That rain, however, was enough to change two of my ideas. In a previous blog, I mentioned that flooding is not a problem here because there is no aboveground water. I was wrong. The cause of flooding here is the same that causes flash floods in parts of the U.S. When it rains hard over a period of time, the ground cannot absorb the water fast enough and it rises – fast. The torrential rains from Paula lasted about two hours, so there was plenty of water to rise. I heard the next day that some of the houses in low-lying areas were flooded with more than 3 feet of water.

My other misconception was that my house would be safe in case of a hurricane. I soon found out that it wouldn’t take long for my house to flood, and that, in case a hurricane should hit here, I would definitely have to evacuate. My front yard slopes down toward the house, which has a porch in the front. It looked like two swimming pools ready to overflow. Fortunately, the rain stopped before it did, but, for the first time since I’ve been in the house, the wind blew the rain toward the front of the house. There is a step down from the porch into my living room. Because of the force of the wind and driving rain, the water simply flowed across the porch and into my living room. The back yard also looked like a swimming pool, and, although water did enter one previous time under the back door, it didn’t this time.

There was talk that hurricane Richard might arrive here today, but the last I heard, it’s going to pass south of us, so we will be spared once again. The hurricane season ends in Nov., so we should soon be safe until next year.

I also mentioned previously that the climate had changed here and that a lot of people were sick. This past week I was among them. There’s a flu that’s been going around, and it laid me low for most of the week, but I’m feeling better now, although I’ve still got a bit of a cough at times, and so I will resume classes tomorrow.

I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned some of the toys that kids here enjoy, many of which some of us enjoyed as well when we were younger. Especially in the spring, one sees lots of kids flying kites, most of which are homemade. A lot of the boys like tops, the kind with the string that wraps around and they hurl to the ground. Two weeks ago I was invited to a friend’s house for lunch. After lunch, her three kids went into the back yard to play marbles with some friends. Last week, for the first time, I got to try a homemade slingshot. When we went to the market a little later, I saw them for sale there. I wonder what my son would say if I got one for my grandson. He’s too little to use it now, but later…..

Last week, the bananas on the banana trees in the yard of friends were ready to be cut down. After they cut them down, they gave me quite a few. The problem is that it takes a couple of days for them to ripen, but then they all ripen at the same time and have to be used within two or three days. It’s customary here for people with fruit trees to share the fruit with their friends when that particular fruit is ripe, so that the fruit doesn’t go to waste. After lunch last week, we went out to the back yard and ate oranges fresh-picked from the tree. It’s funny. At home, one orange is sufficient; here we eat 3, 4, 5 – until we’re too stuffed to eat more. It’s amazing how different the fruit is fresh from the tree. They’ve been keeping me well supplied with oranges.

The next time I’m eating those wonderful, juicy oranges, I’ll think of all of you, eating your store-bought fruit, often tasteless, and I’ll be glad I’m here enjoying one of the little pleasures of life.

The bad news is that, because the weeds in my back yard had become a veritable jungle, one of the beasts decided to leave the jungle and enter my house. I came home from classes Mon. evening to find a tarantula on the inside of my back door – not exactly a visitor I had ever hoped to entertain. I wasn’t exactly sure what to do, so I grabbed the Raid (the kind for crawling critters) and sprayed it. It didn’t seem to want to die, sort of like in a nightmare, and I didn’t want to stay there alone with it. Besides, the smell of the Raid was bothering me, so I left home and sought refuge with some friends, who kindly took me in, invited me to stay for supper, then walked along back with me to assess the situation. One of them said the best way to get rid of tarantulas is to burn them. When we got back to the house, it was still alive, although barely, so they started a fire in the front yard, scooped it up with my dust pan, and threw it on the blazing fire. They also came two days later and, armed with their trusty machetes, got rid of the jungle in my back yard so that no more creatures would decide to pay me a surprise visit. By the way, the machete is pretty much the tool of all uses here. I don’t think they have lawn mowers or weed wackers – just machetes. Of course, most people don’t have lawns as we know them, either. I’ve only seen a couple of homes with real grass. Most people just have dirt with fruit trees, flowers, and bushes.

Back to the good news. A hurricane was supposed to have hit here last weekend, but it downsized to a storm and turned in a different direction. Other parts of Mexico have been seriously affected by the hurricanes that have arrived. Flooding has destroyed many lives and much property. Here, should a hurricane hit, at least there would be no flooding, because, as I mentioned in an earlier blog, there is no above-ground water. All water is subterranean, so the water just soaks into the ground. Any damage that occurs here is caused by wind.

