Tag Archives: North Carolina

Where are you from? Where are you going? Oaxaca, Mexico. Durham, North Carolina.

Yesterday was a long travel day to get from Oaxaca, Mexico, to Durham, North Carolina. On the early morning flight from Oaxaca to Mexico City, I met Carina Pacheco from San Pablo Villa de Mitla, Oaxaca. She was on her way to Cabo San Lucas where the family has a shop that sells famous Mitla woven cotton textiles.

Where are you from? she asks me. Teotitlan del Valle, Oaxaca, I say with some pride in my voice. And, now I’m sure to add, Durham, North Carolina, too, also with equal pride. Durham will be my new home, too. Carina and I promise to stay in contact. I’m certain we will. Oaxaqueños keep their promises. Plus, we live only a few villages apart down the Panamerican Highway.

Weaver Arturo Hernandez, San Pablo Villa de Mitla, Oaxaca: “I made your clothes.”

In Houston, a young man named Stefano helps me load my two giant suitcases (I’m moving, after all) onto a trolley to go through customs. Stefano is from Puebla. His great, great-grandfather came from Italy. He lives in a small town near Cholula, Puebla, populated by Italians, and speaks excellent English.

Mexico is a melting pot, filled with immigrants: Africa, Italy, Eastern Europe, Germany, France, Philippines, China, and yes, the USA. They are Catholics, Jews, Protestants, Muslims, Hindus and more. A long history of diversity shows in their complexions and features. Racial and cultural intermarriage is accepted here.

Where are you from? says Stefano. Two places, I answer. Oaxaca, Mexico and Durham, North Carolina. It’s beginning to sound real as I prepare to move into my apartment/condo in downtown Durham, which is why I’m here now. We sit down to share a meal together before he goes on to Tampa, Florida. This only happens to me with Mexicans!

Durham is an old tobacco town undergoing urban revitalization. Its downtown is filled with great restaurants and street musicians who are steeped in the South’s blues culture. It’s a pedestrian lifestyle. I’ll be close to good, longtime friends who I miss.

Downtown Durham, NC — where I live now, too

I’m also here in a Blue Bubble, where I can make a difference by participating in the NAACP and changing the course of my state’s and country’s political history. Ojala! (That’s Spanish for, god willing.)

It’s been four years since I’ve had a home in North Carolina and I’m grateful to be back. Oaxaca is my home, too, where indigenous identity speaks to me. This is where I look out over mountains and valleys where textiles woven and dyed with the hands of the artisans are a song.

And, what are in my suitcases? Oaxaca whole bean coffee. A cotton bedspread woven by Arturo Hernandez. A rebozo from Tenancingo de Degollado. A blouse from Cuetzalan, Puebla. A poncho from San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas. Borders are seamless in the end.

Yet, an airline representative steps onto the plane in Houston and says that due to heightened security, we will be escorted to immigration. I don’t remember that. Another new form of intimidation?

 

 

 

 

For All the Bad Hombres and Nasty Women: An Essay on Voting

Yesterday was opening day for early voting in North Carolina, where I live when I’m not in Oaxaca. The top priority for being here now was to change my voter registration to my new legal name of Norma Lee Schafer and to vote in this presidential election. I drove to Graham, North Carolina, the Alamance County seat of government, stood in line and cast my ballot. Done.

But not really. The politics of anger, bitterness, biting and back-biting, hurled insults and what it means to live in a democracy where voting is a right, a privilege and a responsibility are taking its toll on me. It was a sleepless night for me on October 20 as I reviewed the October 19 “debate” and its aftermath, what it means to have a clean election that is not rigged.

Vote Protector Volunteer. I see this as reassurance.

Vote Protector Volunteer. I see this as reassurance.

So, this is what is prompting me to write this essay about voting, elections, and the tone of discourse in the USA. To say I am disturbed is to minimize what is happening in our country. I know many of you join me.

To disrespect the electorate and the electoral process by a major party candidate who says he will not accept the election outcome unless he wins brings our democracy to a level I have never seen in my lifetime. Political analysts say it is without precedent.

Tell the African-Americans and Latinos in line with me at the Youth Services Building set up by the Alamance County Board of Elections that this is a rigged election. Tell all the traditional country born and bred southerners with teased blond hair or baseball caps standing with me in the hot afternoon sun that their vote is discounted unless a certain candidate wins.

Standing in line waiting to vote this year meant even more to me than usual. I feel proud to participate in a several hundred year process that is safe, respectful, honest and peaceful. Standing in line, I’m reminded that not many countries in the world offer this to their citizens.  I am reminded that many don’t vote in Mexico because they believe the elections are pre-determined.

