As I sit and work on a pencil rendering, I can hear the sounds of the village. Laughter is all around us with happy sounds from children playing. Youngsters of all ages share in a joke and some teasing. Some sit on the corner and wait for others to join them for a game of volleyball or to just sit and chat. They can get so excited playing, that the sounds are loud and clear, even from many streets away, especially those of the winning team yelling out their victory.
There are days I sit and listen to children coming home from school. They giggle and chatter happily, lifting my spirits, even though often I do not understand their Spanish. The language of joy is universal. There is a regular group of them that play in the arcade next door. It brings me back to another time filled with adventure, a time there was no problems or stress. It's like being there again.
Other young ones come running down the street in a hurry to get home to help mom or to an after-school job. I can hear their footsteps from under the gates of the carport, their bags dragging behind them. The little ones enjoy some ice cream or drinks while walking with others; they always seem to have something in their mouths. Then there is only the sound of their footsteps and they fade away into the streets.
A universal sound that always makes me smile is that of mothers calling their children. Children respond "que?" pretending not to know what mom wants, so a few more moments of play can be stolen. Finally, the impatient shriek in mother's voice as they call for the third time. Once that tone sounds, the kids surrender and slowly saunter homeward.
Early morning brings the fury of horses hooves galloping through the streets as if something urgent has happened. What I love best is the clip-clop of a slow trot that reminds me of parades back home and the glorious horses proudly prancing to the music of marching bands.
Some sounds are specifically Mexican. At first they were strange to my ear, like the garbage men with their cow bell. Now, I am thankful for this advance warning to get my garbage ready on time. Venders of all types hawking their wares are daily visitors to our neighborhood. One can get gas, water and wonderful fresh fruits and vegetables delivered right to the door. There are also political and public service announcements coming from speakers poised on top of cars or pickups. I often wonder how even Spanish-speakers can decipher these very loud, speedy messages.
Music is the hallmark of the Mexican experience. Movies often depict Mexican communities with music playing in the background. I used to think it was exaggerated, until I came to live here and found there is always music. It could be coming from car or home radios or cd players or be live in the form of mariachis or marching bands, but it's always there. It is the soul of this country and has inspired many a drawing from my rooftop studio.
Our town has many sounds. Sometimes they fade, hardly noticed at all, until we direct attention to them: The routine lives of the neighbors, traffic, a cop's whistle, automatic gates like the huge doors of a haunted house. They are all part of what makes our home unique.
Best of all are the sounds of Mother Nature: The birds, the storms, the quiet rain like tears, the wind crashing mighty blows. There is much enjoyment in listening to the sounds that surround us. I wish that each and every person would take the time to enjoy them as I do. Mexico is a world of amazing sounds, but only one's perception and experience can color THE Sounds of the Village.