Classes are moving along. Most of the kids seem to be excited and are a lot of fun to teach.

Another thing I’ve noticed here is that when there’s a torrencial downpour, there is little traffic on the streets. Since many people walk or ride bikes or motorscooters, they simply find shelter and return to their activities when the rain stops. The streets here are much worse than we’re used to and have a lot of potholes, which fill with water. There’s usually a lot of dirt and mud in the streets after a rain as well. The street that the CFCA office is on is at the bottom of two hills. I used to live up the hill on one side. Now I live up the hill on the other. Unfortunately, when there is a heavy rain, that section of the street completely floods, and it’s impossible to cross. Even the cars get stuck there sometimes. About a week and a half ago there was a bad storm that no one could go out in to get to class (including me). After the storm, I left the house for the next class, but the street was completely blocked off, and even the sidewalks were covered with water. Things dry off fast here, though, so the water doesn’t lay long, and it’s gone by the next day.

Classes started on Sept. 6, and I’ve got a pretty full schedule. There are some classes in the mornings, but that’s when most of the students go to school, so most of the classes are in the afternoon from 4 to 7. I’ve got two groups each of high school and junior high students and one each of grades 2 through 6 plus a combined class of 4th and 5th graders, because there were too many enrolled for those grades to do just one class each. As we’ve reviewed the material we covered before, I’m surprised at how much they’ve remembered. Most of the elementary kids have actually forgotten very little, and they seem happy to be back.

Mexico celebrates it’s Independence Day on Sept. 16, so we had a holiday this past week. The kids were off school Wed., Thurs., and Fri., and we didn’t have classes Thurs. or Fri. The holiday starts with what’s called the Grito (the yell or shout), because that’s what they call what started the revolution. It was at 11 o’clock on Wed. night, so I didn’t go, but I’m told they ring the bells. The parade was at 8:00 on Thurs. morning. It starts early because of the heat and was over by 9:3o. There were various groups including most of the high schools, some soldiers, the Red Cross, etc., and bringing up the rear were a number of the men from the ranches on their horses.

Yesterday I ate lunch with some friends. After lunch, they went out into the backyard and picked some oranges and grapefruit. Talk about fresh. Here, however, they are bright green rather than orange and yellow. They also eat them differently from the way we do. They like to peel the oranges, cut them in half, and sprinkle them with salt or chile. One was shredding the grapefruit into a large bowl. Then she was going to add oranges and sprinkle them with lemon juice and chile. I don’t do chile, so I just ate my orange the good old American way – plain. The grapefruit here seem to be sweeter than ours and don’t need sugar. They were surprised when I told them how we usually eat them. They put salt or chile on a lot of their fruits, including pineapple.

I’ve been reading a book on Mexican history, which starts by telling about the indigenous cultures. It’s interesting to see how many of the things have carried over from those early times. For example, the book mentioned that the three food staples were corn, beans, and squash, which is still true today. The corn is usually ground into a dough and formed into tortillas. The book also mentioned that the ancient Mayans did not have utensils to eat but used three fingers of their right hand and tortillas. Even though the people today have utensils, most of the time they eat the same way. They tear off a small piece of tortilla, form it into a scoop, hold it with two fingers and use a third (usually the index finger) to help scoop the food into the tortilla, which they then eat. They even use the tortillas to eat soup, scooping up the broth with the tortilla as though it were a spoon. By the way, the corn tortillas made by hand over the open fires have a completely different and much better taste than the flour tortillas. At least that’s my humble opinion, which is also shared by many others here.

We are in the midst of the rainy season here, another of many firsts for me. It rains almost every day, often several times a day, and often the rains are torrential, but none of them has lasted long. Sometimes it’s only a minute or two and only a sprinkle. Other times it’s a downpour lasting 10 minutes or so. A couple of days ago, some friends and I stood in their doorway and watched waves of rain. We could see it approaching down the street. It would pour for a minute or two, then almost stop. The same thing happened numerous times in a row before it finally stopped. I’m told that the rainy season here runs from June to Nov. Because of the rain, things are much greener here than when I was here before, and there’s not nearly as much dust. It’s also a lot hotter and more humid. Fortunately for me, the summer at home was extremely hot and humid, much more so than usual. Since I have no air conditioning in my house at home, I’m somewhat more used to the weather here. When I originally arrived last Nov., it was only 32 degrees when I left home, so it was somewhat more difficult for me to adjust to the climate here, although it wasn’t as hot and humid in Nov. as it is now.

