Bolsa Chica - Papas Fritas

There are currently 4 other students living here now, in addition to myself. And I'm pretty sure the longer I stay, the worse my Spanish gets.

That's a lie. I'm just hyper aware of all the mistakes I'm making. I need to get over the fear.
That's why I'm staying much longer than anticipated.
Don't freak out.
I'll come back.
Probably.

This morning started with tortillas and potatoes and beans and vegetables. I. Love. Tortillas.
Then, it was off to school where I showed off my new haircut. My teacher called me pesada. Apparently, that means I look tough. After a while, the side of my head got cold....so I covered it with my hair.

Who knew I'd ever have that issue.

Class was - as always - super exciting. Herman is a super fun, engaging teacher. He has to listen to us butcher his language for 4 straight hours. He almost never laughs at us, and he never loses his patience. As a fellow teacher, I know this cannot be easy.

Today, we focused on apenas and acabar. It was especially hard for Marc and I to keep it together as an elderly female class member kept saying "a-penis" instead of "apenas." Apenas basically signifies that you've just finish doing something. So, if I say apenas comí, chances are I have eaten in the last 15 - 30 minutes.

She said a-penis comí (I ate a penis).
Laughing, laughing, laughing.

For whatever reason, I've had a headache for like 3 straight days. It feels like my sinuses have dried out. I find that odd, as it has been raining every day. That being said, it is what it is. It could be the painkillers and the antibiotics.

Because of the painkillers and sinus pain (and the lack of sleep from last night), I basically slept through my last hour of class. That's just how I roll, I guess.

After class, I ran home for lunch and - for the first time since being here - really had a hard time understanding Martita. She was talking, and I wasn't comprehending. I blame the headache.

Then I packed my laptop and took my homework to mask making class. I'm done with my mask, but I like my teachers and figure(d) it's better to study where there are people who can answer my questions. For instance hubo v. habia.

Now I understand. I wouldn't if I hadn't studied near my teachers.
I also wouldn't have been able to call them swear words and command them to do things.
That's what school is like around here.

Afterwards, I had intercambio and worked on translating an article from English to Spanish. After that, Francis, Billy, Thora, Lisa and I walked down to chocolate row and bought some chocolate con almendras.

I'm going to make hot chocolate with it tomorrow.
Con agua. (With water).
Calm down.

Then, Francis and I grabbed food on our way home (why am I a sucker for potato chips and fries?!?).
So that was my day.

Speaking of potato chips...you're probably thinking I stopped in a corner store.
NO.
There is this freaking amazing street vendor who just basically stands there all day slicing and chopping and cutting potatoes for making fries/chips and these spiral potatoes. Then, he puts all these sauces on them - and some fresh lime....

There is always a long line. I think he sprinkles crack on them.
And now you know!

Let's Just Get It Out Of The Way

2% of my day was not so great. But 98% was amazing, and so I'm going to start with the "bad" so that when you finish reading the post in its entirety, you feel happy.

On my walk home tonight, I stopped to look at an interested Day of the Dead display tucked in a courtyard just off the Zocalo. A man approached me and said (this conversation happened in Spanish)
"Hey, do you remember me?"

I looked up and sure enough it was the man who randomly bought me a memelita in the Zocalo last week. I said, "Yes. Thank you for buying my memelita last week. That was nice." He started explaining to me what the display was about, and giving me a short history of Catholic traditions + Day of the Dead.

I asked him about indigenous customs. He couldn't answer me; I should have known then that he was a creep. Instead, he told me a few more things and then asked "What are you doing tonight?" I responded with "My family is waiting for me at home. They're expecting me for dinner."

This is a classic military brat lie. It's the "I'm not going to tell you I'm walking home alone with no one expecting me" move.

Then he asked for my phone number. I told him I didn't have a phone. Then he asked if we could meet in the park and chat (at this point, I was moving out of the dark courtyard and back towards the main road with tons of people). He grabbed my hand and said he'd really like to do an intercambio (like language exchange) with me. At this point, I wasn't sure if he was being creepy or just an older man who wanted an intercambio. I told him that my friends could use the practice too, but that I wasn't comfortable meeting him alone.

He said, "I only want to be with you."
I said, "Sorry. I need to go. My family is waiting."
Then he grabbed my arm (just as I was a foot away from the main road) and said, "You're not going anywhere." He pulled me towards him.
Maybe he meant to hurt me as much as he did. Maybe my pulling violently away from him and stumbling into the road hurt me more than he intended. Either way, he got aggressively angry and followed me out into the street.

He looked really mad.

I ran to Cafe Brujula (about 10 feet away) and hid for a while. I asked the barista to check to make sure he was gone. He went out and said he didn't see any creepy looking angry dudes, and I booked it back to my house.

I guess I can't walk alone in the Zocalo anymore. That guy will probably see me and grab me and then I'll be afraid to leave the house ever again.

--- Now, before you get freaked out and say "That's Mexico for you" or something racist and inappropriate let me remind you that I have been accosted other times in the US by men of my own (and other) races. This man does not represent Mexican men. In fact, he represents the polar opposite. His actions in no way speak for the male population here, nor do his poor manners reflect the manners of men here. If you are thinking that, you are wrong. ---

Now let's get to the 98% awesome part of my day.

Breakfast. I love breakfast. Every morning, Martita feeds me gold.
Class - I love class! I love being a student! I love studying! I love learning! I love Spanish! I love my teacher! Today, we spent the whole day working on something I asked about. Luckily, my whole class didn't know the concept either, and so I didn't feel like a jerk for hijacking the class (or his lesson plan).
Mask Making Class - Mask making class is super fun. I love the 2 Octavios (teachers) and Omar. They are funny, hands on teachers that make you feel like an adult in a craft class - not a baby in a craft class. We are planning to make a video in which all of us/our masks appear. We spent class time telling jokes in Spanish and learning Spanish slang from one of the Octavios.

After mask making class, Lucy, Saskia, Billy, Thora and I all walked to the barber shop. Yesterday, Lucy and Saskia and I decided we were going to shave the sides of our heads (like Cordelia)! The two barbers there are MS13 gang members and are fully tatted (arms, necks, faces).

They're really nice dudes!

There was also the cutest little boy in there who was playing peek-a-boo with me, and would laugh hysterically every time I pretended to cut his hair. Anyway, Billy basically got us all hooked up with this place...we were the 3rd, 4th, and 5th girl Billy has brought to this shop. I'm sure the guys are wondering what the deal is. But, they didn't ask questions. They just shaved away. And they did great jobs of it. We all look really awesome. :)

After that, Saskia and Lucy went home. Thora, Billy and I went to the taco place...they didn't eat. But I ate 4 tacos + 2 extra tortillas to clean up the taco spill leftovers at the end. In the restaurant, the waiter's name was Gego. Or something like that. And they thought my hair was cool, too. And they were weirdly shocked that I was ordering and speaking in Spanish.

I'm not sure why. I must not look like I can do it.

After that, I walked home.

