October 19, 2007, Among faces and mountains, The Annapurna Sanctuary, Nepal—A walk through the Himalayas, By Erika Corral, Hands at work, By E.M. Test, Words from the winner of San Miguel Design, By Lisa Simms, Local architect moves to Fábrica la Aurora, Contemporary icons exhibit opening in Pozos, By Nick Hamblen

Among faces and mountains:
A photographic journey through Nepal and Tibet
By Peter Leventhal

Of all the means of making art, the most elusive and beguiling remains the photograph. The painter uses his paints, the sculptor wood, or clay, or stone, substantial materials, but what, after all is the photograph but the most evanescent of things—light. So it is perhaps fitting that it document a spiritual journey, a trek into the highest place inhabited by human beings—Nepal and Tibet. Along one wall, Erika Corral has made a mosaic of her images of the people of these places.

The faces marked by the rigors of living in a place devoid of plant life, and their souls configured in the lines and expressions of their features, also seem to carry the gravity of a place where everything is accepted as sacred, and where all things, animate and not, are considered sacred and god-invested.

Erika also shows a few photographs of the trek to seventeen thousand feet on the mountains. They are almost afterthoughts. Yes, this place can kill the body, but it is the spirit that one comes here to heal. And we see it in the myriad faces. All and everything. The photograph beguiles, and sometimes, in its most artless and homely way, it surprises us with a power that recognizes the universality of our journey. The perennial question, why are we here and where are we going, may never be answered.

But here, where the tectonic plates have thrown up the highest mountains in the world, we see that the sacred has a material life and that simplicity of being answers more than all the convolutions of mind and thought can.

A journey through Nepal and Tibet

The Annapurna Sanctuary, Nepal—A walk through the Himalayas
By Erika Corral

Last April, I traveled to Nepal and Tibet for couple of months. I arrived in Kathmandu—a smoggy and congested capital city with a variety of good food, great Nepali tea and incredible shopping (silks, incense, spices, textiles, puppets, musical instruments and all kinds of hiking gear). Buzzing side streets are but small dusty roads with medieval architecture next to pseudo-modern, decaying construction. I constantly felt in danger of one thing or another. I felt if I didn’t die on my (yet awaiting) 10-day hike or from altitude sickness in the Himalayas, I would eventually die from typhoid or some weird disease, crashing off a cliff while riding on some of Nepal’s fifth class busses, a bomb from a Maoist manifestation or just by walking on the streets of Kathmandu— hit by either a taxi, motorbike, rickshaw or better yet a cow! The driving culture is to never use blinkers, just horns and bells for rickshaws or else risk dying.

After a couple of weeks, I was ready for some clean mountain air and some quietness. I finally met up with my nine-member hiking group. Team members were from Britain, Australia, Canada, Belgium and Mexico (myself). There were also four porters, four assistant guides (which we would meet up north), and our main guide, Shankar.

We took an 8-hour bus ride up north with an incredible view through the foothills of the Himalayas—especially when overlooking old crushed buses at the bottom of cliffs sides! The highway was hardly big enough for two vehicles, let alone two buses going opposite directions with no blinkers or horn. Other than a young Nepali guy snoring on my shoulder, a few “collective” pee stops and a man playing a small Nepali violin, the bus wasn’t too bad.

We headed to Pokhara, a nice lake-side town north of Nepal at the foot of the Himalayas. This is where we started our painfully long ten-day hike to the Annapurna south base camp at about 14,104 feet and the summit at 23,681 feet. The word Annapurna is Sanskrit and means “goddess of the harvest” or “the provider.” The average daily walk ranged from five to nine hours. Mostly the Himalayas are stepped, so there are hardly any flat areas, just endless hills of shiny steps made of local mica mineral deposits.

Our porters and guides were incredible people with a lot of inner wisdom. They are avid devotees of their Hindu gods and goddess who apparently live in the Himalayas. The most important trimurthi or trinity is Brahma, Shiva and Vishnu. Apparently, these gods and goddesses live in the Himalayas. One morning, I told Vishnu, one of the assistant guides, that I had been dreaming of elephants, he then told me that this was an excellent “sign” in their culture as elephants symbolize God, as depicted by the Hindu god Gannesh, the son of Lord Vishnu whose head is that of an elephant. Therefore, my dream meant that “God was with us” and that we would have a successful trip.

Some of the major ethnic groups in the Himalayan regions are the Gurung, Magar, Bhotia, Thakali, Manangis and Sherpas (Tibetan in origin) as well as many smaller groups. On the other hand, sherpas (with lower case) are also known as local people, typically men employed as porters or guides for mountaineering expeditions. They are highly regarded as elite mountaineers and experts in their local terrain as well as exhibiting good physical endurance and resilience in high altitude conditions. However, a sherpa is not necessarily a member of the Sherpa ethnic group.

One of the many sherpas who make a living assisting trekkers in the Himalayas.

