FANTASTIC VS. REALITY

This Monday morning the house is empty of David.  He left Sunday morning, returned to Chicago.  We had a busy weekend with a piano concert on Saturday, a walk downtown.  Yesterday I attended a panel at the San Miguel Writers' Conference with Yann Martell, Ignacio Padilla, Benjamin Saenz, and Alberto Sanchez.  They spoke about reality vs. the fantastic in literature.  I found it refreshing; they all denounced the idea of "magical realism," and do not like to be classified as such.  Martell is the author of "Life of Pi", a Canadian, who sent books to the prime minister every week or so for a few years.  I don't know the whole story but remember hearing something about it.  I'll have to research it.  Sounds fantastic!

After the panel I sat by the pool of the hotel and drank a Corona, read, until Martell came to sit near me with his wife and three kids to have lunch.  I must say they were not noisy or annoying. After a while I struck up a conversation with two women sitting near me, one from Canada, the other from New Jersey.  I always enjoy talking to people.  

When I left the hotel I walked and walked.  My quest was to find a place to have supper where I hadn't been before.  Along the way I ran into our hosts from last year.  Beatriz! a man says on the street. I reply Hello! but have no idea who he is.  He does look familiar. His wife approaches. Bruce, he says.  And slowly I realize we stayed at their casita last year during the conference. I didn't know you were here, he says.  I tell them we're staying in El Paraiso. They invite me to get in touch with them but they're leaving next week.  They seem in a rush; I keep going.  What a surprise!  Later I walk by our friend's Marty's poster gallery and duck my head in, say hi to Nina and Marty and the dog.  They're busy watching tv on the computer.  I leave.

Finally I found a place that looked very nice, called "The Restaurant", not very original but delicious and lovely setting.  They sat me by the fountain filled with rose petals.  I enjoyed my dinner of braised short ribs with caramelized onions and carrots, a potato-cauliflower cake.  And a flan.  Around 7 I hailed a taxi and came home.  

It's going to take me a while to get used to being alone.  But I'll do it.  I'm a big girl.  It's not the first time.   This afternoon I'm taking a workshop with Mary Morris and will meet the Canadian woman after.