There were a million little things about today which I loved. Lots of laughing. New experiences. Cute little kids, smart remarks in class, being dared by a teacher to steal free fruit from a conference at our school and chickening out. Climbing on the tables at the school. Walking in the rain. The Day of the Dead festivities around the city. Talking with Martita.

98% is okay with me.

Just Another Day in Paradise

I got a compliment from Martita today. She is the best person on the planet, and so her compliment made me really happy.

I had been expressing my concerns over my mediocre Spanish, but she insisted my Spanish was good - and told me I was a clear, purposeful speaker. Then she gave me an extra tortilla. Nothing spells love more clearly than extra food.

There are two more people living at the house (a couple in their 40s from Boston). They are also taking Spanish classes. I was feeling self conscious because they were speaking a lot of Spanish, and I'm just not a big talker [I should say I'm not a confident speaker].

That's where my doubts arose.

After my tamale breakfast, I went to class (which is totally in Spanish, which I totally understand) and enjoyed a day of working on the future tense (which I know). We played a fun game of hypothetical situations. I love games!

After class, I went home and had lunch - these potato cakes that are delicious. Martita and I talked about Matt, my dad, the police, the new couple living in the house.

Then I went to class, finished painting my mask, went for a run in Llano park (it was kind of a pathetic run....altitude problems), came back to class, changed in the bathroom, talked with a random chick, and went to study at Cafe Brujula. Unfortunately, studying wasn't very successful. My brain was not turned on, and I couldn't really understand what I was supposed to be studying.

In other news: there is a symposium/conference at the school this week which focuses on indigenous communities and education. Right.Up.My.Alley. Unfortunately, I'm in class during the lecture times. I might sluff mask making on Thursday and hit up a lecture instead.

It's important. Everyone should sluff class Thursday. 

Easy Street

I went to bed late, but woke up in time for breakfast. As soon as I finished eating, I fell back into bed for another hour.

It was a great decision, and I had a weird dream that everyone in my host-home was speaking fluent English.

Then I woke up, took a shower, packed my bags and headed off to do 5 pages of homework. But before I settled in to do homework, I wandered around the shops and ended up buying myself a new mochila and a sweater!!

It's great, because it happened so naturally. I'm really picky about things that I buy, and so when the bag caught my eye and then the sweater in the same shopping stretch...it was kind of a miracle. And the prices were right.

I took my winnings to study with me at Cafe Brujula, which is basically my second home. The people who work there are starting to recognize me! And then, after studying, I went home (and then back out to find the band playing by the house. It was just playing in the street, and people were dancing in the streets and on their roofs).

Francis and I wandered out a few hours ago for some dinner. We checked out the goings on of the Zocalo, and got trapped in some giant parade/procession full of people wearing monster masks. We tried to make our way up that street which turned out to be a terrible idea. We ended up getting stuck in a mob-like crowd, being shoved and pushed. Francis eventually had to give the death stare to a guy who was being far too aggressive.

Oh, Oaxaca.

It's been a nice, relaxing day. It's nice to decompress. Hopefully I'll be a good girl and go to bed early so I'm ready for class tomorrow.

The Witching Hour

Don't forget to roll back the clock.

And what rhymes with clock? Rock. And where was I for the last 2 - 3 hours? A rock bar. And what was in this rock bar? A cover band.

It was pretty weird and kind of on the outset of the main part of town...and mostly full of dudes. But a large group of us were coerced into going, and ultimately it ended up being pretty fun. We took lots of silly pictures.

Before being coerced into this hair-shaking, head-banging fiesta we were all hanging out at the hostel. We sat around the table trying to mimic each others accents (which was a hilarious mix of Australian, English, Dutch, Finnish, German, and USAmerican) and talked about where we've been, where we're going next...

I really enjoy meeting people from all walks of life. And I enjoy meeting them in unexpected ways and places, too. I like feeling my world expanding and contracting at the same time.

Let me go back to the beginning of the day up to this point.

Francis and I were planning to go to Monte Alban and Arbol de Tule. Upon speaking with a cab driver, he mentioned that you can't just catch any cab to Monte Alban...so we decided to go to the tree first, and see where that took us. El Arbol was pretty beautiful. It's amazing to have been in the presence of something that feels so very eternal. The tree has surpassed 2000 years in age.

Can you even imagine? This tree has been living and growing and experiencing and adapting and changing for 2000+ years. And it may very well see 2000 more. And me? What's my measly 80 - 100 years in compared to that. And what a testament to the power of nature - and community as well.

After the tree, Francis and I wandered around...and happened upon two random donkeys on the sidewalk. That was interesting. Then we decided to hop a cab back to the city and devise a plan as to whether Monte Alban was feasible. The cab ride was all good and well until randomly the cab driver decided to put on his seatbelt.

Let's talk about the taxis here for a minute. Taxis can be found en mass cerca the beisbol stadium. They fill the street, and they have all sorts of places written on their windows. Basically, you just pick a cab - agree on a price for transport - and hop in. Now, just because you and your friend are in the cab doesn't mean it's only yours. The cab will continuously try to pick up more people until it's reached a full capacity of 6 or possibly even 7.

These cabs legally sit 5.

The seatbelts don't usually work (if there are any), and so no one wears a seatbelt. This is why it was startling that our cab driver randomly decided wearing his would be a good idea.

- For the record, people think cabs here are sketchy. If you know what you're doing, you're not an idiot, and aren't afraid of everything...you won't have a problem. And you can get around basically for free. That being said, there are some sketchy cabs here. So if you don't know what you're doing, you are an idiot, or you are easily frightened...don't bother trying to catch one on the street.

After he dropped us off, we decided Monte Alban wasn't going to happen (a series of hunger, fatigue, and overcast weather played heavily into our decision) and so we decided to find food in the city and hit the market. Lucy was supposed to meet a friend in the park, but her plans fell through and she joined us at Cafe Brujula.

She was on a hunt for tacos, and I was on a hunt for chocolate.

Neither tacos nor chocolate were had, but we did end up in this giant food-vendor-market and everyone in there was really aggressive. They were super competitive for business, and we were being assaulted with words and menus. It was scary, so we left and went to Lobo Azul. I had a tlayudita which was fine, but Lucy's food was super bland.

Ultimately, we were disappointed. The thing about Oaxaca is....the street food here is so good that restaurants are basically always a disappointment. Especially when you compare both quality and price....

It was then that Francis, Lucy, and I took off towards the hostel.
You know the rest of the story. 

T.G.I.Viernes

This morning, we had bean tamales for breakfast.

I love bean tamales.

We discussed the history of El Dia de Los Muertos, and the mezcla (mix) of christianity with indigenous customs. Conversations at breakfast in the casa of Renee y Paula are always super interesting.

Then, it was off to class. I got to the school and was feeling pretty energized. I'd slept a full 6 hours (which is virtually unheard of here, since there are always a million noises happening) and was feeling ready for the day.

And then my body changed its mind, and about an hour into class I was absolutely dying of fatigue. Or, in Spanish, Estoy muerta de cansansio.

