Care for a Lemon Sorbet?

...Then look out for this woman in Puebla.

...And here is the male version:


When people ask me what it is like to live in Puebla I never know what to say, but I think this gives a bit of an idea of what a day in the city can be like.
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Santo Angel Custodio

Yesterday I woke up at 5 am by the sound of fireworks. For a moment I was confused; It was not New Years Eve, nor did it seem like any of our neighbours were having a party...

Then I realized: The fireworks did come from one of our neighbours across the street; the Church of Analco, who was beginning a 24 hour celebration of the patron saint of the Barrio de Analco; Santo Angel Custodio.

The fireworks continued all day until it was time for the religious procession dedicated to the saint. When they passed by our front door I had to go out and join them. Whatever religion you are, it is hard not to feel touched by the magic created in these processions.

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The Dream Day Poem by Jesús Herrera

A while ago I got a Dream Day poem from a young poet called Jesús Herrera in Puebla. It was written in Spanish and I was going to translate it into English once my Spanish had improved. But before I was finished with my course, a young journalist from Mexico City; Gabriel Infante, who had found Proyecto Zapato on Youtube, read my blog, discovered the poem, offered to translate it for me. It was of course an offer I could not resist.

Thank you Jesús and Gabriel for your contribution to the Dreamdayproject!

Here comes the Dream Day poem translated into English:


How dramatic can perfection be?

How monotonous or
ephemeral?

Could I contemplate the ether
of the fountains

and the grid of a dream
of exiles;

What justices that claim
nostalgia

without gods perception
or the empty chairs,

dismantle the wooden
coffins

and protects their smile against
melancholic beams

and shoes stories,
without laces on the asphalt

nor residual of slaves,
to abolish the oblivion in each

estimated steps,
reciting to new vicious

of wolfs and
veiled anarchists

in this battle against,
human structure,

dream day…
dismantle dictatorship
and all the utopias


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Sounds from Puebla

This is a beautiful song which I heard in Puebla some time before I went back to Sweden. They say that a picture says more than a hundred words, but doesn´t a sound say more than a hundred pictures?


(click here to watch more videos on Youtube>>)

This is what I sometimes hear when I open my front-door and what you should listen for in Puebla if you are hungry and want to have some empanadas:



And if you have a crave for ice-cream? Try to locate this man shouting "Heladoooo!":



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El Proyecto Amor Ya Empezó

The Love Project (El Proyecto Amor) has officially started!

Day 1
Location: Parque de Analco, Puebla, Mexico
Date: June 26, 2009
Time: Noon


Couple 1: Fernando and Claudia
Have been a couple for 8 months

(Continue reading to meet the other first couples in Proyecto amor)


Couple 2: Raul and Laura
7 years



Couple 3: Gabriela and Alan
11 months
"Trust is the most important thing to make a relationship work"



Couple 4: Valeria and Paco
3 years
"The key to a good relationship is to be yourself and not pretend to be somebody else..."



Couple 5: Nelly and Jafet
1 month
"Trust is the most important thing"



Couple 6: Catherine and Raul
4 months
"Trust"



Couple 7: Gustavo and Ana
Have been friends for many years and recently started dating
"El amor es el motor de cada día"-Love is the engine of every day

..Y que bueno es perder
lo que amamos

porque lamentablemente
solo así se descubre
lo que amabamos..."


...and how good to lose the one you love

because sadly
only like that, we are able to discover
what we once used to love...

After telling Ana and Gustavo a little bit about my project, Gustavo took up his cellphone and read out loud some of the love poems that he had written. It was a very touching moment to sit there on a bench with two strangers listening to a love poem in the middle of the day.

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Dreamdayproject Taking a Break

Maybe it was while trying to translate that Dreamday poem from Spanish to English, that I realized I needed to learn more Spanish to be able to develop my projects here in Mexico.

