The fountain of knowledge: A day with my favorite elder.

           The house is situated on a dirt and gravel path, tucked away from the solidly middle class concrete dwellings of other parts of town. You know you are at Valaria’s house when you come to the worn wooden gate that beckons you. I feel like I am transported back to a distant age every time I walk through those gates and follow down a dusty path that leads to an equally dusty house made of Earth. The house is brown and looks like it has been in this very spot since the beginning of time. I know she is home when I see wisps of silver coated hair  by a chicken coop.  She strides up to me like she is walking on water and not on hot harden earth with no shoes.  Elder Valaria greets me this day with a large plastic bowl in hand and tells me to sit on one of her chairs as she finishes what she needs to do.  She disappears down a path behind her kitchen and I busy myself by looking at the cracks in her earth house. There are many and the cracks, roots, and packed earth remind me of her skin: rugged, worn, natural, and beautiful. She returns with a bowl full of Plantains that at 93 years old she has harvested herself. She greets me with a large toothless smile and a warm hug. Our visits are special to both of us. We have passed numerous afternoons together on her worn, old benches. We talk of family and the past mostly.  I spend most of these days mining for gems that are her beautiful stories. She tells me of being a child laborer in her village in the 1920’s. She tells me of her grandchildren. Many times she closes her dark eyes and wistfully tilts her head as she recants her past triumphs and sorrows alike. I am struck by her strength. Valari is often working or walking around town. Her tiny brown frame swallowed by brightly colored house dresses. She can lug water, work in her garden, care for her animals, council her great grandson on the finer points of auto mechanic engineering at an age where many American elders are in homes sitting and waiting to die.  Death has been very busy in my town lately with 2 deaths in a week, one being my host aunt who was teaching me Tamborito.  Both of the women who have died have been women and both have been between 32 years old and 63 years old. All woman were far younger then Valarie. I do not know how much more time I have with her so I cherish our time together. I have decided to take some portraits of her during our last visit.