The Mural That Should Have been

My friend Rebecca and I went on an art tour of murals in Jalatlaco, a barrio in Oaxaca last month. The murals are magnificent and each one has a story of defiance, protest, feminism, pro-worker, el Día de los Muertos, celebrations.

Our guide Karleth was fantastic. She talked with most of the artists (those who are still alive) to get the story behind their mural and researched those who she was unable to contact. Karleth’s indepth knowledge about Jalatlaco’s history and the artists along with her passion about the murals added so much substance to the tour. I was ooh’ing and ahh’ing at each mural, yet one in particular struck a chord. This mural, now referred to as ‘the mural that should have been’ has a story that is sad, infuriating and unsurprisingly not surprising.

The original artist’s name is Maria Izquierdo. In 1945, Maria was commissioned by the Government of Mexico to paint a mural in the Government Palace of Mexico City, more specifically in the stairwell of the old City Hall Palace. The theme of the mural was “the progress of Mexico City”.

Diego Rivera and two other male artists, Jose Clemente Orozco and David Alfaro Siqueiros, strongly criticized the sketch done by Maria and as the story goes, protested and resorted to “sexist disqualification” to support Diego’s position on and against it. Thus, Maria Izquiedo’s mural work was interrupted and prohibited the artist from continuing her work.

In 2021, the sketches were retrieved and the mural was painted by 110 women in Jalatlaco, where Maria was born and was curated by Dea Lopez. It is known as ‘the mural that should have been’ and vindicates not only Maria Izquierdo’s mural, but also the work of all women artists. As an aside and not inconsequential, the 110 women chose not to paint three men in the upper right corner despite them being in the original sketch. Instead, they were painted as women doing the work of what is historically depicted as that of men’s work. An act of defiance, liberation and pro-women’s rights at some of its finest hours!

After the artwalk ended, I reached out to Karleth and gave her a quick glimpse into what my business Ageless Adventure is about. We touched upon ageism, the roles of women in our societies and the barriers, challenges and amazingness that we face each and every day. It was no surprise that we ended up talking about how we could collaborate to offer an intergenerational, inter-country women’s discussion group.

A few weeks later, on Saturday December 27th, five of us gathered in a lovely space – American women who have 60 plus years and Mexican women who have 25 years*. Rebecca, Karleth, Maria, Frida and myself shared what it’s like to be a woman especially in the current anti-women rights environment in America, and what it’s like growing up in a machismo, sexist society yet living in contradiction with pro-feminism protests and activism in Mexico.

We talked about water and the lack thereof, how water is being diverted to hotels in Oaxaca Centro and away from Mexicans. We talked about tourism and what is needed to be a responsible tourist. We talked about the agave plant and its need for water to thrive and how the demand for mezcal especially in the US has prompted agave plantings over other crops; And how the drought has and will continue to impact this agricultural country. We talked about how patriarchy shows up as well as the ever-present mansplaining and gas lighting. And we all recognized we could spend hours talking about this so we made note of it for next time we gather!

We shared that we think we’re never enough. That we’re never at the right age - we are either too old or too young. That we are considered too loud or nor loud enough. And being asked oh so much why we are single and have no kids. That we wear clothes not suited for our age (and what the heck is ‘our age’ anyway!) and that we are too much of a feminist of not enough of leading the charge.

A friend of Karleth, a Mexican woman who is in her 50’s, was unable to join but one statement she shared that I will never ever forget: “I’m not afraid to get old but am afraid to become not useful.” 

While I was sharing some stories, Maria leaned in and said to me ‘I am looking in a mirror’! I almost cried as here was this vibrant, feisty, brilliant, funny Mexican woman hearing my stories sees a bit of her current and future self in me. I was beyond honored to say the least.

Our conversation was lively, raw, vulnerable, honest and so much fun. Five women shared stories and got to know one another, with vulnerability, trust and no pretense or expectation. We left that house knowing we’d see each other again and that we’ll all leave an indelible mark in this world.

Contact me if you want to be part of the soon-to-be scheduled monthly women’s discussion group. They will be lively and will cover a myriad of topics with a focus on feminism, ageism and how to eradicate it, and how each generation of women can help support each other as we move through this complex and beautiful world.

Here are three links to articles about the mural. They are in Spanish yet are translatable upon opening them.

The mural that should have been  

The Mural that Should Be 

The work that should have been: A work rescued by feminists

*The Spanish language does not say ‘I am 62 or I am 25 years old’. It is Yo tengo sesenta y dos. I have 62 years.