After some searching on the Internet the other day, I came a cross an intensive course at the Spanish Institute of Puebla and today was my first day back as a student again. Our kitchen table is now filled with grammar books rather than Dreamday notes and it was with both excitement and sadness that I put aside my Dreamday work for a while.

During the following four weeks I will be both a student and a teacher, making me become something like a 1 % Dreamday worker rather than the 100% one that I used to be. It is short break, but a necessary one I think.

I hope to be back soon with many new stories and experiences to write about, and until then,

Hasta Luego!

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Grammar Lesson

My endless days as a Dreamday worker are long gone. However, topics like dreams or shoes still seem to appear even in my new life as an English teacher.

I was having an oral exam yesterday with a boy, about 10 years old. I was asking him to make up sentences using difficult words that he had been studying during the last lessons. After a bit of reading and pronounciation exercises, I asked him to make up a sentence using the words "Fewer than". The boy was quick and said:

"I have fewer toys than my brother."

The sentence was correct of course and so we moved on to the next words; "Less than", which is supposed to be used for uncountables, such as sugar, coffee etc.

I asked him if he could make up another sentence using "Less than". The boy thought for a few seconds and then said:

"My dad has less shoes than my mum."

Hm, I said, are you sure? Isn´t it possible to count shoes?

No, he said, my mum has so many shoes it is impossible to count them...

I guess you just have to give him right for that, don´t you?

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A Dream (Thurs-)Day Outfit

New habits were quickly formed as the swine flu hit Mexico a couple of weeks ago. In the school where I work, we all had to wear those mouth covers in class. That was before the school closed for a week. (It is impossible to have a normal conversation wearing one by the way!)

Those mouth covers have been funny to follow; At first they were just blue and plain. Everybody seemed to be wearing the same ones, and it was nothing more than a simple mouth cover. However, pretty soon people didn´t seem to like the fact that they all looked the same; I guess they wanted to express their personalities somehow. And so they did through their mouth covers.

Some people wore home made versions (made out of a dish cloth for example). Others went for more stylish ones in elegant white, made out of exclusive fabric. I even spotted a few ones that looked like gas masks with a small ventilation in the front. I think those were worn by very serious people, probably with good market connections. And then there were of course the individualists; the ones who started to make drawings on their masks, for example a moustache or a big smile.

This week all the classes have been running as normal again and the mouth covers have disappeared (I almost miss them!) and instead the "gel" era has begun. You can now find an antibacterial gel in every reception or at the counter in various cafes. At my school the students must stay in line to have their hands cleaned with this gel before entering the classroom. Who knows if all this really works, but I guess we all need to have something to believe in.

Tomorrow it is Thursday again by the way; that is pink t-shirt day as you might already know. I forgot to tell you last time that the five day uniform that all the teachers must wear, also includes pants and shoes in different colours; Pink t-shirt is supposedly best combined with grey pants and black shoes. It is my boss´s favorite combination he told me, so I assume Thursdays have become somewhat of a dreamday to him...

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How I Found A Dreamday Poem

Sometimes when you are searching for something in particular, it might happen that you walk right into it, but because it didn´t come to you as you had imagined, and the appearance wasn´t exactly what you had expected, you end up walking past it while your mind is entirely focused on finding that very same thing.

There are probably thousands of situations like that, passing us by without our notice. It was just about to happen to me yesterday but luckily something made me stop for a second.

It all happened when I was on my way to the bank. I was crossing the main square with music in my ears and the laptop under my arm. I walked past the big fountain, looking at the shoe polishers that I had planned to interview later this week. I was thinking about my projects and how to proceed and I was thinking about the Dreamdayproject. Had I collected my last Dreamday in Oaxaca? Was it time to move on and leave the project to its destiny?

While I was in the middle of these thoughts I noticed two teenagers walking up to me. One of them was making a gesture to take of my headphones. At first I was slightly irritated. I was right in the middle of a great song* and I was in a hurry to go to the bank and later to the café so that I could get started with my projects. But as the polite girl I am, I took of my headphones and turned to the two guys. After all I didn´t have that many people to talk to during a normal day. I guess it wouldn´t hurt to hear what they had to say.

