Hearts and Pan Dulce

Just incase I hadn't mentioned it before, I dislike the cold. I know the earth needs it to be cold it is a part of her seasons but for someone that likes to be outside the coldness burns me.

A yearly place I like to stop by is at the Bath House Cultural Center for their El Corazon Exhibit. It's their twenty fourth year dedicating February to heart related art in all forms. This year the theme was music but what I observed was more of an exhibition of broken hearts. More popular than I expected in todays way of life. I killed two birds with one stone, not really. I've been wanting to make it that way to feed the birds. Stand there and observe the tip of the lake, a form of meditation for me. Yes it was freezing but I'm never right in the head to begin with. Have you ever seen birds fight over bread? Even birds are stingy and don't want to share.

I'd get more but I have to watch my figure

This weather is always perfect for pan dulce.  Before heading home I decided to stop at the Panaderia del Sol. I remember going there when they first started their journey. It has grown since then. I walked in and found out a lot of people had the same idea as me. The line to check out was long. but no one was complaining because the bread was worth waiting. I always mind my own business but no matter where I go people really like to talk to me. Sometimes I try to make small talk but it doesn't work, so I just go with it. I figure they could have talked to anyone but they chose to talk to me.

My favorite piece there, poetry nailed to the heart

A man was getting bread for his family. We began talking but the most important part of the conversation was when he mentioned where he was from. He thought I wouldn't know the place. He got really excited when I told him I'd actually been there. You see he is from the State of Guerrero. My parents are from Guerrero. I've been there plenty of times in my life time. That's when we connected and started sharing stories. He hadn't been in ten years and he finally went to bury his father last year. He knows of the dangers that go with visiting, as do my family. But it's my parents home town where they grew up. I love going but I know that me going would one day not allow me to never make it back to my home here. When people hear the word Guerrero and know where this place is they automatically know it is a place filled with beautiful things and dangerous minds. It is a place that holds one of the seven wonders of the world. That is why he hadn't been in ten years. I was born here and know the risks but when I can I accompany my parents. Here was a man standing in line next to me at a bread store waiting to buy bread. A man I had never seen but something told him to talk to me and we connected at that level. Who would have thought I would be standing talking to a man born in a different part of America on a day like today exchanging stories that only we both would understand. This is why I just allow people to talk to me no matter where I happen to be. We left by saying we would continue our conversation the next time we would meet. He mentioned how the conversation was getting good right when it was his turn to check out. Joked how pan dulce helps contribute to diabetes and yet we are all packed in here for this bread.

I'll share a story with you, one that only I know and had never shared before. My dad built his house in the state of Guerrero. His house started as a mud house and he slowly saved his money to make it a concrete house, then added rooms to it. The house is on a corner of two dirt roads. One of my favorite memories was when we would visit and hear every other morning waking up to a truck hitting his horn driving on these dirt roads stopping at the houses selling bread. It would be a beat up truck with a camper. No matter where I was that morning when he came I would gather my pesos and go out and look at the back of the truck. He would have all kinds of breads on the back of the bed of the truck. That's one thing I miss doing to this day. No matter if it's sweet bread or just a plain bolillo I have always loved bread.

I enjoy hearing stories, that's why I always say tell me a story. I don't mean gossip I mean a true memorable event in your life. It was a good memorable ending to my day. February the tenth, some where the stars were lined up perfectly for two beings to cross paths at a bread store and were also at one point in time standing in the State of Guerrero.