Well, it’s day four of the Writers’ Conference, starring BARBARA KINGSOLVER! Yes, that’s her in the picture above.
The only time I was closer than that was in the line of the ladies’ room, with somebody yelling “No paper in the toilets! Put the paper in the wastebaskets!” (In Mexico, you do not flush down the paper. Most restrooms have signs to this effect, but this is a fancy hotel, so they have no signs, which means that out of the four toilets available to 400 or so women, several were plugged @ any given time.)
BK’s speech was absolutely amazing, so I’ve gotten a couple copies on CD. I was worried that someone with such a laser focus & an occupation that tends to draw the introverted would have trouble addressing a packed house. Au contraire. She knocked it out of the park.
And the other speakers have been equally effective. I’m learning so much my poor head is about to explode. Most of what I’m focusing on is creative non-fiction & travel writing. I’m skipping all the parties, which means I totally missed the excitement last night, “Disrespecting the Gourd” and “Art Goodtimes” reportedly having a conniption fit. Those d**d poets….
As the conference winds down, more and more people are showing up with black eyes, broken arms and canes, compliements of San Miguel’s cobblestones. The OXXO store across the street (Mexican 7-11) is doing a bang-up business since the hotel is not serving coffee after breakfast (coffee-drinking is not a concept in MX.)
I’ve had my own goodtimes, finding a very cool place to have Sunday morning tamales, meeting fellow nomads & generally having a blast, as is my habit. But I’m very very tired.