I had also gotten reaccustomed to the usual outside noises at home. Since my house it located on a busy street and close to the airport, there’s plenty of noise. Here, I live on a side street, and, although there’s plenty of traffic and other noises during the day, it tends to get very quiet at night, so it took a night or two to get used to the silence again.

I looked out my bedroom window the other day and realized that the view looks rather like a picture you see of the tropics. Although my yard is relatively small and only has one tree, the neighbors have lots of trees and other plants in theirs. Most people here tend to have fruit trees of various kinds planted on their properties. I’m not sure what all the trees are that they have in theirs, but the two outside my window have large bunches of bananas growing on them. That’s an easy tree to identify, as are the coconut palms. There are many other fruits and vegetables common here, however, that I have never seen or heard of. Although we tend to import many fruits and vegetables in the U.S., I’ve still encountered and heard of many others that I don’t think we do. The other day I got to try three new fruits: zaramuyo, tuna, and guaya. It’s rather hard to describe some of them. I’ll have to start carrying my camera around just in case I get to try something new. Zaramuyo is full of seed which you pull out one by one and suck the fruit off. The fruit itself is white and very sweet. Tuna is also full of seeds, but they’re much smaller. The person who gave it to me to try told me to eat the seeds, but they were very hard, and it didn’t appeal to me to do so. The guaya I didn’t care much for. They’re sort of an oval shape, the texture reminded me of what an eyeball must feel like, and they’re rather sour.

The father/father-in-law of some of my friends died last Tues. Most people here, because of their economic situation, do not use funeral homes as we do. They are used more to supply some of the articles needed, which I will describe as we go, and to transport the body and do the actual burial. After he died in the hospital, his body was taken back home, and the wake was held in the home. It started in the evening and went on all night. The funeral home supplied the casket and the supports for it, the tall candles and crucifix that were placed at the head of the casket, and chairs for the people who attended. When some friends and I got there, several people were there seated outside, and the priest was there praying with the family inside. We left about 10:30, and people came and sat with the family at various times all night long. The next day family members served a luncheon at the house for family and friends before leaving for the cementary at 3:00. The hearse was there to take some of the family members, but it’s the custom that the family rents a bus to take the rest of the family members who don’t fit into the hearse and anyone else who wants to go. The bus was full, including the aisle. They go slowly through the streets, as we do, with the lights blinking. Someone led prayers at the cementary, then the body was removed from the casket and lowered into the sepulchre. The lid was placed on and cemented into place and flowers placed on top. The cementaries here look nothing like ours. The sepulchres are above the ground and placed one next to the other with no space between. The cementary is divided into sections with stone paths going between and around. There is no grass. Stones with the person’s names are placed on top. The particular cementary we went to is the one the poorer people use. People who cannot afford to buy a family space ask for public assistance to rent one for a couple of years, after which the remains are removed and given to the family, and the space is reused. If a family has bought a spot, the remains are still removed after for years and put into what looks almost like a little house on top of the sepulchre. Then the actual sepulchre can be used for another family member.

Many Mayan traditions have become mixed in with the Christian traditions here. Beginning the day of the person’s death, family and invited friends gather to pray for 8 days. After each time of prayer, the family serves light refreshments to the people who have gathered. On the eighth day, another luncheon is held. So far I have gone to all of them, and yesterday I was also invited to go early and eat lunch with the family. Where they have the prayers, they have a small table set up. On it they place candles, food, a bouquet of flowers from the garden, and a picture of Jesus. Underneath the table are small, fresh-cut branches full of leaves. The food and branches are from the Mayan tradition, when it was thought in days of old that these items would help the deceased to pass into the afterlife, or what would have been considered the heaven of the ancient Mayans. I’ve mentioned before that the Mayan language, dress, and culture are still alive here, and it’s interesting to see how aspects of their tradition have been incorporated into various aspects of the life of today.

This coming week I’m hoping to be able to get the names of all the students who want to come to my English classes, organize the classes, and post the lists so that the mothers can stop by the office and see what day and time their children have classes. I’m also expected to go to Panaba one day a week to give classes, so I’m hoping to also be able to get a list of names for the classes there. The space that I teach in is rather small, so I try to limit the classes to 10 or 12 students. It’s also better that way for practice purposes for them. If all goes as planned this week, I’ll be able to start next week, Sept. 6.

