Photo: Mane Fentanes
I say your name, and beautiful memories come rushing back. I think the oldest one takes me back to those full-moon nights when, barely teenagers and still trying to make sense of the world, we found in you a space without judgment—a place simply to be, to sing, and to dream around the fire, surrounded by friendships that were just beginning to take root, some with the hope of walking through life together forever.
Photo: Mane Fentanes
I also carry a couple of beautiful memories of that first love, and another of watching a later love leave by sea. I still remember watching him swim out into the open water without him seeing me, knowing deep down that I was witnessing the farewell to that chapter of my life. I remember a birthday I had planned, when the rain arrived without warning. Mischievous and without asking permission, I moved my birthday celebration to an abandoned terrace. There are so many other moments when, after an argument with my mother or simply overcome by nostalgia, I ran to you. Not looking for answers, but simply looking for an embrace.
Photo: Max Scherenberg Noyola
Beautiful New Year’s sunrises, surrounded by a crowd that seemed to be celebrating the
same thing, yet within each person, their own sunrise was unfolding. Chahué, a place watched over by creatures of the sea, but also of the land. Deer that appeared during the pandemic, crossing from one end to the other, and that colony of cats that has found a home around your edges. As I write this, another memory comes back to me: a night when I shared my sister with my dearest friends. Something my sister said that night opened my heart and allowed something I had never seen before to enter it. And suddenly, another one comes to mind: a walk with my brother, when he showed me how, among the rocks at the far right, a beautiful window of stone opens onto your eternal blue.
I remember the moment I realized how beautiful it is that Chahué Lara bears this name. Chahué, in you I find unconditional love. And although I do not navigate your depths, you know mine intimately. And that feels good. This is what Chahué means in my life. Etymologically, Chahué is a word of Zapotec origin meaning “Fertile Land” or “Moist Land.” If I could write my own definition, it would be… Chahué: A place between the sea and the mountains, a place that listens to and embraces the soul.
What would yours be in the dictionary of your life?