Welcome to Wetsuits & Spandex - a place where we share our trials & tribulations, our highs and lows, the mundane and the exciting, the heavy and the uplifting  – in our triathlon and surfing lives. And then who knows, we may just throw in other high-performance active stuff into the mix.

the parasite invasion

I am writing Wetsuits & Spandex from Oaxaca Centro in the state of Oaxaca, Mexico. I arrived mid-November after being at Playa La Saladita, which is in Guerrero, the state just west of Oaxaca. I was there for six glorious, hot and humid weeks doing what I love - surfing. I surfed as much as I could and walked barefoot as much as I could. On the same sand where dogs roam free and where they feel it is their dog-given right to pee and poo wherever and whenever they want.

Being at La Saladita this time around reminded me of my happiest moments as a kid — my family along with the extended families by way of friendships formed over the years – would spend two weeks every summer at the Jersey Shore. We body surfed, rode the waves on rafts, ate pizza on the boardwalk, threw a ball into a big square full of colored boxes and if the ball landed on the color where we placed that quarter, our parents would win a pack(s) of cigarettes (yup…. I was one of those kids!). And where I walked barefoot back and forth to the beach from our rental. Everyday. On hot macadam. Where our feet would burn initially but then got so used to the ground’s heat by way of calluses, that it just became our normal way of being for those glorious two weeks. 

Walking barefoot almost 45 years later at one of my happy places is something that brought such joy during my time in La Saladita. I walked barefoot to and from the surf school, to and from the break from the school and sometimes even barefoot along the road.

Until…. those last few days of the trip where I got bit by what I thought was a mosquito or ant and then all hell broke loose.

Why is walking barefoot on the sand, in a tropical climate with tons of dogs roaming free to do as they please -which includes using the sand as their poo and pee place - part of this story? And why is getting bit by a mosquito or ant on the foot also part of the story?

I’m glad you asked. It’s where The Parasite Invasion occurred!

Ya know, those little parasites, aka creeping eruption aka larva migrans cutanea*. They crawled their tiny-ass selves into my right foot through what started out to be a mosquito or ant bite, which led to intense itchyness. (I still don’t know what happened first. Kind of like what comes first, the chicken or egg.) Which then led to scratching those toes till the cows came home. Which led to a teeny opening on the back of my foot. Which allowed those creepy little crawlers to climb right in. I mean seriously, would you pass up a chance to be in a warm, cozy comfortable space away from the big, bad predators that want to eat you up? Nope, not me-I’d jump right in as well!

Fast forward three days when I arrived in Oaxaca. I didn’t know what was happening but knew it wasn’t good. I realized very quickly that it’s not the kind of thing that could be taken care of by a good pedicurista. My beautiful foot (which I lovingly refer to as Lola) really hurt and it all freaked me out.

I’ll spare you the details and won’t include pictures but needless to say, it wasn’t pretty. The Infectious Disease doc uttered a little ‘oohhffff’ sound after I took off my sock if this gives you any indication of what we were dealing with!

He said not to walk - so walking I did but realized my stubbornness was getting the better of me and finally listened to him and took it easy. Taking it easy is not the norm for me so this was a challenge to say the least. Picture Oaxaca and its barrios, mercados, street art, art galleries, vendors, musicians — all within walking distance yet I wasn’t able to really walk that much, so very little walking I eventually did.

It was a challenging two weeks to say the least but what could have been a real crappy few weeks turned into a healing journey.

It all led, surprisingly, to an amazing two weeks full of reflection about my life. Included was forgiveness, sadness but not regret, boundary setting –-tons of boundary setting. A release of energy and acceptance I hadn’t thought possible. A sense of freedom and happiness, yet most importantly I became fully present and deeply and truly content.

Energy started to flow more freely and allowed me to focus and center on what is important. Ageless Adventures, my renamed business name, was reborn and its mission and offerings became clearer than it had been pre-Invasion. Part of its mission is to create a space for women ages 50+ where empathy, growth, repair and connection flourish while doing active things. 

I started to embrace the here-and-now. The present was right in front of me and I didn’t rush it to get to the next thing.

Making a commitment to solid training for a 1/2 Ironman (70.3) race this 2024 race season came to such focus that I know I won’t blow it off as I have done in the past. I unwittingly accepted the little bit of belly that has popped out yet I sit quietly and not in judgment knowing what I need to do to get into ‘better shape’ for my training months ahead. 

Yet, the most beautiful thing happened - I accepted this body change and recognized how beautiful our aging bodies are and the inevitability of such a change. I am starting to accept my mortality and realize the time I have left here on this earth must be full of nothingness and everythingness.

I don’t want to sit idly by and let all of the ideas and contributions I believe Ageless Adventures has to go by the wayside. I have brilliantly amazing women in my life and will nourish those relationships and can’t wait to share the fruits of our labors of love with you all.