Please keep those prayers coming.

The evening of the Christmas party in Panaba, I arrived with the rest of the Tizimin staff. Shortly after our arrival, Lupita noticed me talking to someone and promptly came over to greet me. After talking to me for a couple of minutes, she asked whether or not her sponsor was also there. I guess she thought that he might be since the last time there had been a CFCA event (during the MAT), we had been there together. I told her that he was not there, that he had had to go home. Then she talked about him for a bit and about some of the things he had told her. Their sponsors mean so much to these kids.

When it was time for the program to begin, she led me to the front and showed me where to sit. She was the first performer on the program. Dressed in a red Santa’s helper outfit that her grandmother had made by hand, she sang a Christmas song. As I mentioned previously, she is a natural performer and is in her element on the stage. When she was done, she came and sat on my lap. As is the custom, Santa made his appearance and began handing out wrapped presents to all the sponsored. Lupita waited patiently as names were called, but when her brothers’ names were called and hers was not, she became a bit agitated and went to talk to the project director. I assume that her name must have been added toward the end since she had been sponsored so recently, but she was afraid that she was going to be forgotten. When her name was finally called, she breathed a sigh of relief and went to thank Santa and receive her present. Even though she was so excited about receiving it, she didn’t unwrap it. She already knew what it was – a new towel – and she seemed happy to just hold it.

Then it was time to eat. She went and got my food and brought it to me, then went and got hers. I couldn’t eat everything on my plate, so I planned to take it home. As she snuggled on my lap for the rest of the program, she noticed that I hadn’t eaten everything. I told her I was going to take the rest along home with me. “Oh,” she said, ‘you must have a refrigerator.” “Yes,” I replied, “I do.” Then, because I thought her question a bit unusual, I asked her if they had a refrigerator. “No,” she answered, “we don’t.”

Lupita’s grandmother, who was seated behind us, told her several times to get off my lap, that she was bothering me. I told her that she was not bothering me in the least, that she was  welcome to stay with me if she wanted to. It was quite chilly that evening, but neither Lupita nor her brothers had jackets on.  When I saw her shivering, I took my jacket off  and wrapped it around her. Before long I noticed that she had fallen asleep. Her grandmother also noticed and commented that that was what Lupita and her brothers were missing most, a mother. As she lay there contentedly sleeping in my lap, her still unopened present clutched to her chest, I found myself giving thanks that I could provide a lap for her to find comfort in and arms to hold her so that she felt safe enough and content enough to sleep, and I found myself wondering if she had ever before in her life received a Christmas present.

Before I introduce her, however, we have to go back to my first full week in Tizimin. As I mentioned in earlier blogs, when I started, I was going to Panaba two days a week in addition to teaching in Tizimin. The first time I went to Panaba to meet the students, some of the mothers had prepared a light meal for us, and we had some time to sit and talk. After we ate, a couple of the students were in the building playing. I started chatting with some of them a bit, and a couple of them began to question me about where I was from, what it was like where I lived, and how to say some words in English. Because they kept asking me more and more words, I pulled out some flash cards and decided to do an impromptu lesson. They were so interested that I finally had to chase them away after about an hour and a half because some other students had arrived for a different class.

The following week I spent with the MAT – the group of sponsors that had arrived to spend time with their sponsored friends. One of the days on the itinerary was to be spent in Panaba. One of the first to perform during the program for the sponsors was one of the young men who had been so interested in learning English the week before. When he was done singing, the moderator announced that a young girl who was not sponsored, but who was the sibling of two sponsored children, was going to sing. She was amazing. When Lupita sings, she puts her whole heart and soul into it, and she is very talented besides. Shortly after the program finished, one of the CFCA staff members came to me, told me that one of the sponsors had decided to sponsor Lupita as well, and asked me to translate for them. That’s how I met Lupita. She is 9 years old but with none of the shyness so typical of most of the other children I have met there. She is very well-spoken and intelligent and told us that she would like to go to the university to study biology. It was during the course of the afternoon we spent together that I found out that the other young man who had sung was her brother, and that one of the other boys who had been so intent on asking questions my first day in Panaba was another brother.

