Gloria

I have been asked to post some passages from my book, A Cup of Coffee, about Gloria Castañeda. She has passed on, and all the memories of her must be kept alive. Thank you all for taking an interest.

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Passing one more white washed adobe surrounded by beautiful trees and flowers and a tall thick fence of nopal cactus they arrived at the house belonging to Goyo and pulled in under the shelter of their oak, the grandparent of all the oaks. The moment was here, the adventure well on it's way.

Before anyone had a chance to open the car doors a large heavy set women with graying straight hair came running out the kitchen door with her arms open repeating "Que Milagro, que milagro, America, America".
"Gloria, Gloria, como estas, mucho tiempo" said America as they came together in a tight embrace as they kissed each others cheeks. This was a special greeting and uncommon among the women America knew and met. Something reserved for a special friendship.

This friendship had happened unexpectedly for America and Gloria. It was not just an attraction or admiration for each others race but a recognition to both of them of something unnamable in common. When America had been in Mexico for a few years and had learned a little something about the country she was in she and her husband had given a ride to a friend of the people of de la Zorra and had discovered the secrets of this road and how to finally arrive at the land of the Kumeyaay. The friendship was instant and permanent.

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As many large oaks, this one here too was used for storage of many things, saddles, traps, a cheese press, hides, old baskets, a variety of hubcaps, potted plants and toys. The tree stretched clear from the house to the creek bed with some smaller oaks so there was a really large shaded area. Under this was the parking. There were six cars, four of which were in ruins and two which obviously hadn’t been used in a long while. These last had their windows, doors and trunks. There were only a few running pick-ups around at times, but nobody here had one. The Chevy Impala near the house had the windows rolled down with net over them and two babies were napping inside among the dried goods and clothes stored in it. The trunk had grain for the animals, the perishables and valuable tools. The key was in the lock ready to be removed for security when no one was here. The Ford Fairlane had it’s windows cracked open a little ways and inside were two baby kittens and some baby chickens. The car was full of junco, a rush type plant that they used here for their basket weaving. There was also the completed sausal baskets from the nearby stand of willow in the riverbed.

The house was a two room adobe with a newer adobe side room that was whitewashed. The side of the kitchen had long wooden shutters that hung over the large glassless windows. They made a porch effect when they were propped open. The yard was of hard packed uneven earth, swept tell the yard was much lower than the kitchen door stoop. Gloria said there had always been a home here, always. There were a few backless kitchen chairs out front. The potted plants and a vegetable and flower garden were in a small fenced yard connected to the house. The door from the new room and the door from the kitchen were both hand made of the Dutch door type as well as the one inside to the bedroom.

Gloria also liked Sky very much and warmly welcomed the company he brought. Her curiosity was at full pitch to see what they had brought her. Unlike the custom elsewhere here of casually and politely accepting gifts and things brought over and looking at them after the giver has left Gloria was anxiously waiting to see what could be in the trailer. Not wanting to keep her in suspense and just as anxious to witness her pleasure Sky dug into the trailer and lifted out her groceries. She checked each thing while nodding approval and handed them to some young children who had come cautiously up. Laughing and waiting to see what was next Sky handed her a sack of second hand clothes which she opened and started to hold in front of herself. Then America pulled out a wooden tool box and told Gloria to look inside. Here it was, the most exciting part for her, inside was a chocolate cake with coconut and almond frosting with real yellow daisies in a pattern across the top. Satisfied and telling America how incredible that every time they showed up they had a chocolate cake for her Gloria took her little finger and carefully tasted the frosting. She admired Americas ability to go to a store that had about the same thing that the store she went to had and that America could get the ingredients for this. But what she liked best was to eat it.

"Come in the house, I have hot coffee and we will eat cake. Goyo is helping brand cattle at the Bustamonte ranch". Gloria spoke in Spanish. Some of the older women only spoke Kumeyaay.

Inside the house was dim and hard to get use to the lighting. There was a couch that was reduced to disintegrating foam covered with sacks of plants, a rifle, corn husk, and some other larger objects covered with a piece of a dress. Near the windows was the table with a bouquet of wild flowers. There were chairs in various stages of falling apart. Next to this was a trastero of sorts. A strange narrower than usual hand made one. This held Glorias decorations, her debujas. In the corner next to an almost built in sink was the wood stove. This was like the ones in other houses here, adobe brick part way up and then a square metal box with a small door for the wood, which seemed to be handed out by the government for Indians. This stove partially vented out a pipe, the rest went under the eaves. Then there was the gas stove with one working burner and the oven door off and used for storage of food. On the wall next that the very old and possibly never painted Dutch door, the door to the bedroom which was open but to dark to see into. The walls were unpainted adobe, the floor gouged and pitted earth and the ceiling beams lost in smoke and cobwebs with a number of things hanging from them.
The coffee had been on for over an hour so it was near ready. This coffee, made from grounds was boiled thoroughly and then left on the wood stove to stay hot. The water was from the nearby community well. Sky brought in a folding chair from the trailer and Clemente stood outside near the door way while Francisco and his new friends took off with the pit bull and Raven to explore the area. Chapo came in the house and sat on an unoccupied corner of the couch out of the way. Over in the corner was a big yellow stripped tom cat named Juaquin. In general Mexicans don't seem to name their pets people names as it is disrespectful, but that didn’t apply here.

After the cake America had Clemente call the boys and bring in the picnic basket. Within an hour most everything in it had been eaten and cake served again to those who still had room for it which Gloria did and America had another small piece with her so they could laugh together about how much they ate and how good the cake was.