Committing to letting people go or at least letting the hold I’ve allowed them to have on me came into full view and I embraced the uncomfortable change. It takes courage to admit you’ve allowed some folks into your life who use words and actions that can make you feel small or inconsequential. While I believe no one can ‘make you feel’ anything, I do believe in the power of words and now recognize that it’s not really about us - the words of smallness are all about them and their journey to heal trauma they experience.

Oaxaca is an amazing place. It is full of artists of all kinds, markets overflowing with food, Catholic churches steeped in riches and art and yet the disparities are so prevalent that I would be remiss in not acknowledging them. I feel a deep sense of guilt and privilege, even more so than I have felt in the past. I recognize the guilt and know that it does no good to hold onto that feeling. So, I channeled being in my privilege and let the guilt go - out into the universe so she could channel it back to me in a more productive, embracing way.

I believe we are all given gifts and it’s up to us to realize them and give them a garden by which to grow and flourish.

This time around no wetsuits or spandex were involved. The only things involved were these teeny, tiny too-small to see with the naked eye parasites. All of this happened in part because of the Parasite Invasion. I don’t wish this on anyone but what I do wish and hope for is that you take the time to slow down, reflect, quiet the mind, sit with the uncomfortableness of whatever is causing the discomfort, embrace the joys of being who you are. Embrace it all. And give back to the universe the gifts that were bestowed upon you.

The parasites are gone but the gifts they gave me will remain.

Welcome to Wetsuits & Spandex - a place where we share our trials and tribulations, our highs and lows, the mundane and the exciting, the heavy and the uplifting  – in our triathlon and surfing lives. And then who knows, we may just throw in other high-performance active stuff into the mix.

If you like what you read, share away. They can sign up to receive Wetsuits & Spandex at www.tri2surf.com or send an email to info@tri2surf.com

*On a serious note -Here is some information to read if you want to learn more about how to avoid getting this and how to treat it. It’s not just for folks who go to the tropics and can be really serious!

Fit, Fabulous, Sexy and Defying Ageism *

Wetsuits & Spandex – The smell and feel of the fabric brings such joy - no matter what is happening in my life at any given moment. When I put my gear on - my uniform so to speak - my face breaks out into a huge smile and I transform into a focused, adventurous, playful, serious, high-energy vibrating being. I get a sense of belonging and of being ‘home’. 

Clothes don't make a person yet wearing wetsuits and spandex make me feel strong, invincible and powerful. Add to the uniform synthetic fibers - which keep me covered when surfing in the warm waters. Ahh… the ocean and a surfboard. The perfect couple!

My story – It’s the short version beginning with that turning point birthday year of 50. I had a life-altering event happen which led me to truly look at my life and who I have become. I wasn’t all that happy with what I saw. One way I dealt with the slap-in-the-face, much needed reflection was I joined a gym, which then led me to sign up for weekly training sessions. And unbeknownst to me, the personal trainer also was a triathlete. Within the first few minutes of meeting him, I heard myself say I’ve always wanted to do a triathlon and gave him so many reasons why I hadn’t done one. He said let’s start training for your first race. And I said, well why the heck not! And the rest is history. 

I trained for five months. Four to five training sessions each week led to my body getting into some of the best shape it had ever been. But even more importantly, so too did my mind and emotional well-being.

I will never forget my first race - and I know those of you reading this who also are triathletes know this as well – race morning I was in an almost full panic and anxiety attack. To this day, I can still feel the butterflies in my belly driving to the race, and even more butterflies when standing in the lake water with about 40 other women just waiting for that horn to blow! I wore a wetsuit with spandex underneath. Two sturdy, hardy fabrics that kept me warm and (quasi) comfortable throughout the .9 mile swim, 12 mile bike and then that 5k run. I am forever in debt to what I now call my uniform of armor. I thought this Sprint distance was the longest race ever.... but then fast forward a bunch of years and I'm doing 1/2 Ironman (70.3) races.

I found my joy. I found a community I never knew I needed. I started to excel and thrive in all aspects of my life. I was told that I am an endorphin junkie. I embraced my new life. My life of consecutive day training for months in preparation for race day became my joy. And a very welcomed life-changing way of being.

Wetsuits and spandex were my security blankets.

I found my purpose. I found my WHY. I got my ‘self’ back. I was home.

Welcome to Wetsuits & Spandex - a place where we share our trials & tribulations, our highs and lows, the mundane and the exciting, the heavy and the uplifting  – in our triathlon and surfing lives. And then who knows, we may just throw in other high-performance active stuff into the mix.

* Inspired by Larry Smith’s ‘Six Word Memoir Project’