Later, in talking to the director of the project at Panaba, I learned a little of the background of these children. They live with their maternal grandparents because their mother likes men and money and has gone to Cancun where there is more of both. The children have different fathers. The mother refuses to contribute anything toward the care of the children, saying that she needs everything she earns. The grandfather is in a wheelchair because he has lost both legs to diabetes and an arm to an accident. The grandmother cannot work outside the home because she needs to care for her husband and the three children, who are 9, 11, and 12. Their primary source of income, therefore, is the sponsorship of the children. Having all three of the children sponsored will definitely have a major positive impact on the family.

I need to end here for the time being and so will continue with Lupita’s story in the next blog.

Even though I am at home right now, I am planning to start blogging again on a regular basis. I still haven’t told you the story of Lupita (not her real name), for example, which has been very much  on my heart since just before Christmas. While I am here, my daughter is going to teach me how to upload pictures into my blog, and I have lots of pictures to share with you. It will be interesting to see if the actual picture is anything like the mental image of things you may have formed from my verbal descriptions. As I mentioned early in my blog, I went on the Mission Awareness Trip to Merida in November to help with translation. A Mission Awareness Trip (MAT) is a trip that CFCA provides for sponsors (and anyone else interested) to meet their sponsored friends and see how CFCA actually functions in the field. I will be going on a MAT from May 8-15 to El Salvador to spend some time with my own sponsored children. This will be the third time I have visited them, and each time it gets more exciting as I get to know them better and see the progress each of them is making. Our letters have also become much more personal since we have met. My daughter Kate and friend Cheryl will be joining me there. Cheryl has gone with me each time I went, but this will be Kate’s introduction to CFCA’s actual work. They will be flying down together, but I have to leave on Mon., May 3, to return to Tizimin because my flight leaves from down there since I had not planned to be at home. When I came home, I had only planned to be here for a couple of weeks, and so I left everything in Tizimin.  I should also have lots of stories and pictures when I return from the MAT.

Later this week I will introduce you to Lupita, and next week (I hope) I will start sharing some of my pictures with you, so stay tuned – the saga of Tizimin continues.

The party was combined with a meeting of the mothers to discuss some of the problems and needs within the colony. The scholarship student who is assigned to that neighborhood had games planned for the kids, but a sudden rain shower changed those plans. Fortunately, many of the showers tend to be brief here – just a passing cloud or two – so things resumed as soon as the rain let up. There were presents for all those celebrating their birthdays. The presents varied depending on what the particular need or want of the person was. Most received some kind of clothing. Others may have received some necessary school supplies. The mothers chip in money to buy food.  A couple of them then cook at home whatever needs to be prepared in advance, so there was a good meal and plenty of cake for everyone.

I went inside with a number of other people to eat because another rain shower was threatening, so I had a chance to see the house from the inside, although, as I think I’ve mentioned in another blog, I try not to be obvious in looking around. The house consisted basically of one room. The wall was framed in what looked to be trees chopped down from the property and with the bark stripped off. Pieces of flat wood were nailed length-wise to the frame. The roof was thatch and did not fit tightly on the top of the walls. There was plenty of room for air to circulate. I understand that the houses with the thatched roofs are cooler in the hot weather, but I couldn’t help thinking how those people must have suffered when the cold front hit, dropping temperatures to 40 degrees or less. Remember, there is no heat in the houses. There were no windows, just two doors, one on each of the longer walls, and the floor was cement. There were three hammocks strung from the rafters and another wrapped around them. At an angle across one corner was a narrow shelf with a small TV. Under the shelf was a kitchen-style table covered with things they use daily. At an angle across another corner was another shelf with what looked like a few toiletry items. There was no other furniture. There were some bags hung on nails pounded into the wooden walls which, I assumed, contained their meager possessions. There were also a couple of cardboard boxes on the floor. One was partially open, and I saw clothes in it, so I assume that that’s where  they keep their clothes. A purse and a couple of cloth bags, which they may use for shopping, were hanging by strings from the rafters. Lighting was provided by one bare, low-wattage bulb hanging from the ceiling.

The “kitchen” was a covered, lean-to type structure attached to the house and entered through the door of the house opposite the front door. Another door led to the outside. The walls of the kitchen are simply poles (small trees chopped down and stripped of bark) lashed together. Again, the floor was cement and lighting was one bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. There was a small shelf nailed to one wall containing the little they had and an area in a corner for the open fire they cook with. I’m not sure if the table in the room was theirs, or if someone had provided it for the party. And that was it. No running water. No indoor toilet. None of the conveniences that we are used to. Here I am constantly reminded of all that we have and take for granted and the little that many of the poor here have and are grateful to have what they have. They are also very grateful for the support they receive from their sponsors, because it makes such a difference in their lives. The man at whose home the party was held received groceries for his present. He and his wife seemed very happy to have been able to host the party, because, as I said, otherwise he would not have been able to attend.