After this Sky and Clemente went out to the car and drove over a ways to a field with a small oak for shade and unhooked the trailer, then started to set up a camp. Francisco and the boys came over and started to stack rocks for a fire ring. The Indians trim the trees of their bottom and dead branches and leave them laying in place till they are needed so Sky would wait till one of the men came back to find out which area they could get their firewood from. America helped Gloria in the intense heat of the kitchen, bringing in water to heat on the woodstove to wash dishes while Gloria shredded dry beef with her fingers to make deer machaca for tonight’s meal. She had been given a job of cooking to do and was busily telling about it and chuckling, as she was in the habit of doing. This little chuckle came from the heart and soul. You could hear her ancestors in it.
Gloria talked on about the way she believed and lived between descriptions of her new job while America washed dishes.

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When all had settled down again America and Gloria walked over to the center of town. The main way there and most used was down a small steep ravine and back up again and then a narrow worn tricky path that came up on the side of a building. Gloria took out a key and opened the door. The building was made from rough thick planks of unpainted wood and had no windows. They stepped inside leaving the door totally opened and waited till their eyes adjusted to the darkness that hid the contents. It was the type of place that needed a lot of studying in the first place as it was interesting. This was the store. Here was the counter with scales hanging above and a bait box for the money. On the sparsely covered shelves there were supplies. Nescafe, manteca, cans of Vale Vita sauce, several different sizes of brown paper bags with sugar, clear plastic sacks knotted at the top with beans, salt and rice. Top ramen in the corner was stacked high, fifty pound sacks of sugar, corn, flour and more. There were a few kerosene lanterns, candles, horse shoes and nails, motor oil. No vegetables, no paper products but toilet paper. The two bottom shelves were lined with plastic milk cartons full of honey. This honey was a source of income to the people here and they gathered it themselves. It is a mild gold color honey pleasant to the taste.

In one corner was stored the finished baskets the women made. Both the junco and the sausal type were here in an incredible variety. They were all mixed in together as each women could tell their own or who’s it was. The women who stay at home are the ones who preserve most their cultural heritage. This art had almost been lost to the Kumeyaay when the government made an effort for them to revive it as a money making industry. These baskets that Glorias mother and a few of the oldest women remembered how to do were taught to the younger ones. It soon caught on as it really did make money. The baskets are sold to museums and stores here in Baja and in California and elsewhere little by little. The willow baskets were in various states of drying. This willow was gathered green and immediately put to use. The whole limb is used, leaves and all and wove together so tightly the basket can hold water. Some of these were only a few days old and green. Others showed their age by they’re stage of drying. Some near the bottom were a pinkish brown and worn smoothish by hands rubbing off the loose flaky leaves. These were in many shapes and sizes. There was one shaped like a cowboy hat and another like a pitcher. Many had lids, some were two feet wide and two or three foot tall. These big ones were heavy when they were fresh. Then there was the smaller collection of the ones done in the reeds. These were in two colors. The reed was dried and then soaked and then stripped with a razor blade of its outside sheath. This was a pale gold or oat color. The designs were in black. The finished reed was taken and wound into a circle, like a cinnamon roll, and soaked in a can with water and charcoal. These were handsome baskets varying in skill from maker to maker.
America picked out two gallons of honey and spread out the pesos Sky had given her earlier for this purpose. The price always varied on this honey from person to person and according to the situation. This amount Sky felt to be a fair price, not as much as some may have to pay but enough to feel he had been fair. Gloria put the money in her pocket and took a piece of paper from a box and carefully and seriously wrote all this down. Then with a sly smile reached under the counter and took out a pair of earrings made from the junco, woven into a plate like circle, and handed them to America saying happy birthday. Gloria knew her birthday was in August and had for many years nearing the end of summer managed to give America something. This time it was a double surprise as these earrings were a new product that they hoped to sell to the tourist when they had a chance to display there goods at various fiestas and cultural events in Ensenada and a few more towns here about. Gloria likes to say she did not know her birth date and so every day was a birthday for her.

Locking up the store and leaving the honey out front till they past that way on their return, they walked over to the adobe that was next to the camper shell beside the church. There were two young girls beside the door. The chief was working on the Allis Chalmers tractor with two other men. This chief had been elected and he would serve three years. The ones who volunteered as chief had only one year to serve. He must stay at home and there was no work for him, only the unpaid job of his title. Fortunately he was not married even though he was in his mid thirties and very good looking. He was Glorias brother and both of them were very politically involved in obtaining their rights with both countries.

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With your permission, the use of your kitchen please?”, asked America in the way this question was always asked here. All but personal belongings were communal. They did not possess their house they merely took use of it. The children were the communities responsibility, it was said it took a whole village to raise a child properly. So America used Glorias kitchen. It was dark and hot and smoky. The fire needed constant tending, opening the little drawer were small branch pieces were added to keep the fire even. All the road crew has eaten and the Indian men were out looking for a calf lost in the night.

As she prepared to start this meal she said to Gloria, “you rest, you just worked hard”. As America did each job, stoking the fire, rolling out tortillas, reheating the beans, silently from the back a young girl would come and discretely help while another slipped in at the right time to stoke the fire correctly. Gloria prepared the salsa cruda while she sat at the table. To everyone and almost to America herself it looked as though she had done all the work when actually she hadn’t. She really enjoyed this time of the visit and liked using this kitchen used by so many for so long.

The day got hotter and hotter and the time to leave approached. Only Gloria was there to say good bye to and it was time consuming. Gudrun stepped on the leaky honey gallon and got honey all over herself and had to be washed, more gas had to be found, Francisco at the last minute went chasing off after a badger, the trailer accidentally hooked onto an old car and it’s bumper and had to be pried loose and then after all that another cup of coffee at Glorias to rid the mind of the confusion of departure. It seemed to America that every time she came here something always held her to stay longer. Sometimes she thought how nice it would be to let it hold her and just stay. Stay forever