Class also focused on Day of the Dead customs - and I'm growing ever more excited for it to actually arrive!! After class, I went home, ate Martita's miracle tostadas, and took a nap. At 4, I met with friends at the school and we walked to the Zocalo to meet more friends [I stopped and bought a shirt off a guy on the way. Well, I mean, I didn't buy it off him... I bought myself a shirt from him] and then we all walked into a neighborhood on the far side of the city where Cordelia got a cool hair cut.

In that same neighborhood is a huge market called El Mercado de Abastos.  It's like something out of a movie. It spreads in all directions forever and is full of basically everything you could possibly imagine. Machetes, children's toys, chicken, tacos, shirts, fruits, vegetables, cheese, pants, sunglasses.

I bought pants and sunglasses. I spent roughly 220 pesos on pants, a shirt, and sunglasses today. That is the USD equivalent of 17.00. If you are jealous right now, you definitely should be.

The interesting thing about El Mercado de Abastos is that it is notoriously dangerous - and you definitely feel that vibe in and around the market. There were many men walking around with full-face gang tattoos. It's not a place where you lose your friends, or pull out money if you don't need to. The neighborhood surrounding the market doesn't have a US equivalent. It's not a place where a girl can walk alone - day or night. There are dog packs that run wild in the streets, and random mounds of garbage. There are police on virtually every corner, and more and more turn up as it gets darker and darker.

Leaving the perceived safety bubble of my neighborhood definitely was an experience - and I think it's so important to have those experiences. It's important to poke holes in the bubble. It's important to see things from as many angles as possible.

After leaving the market, we went to eat at a taco places. Kind of. It's more than a taco place. But Billy called it a taco place, so I'm calling it one as well. I ate more tostadas. They were yummy and pretty. You know, beauty really counts when it comes to food.

Now I'm home, but I was planning to spend my Friday night out. Somehow, that didn't happen. And that's okay. Because I like having some downtime. Tomorrow brings me Monte Alban and El Arbol de Tule.

And tonight brings me texting, pretzels, and sleep.
Good night. 

Far Over

There's something important I need to mention, because it's something of a miracle.

I have been feeling really healthy in Oaxaca. My skin is clearer, my energy is higher, my appetite is normal and after I adjust to being awake....my stomach doesn't hurt. I don't have crazy nausea. I don't feel sick all day.

I feel really good. Even after I eat. Even after I eat street food.
This is the way I should always feel.

I've really been enjoying this trip - primarily for the fact that I'm getting to learn so much more about myself every single day. And I'm learning to appreciate me without restriction.

That sounds weird and cliche, and I even tried to write out exactly what about me I'm appreciating...but it sounded weird. The best way I can phrase it is this: through the various experiences I'm having, I am able to solidly say I know what is best for me in regards to different things (such as diet and routine), that patterns and schools of thoughts have been reinforced, that I'm allowed to be confident, and that there is as much to life as I've thought there was.

I'm allowed to sandwich myself on the median between traffic and enjoy it without feeling silly.
I'm allowed to like the music I like without feeling like I had to defend myself.
I'm allowed to appreciate the aesthetics of something that I might fundamentally disagree with.
I'm comfortable being human, and I am allowed to love the aspect of myself that really just loves people.

I feel like I'm not making sense.

Here's the thing, for a while I've been feeling like a square peg in a round hole. Here, right now, I'm a square peg in a square hole. And the people around me are whatever they want to be. Round, stars, triangles, octagons. And I'm allowed to be square, and I'm allowed to like what squares like, and believe what squares believe, and think the way squares think.

---- But that's enough of that. What about my day!?

Well, it included a lot of interesting conversation (books! politics! excursions!). It included plates full of good food (bananas! guava! enchiladas! sauteed veggies! tamales!). It included a combined-intercambio...and a 3 hours study session at Cafe Brujula (near the Zocalo) which I hope actually helps me.

Right now, it definitely doesn't feel that way. But sometimes you just need to sleep on what you've studied.

Today also included making a mask for Day of the Dead. At first, I thought I'd make a calavera, but I decided on a mosaic pattern instead...and I've got a snake on it as well (crawling across my face). It's super cool - and it's also fun to see everyone elses super cool masks! We had to mold our faces with this special stuff in order to make the masks, so they actually kind of look like us. Which makes everything that much creepier.

And, maybe - just maybe - today included me humming that song about the misty mountains to myself (from The Hobbit) every time I looked a the local misty mountain range here!

T.G.I.Today

I know I've talked about it a lot, but I'm obsessed with the way the clouds hang over the mountains. It's like no matter what they do, they're unable to separate from one another.

In the morning, I am always excited to say hello to the cloudy mountains. When I catch a glimpse of them as I'm walking to/from school, they make me incredibly happy.

Oaxaca has quickly become "home." It's weird, I think, how one can adapt to some places so quickly - and others not at all. I enjoy passing all the same people on the street every day. I feel like I know my neighborhood [and people in it]. I know where things are, and I can even give directions.

Success.

Today, there was a lot of waving at people that I know (or recognize). But that's just an aside. Let's have a run through of the day:

Breakfast was devoured with a vengeance. I was starving this morning.
Promptly after finishing breakfast, I went to school - where I decided I'd brush my teeth. (Usually, I do this at home. Today, I decided school was better....for no reason).
At 9 AM, class started. Marc and I were a "pareja" (pair) and we had a good time trying to come up with off-the-cuff examples of things Rapunzel from Tangled had never done.

Nunca habia sentido el viento.
Nunca habia jugado en la agua.
Nunca habia viste un mariposea.

Yeah. Like that.

Lunch came around at 1, but I don't get to eat until 1:30....so between 1:30 - 2:00 I scarfed down my 4 course meal. Yep. 4 courses. Soup, vegetables, the-most-delicious-mole-on-the-earth, fruit.

I'm not kidding. Martita is the best cook on earth. I'm never going to be able to eat mole anywhere else because she makes the very best mole on the planet. I made sure to tell her this. She appreciated the compliment.

At 2:00, I had my mask making class (for El Dia de Los Muertos). Today, we basically worked on our masks for 10 minutes, and chatted the rest of the time ---- while the masks dried. Mine is going to have a serpent on it!!!

After mask making was intercambio. My intercambio is called Dulce, and she's nice. Intercambio basically means she wants to learn English and I'm learning Spanish. We help each other with ideas, words, grammar, whatever. Sometimes, we just chat about random stuff.

Like machinery.

After intercambio, Francis and I met up with Billy and Thora (Dora)? at Cafe Brujula for some studying. I got a fruit smoothie (without milk, of course) which was perfect for a study snack! After a few hours of funny conversation and studying, Francis and I went to pick up our laundry from the laundry place (they do it for you, here). Then we went to our homes.

I spent a lot of time today just being appreciative - and enjoying the things I just seem to naturally enjoy. For example, when you cross the street here...sometimes you don't make it all the way across and you have to wait on a divider.

I love being stuck on the divider.

