Production stills as of January 2009.

The high tourist season is over here on Death Beach until Semana Santa in April.

2008 came and went without a single death on the beach, solidifying the first "saldo blanco" for the first time in Zipolite's history.

The lifeguards worked their butts off in December and January so far, keeping people from going in over the waist. I actually had a few people complain to me (because I follow the lifeguards with my camera and tripod up and down the beach all day) that they felt persecuted against and wanted to go swimming and not just wading in the water. It usually stops the complaining when I explain that deaths have dropped from 60 a year since the "Delfins" have been working.

My trips to two rural communities here on the coast proved to be quite fruitful in terms of developing the narrative structure of the film. Firstly, seeing the work that Piña does (rehabilitation based in the community, or RBC and the people that benefit from it was quite amazing. Education about disabilities is basicaly non existant in rural Oaxaca, as is knowlwedge about how to develop the abilities of people with downsyndrome or cerebral palsy or lack of hearing or sight. Flavia, the director of Piña and a big promotor of RBC plays the roles of therapist, parenting consultant and motivational speaker with people that have maybe never even gotten an official diagnosis of their child's disability.

Secondly, Piña´s emphasis on letting people with disabilities play important roles in the household and in the community, made me think imediately of the lifeguards. They constantly talk about the role that they play in Zipolite and the lack of apreciation that they feel. The give and take of interdependent relationships between the different sectors of a community popped out at me in both cases. The roles need to exist and they need to be apreciated just as much. Without either the people to fill them, or the motivation for the work to get done, the community loses.

So in this first month of 2009 I see my work begining to lay down in front of me brick by golden brick. There is a lot of ground to be covered, but I feel strong and I have friends with me, and on the horizon I can already see a glow of emerald green.

Filming

Lots of filming this week. I've been thinking about what it is I have to do, and have come to some interesting conclusions.

While initially I'm making a film, that does not really explain anything. Day to day, I'm recording images and sounds and then putting them into my computer to rearrange later with music and other elements.

In the moment, I have to keep in mind the thousands of little details required to get interesting shots: is my iris open enough? Can I hear whoever is taking without them blowing their levels? If no, why not? Is my shot crooked? And so on.

In between moments, I have to keep in mind the story and themes of the film. Is what I'm shooting really relevant to THIS film? Is there something I could do to change what I am seeing to make it relevant? That last question might make some film makers uncomfortable- changing reality can be a slippery slope. I decide case by case what to make of an image or a sentence. Sometimes though, changing an angle can make a big difference in the power of an action, for example. Or asking someone something can take the place of a voice over later on in post production. And if I am choosing to shoot something in the first place, chances are it has something to do with my idea for the film. So making that connection clearer doesn't change my intention.

In the editing suite, later on, the decisions are less immediate, but equally important. Especially when working with a 90:1 ratio of images shot to images used. Essentially, I find myself deciding how to represent what I see in an effective way using pictures and sounds of it. And there's a lot of it.

Christmas

Technology is wonderful and amazing and can bring me right into my parents living room and I can almost feel the rug and smell the tree and taste the coffee cake--almost.
Actually, Christmas was a very poignant time for me to reflect on my life that sometimes feels split between two worlds.

Being here in Zipolite feeling so at home at Piña Palmera and in every way swept up in this film and this way of living, it was strange to see my family smiling back at me in the glittering rectangle of my computer remembering all the times we've gathered together during the holidays and during the rest of the year. Slowly, slowly, day by day what we do becomes our lives. Spending so much time away, in Mexico, at college, it feels like the comfortable regularity and tradition of Christmas in my parents' living room that I saw in that rectangle is a distant memory. And it felt rich and powerful to talk to them and see them and hear their voices as if they were coming to me from a past life. I think that's all culture shock is: changing gears super quickly moving from one way of life to another. It affected me during Christmas because this is my first Christmas away from my parents and to be thrown back in with the tree and the coffee cake was like doing a 180 sitting here on the beach in 70* weather speaking Spanish and eating animal crackers and coffee.

Regarding the project, I'm going to a rural community tomorrow to visit some ex-patients of Piña Palmera and do some filming. I spent the day today with the lifeguards, who are hoping to celebrate a year with no deaths for the first time in the history of Zipolite on Thursday. Cross your fingers.

The long haul

It was a tough decision, but I won't be returning to Amherst for Christmas. Originally, I would be flying home Tuesday and spending between three and four weeks in Amherst with my family, regrouping and taking stock of my progress so far. I decided, however, that to leave Zipolite after only a month and a half here would do more damage to the film than good would be done by removing myself geographically in an effort to reimagine the project.

Relationships are funny things. Often we consider ourselves quite close to people around us, only to find that they are not worth contacting even infrequently when we are away from each other. I've found it to be true often traveling between home and school, a distance of about two hours in a car or three on a bus. One might draw the conclusion that friends serve a very immediate need for companionship, but at the same time, it can be a quite disposable or interchangeable role that can easily be filled by others. This is what essentially convinced me to stay here another two months before taking my break. Trust is quite important in this project and I don't want to ruin what I've been building since October.

So I'll be here through January now, which will also allow me to be present for the holiday tourist season. The next big wave of tourism is in April (Semana Santa in Mexico), and they say it is quite different.

My work at Piña is taking up most of my time these days. I spend the mornings working in one of the many areas--therapy, special care, kitchen, mantainance, etc...--and the afternoons are sometimes outings, or interesting conversations, often extensions of the morning work and always time consuming. I did spend the other day on the beach with a couple young lifeguards taking about work and money (or the lack there of) in the evening, which was very beautiful and it reminded me of how the lifeguards were originally the imputus for the film. Balancing my time between the two constituencies continues to be a struggle.

Thanksgiving

Piña Palmera

This is a game played with a ball that makes noise by means of a bell inside. The game is called "GolBol" (Goal Ball) and if you aren't blind, you have to wear a blindfold to play. Nobody plays it competitively here, but a few people at Piña organize exhibition games in surrounding communities.

I'm rethinking a lot of what the word "disability" has come to mean for me. Before coming here, I had never had a real conversation with someone with cerebral palsy, or someone who couldn't see or hear. I'm surprised every day by the new realities I'm finding here, and the barriers to living what I would consider a "regular" life. Surprised, impressed and honored to be here redefining what a life is and what my own life is worth.