of a poet
Eduardo Rincón- Gallardo
E-mail: toureps@prodigy.net.mx
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