Illiterations: Laughing At My Own Expense

 A young girl learns juggling.  Photo from Circo de Los Ninos. Some months ago, I did a multi-part post about the trip I took a few years ago to Cuba with Jeff.  I hadn’t really made time to write down my memories and the myriad emotions that visiting Cuba evoked.  Perhaps that post ran too long—or, too many “parts.” I find myself moved to write again about a little town I visited two days ago.  It’s here in the state of Nayarit, Mexico, and it is fondly refferred to as San Pancho by the locals.  It’s true name, as a few Mexican nationals have reminded me, is San Francisco (I felt they were super traditional, and wanted to make sure I knew “Pancho” wasn’t the real name).  It’s a funny thing, my first serious boyfriend was a direct descendant of Pancho Villa, and somehow, I never internalized that it was the Mexican nickname for Francisco, in spite of the fact that he loved to tell people that he was a Pancho Villa grandson.  At any rate, I suppose there some fo