I appreciated the clouds on the mountains, the cuitones of a demonstration. I appreciated today what it means to be human. I think we're always so focused on being other things - a student, a parent, a spouse, a ....whatever.

No.

Before anything, I am human. And it's not often that I feel totally comfortable with being just that. But that is what I am. That is the beauty of being me - of us being us! That we feel and smell and hear and taste the world around us.

That's the way life is supposed to be.
You know.
Lived.

And remind me on of these days to actually try to put Alcala and the Zocalo into words. I feel like I should at least give it a go. 

Thanks, Oaxaca.

Every day I'm here is one more day that leaving doesn't feel like an option.

Sure, I wouldn't mind a night or two free of cuitones (fireworks) and campanias (bells). But I still encanta (love) hearing the tamale man, the 'gas de Oaxaca' man, the tortilla man.

Sure, I don't love that the water is scarce and not safe for drinking. But why should I care when the return is so much enjoyable culture, food, entertainment?

Every day, I'm reminded of how lucky I am.
Every day, I'm reminded of how beautiful I appear to be.
Every day, I'm learning something new.
Every day, I am surprised by something heartbreaking or heartwarming.
Every day, I remember fully what it means to be Nikki, and alive.

So - every day I'm here is one more day that leaving doesn't feel like an option.
But, of course that day will come.

And then, there will be no waking up for family breakfast at 8 AM. There will be no classes with Maestro Herman at the institute. There will be no culture classes, no political debates, no getting caught in the middle of fast paced traffic, no Zocalos, no random parade parties, no street vendors.

Today must have been a good day for me to be talking this way. :)

I went to school, had lunch, went back to school, and then studied at Cafe Brujula for 3 hours. Then, friends met up and we went to the coolest place - Nueva Babel - where I got a chocolate de agua!

It wasn't a particularly special day.
It was just a day that reminded me of the importance of community and connection, a day that reminded me where my passions lay.

It's amazing what you can learn about yourself when put into a situation completely unfamiliar - and it's nice to feel completely at peace with oneself.

Thanks, Oaxaca.

Monday, Monday.

What is there to say about Monday?

Well, it started off with suffering through class, but leaving early and seeing a doctor. But despite that small hurdle, the day was - of course - a success.

I really enjoyed class today because it challenged my thinking. We were actually learning concepts and ideas (specific to language) that I hadn't learned before. It stopped feeling like review, and turned into education.

At least for me. And, of course, every day - no matter what - I'm always learning new ways of saying things, or new vocabulary.

But it was exciting to practice using a new concept, and I also enjoyed the game we played where we had to describe a person in a picture (on an iPad) using the imperfect, and the person holding the picture had to guess who it was based on the description.

After leaving the school, I went home for a lay down and some lunch.

Lunch was a plate full of easy vegetables. Good for my sick little body. Dinner was definitely an antibiotic, and a cup of potato chips. Haha. Sometimes, you just need to eat the freakin' chips on the street, okay?

Anyway, after lunch was mask making class (for the day of the dead!) which was pretty exciting. We had to have our faces lathered in vaseline, and then these adhesives were molded around our faces....to form the beginning of our masks. It was especially entertaining hearing the boys cry in pain as they tried to remove the adhesive/masks from their beards.

The evening consisted of Francis and I looking for a laundromat (I can pick up my clothes on Wednesday), stopping in an intensely awesome shop with politically geared art/clothing (I bought a shirt & button), running into Jack (a guy from school), and eating potato chips in the Zocalo.

But, the highlight of the day was what I am going to call the "movie moment." I was crossing the street near the hospital when a man made eye contact with me. He said hola and I said hola and kept walking. I expected that to be the end of our interactions. A passing moment between strangers - like the gajillions of passing moments we have with people every day.

But then, about 3 minutes later, I feel a tap on my shoulder. Standing behind me is the man from the crosswalk. He wanted to know who I was.

Awesome. :)

Let's see what Tuesday brings!

Please Sir, I'd Like Some More.

You know at the end of the day, when you are laying in bed and you think, "Dang. Today was the best day of my life."....?

No. It wasn't. Today was the best day of my life. Or at least the most incredible day.

I woke up in a fever. My stomach hurt, my body hurt. But as I was laying in bed I thought, "Nikki. It'd be better to die trying to see Oaxaca than to waste your time here laying in bed." So I got up, took some meds, and went on my merry way.

Cordelia, Francis and I met up at the school. From there, we walked to the beisbol stadium where all the cabs pick you up for different places. We hopped in a cab to Tlacoloula and thus the adventure began!

Tlacoloula is home to a huge market full of all sorts of livestock, people, fruit, things, clothes, games, drinks, whatever you can imagine. We saw everything from bananas and lychee, to live chickens, to baskets of crickets, and more. We even got to watch a man making chocolate. I took a video.

We encountered a man who was very proud of his mezcal. He had painted the inside of his own store with the history of "the indigenous people." I put that in " " marks because there are different indigenous groups. Not just one. He was very excited to interact with us, and called Cordelia and I beautiful. He wanted pictures with us as well.

So, of course, we took pictures with the mezcal man.

After we tired ourselves out of this amazing, large, phenomenal, one-of-a-kind market full of colors and sounds, we decided to make way for a cab to Mitla (en route to Hierve el Agua). But first, I had to use the bathroom. I left my bag with my friends so I wouldn't have to carry it through the large crowd, only to discover that it costs 3 pesos to use the bathroom at a bus station...so I looked around helplessly until a man made eye contact with me.

He paid the 3 pesos. I'll be forever grateful. Otherwise, I'd have just wet my pants.

Our cab to Mitla was packed with 3 other people. So, 6 + the drive makes 7. How do all these people fit in cabs? I don't know. But it works. The further we got out of the city, the more obvious it became that we were in Mexico. Or, that we weren't in our home countries. That we were somewhere alive and green and different.

After we got out of the cab in Mitla, we climbed into the bed of a truck to Hierve el Agua. Winding up the side of a mountain in the back of a truck was tossy, turny, bumpy, hilarious, an experience of a lifetime, and oh-my-goodness the views were extraordinary. Never mind that occasionally we looked as though we might fall off the cliff....and never mind that I full on slid from one end of the truck to the other...

It was absolutely mind blowing.

But nowhere near as mind blowing as Hierve el Agua itself. What a phenomenal, living, breathing place. We enjoyed ourselves by swimming in the water, doing yoga on the mountain, and laying in the sun. I am not lying when I say that this is one of the most - in fact, is the most - beautiful place I've ever been in my life thus far.

I appreciate it when life throws gifts like that my way.

We only had two hours there before it was time to trek back down the mountain (this time, we sat in the cab of the truck)....but not before I bought some tortillas to snack on. We enjoyed conversation with a super friendly Argentinian couple (in Spanish, of course) and appreciated the novelty of sharing our road with several herds of cattle, dogs, goats...

We also shared a cab (totaling 6 people) with the Argentinian couple back to Oaxaca (city). They are musicians, and have a performance Wednesday night! Maybe we'll go to it.