On the other hand, porters are usually young men of poor origins who earn their living carrying backpacks for trekkers and taking food supplies in large baskets to local guest houses throughout the Himalayas. If they have a reputation as good workers, they can eventually strive to be a guide. Most of them are very young and physically small and have families of their own by their late teenage years.

We stayed in small, simple homesteads with local people and ate great vegetarian food with a limited array of choices— eggs, rice or noodles different styles and some vegetables. For dessert, there were extreme variations of “custard,” ranging from creamy to sponge-like textures. The guides kept suggesting we eat garlic soup, which is what sherpas eat to avoid altitude sickness as it apparently thins out the blood. Throughout the Himalayas at higher elevations, water bottles are prohibited to avoid pollution, so you must bring an empty container or water bag and buy boiled water by the liter from each homestead. There were some mild cases of diarrhea among the group, nothing too serious. As far as showers and sleeping arrangements were concerned, there were small, basic rooms to share. Sometimes there was a shower with hot water or sometimes just a bucket and a rag.

On the fifth day, after painful calf, lower back and ankle cramps, a few merciless headaches, a slight fever and overall exhaustion, I truly thought I wouldn’t be able to go any further and had a little rendezvous (breakdown) with myself. I swore to Shankar, our main guide, that this was as far as I would or could go. He didn’t seem to take me too seriously and said, “We weel tak tomoro.” But it made no difference, since I had made my decision. I figured it couldn’t be too bad staying there for a few days as the scenery at Chomrong was spectacular. Two incredible mountains peaks sat right outside my window, plus I could just sit and relax (what a concept!), read a book or write in my diary for a few days until the group came back this way. I had made MY decision! The next morning at breakfast, Shankar pulled me aside and said, “Yu luk better. Empty yur mind and think only Annapurna base camp, YOU can du eet. Yu ARE comeeng!” He refused to leave me behind (shucks!) or send me down inside a basket on some sherpa’s back. All of the sudden, something came over me. Maybe I knew there was no choice or that I came to far not to make it, so I ran upstairs (while every one was already on their way) and quickly grabbed my backpack. Surprisingly enough, after a 9-hour hike that day, I felt tired but good. Mmm, I guess Shankar had more faith in me than I had in myself.

After another few excruciating days, the pain seemed to subside and an unknown strength kicked in—although it didn’t seem to make things any easier. We continued crossing endless mountains, valleys, canyons of incredible dimensions, rivers, forests, “iffy” hanging bridges, small Nepali villages finally reaching above the tree line, crossing frozen lakes, water falls, rivers and fallen snow avalanches.

We would wake up at daybreak between 4 and 5am, to get an early start to avoid melting avalanches (usually in springtime) and to watch some incredible sunrises. Early morning offers the best visibility since by noon most of the high peaks are covered in clouds. We normally had breakfast and a briefing and headed out. During the walk we would take small 5–10 minute breaks to hydrate, eventually stopping at a homestead for lunch and water and to relax for a bit. By the time we reached the guest houses in the late evenings, we would gobble down dinner and then either sit around a fire and read magazines or play cards or chess with the porters and guides. The men in Nepal seem to have no problem with their “feminine side,” as they all cuddled up together, held hands and slept together just as friends.

One fine morning, we headed from MBC (Machhhapuchhre Base Camp) to ABC (Annapurna Base Camp) only a few hours away, following the guide’s suggestion to walk slowly at altitude to avoid mountain sickness. I kept noticing a violet flower that seemed to grow everywhere at this high altitude. We walked slowly for a couple hours and, before we knew it, there we were, surrounded by incredible walls of ice and at least seven snow covered peaks ranging from 18,500 to 26,500 feet: Annapurna South (7220m/23,681 ft), Fang (7647m/25,082 ft), Annapurna I (8091m/26,538 ft), Tent Peak (5663m/18,574 ft), Annapurna IV (7525m/24,682 ft), Machhapuchhre “Fish Tale” (6993m/22,937 ft), Huinchuli (6441m/21,126 ft) and, last but not least, the Annapurna South Base Camp (4300m/14,104 ft). I couldn’t help but feel an incredible gratitude towards Shankar for pushing me to reach my mental and physical limits. At that moment, as Vishnu said, God was present.

With another five days of knee and ankle-braking downhills ahead of us (and we thought the uphill was painful!), we slowly made our way back. Leaving the snow capped areas, down through the rhododendron evergreen forests into warmer climates and even had a soak at some natural hot springs. We finally made it back to Pokhara. After a warm bath (finally!) and a delicious Nepali dinner of Dal Bhat (a mix of delicious curries with lentils, curd, rice and vegetables), we then had a night out at a cheesy Nepali electronic “disco,” where we celebrated the end of a very successful trip. The next day we said goodbye and headed our separate ways.

