Saturday, July 19, 2014

A No Good, Very Bad Day. / El Día Horrible y Molesto

I woke up on the right side of the bed.
Me desperté de buen humor.

I had some water, got some work done, put my clothes on and decided to check out a little "natural" foods store by my house in the hopes that I would encounter rice flour and buckwheat groats (to make myself some pancakes, obviously).

Tomé agua, trabajé unas horas, me puse la ropa, y decidí caminar a una tienda cerca de mi casa (trigo verde) de "cosas naturales" con la esperanza de que encontraría harina de arroz y buckwheat (para cocinar pancakes sin gluten).

I wasn't holding my breath about the rice flour and buckwheat, so it wasn't a huge surprised that the store didn't carry it.

Entendí que la probabilidad de encontrar estas cosas no fue probable y por eso no estaba sorprendida que la tiendo no las tenía. 

But, everything else that happened next was kind of annoying.

Pero todo lo que ocurrió después me hizo agravada.

1.) I bought my soy milk, soy sauce, and alegría with 500 pesos. I realize this is a bitch move, but the bank gives you these large, annoying bills...and you have to break them somewhere...

1.) Compré leche de soya, salsa de soya, y alegría con 500 pesos. Lo sé. Entiendo que no hay nadie en todo el país que quiere cambiar 500 pesos. Pero que voy a hacer cuando el banco me los da? Tengo que usar los de alguna manera...

2.) The cashier tried to shortchange me by $200 pesos. Then she acted mad when I requested the rest of my change.  How many extranjeros has she short changed? And seriously, doesn't she understand that "math is a universal language?"

2.) La cajera trató de robar $200 pesos de mi cambio. Y fue ella que se puso enojada cuando le dije que quería mi cambio en completo. Eso me hizo pensar en cuantas personas la mujer ha engañado...y ¿no puede entender que los números son universales? 

That really, really bothered me. But I tried to just shake it off, and headed to el mercado.

Eso realmente me molestó, pero recuperé, y me fui al mercado.

3.) Every vendor in the market was in a bad mood (save the one woman who I buy bananas from. She's always in a good mood). They were all upset about something (maybe it's the influx of 5 million foreigners, half of them being demanding, rude, English speaking snobs). Or maybe the traffic because of the Guelagetza had them all bothered...because there were quite a number of vendors setting up pretty late for a Saturday morning.

3.) Cada vendedor en el mercado era de mal humor (con una excepción: la mujer que me vende los plátanos. Siempre está de buen humor). Todos eran molestos por algo (probablemente los 5 millones de extranjeros en la ciudad, la mayoría sin las capacidades de hablar Español). O...tal vez por el tráfico (debido a La Guelagetza). 

Anyway, that was annoying too...because they're typically all so happy. I didn't like that they had been having bad mornings, too.

Eso me molestó también porque típicamente todos los vendedores están felices! No me gustaba que estuvieran teniendo problemas también. 

4.) On my way home, I was taunted by these two young men. As I am a "tall" white girl living in Oaxaca, I am no stranger to being whistled, "chutched," and called at (or chased down, spoken to, etc.). But because I had already had an annoying morning, these two guys really got under my skin. They followed me down the street, trying to think of things to say about me.

4.) Mientras estaba caminando a mi casa, 2 jóvenes decidieron molestarme con tonterías. Ya que estoy una mujer "alta" y viviendo en Oaxaca, estoy acostumbrada de escuchar chiflas, "ch-ch", y otras cosas (o tener alguien perseguirme, o hablar conmigo, etc.). Pero, como había estado teniendo una mañana molesta, estos jóvenes me hicieron muy enojado. Me estaban persiguiendo y diciendo cosas groseras. 

"Oh, she thinks she's sooooo cool."
"Hey, aren't you going to turn around and flirt with us?"
"Oye, let me just touch one of them (referring to my chest)."

"Oye, ella piensa que ella es súper genial."
"Chica, no vas a coquetear con nosotros?"
"Oye, solo quiero tocar una! (en referencia a mi pecho)." 


So I gave them the finger.
And they laughed.
And that made me mad that they were laughing.

Y los "dí el dedo."
Y se me burlaron.
Y eso me hizo enojada que estaban riéndome. 


5.) When I got home, I realized I forgot to buy tostadas. I had to go back out, despite wanting to crawl into a cave and die.

5.) Cuando llegué a casa, recordé que había olvidado de comprar tostados. Tenía que salir otra ves, a pesar de querer esconderme en una cueva y morirme. 

6.) I got cat called by no less than 10 different men ON ONE BLOCK.

6.) 10+ hombres me dijeron cosas molestas, todos en la misma cuadra. 

7.) A man cut me off in line at the store, and then apologized profusely when he heard me speaking Spanish with the cashier. What the heck?! So, now because I speak Spanish I deserve my place in line?!

7.) Un hombre le tomó mi lugar en la fila en la tienda, pero después de escucharme hablar en Español con el cajero, decidió ofrecer disculpas. ¿Cómo crees? ¿Ahora sabes que puedo hablar español y por eso me vas a ofrecer disculpas?