We passed the rest of the night at Cordelia's (host family) home. Her host mother's home is a huge mansion with a giant yard. It's old and beautiful and amazing. It has an avocado tree in the back. It has a princess bedroom with a completely round bed. It has marble everything. It was a lovely evening to pass the evening - and, of course, the company was just as wonderful.

And now I lay here, with a strange stitch in my side...and I am considering how fortunate I am to have experienced everything I did today. It's amazing to think that these opportunities and experiences are mine.

That I definitely did yoga on top of a mountain in Mexico, and then laid in the sun.
That I definitely had a full conversation in another language with people I just met.
That I definitely experienced one of the biggest, varying marketplaces ever. That I rode up the side of a mountain in the bed of a truck. That I hung out in an old, amazing home for the evening.

I really wish everyone could have had my day today. I really do.

Benjamin Button

I'm going to go backwards. I'll start with what I did last, and work my way to morning. It's good to change things up I think.

I've just taken a shower.

Francis, Cordelia and I just walked home in the rain. It was a bit chilly, yes, but oddly refreshing. The rain here isn't harsh or aggressive. It's just rain. It's not slanty, like Japan. It's not a downpour, it's not misty and annoying. Just soft, regular rain.

Prior to that, we were in a cafe, but I was feeling quite ill (you know, achy bones and such). Instead of trying to push it and stay out for the night (especially with plans for a long day out tomorrow), getting to our casas seemed like a good plan.

We spent the evening sitting in the Zocalo, people watching. There was a traditional dance competition happening which was fascinating to watch. There are always people selling millions of balloons, scarves, bubbles, flowers, candy and more. Cordelia and I bought memelitas from this cute little family (street vending) and they were so amazingly tasty. And when I say "Cordelia and I bought" them, I mean I had mine paid for by a Mexican man who thought I was beautiful. He wanted to be my tour guide around Mexico.

It was only 10 pesos, but it was 10 pesos I didn't have to pay.

Francis ended up eating elote. So, the three of us with our food just hung out and took some time to recognize how fortunate we are in our own lives. It was a lovely moment. Which we totally deserved because we spent the earlier part of the afternoon at Cafe Brujula, studying our Spanish.

The street artist we met before in the Zocalo (the one from earlier posts) showed up there as well, and we had a little chat. But the majority of the rest of the time was spent practicing, teaching, and speaking Spanish. Francis came up with a clever way to remember when to use "estos, esos, aquellos" and we learned from his audio book that "go go" verbs (tengo) go "ga ga" (tenga) when put into the imperative.

But before all the fun we had practicing our Spanish at the cafe, Francis and I were at the organic market! It's quite small, but definitely awesome. I was able to get just over an 8 oz cup's worth of pomegranate seeds for 10 pesos. To put that into perspective, 20 pesos isn't even 2 dollars - it's closer to $1.50. So I paid about 78 cents.

I also bought an amazing scarf for 80 pesos and 2 little bracelets for 30 pesos. There were a million other things I wanted to buy, too, but decided to wait until next week. I did, however, inquire as to how one might get their hands on a poncho for a certain-about-to-be-born-baby-moses-maurer.

And it's a good thing I ate a hearty breakfast this morning, because I was in full-on Spanish mode at the market. I definitely wouldn't have been able to operate without Martita's miracle enchiladas. This morning, two other women joined me and my host mother for breakfast. They all talked about how the boys their daughters want to marry are usually not very motivated, unemployed, dropouts, etc. In Mexico, you don't get married without the permission of your parents. Paula (host mom) talked about how she'd rejected at least two guys for her daughter.

That's serious business.

Almost as serious as the fact that last night, I dreamt in Spanish. When I woke up this morning, I was definitely super excited about it.

And tonight, I'm super excited for tomorrow. We'll take a cab to Mitla, play there, and then - in the bed of a truck - be carted up to some water falls (Hierve El Agua). Hooray for adventures!!

Feeling 25 (Old).

This time last week, I was sitting in the Atlanta airport (freezing to death) and waiting, nervously, to board my flight to Mexico City.

Now I've been here an entire week, and I'm laughing at the fact that I was nervous at all. Oaxaca is an amazing, beautiful place with an amazing, beautiful culture (and subculture(s)). The people are kind, the food is great, the atmosphere is lively.

And there is a way that the clouds hang over the mountains that I've never seen before.

This morning started at 6 am (because apparently that's when I like to wake up) - stomach ache free! I woke up, showered, looked at the hazy mountain and then happily devoured a breakfast of watermelon and chilaquiles.

Every morning with breakfast, I get tea and juice. And, to top it off, Martita cooks the best food in the world. I eat the best food in the world 2x a day!! How lucky am I?

Then I went to school - and in class we watched a film-short called El Viajero which offered an interesting perspective on fear and race.

School was ordinary...lunch was amazing (seriously, I ate so much. Avocado, spinach, potato, celery, more chilaquiles, tortillas).

And now, I'm in my room unsure of where the evening will take me. Last night, however, the evening took me to a mezcal bar with my friends. It had amazing live music, and everyone was dancing cumbia and/or salsa. It was like something you only see in movies. Tiny bar, tons of people, everyone dancing, everyone happy.

But the last few days have been busy. It's like I hit the ground running the moment I stepped off the plane. I think tonight will probably be pretty calm [perhaps people watching in the Zocalo], we're all a little tired.

But it's the best kind of tired to be, by far.

Jueves.

I'm writing this post before the end of the day because I actually have some time to do it, and I hate rushing things. You know me.

So this morning started like every other morning.

0400 hours - wide awake
0600 hours - the children (or animals? I'm genuinely not sure) next door start screaming - as my host sister says, "they sound almost human."
0720 hours - Yo: "Martita. No voy a comer desayuno hoy. Me duele mi estomago. Necesito descansar un poco mas." ("Martita, I'm not going to eat breakfast today. My stomach hurts. I need to rest a little more.") Martita: "Si? No quieres fruta? Quieres te?" (Yeah? You don't want fruit? Do you want tea?) Yo: "Si, te por favor."
0725 hours - I take my "te" to my room.
0820 hours - I get ready for school
0850 hours - I give my mug to Martita...."Como te sientes? Ayuda el te?" Yo: "Si, si, gracias." Martita: "Quieres fruta? Platanos? Puedes tener dos!" Yo: "Okay! Gracias, gracias. Adios!"
0900 hours - Arrive to class.

Class is always really interesting. We end up talking about really random stuff, and then Herman (el maestro) finds ways to fit in a learning objective. So this morning, he asked how we were all feeling. Generally, we were all feeling quite tired/sick. He asked me specifically why I was tired, so I told him how we could hear the music from a huge concert up in the stadium (that didn't end until about 1).

