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.

Music Monday!

Writing: From the Vault

The Lackawanna Valley (name of the painting)

Industry, sitting on the face of nature.

You ravage her, rape her, deface her.

Industry, you blow your steam on nature.

And when you do, you hurt her. You poison her air.

A child, watching you chug-chug-chug along

Smiles on the dawning of a new era.

Industry, you look so glorious

But behind your mask, you are just a corporate patron

You ravage and rape and deface her for money.

A hit man, a gangster, a terrorist doing only as your told.