That bothered me.
And I haven't gone out since (well, I did go running...but my house is attached to the gym). Speaking of which...

Eso me molestó.
Y no he salido de la casa desde la mañana (pues, corrí en el gimnasio, pero es adjuntado a mi casa)...Ah, eso me recuerda... 


8.) The dueño of my depa (apartment) spent 10 minutes lecturing me about how I need to eat more, especially as a vegan, especially because he never sees me eating, especially because I run. He asked me why I don't eat that much, and I said "I haven't been that hungry."

8.) El dueño de mi depa me habló durante 10 minutes, y me estaba diciendo que necesito comer más porque nunca me ve con comida, y especialmente porque me gusta correr. Me preguntó por qué no como mucho, y le dije que no he tenido mucho hambre. 

He looked at me skeptically.
That bothered me.

No me creyó.
Eso me molestó.


9.) When I decided to cook, my chickpeas had gone slightly sour. That wasn't a huge deal, as I had ample other things to prepare myself. But I love chickpeas, and so it made me sad.

9.) Decidí cocinar y descubrí que mis chickpeas se estropearon. Eso no fue algo muy grande ya que tenía muchas otras cosas que cocinar...pero me gustan los chickpeas, y por eso me puso triste. 


So there you have it, the story of my no good, very bad day (so far). Perhaps it will get better, perhaps it will get worse.

Bueno, aquí tienes mi historia del día horrible y molesto. Quizá vaya a mejorar. Quizá vaya a empeorar. 

Either way, it is what it is. Writing about it is cathartic, and reading it to myself makes me chuckle a little. So I suppose everything is fine, if I've ended up here with a smile on my face.

De cualquier manera, es lo que es. Escribir sobre estas cosas es catártico...y leerlo a mí misma me hacer reír un poco. Supongo que cosas no son tan malas si estoy sonriendo. 

The end.



Thursday, July 10, 2014

A Love Letter

I love Oaxaca.

I realize that this isn't a huge secret. But it is the truth. I just love it here.
I've been sick since before I got here...but do I care?

No.
How can I?
I'm in love with Oaxaca, and who can be sick when they are in love?

There's enough out there for me to enjoy that I find a way to conquer whatever it is that ails me, and put myself in the sun. On the terrace. In the streets.

I've been here a week, but it feels like forever....in the best way. Like the pieces finally fit. Like somehow, I was always here.

TCKs will understand this. For example, I was walking down the street thinking today about normal things: groceries, my plans for holidays, doctors appointments, hanging out with friends..

...and at no point did I stop to think, "In the next place I live, I'll...."

Nope. That door is closed for now. There is no next place I'd rather live. Not yet. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not next April.

I suppose I never stopped to think about what beautiful feels like.
But it feels like this.

And I hope someday, you find it too.

Sunday, July 6, 2014

The Angry Girl Rant.

I am not a cautionary tale.

I am your neighbor, your cousin, your daughter, friend, niece, sister, aunt... and I am an independent thinker, and I'm living my life as authentically as I can.

Unfortunately, there are those who exist in my life who find my way of thinking and living to be less than what they would imagine is acceptable.

Well, I'm just going to take off my filter and say one thing to you (*you* being a general, multiple bodied *you*):

I don't care what you think. The fact that you are putting my life under your microscope only tells me one thing: you want out of your own, and into mine. Otherwise, you wouldn't be meddling. You wouldn't have things to say.

Your disappointing behavior is bleeding jealousy everywhere.

My honest thoughts are...if you can't support me and/or at least try to understand the decisions I have made, am making, and will make...then you're just looking for one more thing to distract you from your own unfulfilling lot; I refuse to be that person for you.

And now, here's my unsolicited advice from me to you: wake up tomorrow, and do something different. Ask the questions you've been too afraid to ask. Do the thing you've been too afraid to do. Change the life you're tired of living.

But stay the hell away from mine until you've come to an adult understanding of what it means to live and let live.



Saturday, July 5, 2014

Vignettes.

Enjoy these interesting, weird moments from the last two days:

Yesterday, at approximately 9:45 AM, I was sitting in the Organic Market - enjoying some pomegranate. A man in his 60s sat right next to me, and then proceeded to say, "You are a beautiful woman." Then, he looked me up and down and as serious as can be he added: "Are you a vegetarian? You look like a vegetarian."

Say what? I mean, I am a vegan so...there's that.
But I guess I look like a vegetable eater.

I'll take it.

--

Yesterday, Lisa and I spent more time than is probably natural trying to figure out the difference between lemons & limes in Spanish (like, the word for them). After surveying multiple people, it turns out...they are the same. Lemons and limes are both "limón."

--

This afternoon, around 2:00 pm, I was in the very busy mercado. Someone tried to pick-pocket out of my beautiful orange bag, but it has velcro AND straps...so he got caught. Didn't he know I designed this bag specifically with him in mind? Anyway, it really freaked him out when I turned and looked him straight in the face. Then he hurried away.

--

Yesterday evening, I was out with some people for a little while...and ended up unfortunately situated amongst a group of drunk men who got in a beer fight, which almost turned into a real fight, which I was able to diffuse with my sober, rational, friendly words. Unfortunately, I still have to deal with my beer soaked sweater and jeans.