Apparently, this stadium is called El Auditorio Guelaguetza and was built specifically for the guelaguetza. The guelguetza is an event that "showcases" the indigenous cultures - there is food, dancing, music. It used to be free, but now that foreigners use it at a tourist destination, they charge a price to enter. Only those who can afford to are allowed to appreciate indigenous culture, I guess. -_-

Then, we talked about about mezcal (an alcoholic beverage specific to the area). You can buy it at the bar, you can buy it at a mezcaleria, you can buy it in a bottle from a guy off the street (if you know what you're doing). It can come with a worm in it, it can come without a worm in it. It can be smoky or it can be more like tequila. While talking about mezcal, we learned the difference between "que" y "cual" - and then moved onto other exercises to solidify it.

I, and I'm very proud of myself, already knew the difference. (That doesn't mean I don't sometimes mess it up, though). In fact, today was the first day of my classes where I really opened up and just spoke Spanish freely.

I guess I'm getting there. :)

After class, I walked home with Francis. He wanted to go to the store to buy a notebook, first. So we did that. Then I came home, pet Pirata, went upstairs, looked at Facebook, and went back downstairs for lunch.

Martita (and my host mother Paula) are the best. Martita made two types of soup (perfect for a sad stomach!!) - a broccoli, cilantro soup and a chayote, tomato, and poblano soup. With it we ate tortillas that a guy from the neighborhood sells. About halfway through lunch, Paula showed up with - wait for it - a fresh guayaba (guava) for me!!! She remembered how much I liked the first one, and bought me another just for the helluvit. We talked a little bit about mezcal (I mentioned a discussion we had in class about worms - gusanos - in the mezcal) and local laundromats.

Then she told me to go upstairs and rest! So I did. And now I'm here, and I happen to know that Pirata was in my room because he left a perfect pawprint on my bed.

So, what's next for my day?
Well - at 4 I have my last salsa class. After that, a group of us are supposedly going out to a salsa bar as a goodbye party for Britt, who is leaving tomorrow. We'll see how long I last, though. Ideally, I'll be home early.

Sick, tired girls don't get to stay out late. I guess you'll find out tomorrow whether or not I make the right decision.

The United Nations

I think this post will be a little shorter, because it's midnight and I've just gotten home (and need to sleep)!

This morning started - yet again - with "Martita, me duele un poco mi estomago." Bananas for breakfast for me! My stomach hurt until about 11 - at which point I became annoyingly hungry. I waited and waited for 2:15 to roll around...

and then I got to eat delicious mole negro con papas and a little salad, y mas bananas (platanos). After that, it was off to intercambio where I learned 3 words in Zapoteca (an indigenous language here). And, apparently I have a really good Zapoteca accent. Here are the words:

Tortillas = get
Water = niz (sounds like niece)
Eye = lua

After intercambio was salsa, and after salsa was wandering around with my friends. We went to a really pricey place with a rooftop view, and then a group of us went to a taqueria. The experience at the taqueria was really strange.

When we got there, it was kind of busy. We put in our orders and waited and waited. A table was served before us, then a few of us were served, then another table. Then the rest of us. It was really frustrating because we were there for almost 2 hours. It took an unnecessarily long time, and we were a bit angry.

We had been patient and polite. We had ordered in Spanish. Why were they treating us like we weren't important?

It was a little weird. The food was good, though. I doubt we'll go again, simply based on the service.

After that, we found ourselves at Barracuda. The boys wanted to take advantage of a 3 beers/50 pesos deal. At the bar, we realized that each of us was from a different country (England, USA, Australia, Germany - and the waitress was from Spain). We appreciated how uncommon that situation was, and at the end we got a picture.

I think it's really up to Francis to post it.

Ultimately, it was another successful day in Oaxaca. Every day that I'm here is another day that I'm certain I'll never be able to leave. 

And on the Third Day....

Today started a little like this:
"Martita, my stomach hurts. Would it be okay if I just eat fruit for breakfast?"

I had a lovely fruit cup, and some fried bananas. Even that was a bit much, but I couldn't reject it...so I just ate it. And, as usual, the conversation around the breakfast table was really interesting. We talked about the US government shutdown as well as the Mexican president. My host father talked about corruption and then made a comment about certain government workers - and how you can't trust people who work for the state. His words were something like "If you are a police man, you are the president."

Bam.

Then, I made my way to school. I ran into Francis on the street, so we walked together and then - obviously - went to our separate classes. In my class, we talked about command forms and past tense. That's where I really struggle. Using that past tense. No one ever forces me to use it, and so I just don't use it.

I really, really need to use it!

Then, I returned back to mi casa to find a huge lunch (of course) de arroz, eggplant soup and a plate of guayabas (guavas). I had never had a fresh guava until today...and I have to say it's my new favorite fruit. I could eat guava all day long!

In fact, I ate one while walking back to school for my intercambio. Intercambio is basically a language exchange. I'm paired up with a 26 year old dentist named Luz. She's really lovely. Basically, we talk a lot about random things and correct each others grammar.  It's only for an hour. Today was kind of awkward.

I hope things get more interesting.

Anyway...despues de intercambio was the salsa class. That class is so much fun, and it's really good exercise dancing for 2 hours. A few times, Francis and Marc showed up how to do more pop&lock type dancing, and at the very end of class the salsa teacher showed us some fancy footwork. We had a lot of fun, which is great. Sometimes, dancing with people you hardly know can be really awkward and not fun. Everyone in the class is kind and light hearted and patient.

It's hard not to have a good time.

In fact, we were having such a good time that about half of us decided to go down to the Zocalo after class to shoot the breeze, eat, etc. No matter what, the Zocalo always brings with it exciting experiences. We met a really interesting street/portrait artist (originally from LA) who travels around Mexico doing his thing. I drew a picture of him (it was a stick portrait) and then he drew an amazing photo of my friends and I, and just gave it to us.

There was also a stray dog hanging around the table that I loved. I tried to feed it a peanut, but it wasn't interested, even though it was obviously emaciated. I told it that beggars can't be choosers, but it didn't listen.

After our street artist friend left, a beggar (drunk/high?) came 'round and wanted cigarettes and money. He was crying and telling a very sad story. Then, he was asking if I knew any coyotes to smuggle him across the border. I really hope the story he told was a false one, because it was incredibly sad. A tragic story of death and murder and losing everything.

I hope he finds whatever it is he's looking for.

Other highlights of the day:
Host father makes awesome political statements
I eat a guava for the first time in my life

Adjustments:
The exhaust in the air
Eating the biggest meal in the middle of the day

Anyway, I always feel really frustrated at the end of these blogs posts because I feel like I've capture NONE of the essence of my day. I haven't explained the way it feels to stand in the middle of terrifying traffic. I can't capture the Zocalo with words. I can't describe my encounters with people on the street, or explain the conversation with friends/classmates.

It's all beyond words, beyond photos.
But it's the best I can do.

Back to School

Today was the first day of classes.

In true Nikki fashion, I woke up with a nervous stomach and wasn't able to finish my delicious breakfast. Me duele un poquito mi estomago (my stomach hurt a little bit) and I was pretty nervous that I'd caught a bug because of the ice in my drink.

By lunch, I had overcome the achey stomach and devoured arroz y verduras y mole amarillo con tortillas, fruta...and this seed spread. I can't describe it. It's just ground seeds (like amaranth) with chili....but that really doesn't do it justice.