-Would you like a poem? The same guy asked me.

-A Poem?

-Yes, a poem. I will write it for you now.

-Hm, I am not sure...

(The guy made a disappointed face. )

-That is what everybody says! Nobody wants my poems!

I looked at him and in the same moment I realized something. Was this how people saw me when I walked up to them asking them about their Dreamday? Were they perhaps in the middle of their favorite song too?

-Ok, so how does it work? I said.

-You can choose the topic yourself and then I will write a poem to you in a couple of minutes. In return you can just give me a smile or maybe some money if you want...

-Alright I said, but let me just go to the bank first, I don´t have any money on me.

-Are you sure you will come back?

-Yes, I will be here at the fountain again in five minutes.

-You promise?

-Yes!

On my way to the bank I continued listening to that very same song while going through the conversation with the young guy in my head. What a brilliant idea to write poems and sell. If there are no jobs, just create one. I have never seen this creativity among people anywhere else than here in Mexico and I loved it. And of course I wanted a poem. But about what??

I bought myself a bottle of water and then I walked back to the fountain. The guy was still there with his friend. We sat down on a bench next to the fountain and started to talk.

-You know on my way to the bank I thought about the idea, I said. And you know what? I realized I would very much like a poem actually. It also fits perfectly into a project that I am working on right now.

-Ah yeah?

-Yes, I would like you to write a poem on the topic: A Dreamday. Could you do that?

-Sure! He said and took up his notebook.

While he was writing we chatted for a while about his poems and about the people he had met. He told me his business was slow and that nobody wanted to pay for his poems.

-People think that art is for free, even the guys selling lollipops make more than me...

As he kept writing I talked to his friend. I told him about my projects and what a great coincidence this whole thing turned out to be. I found a couple of stickers that I had forgotten in my bag since the presentation in Oaxaca and gave them to them.

By now the poet was done with his work and he started to read it to me. I wasn´t exactly sure about what it all meant, but I think I liked it. Afterwards he gave me the written copy. I thanked him, gave him some money in return and said good bye. Then I continued walking towards my favorite cafe at the corner of the square, ordered an ice tea, and started to write it all down.

The first Dreamday poem had been written and incorporated into the the Dreamdayproject. I can´t believe I almost missed it.






*) While writing this post I realized that the song that I had been listening to, was called "Drömmarna" (The Dreams) by Freddie Wadling. Life is full of coincidences isn´t it?

Listen to 30 seconds of "Drömmarna" by Freddie Wadling

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Don´t Worry my Plants are Doing Fine!

This morning I went to one of my regular cafes to write about my trip to Oaxaca and the Dreamdayproject presentation on Thursday night. I had brought my computer and I drank my cup of coffee as usual, but as the number of blue masks increased around me, the Dreamdayproject seemed less important.

So far there has been no reported cases of the swine flu in Puebla, but nevertheless, none of the waiters hurried to my table to pick up the change this time. After packing my things, I took up my camera and went for a short walk around the square before heading home to my plants again.






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A House of Dreams

Today it is time for a serious matter to be handled. It is written to you from a serious place; La Biblioteca Profética.




If you know me you might have heard this story before. For those of you who haven´t this is a story about a house. But it is not just any house. It is a house filled with dreams and hopes, like most other houses I guess, but at least to me, this one has a very special meaning. I have been walking around with this story in my head for a long time. Now it is time to write it all down.



I came to think of the house once again when sitting by the kitchen table in my new home in Puebla, Mexico. It is a similar kind of house even if they were built on different sides of the Atlantic and during different centuries too. The house in Puebla is much bigger and better preserved than the house I am about to tell you about. But they have the same masonry walls covered with cracks and flaking paint. They might appear rough and old to some but I think these cracks give the house a personality. They tell a story of a house that keeps a secret within its walls. A house where people have come and gone as the colours of the walls have changed. The secrets of my new house I might never know, but I am sure they are hidden somewhere in those cracked walls.






