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!