It was really, really good. Everything was good. Everything I eat here is good.

Anyway, mi profesor is Herman. He's really nice and gesticulates a lot so it's easy to get the idea of what he's saying. I'm in an intermediate class, which is exactly where I need to be...and there are about 6 others in there as well. Getting to know people and their stories is always really exciting.

For some, Oaxaca is a stop on a 6 - 9 month journey. For others, it's a 2 week trip to round out their language and experience the culture.

There are even two girls that speak Icelandic! They're not in my class, though. They're still technically beginners.  But, really. How hard can Spanish be when your mother tongue is Icelandic?

Classes empieza (begin) at 9:00 and run until 1:00 pm. Then, it's home for almuerzo. At 3, we do intercambio with a student who is trying to learn English. At 4, we do an activity. This week our options were cooking or salsa dancing. The guy who gave me my orientation strongly suggested the salsa class (and teacher) and so I went with it.

It was a surprisingly good time. Those who know me know that I'm quite picky when it comes to dancing. Class is for two hours, and we learned quite a lot! There are a few more girls than boys, though, so sometimes that was weird. Although, you can kind of take a break whenever you want - so there were times when only half the class was dancing. It's pretty good exercise dancing for 2 hours!

I will probably be a professional by the end of the week.
Just kidding.

After salsa class, everyone kind of hung around and got to know each other. That was pretty fun! Then Francis and I (we live about a block apart) went back to the rooftop restaurant and chilled (literally, it was a bit cold) up there. He ate, I pondered eating but ultimately decided against it.

So, today things were less adventurous because routine has set in. But, learning is being had...and, of course, new experiences. No matter where I am or what I'm doing, I'm having a new experience.

Highlights of today would be:
-- Fresh papaya at breakfast. I have always hated papaya. I really, really liked this papaya.
-- Chayote in my Mole Amarillo. It's a squash, but it's got the consistency of a potato squash lovechild.
-- Speaking Spanish with less reserve than usual, and in front of peers.
-- The rooftop restaurant at sunset!

Adjustments:
-- Having a set time to wake up in the morning.
-- Eating breakfast at 8:00 on the dot.
-- Eating a huge lunch and little to no dinner.
-- Speaking Spanish.

Oh, and today...my feet are horrendously dirty because I salsa-d without shoes....! Nevertheless, my pedicure looks amazing. In case you were wondering.

And I know you were.

A Feeling, Not a Word.

My morning started with a multivitamin. And breakfast. A breakfast made for the gods...no - by a god(dess).

Seriously. I sat at the table with a glass of orange juice, a plate of sliced bananas and watched as Martita made tortillas filled with squash flowers. She even sauteed the squash and some carrots for me. She plated it beautifully and it tasted like Heaven.

Like. Heaven.

My host father was sitting at the table, and he chuckled over my joy. Food. He complimented Martita, and I stuffed my face. We eventually talked un poco de topics like familia (family), amigos (friends), y cosas mas politicas (more political things). We talked about globalization, cheap products, the destruction of communities...you know. The things people talk about over breakfast.

During that conversation, I found out Renee (host dad) is a retired architect. He built this house about 30 years ago and they've lived in it ever since. The house is amazing, and my windows are soundproof to the point that they keep 90% of the noises out. I've also got this amazing bathtub in my bathroom, but I can't use the tub because there's not enough water to fill it without depleting a huge chunk of the supply.

I also found out he owns a small ranch/orchard with orange and lime trees. Awesome. And that all of his siblings are dead now except for 2. Not as awesome.

Anyway, around 10:00 AM I met up with my british friend. Being my dad's daughter, I had already made us a few plans. We went to an art museum (pictures will be on Facebook) with all sorts of ancient art(ifacts). We enjoyed the exhibits there for a while, and then meandered down the street to a beautiful church with a nice courtyard.

Beautiful doesn't really being to describe it, though. It's strange, because when you're looking at these things - churches, artifacts, fountains - it's more of a feeling than anything else. It's a physical response, an interaction with it.

Adjectives don't work.

After that, we wandered into the Zocalo, and over to Lobo Azul. It's as though this place was built with the knowledge that someday I would visit. The first thing I saw was a side-bag/satchel/purse with a woman in a red bandana stamped with EZLN on it.

I don't need to say much more than that. I think you know, based on this alone, I felt I'd come exactly to the right spot. I ordered memelas and lemonade. The lemonade was hand-squeezed and delivered in a measuring cup!

After that, activities included sitting in a park, me fawning over every dog that walked by, going to the corner store and buying little snacks, dropping our snacks off at our homes, looking for a place with wifi and failing, but finding this really cool rooftop restaurant/cafe.

Seriously. This place is gold. From the roof there is a fantastic view of the city around us. I was so sucked in by this view - and distracted by good conversation - that I really wasn't aware of the ice in my drink until I started drinking it. Mi amigo (my friend) and I decided that it was best that I just fish the ice out, and then we chuckled at the fact that my fingers were probably dirtier than the ice could have been to begin with.

So, I potentially drank tap-water ice. But I kind of doubt it. My host family doesn't drink from the tap, so I assume that most people don't use the tap for that kind of stuff....?

Anyway, we enjoyed it there...but then we moved to the Zocalo for the evening - and we're lucky we did!! Apparently, Sunday nights are really really lively. There was an epic Edward Scissorhands "actor" - he even had a red chair and pretended to cut hair for people! There were these giant people-puppets that just walked through...and other fascinating street performers. There is always music playing in the Zocalo as well - and it felt very surreal.

Everything happening felt other-worldly. Especially this moment where we happened upon another church courtyard (in the Zocalo) and people were tossing these large, air-filled, decorated tubes. But they just kind of float, and they're long and straight. Music was playing, people were everywhere, and these tubes were just kind of floating about.

It sounds silly. It wasn't. It was a feeling, again, I guess.
The closest thing I can compare it to is a scene out of Big Fish. And that's not even right. Or fair.

I feel like I should have more to say, but all we really did was take everything in. We sat. We watched. We chatted. We ate. We listened. We wondered.

Tomorrow, classes begin - routine! Homework! Hopefully, my Spanish (and confidence) improve 10-fold. I'm tired of this plateau I've come up against.

Until tomorrow, folks!

Brave Little Champion

I've lived a full day in Oaxaca. I wasn't sure I would after such a fitful sleep last night! I dreamt of cockroaches and crashed parties and old friends, but in between these odd dreams I woke up sweating, or freezing, or dying of thirst.

I imagine the type of sleep I had was not very unlike one's first night in rehab.

But, in the morning – I rose! With the sun, even, because apparently the sun comes up rather late (and rather quickly) here in October. Or maybe my haze made me feel that way.

At about 7:20 AM I took a shower, but it took me about 3 minutes to realize that it takes about 3 minutes for the hot water to come on. Then, at 7:45 AM I went down to the cocina (kitchen) where Marianita (the house maid) was cooking my desayuno (breakfast). Up to this point, I still hadn't met either of my host parents. One plate into breakfast (fresh, cut cantaloupe which I usually hate but really enjoyed) my host father entered the room.