I take this voting responsibility seriously. Especially this year when so much is at stake.

As I waited in line that continued to grow as the afternoon lengthened, neighbors and strangers exchanged greetings, smiled, held on to hands of children, tipped their hats for shade. I have no idea whether the kindly man behind me was Democrat or Republican and I didn’t ask as he helped me take off my jacket to use as a sun shield. We stood patiently, waiting our turn. Election officials told me they would not close the doors. Everyone in line at 5 p.m., however long it was, would vote.

In line, I felt this sense of urgency, of significance, of something extremely important happening in a small, rural North Carolina county seat.  I felt what I was about to do was important, very important for the future of this country and the world. I thought about poll taxes and voting rights, and the struggles for equality, legal and social, that each of us deserves. I thought about women’s right to vote and to choose, about borders and walls, about haves and have-nots.

I’m angry as I watch the national drama continue to unfold, unravel, and discharge the next epithet: Bad Hombres and Nasty Women. Political theatre has become the Theatre of the Absurd, and I wish for something better, more redemptive, something that will heal our differences and take us forward together.

And, I’m afraid of a post-election aftermath where we now tolerate personal attacks that turn from verbal to violent, led by a candidate who will not accept a process in which he has failed.

But, mostly, I urge all to vote, to make your voice heard through your ballot as we continue this important tradition of peaceful transfer of power, a tradition that makes democracy work and prevents anarchy.

From One Nasty Woman, Norma

 

 

 

Making Mexico Color Photos into B&W: Chapel Hill Camera Club

Last night the Chapel Hill (North Carolina) Camera Club held a free workshop using Silver Efex  Pro2 taught by Mark Lipton. It was fun to select a few of my color photos and work with the (free) Google program that then becomes an editing option in Lightroom.

smile

I want to share these with you.

Ocotlan Market Woman, 2013

Ocotlan Market Woman, 2013

Mark first recommended that we watch the video Seeing in Black and White by Eileen Rafferty. It’s almost two hours long, but well worth it to understand that color can be a huge distraction from seeing the texture, composition and artistic quality of a photograph.

Tlacolula market scene. 2015. Color.

White sombrero. Tlacolula market scene.

Color evokes emotion. Our eye goes directly to the intense red, blue, orange or green and fools us into thinking that a photograph may be better than it really is.

White sombrero. Tlacolula market, post-processing with Silver Efex

White sombrero. Tlacolula market, post-processing with Silver Efex

Mark says that with B&W photography we can see the layout, the diagonals, the triangles, the textures. But, there are times when color has much more of an impact than black and white, is more effective. It’s up to us to decide!

Bird cage, Cuetzalan del Progreso, Puebla

Bird cage, Cuetzalan del Progreso, Puebla

The questions to ask are: Can a black and white photo serve me more artistically? Can an unremarkable color photo have greater impact as a B&W image? Does this image need/want a sense of history or timelessness — enough to choose B&W over color? Does it offer an aspect of artistic abstraction in shape and structure?

Bird cage. Cuetzalan del Progreso, Puebla. Silver Efex post-processing

Bird cage. Cuetzalan del Progreso, Puebla. Silver Efex post-processing

Color is information. The stronger the color image, the more the brain loses the detail of texture and shadow.

Lila Downs in concert, Oaxaca, Mexico

Lila Downs in concert, Oaxaca, Mexico

In using B&W and to convert from color to B&W, we have to begin to think in hues and tones. Is there enough tonal differentiation in the photograph or will greens, reds, blues just blend into the same shade of grey when it’s converted?  Is there enough contrast? Which filters do I want to use? What b&w film and speed do I want to simulate?

Lila Downs in concert, Oaxaca, Mexico. Post-processing with Silver Efex

Lila Downs in concert, Oaxaca, Mexico. Post-processing with Silver Efex

Photographers must be aware of light, dark, shadow. There is no saturation in B&W photography. There is glow. Using the sliders in Silver Efex can enhance the glow, says Mark, but we must be aware of keeping a photo natural.

Compare these photos I’ve worked with today and let me know which you prefer — the color or B&W version? Why?

I’m just learning Silver Efex so experimenting with the post-processing software is more about getting a feel for what it can do.

 

Mexican Immigrants Help North Carolina Friends Dig Out, Clean Up After Hurricane Matthew

I got this message today from dear friends who live near the tributaries of the Cape Fear River in North Carolina. The important note is that they are safe, and that they could employ Mexican immigrants (we don’t ask if they have papers) to help them dig out.

THANK YOU,  to the Mexicans who travel here in search of jobs, we appreciate your work ethic and desire to pitch in, to send money home to your families, and we honor and respect you.

