Put A Smile On Your Face.

Growing up (and even now) my dad would always tell us that happiness is a choice.
He would say that when you wake up, you get to decide: Am I going to be happy today? Or am I going to be (insert unhappy emotion here).

Now, he'd typically say this when one of us kids was in a particularly bad mood, and hearing that we were choosing to be in a bad mood often just made us (more) mad.

And maybe at that age it wasn't totally a choice; a lot of it was hormonal.
But, there was still some choice involved.

Now that I'm a rational, grown human being I can easily understand where he was coming from with that little bit of insight.

He's right.
He's always been right.

Every day, I wake up and I get to choose the path my day will take; it's always easier to take the positive path.

Even on a bad day, or when things get rough...it's still easier to be positive, to choose to be happy in spite of the issues.

Life was never made easier by frowning or wallowing.
So, yes. Sometimes life gets weird and hard. Sometimes a miserable day is absolutely necessary.
Sometimes life throws curveballs.

But life is too short to waste it feeling sorry for ourselves...for wallowing, for worrying, for anger.
Instead, we should look ahead towards the things we know we enjoy, and move through our struggles with a positive attitude.

Way more can be done to address what's bothering you if you carry a clear head on your shoulders, and a smile on your face.

And now for a list of 10 things that make me happy:
1.) butterflies
2.) snuggling with babies
3.) the trike (a motorcycle)
4.) good friends
5.) fresh pressed juices
6.) avocados
7.) sunshine
8.) learning new things
9.) daisies
10.) running

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.

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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."

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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.

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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!

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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).

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The end.

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.  

A Baby Bat, Bat, Bat.

When I was a kid, I loved to read.

Who am I kidding? I still love to read.

Anyway, when I was a kid...I loved to read. I loved As Long As I Love You and The Secret Three and Big Sarah's Little Boots and Stella Luna. I loved a lot of books, but I think I can clearly point to Stella Luna as the book that piqued my interest about the world. I remember asking questions about the world (maybe not earth shattering questions, but definitely big questions for a 5 year old): Would a bird really raise a baby bat as it's own? Is it okay to be different? Why do bats love fruit so much?

So I embarked on a journey to answer all my questions, born of literature! Eventually, I found the answers...

I guess now is a good time to tell you that Stella Luna also instilled within me a deep love for bats. Maybe it was because I was so happy that this bat found acceptance or something. Maybe I just really thought all bats were misunderstood (actually, I do feel this way...). I researched bats constantly. Big bats. Small bats. Fruit bats. Vampire bats. The benefits of adding bat guano to your garden. What to do with an injured bat.

I loved looking at bats at the zoo. Or watching them fly over-head at night.

So, you can imagine exactly how thrilled I was when I found one trapped in my hallway the other day. He landed on a little ledge and peeked at me, pretty much telling me he needed me. You don't understand how excited I was! I dropped my trash bags and I said (out loud) "I am in a hallway with a bat. I will save you, bat!"

So I ran upstairs, got a stool and a bowl and a cloth and ran back down to save my precious bat friend. He was such a good sport, like he knew I was going to make things all better. He just let me put him in the bowl (and then he started baring all his teeth and making noises...until he found the orange I left him as a treat). I took him upstairs and for a good 5 minutes all I could do is say "I have a bat. In a bowl. I have a bat in my possession, in a bowl. Right now, I am interacting with a bat."

He and I shared an hours worth of adventures, and then I took him to the wildlife rehab center where they will take care of him until spring, when he can be released again.

But in my hour with my bat I wondered - how had he gotten into my hallway? Was he raised by birds? How did that bat know I wanted to meet him so badly?!

I thought for a while about how my crazy love for this little bat had all been born in one afternoon, curled up with Stella Luna on my lap. I hadn't ever truly thought about the influence books can have on people until my interaction with Hector (my bat). How different might things have been if I'd never read that little book? If I'd never learned to love bats through reading?

It may seem ridiculous but reading Stella Luna as a child literally changed my life! It really makes me wonder how the other texts I encounter are constantly changing the way I interact with the world (is this transaction theory?)

...and it's a beautiful, amazing and terrifying thing.