Renee. A lovely, jovial man who smiles often and gently corrects my flawed Spanish. He asked me all about veganism, my family, told me about his two sons, and then (despues de desayuno) walked me to the Instituto where I needed to take a test. We arrived early, and the gates were closed, so he walked me to a park – which is safe to run in during the day – and around a few blocks before we happened upon the gates again. This time, a young man (foreign as well) was there, and he asked if I felt safe enough to wait the last few minutes with this guy so he could get about his day.

So he left, and I made friends with Frances. Frances is from the UK and is studying Pyschology. He graduated recently, and is making his way for a masters soon – but not until after he's done working a resort during the ski season (5 months in France). Lucky. He speaks a little Spanish, but I speak quite a bit more...which meant that during our exploration of the city, I was the one that spoke.

Surprising, right? I was terrified.

But before all of that...I took a placement test, paid tuition, and had an orientation that informed that a.) STDs and AIDS (I guess it's not an STD) can be spread in Oaxaca and b.) traveling while female and alone is generally a terrible idea, so make friends. Luckily, I had already met Frances.

After we spent about 15 minutes on the school WiFi discussion tattoos and technology addiction, we decided to be brave little champions and wander out into the wild, wild Oaxaca. First, we walked aimlessly and got lost. We ended up asking for directions at a cell phone store. Then, we walked back to the school, and used a map to get us to food: Itanoni!!

I read about this place before coming, and was excited to offer it up as a suggestion when we became hungry. Just as I had suspected, it did not disappoint. I had two tetelas (corn tortillas stuffed with things) – one with beans, and one with mushrooms. Yum. They were each about the size of a large piece of pizza. All in all, my whole lunch cost me 40 pesos (or somewhere in the ballpark of just under 5 dollars).

What the awesome.

After eating, I dropped my backpack off at my host family's place (by the way, I basically have a private apartment within their home. A living room and a bathroom all to myself). The rules state that we must leave our host friends of the opposite sex outside (which I understand), so Frances had to stay on the street.

Weirdly, that reminds me that I made friends with a street dog today. I found it charming, my host father found it kind of gross.

After ditching my laptop (and briefly talking to my host mother, Paula), we walked down the street to the zocalo (square). It's a straight shot and only about 20 minutes away. And there's a pedestrians only section! We just weaved through the square, stopped to listen to several people protest the arrest of the protesters recently arrested in Mexico City, and read the amazing, political street graffiti. There's no better way to be heard than to put your message in an intensely public place.

We wandered into a large market (only to take a gander) and then over to a technology show/hacker's convention next to a large church. Then, we spent about 10 minutes at a public display with information about mental illness. We stood and read the long description of how mental illness affects people, the mission of the group, and other things – all in Spanish. At one point, I said a word funny (because I was reading in Spanish but speaking in English simultaneously) and we both stopped and laughed. Then we realized the woman with the group was right behind us, and felt odd – what if she thought we were laughing at mental illness? Both Frances and I walked away feeling proud at our abilities to understand so much Spanish.

After all of that, we decided to walk around our neighborhood a bit more (we're about a block apart), and, after happening upon an Irish pub, we had to go in. The curiosity was too much. It looked so very Irish publike. Inside was intensely hilarious for both of us. The chairs were upholstered in Scottish tartan fabric, the music was generally American (sometimes a bit of reggae), the wall decorations were all American, and they only served 2 Irish beers. However, it was very very much like an English /American bar, and both Frances and I felt a bit like we were back in our home-cities.

Now I'm back at home, but my family is out. They have WiFi, but I haven't gotten the code yet, so I'm typing all of this into a word document. I'll hopefully get to copy and paste it in to my blog tonight. I've taken a few photos with my phone, and hope to upload them soon.

Oh – and last night, I brushed my teeth with the tap water. I'm still alive, but I freaked myself out because I could hear all of your voices telling me “use bottled water to brush your teeth.”

And, I successfully did not allow water into my mouth during my shower. Which I made sure to take quickly, as water is not an easy commodity to come by in Oaxaca. In fact, it is delivered by truck, and a bit murky colored. The family buys 10 gallon cases of drinking water.

I wish I could say more – about the hazy clouds that hang over the mountains, the way the rain sounds when it hits the tin rooftops, how it smells when it meets the hot asphalt, about the graffiti, the taxis, the wild dogs. In due time, I suppose. I'm sure I'll find the accurate words to describe these things eventually.

If not, you'll just have to see it for yourself.  

Departure Day

It's been a while. I've had a bit of a dry spell, I guess. Everything worth writing about has been to important for a public blog, so it's been somewhere else.

You know. Girls and their diaries.

Anyway - it's time to revive the blog....at least for now. Because I'm going to Mexico. Between traveling alone, as a vegan with celiac disease and a compromised immune system...If I can't come up with something interesting to write, then I should never write again.

Today, right now, I travel. Currently, I'm sitting the freezing Atlanta airport and trying to keep myself entertained. And warm.

I've been up since 0430 hours, and in the last 8 hours I've stood in the longest security line of my life, I've been groped (apparently wearing a sparkly shirt through those body scanners just makes you look like you're sprinkled in shrapnel or something), I've cleaned out a currency exchange office of their entire stock of pesos (luckily, I was the first customer of the day...at 6AM), made an airplane friend, and walked the entire length of the Atlanta airport.

I even had time to squeeze an episode of Grey's Anatomy in. Parting is such sweet sorrow....

By the way, the first flight (MSP - ATL) was so cold, it refrigerated my water. I'm pretty sure between the cold airplane and airport, I'm going to get hypothermia. I'll die before I ever even get to Oaxaca.

Oh, I should talk about that. Why am I going to Oaxaca? Well, there are a few reasons.

1.) The insatiable appetite for travel. I was born into the world. Not into a city, a town, a state. The world. This is my home, and I want to make sure I know my neighbors, brothers, sisters, friends.

2.) Spanish. I've been working on and trying to learn Spanish for a while. I'm a fairly functional reader/writer/listener...but I'm basically mute as far as speaking is concerned. I have never had to step outside my comfort zone. I have never had the Spanish-immersion experience. I'll be at an immersion school in Oaxaca - for 3 weeks - and living with a local family. If that doesn't force me to (as I tell my students) "use my words" then nothing will.

3.) El Dia de Los Muertos. I remember learning about it in school when I was 13. But textbooks and google searches and a 40 minute class period can only take you so far. I've wanted to experience this for myself for quite some time. Nothing makes you feel more like a grown up (and a totally awesome person) than actually crossing some things of your childhood "dreams" list.

There are other reasons, too. But you've got the ones you need :D

I've got another airport to sit in this afternoon. 4.5 hours in Mexico City. Hopefully I pass through customs without issue. Maybe I'll make a few more new friends. Then a quick flight to Oaxaca, a cab ride to my host family and....October.

Octubre.
Prepare for lift-off.