Here’s part of the message:

“Most folks who know us are aware that our 12 acre property was under water during Hurricane Fran 20 years ago, the day we were to move into our new home. There has been occasional minor flooding since then. Although we have carried flood insurance, we have never had to use it until now.  This time was a little different with the creek behind our property overflowing upstream and coming across the front yard, in addition to the back 3 acres flooding over the lower banks.  The house, which is slightly higher than the ground, quickly ended up as an island amidst rushing water on all sides.  Two neighbors who came down to offer help were also stranded in the house with us when we finally called 911.  The 4 of us and our 2 goats were evacuated via a Swift Water Rescue motor boat.

It must have been quite a sight! Unfortunately our youngest goat drowned earlier.  That tragedy has been the worst part of all.  The 12 chickens spent the night in our upstairs bathroom and the dog and 2 cats stayed together in the upstairs bonus room.  The 2 horses were on high ground and entertained by all the excitement and extra loving. Our neighbor is the anchor for the nightly news so once again the farm was featured!

Fortunately water did not come directly into the house.  Yesterday there was 2 ft. of standing water in the crawl space beneath the house, about 2 inches from the sub-flooring.  After pumping 24 hrs. we still have about water so are unable to assess the full damage to the flooring.  We do know that we lost ducts, installation, all of our HVAC units and a hot water heater.  The yard and pastures were littered with debris.  2 freezers we used for animal feed storage floated away as well as the chicken coops and tack shed inventory. Minor water is in the vehicles.

God mysteriously touches us when we least expect it. We located 8 Hispanic migrant workers who were out of work due to the loss of the  tobacco crop.  Greeting us with grateful and smiling faces, they worked all day yesterday and today to rebuild fences and shelters for our animals.  

It is a beautiful Fall day and hard to believe that so much has happened here.”

I’m so happy my friends are safe. That they have help. And, that I am here to vote against the wall.

On The Road, Again: Leaving Oaxaca, Hello North Carolina, California and India

If I had Willie Nelson’s voice and guitar picking skills, I’d give you a personal performance. But, my elementary school glee club (mandatory) teacher asked me to mouth the words. You might like to hear him sing, once again.

Willie Sings: On The Road Again

I left Oaxaca early this morning and now overnight in my Mexico City hotel. Tomorrow morning I take off for North Carolina to vote. Yes, VOTE! I’m doing this in person because I want my vote to count this year. I have to do a legal voter registration name change in person before I can do early voting. This is really important because NC is a swing state. My vote matters.

See who I’m voting for!   As if you couldn’t guess. Smile.

There’s also Colie and Brad’s wedding this weekend. She’s my dear friend Hollie’s daughter and I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I also get time with all my great NC pals Kathryn, Hettie, Karen and Steve, Cindy, Chris, Kate, Helen, Anne, Jo-Ann and Ted, Debbie, Judith, Robin, Kaola, Lew and Olive, and so many more …… Can’t wait.

The children's comparsa, Muertos

The children’s comparsa, Dia de los Muertos, Oaxaca

Next, I go to California to visit my son, and then our family gathers to lay the headstone on our mother’s grave in Santa Cruz. This will mark the first anniversary of her death on November 15, and in our religious tradition there is an important ceremony of remembrance.

The Old Cemetery, Xoxocotlan--Day of the Dead

The Old Cemetery, Xoxocotlan–Day of the Dead

My plan is to build a Day of the Dead — Dia de los Muertos Altar in North Carolina to remember my parents. I have the copal incense and photos packed in my luggage.

Muertos altar, November 2, 2015, remembering my dad

Muertos altar, November 2, 2015, remembering my dad

On November 15, I fly to New Delhi, India, where I’ll meet up with Fay Sims from Vancouver, B.C., Canada. Oaxaca has given me many blessings. I met Fay in Oaxaca and we have traveled to Chiapas together, so we figured we would make good travel partners for India. We’ll be there for a month, focusing on the textile culture of Gujarat, including block printing with indigo dyes.

Example, Gujarat Block Print with Indigo

My first cousin Sharon and my aunt, my mother’s younger sister now age 98, also live in Delhi, and I’m excited to see them again after a many year lapse.

I plan to blog, photograph and write about Indian and Oaxacan textiles from a comparative point-of-view.

When I return to Los Angeles, my son and I will fly together back to Oaxaca just in time for Christmas.

You’ll hear from me intermittently over the next few weeks as I settle into living out of a suitcase once again.

Participate in the Dia de los Muertos–Day of the Dead 5-Day Photo Challenge at Mexico Travel Photography.