The house of dreams that carries the secrets of my family, stands on an island in Greece called Salamina. It is a small white house looking almost like a little sugar cube. It has two windows facing the road. They look like two big and brown eyes turned towards the street as if they were waiting for someone. This house carries many stories and memories, but most of all, it is a house of dreams that were no yet fulfilled. Or atleast that is how I often think of it.

One of my earliest memories of this house is from a summer when I was about five or six years old. We had just arrived to the island with our blue Volvo and I was sitting in the back seat with my brother, both very eager to arrive to our destination. When we drove up on the dusty road I had the little sugar cube on my left side. I remember asking my parents if the big house to the right of the street was ours. You see, from the summer before I had completely forgotten what the house looked like. They laughed and pointed towards the small house to the left instead.


I knew this house was special. But exactly why I didn´t quite understand at that time looking at the old house and the wild garden. There are some moments in life that you can never erase. This is one of them. The dream was not exactly what I had imagined it to be, yet many years later, this house came to be my own house of dreams. And that feeling has come to follow me all my life. That the dream itself is often a disappointment in the moment when you are standing right infront of it. Its greatness takes years to understand.




My parents bought this house when they were newly married. Or rather, they never bought the house itself but the land it was on. The house was a bonus. It did not have water nor electricity but still we used to stay there for a month almost every summer when I was a child. We had to carry water in buckets to use for cooking and brushing our teeth at night. I remember one summer it was so hot we even took our beds out and slept right under the stars. Can you really do that I remember thinking. But my mum said it was cooler outside and so there we were with our beds under the sky.

I remember playing with my toys, a big brown teddy bear and a red dog, while my parents were sitting around the table with their friends and my brother was reading comic books. I remember the cups and the porcelain as they were museum objects carrying their own stories and memories. Right between the two brown windows there was a purple bouganvilla growing on the wall. I got it from my grandmother when I was baptized. And it is still there actually, like a little piece of me still attached to the house even after 31 years.


I was back in Greece last summer 2008 and during the fall of 2003. During those five years, and during the 20 years that have passed since the last summer we spent there, many things have happened in my life. But the house looks all the same. The garden might be a little wilder, the trees are bigger, the walls look weaker, but still it is as if time stood still in there. New and modern houses have been built around the house. And the house of dreams stands there in the middle, surrounded by modernity like a reminder of another time.


When you step inside the house it first looks as if someone just walked out. The washing liquid is there, the cups that were just washed, are standing on the sink left to dry. A pile of magazines on a little table, as if someone just placed them there after finishing reading. The pillows on the beds. The white curtains with roses on that sway as you open the door. And there is the teddy bear and the red dog. After a while you notice a thin layer of dust covering everything and you notice time for the first time. I guess you could call this archaeology too. A modern Pompeji.








To me this house is a symbol of all the dreams of my family. The dream of another parallel life that could have existed. But things don´t always turn out the way you plan. And some dreams are never fulfilled. But sometimes the dream is a truth in itself and has its own purpose, being fulfilled or not. While dreaming of the future, we might have had our share of dream as it was, while living there, without water or electricity, brushing our teeth with water from a bucket under the stars at night. It might not be a sad story about dreams that were never fulfilled but about beautiful memories that once existed there. You can call them dreams or memories, but maybe they are the same thing. As the future and the past. And maybe time did in fact stand still in the house of dreams.





















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El Dreamdayproject En Mexico!

My new Dreamday office is called La Profética and lies in the heart of Puebla. They have good coffee, wireless internet and a fountain in the court yard. I might have travelled to the other side of the world, but this feels just like home. Time has come for a new Dreamday era. Live to you from Puebla, Mexico.


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