The Slow Making of a Dream: El Campo Elias Calles, The End of Camp
ZOELAB DAY 24
After six months of camping, and seven months of pregnancy, we decided that we needed to find a house to live in for the end of my pregnancy and the beginning of parenthood. I had met a woman who had taken pity on us, and offered to let us live in a casita on her property in another town in exchange for basic caretaking. We moved in and soon made ourselves a little nest. (For a post about the summer of 2009 and Jimena see Day 1.) A few weeks after Emilio was born Hurricane Jimena hit Baja a few hundred miles north of where we were. The destruction wasn’t devastating in our area, though there was some destruction. After the hurricane, which was a few months after we had left camp, we decided to go back see what had happened to our land. We had half abandoned our camp--we had been in such a rush to make a home for ourselves indoors we hadn’t even bothered to pack away our tents. We had left them out in the open to disintegrate in the sun, and then be blown around by the storm. Everything was a mess.
It was hard to see our beloved camp so destroyed, but I found relief in knowing I had documented it in its glory days. We also knew part of its beauty was its transience.
The next year, we also re-discovered the forgotten superhero nativity scene and fake christmas tree that our friends Jeremy and Charlotte had brought for the Christmas we had spent at camp (which was also our first night at camp.)
Three years have passed since the summer of Hurricane Jimena, and now another hurricane--Miriam--is due to hit Baja this week. Lucas and his sister are heading out tomorrow to drive up the Baja with an empty trailer. Their plan is to get North before the hurricane hits. Lucas is going to get the last of our stuff from our storage space and drive it down. I’ll be excited to reunite with it. Among what I remember of our belongings, there are four vintage pachinko machines, my journals, and Lucas’ incredible collection of rare art books. This also means nine days of a certain kind of aloneness. I’ll use art and creativity and compassion to make the best of it.
The Story of Elias Calles to be continued....