Jerks!

--

Yesterday morning, I was walking with Ryo & Lisa to the ICO when we came upon some little street dogs. I looked at one and she made eye contact with me...and proceeded to follow us almost the entire time. Poor little chica. She was so friendly, and just wanted a snack.

I named her Gomi. My other dog, from last year, lived in the Zocalo and her name was Basura. As you can see, I have a trend going. (Gomi: garbage - Basura: trash --- I name them this because it is 1.) how they are often treated, and 2.) what they eat).

--

The end.


Friday, July 4, 2014

The Day The Girl Came Home

Here I am, at 7:12 in the morning on the 4th of July - a Friday, propped up against the wall with my laptop balancing delicately over the tops of my thighs.

Outside my window, I can hear dogs barking, traffic beginning to stir...church bells, and kitchen utensils. Oaxaca has decided to wake up gently this morning.

The sun is up and out, but the morning rain clouds are preventing it from shining through my window. I should probably be sitting out on the amazing terrace overlooking the Guelagetza stadium on one side, and Santo Domingo on the other, but that would require a series of dressing, bug-repellent-applying, and possibly early morning socializing - none of which I'm quite ready for.

I'm sick.
I have been sick for several days.
Today, it seems to be less in my stomach and more in my chest/sinuses. But, if I have to be sick...I'd rather be it here.

I live in an apartment right in the heart of town. It's close to everything you could ever think of, and equally as equipped. I don't want for anything (except a rice cooker, which I will promptly purchase). José - the rad fellow who owns this place, and deserves a blog post devoted to him - has said I can have some plants if I want.

He laughed when I asked.
"Who asks a question like that?" He said.
"Well what if I bought them and you didn't like them?" I said.
"That's ridiculous." He replied...going on to tell me the best ways to tie up some tomato plants, if I get them, so that they grow just right.

The apartment I live in is more than just an apartment. It's not like what you're thinking, as far as in the USA. I do not have my own little isolation cage adorned with all the things everyone keeps in their isolation cages.  Nope. I have a private bedroom and bathroom, which opens up into communal spaces. The communal bar and living room. The communal terrace and dining area. The communal, and very well stocked, kitchen.

Last night, José, Margot, los franceses, and I passed a few hours on the terrace, chatting, making little plans and laughing while getting pumped for the futbol game -  sharing words, and time.

There are multiple studies that show that communal living makes for happier people. I believe it. What's the point of living if you're not sharing that experience with others?

So, here I am. I'm sick, underslept, and I'm still partially in bed.
But I'm happy.
How could I not be?



Monday, May 12, 2014

640 Things to Write About: Sniveling Jenny

Go to the Merriam-Webster Word of the Day website and write a story based on that word

Snivel: verb
1
: to run at the nose
2
: to snuff mucus up the nose audibly : snuffle
3
: to cry or whine with snuffling
4
: to speak or act in a whining, sniffling, tearful, or weakly emotional manner
Jenny, Fiona, and their boss, Elaine, had spent the entire morning in the office, slaving over their next big design project. Elaine had grandiose plans to roll out their plans for production at the end of the week, and because of this she was relying heavily on the editing eyes of Jenny and Fiona. 

Jenny, while the most traditionally education, also happened to be the least creative. Additionally, she suffered from an irrationally large ego, and above everything - including proving her worth in the workforce - she wanted to be acknowledged.

In hopes of winning kudos from her boss, Jenny never shared her actual feelings regarding any of Elaine's designs. It was always a simple, "I like it." or a "I wouldn't change a thing." or even a "It's very pretty."

Elaine would smile at these comments of affirmation, and then turn to Fiona, who would jump in a offer up changes in color or style (to which Elaine would offer more praise than Jenny had ever received). 

Things were no different that morning. Elaine showed a sketch, Jenny affirmed it, Fiona offered feedback, Elaine praised Fiona. Jenny received nothing.

Jenny had had enough. With an annoyed sigh, but without a single word, she stood up, left the office, and drove straight to her mother's house.

"I'm tired of living in Fiona's shadow. It's Fiona this and Fiona that, and oooh look at the ideas Fiona has!" she whined.

Her mom shot her an exasperated look. She was all too familiar with Jenny's antics.

"You want all of the credit, but you're too afraid to put yourself out there. I don't know what you think will come of you leaving the office to vent to me about it. Stop sniveling about how mistreated you are, and go back to work." her mother offered.

Jenny opened her mouth to complain once more, but her mother silenced her with a single, raised hand.

On that, Jenny turned around, and headed back towards the office. 

Thursday, May 8, 2014

To Fern: 641 Things To Write About

A houseplant is dying. Tell it why it needs to live.

Dear Fern,

Please do not give up.
I need you to live so that you can filter the putrid air in my home into fine, clean oxygen for my breathing pleasure.

I know what you're thinking - where's the justice?
I can tell in the way you shiver your fronds when I steal your babies for the same calling.

Is it unfair for me to say...this is what you were made for?
So please, open your little fronds to the sunlight, have some water and
just breathe...

Nikki