Two weeks ago I had the opportunity to experience a “Quinceaños”. For those of you who may not know, that’s when a girl turns 15, which is very special here. Most girls have a mass and a big party. The one I was invited to had the mass on Fri. evening. It was pretty much a regular mass, but the girl and her family processed in with the priest and sat in special seats at the front, apart from the rest of the congregation (not unlike at a wedding). At the end of the mass, the priest gave her a special blessing. Her party was the following afternoon, but was on a small scale. Many families rent one of the “locales” and invite hundreds of people (again, not unlike a wedding), but hers was just a small family dinner at home. She wanted to take a trip rather than use the money for a party. The family was all dressed up and there were decorations and a fancy cake. It was all very nice.

The following day I had a surprise outing. I had been invited to have breakfast at the house of some friends. When I got there, they told me that their brother and his family had arrived from Cancun the night before in his father-in-law’s truck and that we were all going to go to Ek Balaam, an ancient Mayan city, which has fairly recently been excavated and was only opened to the public a year or two ago. Thirteen of us piled into the truck (yes, things are very different here) and drove to Ek Balaam, which is located less than 30 min. from Tizimin. It was one of those perfect-weather days – lots of sun, but neither too hot nor too cold. It was quite impressive to see the pyramids. I wasn’t going to climb the big one, but ended up doing so. I paid for it the next couple of days with sore legs, but I have to admit that it was worth the price. It was amazing being up there and looking all around. I might mention here that it is no longer permitted to climb the pyramids at some of the sites because of people having fallen and died. The climb is rather steep, the steps are irregular, and there are no handrails. And did I mention that it’s HIGH? There were also some smaller ones that we climbed. It had apparently been a walled city, and some of the pyramids served as watchtowers. Unfortunately, there still were no plaques or pamphlets explaining some of the structures or the layout of the city. There is also a cenote (an underground spring) about a mile away, but we didn’t have time to go there. Cenotes are very common here in Yucatan, however, and I expect to see a lot of them eventually.

Another thing I saw here for the first time last week was a mill. It just so happens that there’s one about a half block from my house, and the mother of one of my students works there. People had told me that there are two types of tortillas – flour and corn – and that the corn tortillas are pure corn. I thought I misunderstood somehow, because when I saw the “dough” they make the tortillas from, it looks like dough, not like corn. Last week I found out that I hadn’t misunderstood at all. The women buy raw corn at a special store, then take it home and prepare it over the candela (open fire). They then carry it in a bucket to the mill to be ground. When I say “mill”, it’s not like we would think of a mill, a large factory, at home. The mill here is one room, about 12′ x 12′, with a table to set the bucket of corn on, a counter with a scale to weigh the “masa” and collect the money, and the mill itself, which is relatively small. Some of you may remember the old meat grinders that people used to attach to tables to grind meat. Someone would feed the meat into the opening at the top, then crank the handle, and the grinder would feed the meat through, and it would come out as ground meat. The machines I’ve seen in meat markets to grind beef are similar. The “mill” is very much like that and is electric. The woman operating the mill gradually pours the corn into the container. As she pours it, she occasionally stops to add some water. When the “masa” comes out at the bottom, it has the appearance of dough, but is, in fact, pure corn that has been ground with a bit of water. This ground corn is called “masa”. The amount they pay to have the corn ground is based on the weight of the finished masa. The women then carry it home and make tortillas. If I remember correctly, I talked about making tortillas in one of my earlier blogs. They just take a golf-ball size piece of masa, place it on a small piece of plastic wrap (to keep it from sticking to the table), and form it by hand into the tortilla. They then place the tortilla on the comal (the pizza-pan type utensil they use to cook tortillas) over the candela (the open fire) and cook them. They sure beat the store-bought ones that we get at home. They are very popular here, because they are both filling and inexpensive. They also retain the heat for a long time, up to a couple of hours. The tortillas often serve as eating utensils as well. Instead of using knives, forks, and spoons, it is not at all unusual for people to simply tear a tortilla into bite-size pieces, a piece at a time, and use the tortilla to pick up the food. Talk about disposable eating utensils! And tortillas are far more environmentally friendly than plastic.