I am Dianne Romain, a retired philosophy professor (CV) from Sonoma State University in Northern California. My partner of 30+ years writer and former German professor Sterling Bennett and I once lived in a charming, drafty, wooden farm house at the top of a ridge of grassy hills that winter rains turn emerald and the summer sun turns gold. In those days we drove. A lot. Often in separate cars. And almost always listening to public radio or a book on tape.
We now live in a barrio, in a house of stuccoed brick on the corner of two footpaths, a 10 minute walk from the historic center of Guanajuato, a small colonial city smack in the center of Mexico. When a friend here came to our property for the first time, he said, “I admire your optimism.” There are, you see, 203 stairs–the equivalent of a 10 story building–and various inclines between our house and the center of town. We were not kids even then, fifteen years ago. And yet we still walk those stairs and inclines at least once a day. They keep us fit. And they keep us connected with our neighbors who, like us, reach their homes a pie.*