Somehow— despite the cultural diversity of the group, the different backgrounds, languages and culture— we all became a family through the sharing of everyday experiences: the sound of the sticks on the snow, the footsteps, the sighs, the desperation, the awe, the cold, the heat, the good days, the bad days, the long stretches of silence (and chatter), the sky, the food, the people, the endless hills of steps, the jokes, the domino, the Nepali music, the chess, the custard, the altitude, the diarrhea, the headaches, the aches, the injuries, the breathless dimensions, the landscapes, the incredible views and the faces of the kind and hard working people— the porters and guides, their dispositions, their outlooks on life, constant smiles despite their own personal hardships. As Shankar once said, “Life ees for work, for living and for shearing, we have choice.”

Art Opening
Valerie Mejer
Sat, Oct 20, 5–7pm
Fábrica la Aurora

Valerie Mejer was born in Mexico City in 1966 and there completed her formal studies in studio drawing. She discovered painting during her travels, during which she created collections of works called visual journals. In addition, she has published three books of poetry, one of which received an award in Spain. She has twice received a grant from the Mexican government for young creators. In 1996 she received the Critics Award in Mexico City for her design work for a play. She has shown her work mainly in museums, including the Museo Goitia in Zacatecas and La Casa de la Cultura de Italia in Mexico City. As a poet, she has created visual works for other poets, such as the one recently published in France in the book L’Imperfection de la Lune by Antonio Prete.

Some of her poetry comes from images, and some of her paintings (those now in her gallery) come from verbal sources. They run in parallel ways, which is very clear in what she wrote about this collection “I was remembering hands: The hands of my grandmother and her incredible versatility. The hands of my recently born daughter, grabbing my finger as if it were a mast. The hands that had accompanied a phrase in its gestures and that perhaps said something more. The hands that pray in Mexico. I thought of the hands as representing the body individually, the emissary to the words from the untranslatable part of the mind. I thought of those that join, rest, squeeze and, by some incalculable mode, construct their own meaning, parallel but not identical to the words. Without intending to translate anything, I painted this brief homage.”

E.M. Test is a poet, translator and Ph.D. candidate in Renaissance literature at the University of California, Santa Barbara. His poems, translations and essays have appeared in journals such as Poetry London, Poetry Wales, Quadrant (Australia), Southern Poetry Review and The Utne Reader.

I am extremely pleased to win this award. I honestly do not believe that I would be the artist I am today, if I had not moved to San Miguel 13 years ago. After 10 days in town, I was creating things with my hands that I could not have even dreamed about while I lived in the US. I stayed because of that inspiration.

This award for me validates my efforts to be both artist and jeweler as well as story teller. I cannot walk these streets or travel to distant places without needing to tell the story of my experiences through my hands. San Miguel, for me, is that place in the universe that gives me the permission and nurturing, without judgment or ridicule. I was able to create from my own voice, and the courage to keep plugging along as a noncommercial artist and not go get a “real job.”

I honestly did not think it was possible for me as a female and a foreigner to win. And after receiving heartfelt congratulations from my Mexican jeweler friends—friends who like me struggle to survive on the peso economy—I feel more a san miguelense than ever before. It’s clear, clear, clear why I live here.

Lisa Simms is a jewelry designer living here in San Miguel. Her piece, “Asian Summer, A Moment of True Serenity” was the winner of the recently held jewelry competition, San Miguel Design.

Art Opening
Architectural Solutions
Fri, Oct 19, 7pm
Fábrica la Aurora
Space 3A-1

After working nine years in San Miguel on the design and construction of private residences, Arq. Anja Fauske Lorenzo is relocating and expanding her practice into a new concept she calls “Architectural Solutions.”

Her new offices and studio in Fábrica la Aurora will incorporate all aspect of architecture, including the custom design of homes, furniture, cabinetry, iron work, doors and windows. The public is invited to visit Space 3A-1 for the grand inaugural on October 19.

Ms. Fauske is a graduate in Architecture from the University of Guanajuato. She has designed, built and renovated fourteen homes and buildings in San Miguel. Anja spent the summer of 2006 studying Energy Planning and Sustainable Development in Oslo, Norway, adding another important element to her technical expertise. She is an active member of the local College of Architects.

Contemporary icons exhibit opening in Pozos
By Nick Hamblen

Art Opening
Contemporary Icons by Mary Jane Miller
Sat, Oct 27, 6–8pm
galeria6
Plaza de Pozos 6
Mineral de Pozos
422-205-0811

Mary Jane Miller exhibits contemporary icons October 27 through November 15 at galeria6 in Mineral de Pozos. An artist for 30 years, she has worked as an iconographer for the past 10 years, both creating her own works and teaching icon painting in the US and Mexico. She believes that this discipline allows her to make contact with something deeper that the painting itself.

Located on the main plaza, galeria6 is next door to Casa Montana. The largest gallery, housed in one of the original casas in Mineral de Pozos, is entering its third year of operation and is well known for its lush and tranquil gardens. Bird lovers enjoy the large collection of birds making this garden their home. Gallery hours are Mon–Fri, 11am–6pm or by appointment.