Prayer

“Vous voulez aller à l’aéroport?” Reaching for the seatbelt I said, “Oui, merci.”We scooted away from the hotel in Monte Carlo, zipping around the traffic circles at times, seemingly on just two wheels.

She has children. One had been to Canada. Another to Cuba. She has always lived in Monaco. We were on the Middle Corniche, discussing Romans, the Appian Way, Via Aurelia, the Lower, and Upper Corniche as she deftly weaved between the cars, one hand on the wheel, the other punctuating the more important points in her explanation of the construction of these ancient roads.

Once on the highway, she really became animated as we talked about communism and global economics. Eying the speedometer, I noticed that she barely drove below 140 km/hr except for a brief minute or two when she excused herself, then slowed to 110 to answer her cell phone.

I was told that at that time of day it could take an hour or more to reach the airport, we had arrived in less than 40 minutes. She deposited me and my luggage at the curb outside the terminal. Kissed me on both cheeks and with a wave of her red-nailed hand, was off.

It’s the moon you know that pulls on the earth’s ocean waters causing the going in and the going out of the tides. And while that twice-daily event occurs on all tidal waters, in the Bay of Fundy there is another force at play. They call it resonance and, as it’s been explained to me, it is the property of physics that says that as water is squeezed into a tightened space, the water will rise. It has no where to go but up.

For me, at this point in my life, I find this encouraging. In these last nine months I have seen everything I have worked for and everything I thought I could count on swept from me in thunderous waves of betrayal and pain. All that remains is me – the water – being squeezed and compressed resonating in hopeful anticipation and unshakable faith.

As I move ever forward, leaving what was once familiar behind, I take comfort in knowing that from here, the only place to go is up!

“And how do we begin to covet, Clarice? Do we seek out things to covet?…We begin by coveting what we see every day. Don’t you feel eyes moving over your body, Clarice? And don’t your eyes seek out the things you want?” ~ Hannibal Lecter

Strolling the shopping mall with my grandson the other day I couldn’t help but take notice of all of the other adults with children in tow. Most were moms wrestling with shopping bags while re-seating wiggling toddlers into their strollers. Some had older children to corral and lead through the temptations of fifty-cent mechanical elephant rides, candy dispensers and the ubiquitous check-out impulse items. It’s not easy.

I saw few fathers in the mall with their wives and children and of the ones I did see, most seemed to leave the child wrangling to the moms. There was one man I saw while I was walking the mall with my grandson. When I saw him it was hard for me not to stare and I nearly stopped in my tracks.

He was a pleasant-looking man, in his early 30s walking next to his wife (or partner). In his arms he held a baby. A baby girl about eight months old. The baby was sound asleep, resting with the mindless comfort of a child who knows she is loved and safe.

As this couple walked past me I watched how the man was holding his child. She was fully supported, secure – enveloped in his arms. He was engaged in easy conversation with his wife which signalled to me that carrying his child in this way was no imposition – posed no impediment to him.

I was touched by seeing him and instantly recalled the feeling of being a little girl nestled into my own father’s arms. I recalled the smell of his aftershave, the little curly hairs on his chest, the smoothness of the skin of his arms and the safety I felt when he held me.

The experience made me think about how important a father is to a child. Yes, moms are important but fathers bring something to a child that is equally important. I thought of all the children who grow up without knowing what it feels like to be held by a father who loves you. I thought about how even at my age, I miss that feeling.

I wondered if that little girl was aware of the warmth of his body, the beating of his heart or the strength of his chest pressed so firmly against her cheek. I wondered if she knew how he carried her so effortlessly as if she were an inseparable part of him.

In that instant, I envied her.

Something happens when you have a group of people that have gathered in a particular place for a particular reason. I’ve likened this course to a boot camp and in many ways it is. Everything about this experience has been intense. It’s been physically challenging and academically demanding (it’s true when they say you really EARN your certification) which, in itself is intense. Then you couple that with the incredible beauty of the surroundings, the generosity of the people and the camaraderie of your classmates and you have the environment in which life-long bonds are created.

I first recognized this in the lavatory line at the Shrine to the Virgin of Guadalupe. I was one of many women standing in a snaking line down a flight of stairs waiting to pay my 3 pesos to receive my strip of toilet paper and gain admittance to the restroom.

Standing in a line like this you pass the time smiling at the other women and exchanging simple greetings. For reasons that were personal to each of us we had all come to the shrine to see the Tilma with the image of the Holy Virgin. The crowds, music of the choir and organ and the sheer pageantry of the day was quite intense.

Out of respect for where we were visiting, I wore a skirt that morning. You need to know that I love wearing skirts on warm spring and summer days but I don’t wear them as often as I’d like and I have a reason for that. I have an irrational fear of tucking the hem of my skirt into my underpants after using the toilet then walking around in public totally unaware.

Well, that’s exactly what I did. I had come out of one of the stalls and was standing at the sink washing my hands when a women gently tapped my arm and spoke to me in Spanish. Naturally, I didn’t know what she was saying but I did notice that the other women had turned to look at what she was talking about and they were smiling. It only took a few more gestures for me to clue in and realize that the back of my skirt was tucked into my undies. Had it not been for the kindness of the pilgrims, I would have spent the rest of my visit unknowingly displaying my Fruit of the Looms to all and sundry.

Over the time I have been here in Cuernavaca, I’ve been privileged to meet and get to know some really amazing people. Each of us is here for our own particular reason and it seems like many of us are experiencing similar life transitions. We only have 3 more days here and already I feel a sadness growing among us. A bond has been created here – one, I believe for several of us, may be more than that of shared experience.

I know I will take each one of my classmates and instructors home with me in my heart. I look forward to working in an industry with these folks as I know that just like the woman in the lavatory, they will always have my back.

While they went off to climb the mountain to reach the pyramid, I stayed behind to explore the town.

In the zocolo, I stopped to listen to these musicians.

The purpose of today is that we move our class onto a motor coach where we learn and practice the skills we need to master while on tour. Part of this is learning how to speak using the microphone on a moving coach using one hand to operate the mic and the other to hold on for dear life. This is going to be challenging for me. You all know how much I use my hands to talk, well, it looks like I’m going to have to learn how to tell a story without the use of my hands.

I’m bringing the camera today so I should have pictures and tomorrow is a free day for us (no class yeah!) so I’ve got a day trip planned with a few of the other students. It’ll be nice to have an entire day where I can just play tourist.

That’s one of the things that impressed me so much about this school is that they design the training so that you get the travel experience from both sides – a tourist and the tour manager. I think it’s a clever way to train tour managers.

The other day I said that I could not imagine trying to do this job without this specific type of training. I know that there are people who do but I know I couldn’t do this job without it. Although this is like a boot camp and the training is intense, everyone here wants you to succeed. The instructors are friendly and approachable; willing to answer all of our questions and give us tips and pointers.

Well, it’s an early morning today as we have to meet at the school at 7:45am. I’ll check in again…

This is in Teotihuacan and it is an ancient Mayan city built way before Christ. We started at the Pyramid of the Moon and walked way down the Avenue of the Dead to the Pyramid of the Sun. I was going to go straight to the museum but felt drawn to climb it. I would have gone all the way up but was ready to huff when I got halfway there.

I tell ya, being over 7000 feet above sea level sure makes it hard to exert oneself. Here’s some pics: