shades of last year

Well, here I am in Zacatecas (news alert!), trying to kill time while I wait for a backup to complete. One of the great, great things here has been that I've been learning spanish, as you know. Incredibly, I've been able to work out a deal with the spanish school so that I do computer work for them, and they give me a deal on classes. I don't think I'd have been able to stay in classes this long without such a deal, so it's been key.

And so, here I find myself, back aching, head dizzy from gas heating, occasionally frustrated from failed backups along the way, hating Windows with all my heart for it's virus-vulnerable self, and thinking about how a year ago, I was probably in a pretty similar situation. Arturo Jr's laptop has been limping along for some time with a nasty trojan living in his system, and no amount of utilities have been able to root it out. Finally, we decided to backup, format and reinstall the operating system. Boy, do I wish we could just install Mac OS. Does it have problems, sure. But, and I say this based only on my experience, not nearly as many.

I'll tell you though, I'm happy having something to do this afternoon that involves some slight skill that I have.

To Stare or Not to Stare...

Why the hell isn't that the question?? With the answer being NOT to stare!
Ok, I admit, I had been living in New York City for the past number of years before coming here to Zacatecas (google alert!), and NYC is one of the most culturally diverse cities in the world, if not the most. You can walk down the street in New York and see anything and everything, so after a while you get numb. Granted.

Still! What is it that makes people here stare sooo much? I really feel like I'm developing some sort of complex. It is literally impossible for me to walk more than 10 feet from my door without being stared at in an intense way.

Now - I understand that I'm a tall-ish gringo, and that there aren't that many around here, but it's not like I look particularly strange, do I?!?
(Please see 'complex, development of' above)
I mean, I don't have piercings, tattoos of any kind - much less something stareworthy on my forehead, a wacky haircut, or an extra limb. Yes, I have grey(ing) hair, but I just don't think that's it.

I walk along and folks just stop in their tracks - not in the 'hey, check out that stud' way, more like 'holy crap, you're not going to believe what I saw today - the craziest thing in the entire world' kind of way. It's not even like people try to be subtle about it either; No side-glance out of the corner of the eye, no quick turn-around right after passing me by, no effort made whatsoever to mask their open-mouthed and wide-eyed look.

A favourite of mine has got to be when they're walking towards me. They glance up slightly, as always, just to make it's not the money-giving-away guy, and then let their eyes fall back down. But wait - this guy is the most far-out freakishly insane person - nay, thing - that I've ever seen! I know what I'll do...stop in my tracks and stand very, very still. Then, when it can no longer see me, because I'm standing so still, I'll focus my gaze on it in an incredibly intense fashion.

That's right - it's common theory here that if a person, A, is standing very very still with their eyes, E, focused on an approaching object, B, then they bend the accepted laws of physics and become invisible, I. So, in mathematical terms terms, that's A+E B=I
I wish I had the heart to stop and say, "hey there, I can see you, you know". Or maybe not...I'm not sure I want to be responsible for BLOWING THEIR FREAKING MINDS.

I'm sure I'll have more to say about this particular subject...it's definitely something I think about constantly...ARRRRGGHHHH

Juices, creative and otherwise

Yes, it's that time of year, when people start to wonder about many things: When did summer end? Why am I not living somewhere warm, like Mexico? Why is it, now that I'm living in Mexico, I have to wear thermals, a wool sweater, a fleece, and a jacket in order to be warm?

Well, I'm sure there are plenty of answers to these questions, but they are way parallel to my pay grade, so won't get a proper response in this forum. Suffice to say, not all Mexico is created equal. Just last weekend, we went to Guadalajara for a couple days - about 4.5 hours away - and the temperature was drastically different. Not drastic in a purely numeral sense, but drastic in a more holistic sense. That is, we not only didn't have to wear all the same cold-weather gear we need here in Zacatecas, but we didn't feel the same chill deep down in our bones, that no amount of warm clothing can banish. T-shirts during the day, sweater at night...mmm. It just feels more happy.

And now, tonight, Hanukah will be here. Festival of Lights. La Fiesta de las Luces, or something like that. I imagine we'll be the only people in Zacatecas lighting candles tonight, and that's a little sad-like. Who knows, maybe far up on the Bufa a small, flickering light will shine forth that will announce to all the world that long ago, in a land far away, there was a miracle of oil that lasted for 8 days. On the other hand, it would probably be interpreted as some kind of drug gang signal and get shot at, or something. I wonder if the Maccabees had to deal with such problems.

Oh yeah, don't see 2012, no matter how much I say that it could be ok with all the cool special effects and stuff. And that it (briefly) mentions the Mayans, so how could we not see it?
I listened to me, and was pretty disappointed.

Annoying thing

People here just don't want to stop for people trying to crosthe street. I get pissed about this multiple times each day.

Just saying.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

spanish, hombre

learning the spanish is rough.
5 hours a day for 41/2 months.
tiring and my head is so full.
worth it, though, when i communicate with someone.

Fashion! Ooooooh.....Fashion!!

That's right - last night we went to the world-wide premiere opening of the first ever Fashion Week Zacatecas, right here in our very own - Zacatecas!

Fashion TV decided to showcase the silver-designing awesomeness of Zacatecas (Zacatecas!) and tape a full-on cat-walking fashion show in the same plaza that has hosted a hunger-striking torero (he wasn't getting enough bull-killing time).

Our friend E, a local impresario, scored us the tickets and there we were, but 30 feet from...the models feet! The weather, cold, was not our friend. Time passed and finally, the flat-panel TVs mounted all around came to life, with shots of the showcase city of the night; the center of fashion for just a few hours...New York City. What!?

Turns out that they had a gala party/awards ceremony sometime in the last couple weeks in NYC and they showed clips from it for a good 15 minutes, cutting back and forth to scenic shots of Zacatecas. I was pretty sure what the point of the comparison was - they're the exact same level of awesomeness.

Anyway, that ended and weak DJ music started thumping out of the huge speakers. The (famous?) model who was in the video living it up at Rockefeller Center, strolled out to absolute silence. Not one person clapped and she was a bit surprised. It was obvious that this wouldn't fly for the broadcast, so she was all like, I'm going to come in again and this time cheer! Second time was only barely better and I'm sure they'll be getting an applause track from somewhere.

The show started and the women busted out one by one: butterfly wings of all shapes and colors, worn with very small underwear. It wasn't obvious when one was meant to wear this sort of outfit, but I'm sure they'll be all the rage sometime soon.

The insect-inspired walk-off turned into a medley of designers, each showcasing really tall, hungry, greased-up women that have "that" look and a messed up walk. Here's a question: The fashion is the height of fashion. The women are the ultimate ideal. Is the walk the best walk ever? It looks terribly uncomfortable and, I believe, really unrealistic for hiking.

The cold got to be too much, and we left, our fashion adventure behind us like last years wardrobe.

The beach - Sayulita

So this past weekend, we had a pretty cool adventure.

We got some tickets to see The Killers in Guadalajara on Thursday night. We figured we'd make a weekend out of it, since we already were driving 4 hours there. We ended up renting a car with some people from here and drove down on Thursday afternoon. We had made plans to stay in Guadalajara that night and in the morning drive down to somewhere on the Pacific coast. We figured we'd find a cool town on the beach to get some serious sun and sand.

We got to Guadalajara with just enough time to shovel down a meal that, sadly, was one of the best I've had since we've been here. Sadly, because I would have loved to have more time to savor it, but oh well.

Me and M went over to the concert hall, a large auditorium that holds about 11,500. The place was totally crowded with more Killers shirt-wearing people than I had imagined. Our tickets were for the standing room only area right in front of the stage, which was really cool. We were up close and in the thick of it.

After the last couple songs from the opener, The Killers came out, and, I'll admit, totally shocked me with how good they were. I've heard their albums and am familiar with their big songs, but the live show was totally great. A pretty straight-forward rock band with good presence, good live renditions of their songs and an audience that couldn't have been more into it - the ridiculously massive cups of beer could have helped…

It's fun to see people singing along with songs in english when there's a good chance that they don't know what they're singing.

After the show, we met up with the others at an overwhelming bar of Cuban descent, where the music was too loud, and I just wasn't that into it. We headed back to the hostel, which was a pretty nice place. By the time we got back there, I was basically ready to crash, and so we did. It was the first time in a while that I slept in a dorm-style hostel room, but other than the terrible pillow, it wasn't so bad.

We spent a while navigating the one-way streets of Guadalajara, trying to figure out how to reach the Starbucks around the corner, and then got on the road. The hostel guy had given us some info about a town about 30 minutes north of Puerto Vallarta, called Sayulita. He said they have a cool place to camp right on the beach and that everyone he has sent there was happy with what they found. Seeing as how we didn't really have any other ideas, we made that our destination.

We chose to drive what's called the autopista - a toll road that turned out to be freshly paved, straight and relatively empty of cars. It made for a fast, comfortable drive - or at least as fast as our crappy rental car could go. The road passes through some of the most amazing scenery that I've seen in a long time, if ever. Huge, beautiful, green mountains, lush countryside with fields of blue agave growing - at least in Jalisco, where tequila comes from, deep valleys with farms, small pueblos, large fields of black volcanic rock….and so on. Just awesome, especially coming from the high mountain deserts of Zacatecas. The weather also started to change in a good way. By the time we hit the last toll and pulled over for a bathroom break, I needed to change into shorts, tshirt and flip-flops - the temperatures were up close to 90 degrees. Definitely a welcome change from the 50s and 60s of Zacatecas.

After driving for a while after leaving the toll road, and being extremely excited to see the ocean after 3 months (longest I've ever gone without seeing it…) we finally saw the sign for Sayulita. Driving down a smallish, barely paved road, we pulled into town and immediately saw lots of surfer dudes and dudettes carrying boards, walking barefoot and spending lots of dollars.

Signs of it being a small town, no matter how expensive or full of USers: a road bisected by a stream that had to be driven through, no big hotels in sight, nor any condos that were obvious.

After getting a few beers to temper the long-and-crowded-car-ride jitters, we found the camping place and "checked in". It seemed that they were doing some upgrades to the place, so it was kind of like camping in a construction site, to some degree. It was right on the beach, however, so it worked out just fine. As we found out, this was no cheap town, but rather the prices were more on par with the US - they even had ATMs that gave out US dollars. Oy.

After getting our tents set up, and our bathing suits on, we hit the beach for a couple hours, mostly sitting at one of the little restaurants right on the sand. M was about as happy as she could be, finally getting to eat some fresh whole fish, just caught that morning. The water was as warm as bath water - just perfect as far as I was concerned.

Once night fell, we ate again, walked around some and ended up chilling in the town square, beers in hand. The cops didn't seem to care at all, since they just mentioned it once and then didn't bother us again. We were talking to a couple guys we met who were about to open a restaurant in town and ended up going back to their place for some food and drinks. Cool. Most people we met were pretty friendly. It was weird - like in San Miguel - to hear so much english being spoken. It was even almost a bit annoying to go into a store and have the workers talk to me in english. I definitely prefer to try and deal in spanish.

The next day, we got up, hit the beach, and didn't leave until much later. I took a surf lesson (!) which was absolutely fantastic. I was up on my feet my very first try, and rode about 10 waves before my arms gave out. I had no idea just how arm-strength intensive it was. I'm probably really ripped right now, so watch out.

Surfing was really really fun, and I can't wait to do it again. It was slightly intimidating, because there's all these rules and stuff, that aren't exactly clear, and people can get pretty worked up about them. Oh yeah - dealing the US-woman who owns the surf place I went to was interesting - she was slightly racist-seeming, going on about these people this, and these people that…talking about their no-good work ethics, and low levels of morality.

Hm.

After the lesson, I spent a few hours boogie-boarding, which is a lot easier, and pretty fun too. The waves were good-sized, and allowed for some fun rides.

The next day, it was up, packing and on the road. I ended up driving most of the 9 or so hours, which actually wasn't bad at all. The weather got progressively colder, and by the time we were home, the warm was gone and the cold was back.

Next week, we're back to the coast of Sinaloa for work, so stay tuned...

Preguntas/Questions

Here's a bunch of questions I could have gotten from you, my listeners, but didn't:

How was Aguascalientes this past weekend? Has it gotten any better since the you were there last and declared it one of the worst places you've ever visited?

What's the deal with Dia de los Muertos down there in Mexico?

How's spanish school these days? Have you started any technical grammatical analysis yet?

Now, in order, the answers:

Aguascalientes - a city about 2 hours from Zacatecas - was ok, I guess. We went for the Festival de Calveras, or Festival of Skulls, an annual shindig to celebrate Dios de los Muertos. We had checked out the schedule beforehand and seen that there was going to be an Israel pavilion and some bands from Israel playing, so we decided to go. We stayed at a crappy, but clean hotel on a street that's just begging to have more happening but there just isn't enough...people, bars, restaurants...I don't know.

Anyway, Aguas is totally flat and pretty uninteresting. There's a very few cool things to see - the Palacio del Gobierno is a beautiful building with a ton of murals painted all over the inside, there's a big cathedral which looks like...a big cathedral, and the Sanborns has a nice awning, which may or may not be of Art Deco design.

Yeah, that's about it.

For shopping, there's a lot of stores to check out. It seems, however, that most of the stores carry the kind of crap that you see occasionally and wonder, "where the hell did they get that thing?" It turns out that Aguascalientes is just the place to go shopping for that crap. The shiny, the strange, the miniature, the fake-looking, the that-reminds-me-of-something-else. In short, the knick-knack, the tchochke, the chingadera.

They have it all.

As for the festival, well, it was ok. There weren't any stands set up selling stuff like at the big fair here in Zacateas, which was just fine. The Israel pavilion consisted of a bunch of pictures (clearly skewed Christian for the audience), some bottles of wine (to show up the crappy Mexican wines?) and some heavily pop-rock influenced klezmer band. They didn't even have any felafel or anything. Lame.

Highlights of Aguascalientes: Trees, fresh ground coffee from beans grown in the south of Mexico, a bakery that sells only whole-wheat products where they had a close approximation to the bread that my mom makes and I sorely miss, and the fact that it's only two hours to get home.

Wow. I hope I don't have to go back.

Dia de los Muertos is a holiday on November 2, preceded by All-Saints Day and Halloween. It's one of the indigenous holidays that was mixed up with Christianity when the Spanish conquered the area. They figured that if they could blend some indigenous stuff with Christian stuff, the natives would be a lot more amenable to converting. It seems to have worked.

They celebrate by having lots of skulls and skeletons around, eating sweet bread and candy and visiting the graves of loved ones. They go to the graves to clean them, adorn them flowers, and basically hang out with the souls of those who have passed on. One of the ideas is that death isn't the end, but rather passing on into another stage of existence. The go to put food, drink, flowers, play music, etc so that the souls come back to visit and are stoked to see their favourite stuff waiting for them. I think it's a nice thing to see whole families doing all this work around the graves, adults and kids alike. It seems like it fosters a good relationship with the idea of death - that's it's not necessarily something to be scared of, but just another part of the big picture.

Good stuff.

Spanish school is good, and yes, we have started in on some technical grammatical analysis in fact. Kind of weird/creepy that you knew to ask that, as we just started today, but whatever....

I'll have to get back to you on what it entails - I'll keep you posted.

weekend weekend

what a weekend of cultural experience.

I bumped into our friend Shirani and he said that he was going to a concert of this band, Infected Mushroom. Turns out, they're Israeli, so we obviously had to go. I mean, the Jewish population of Zacatecas would be at least double what it normally is on any given weekend, and we had to be there.

The show was called for 8pm, but with some openers, so we figured if we got there at 10pm, the main act would be coming on. Showing up at the Dome (or whatever the concert venue is called), we see a really long line wrapping around the parking lot. There must be some mistake...it's close to 10:30 and all these people haven't gotten in yet??

We get in line and we don't move more than 20 feet in about 20 minutes. After a quick reconnaissance mission, we realize that there's literally one guy at the entrance who's patting everyone down. This was inefficient, slow, and we should have known.

Finally getting inside, there's a decent crowd of people milling around. There was a VIP section right in front of the stage, fenced off and filled with tables, chairs and couches. I think this was not a good idea for a show at which people are meant to dance, but ok. There was a DJ going through his set - decent, but definitely not great. It really seems that it's just too easy to be a mediocre DJ. I mean, beats dropping, crowd energy wasted...just not that great.

Weird thing #1: On the big projector screen on stage, behind the DJ was playing massive advertisements the whole time. Why not have trippy video instead?

After the first few DJs, and close to midnight, we finally asked someone working there when the main act would come out. Oh, after 7 DJs, he said. Probably close to 1:30.

Oh.

At that, I went to the bathroom - again. The beer was running through me at lightning speed and with each trip to the urinal costing 3 pesos, I ended up spending almost as much on that as I did on Coronas. The wall towards the back of the venue that everyone else seemed to be using looked pretty nice by the end.

Awesome Idea #1: We wrote a note in hebrew and gave it to the security guy by the stage entrance to pass along to the band. We told him that we know them from Israel and wanted him to pass the note on to their manager or something. In the note, we wrote that we told the security people that we know them. We said we're the only Jews in Zacatecas, and because of that, they should call us and do some partying. Awesome Idea, no phone call. Oh well.

So finally this Israeli band comes on, and they're decent, at least. Not sure if they were worth waiting 3 hours to see, but good enough to get some dancing done. It was cool, for sure, to hear some hebrew being sung right here in good ol'Zacatecas.

New York, New York

That's right folks, we were in the Big Apple for about a week - sorry we didn't have the chance to hang out. If you saw the post below, you'd know why.

It was definitely interesting going back there, even though it'd only been about 3 months since we left.

There were a bunch of things that stuck out in my mind as part of the culture-shocking. Here's two of them:

First, there is nothing like drinking water straight from the tap. Down here, we use purified water (delivered weekly in big jugs) for absolutely everything from drinking to tooth-brushing to cooking. It's just such a luxury to walk over to the sink and fill up a glass of water (or put my mouth under the tap, as I'm wont to do). I really didn't miss the feeling of "damn...no more water and there's no where to buy any now, so I won't be drinking anything until morning..." or kicking myself for rinsing my toothbrush off in the sink, rather than with the bottled water. I mean, I did have typhoid and all, and they did tell me that even just that little bit of water from the sink could have caused it...

Second (and this is an interesting one) is the total lack of diversity in Zacatecas, if not all of Mexico.

I mean, you walk around New York City and you see someone from literally everywhere. Every color, every accent, every everything (not to mention all their food too...mmm). Here, we are the diversity. Everyone is Mexican and us gringos provide all the "different" there is to see. Of course, I am discounting to some degree the huge variety of different peoples in Mexico - there's a lot of indigenous people here - but it just seems like we're the ones who look different.

Other things: english, while strange to hear in Zacatecas and definitely worth turning around to see who's talking, is common in many neighborhoods in NYC. It's rarely worth turning around.

Celebrities in New York I saw: Mario Batali with his trademark orange crocs and Chelsea Clinton, whom we sat next to at a restaurant.

Bagels, pizza, coffee, vegetables, etc. Yes. Yes. Yes.

We walked through the farmer's market in Union Square the other day and one thought kept coming to me. If there's no typhoid in any of the produce, where does the excitement come from?? I mean, without that risk every time you take a bite, is eating even fun? I hope I'm not ruined forever on food that doesn't carry at least a small chance of getting me violently ill.

a week

so here's what's up -

Last week, we were trucking along here in Zacatecas and got some sad news that M's grandmother would likely not live much longer. While not sick, per say, she was about 100 years old and just not able to keep going. I will say that I have only met two people of that age that were as with it (or more so) than people half that age - strangely enough they were both M and my grandmothers. Reading the NY Times everyday, watching TV, movies, sports, keeping up on current affairs...wow

We decided to fly home (?) to New York to see her and be with the family. Luckily we were there for about 5 days before she gave out and were able to spend some time with her. It was just amazing how

aware she was of everything and everyone around her. She knew perfectly well that we came from Mexico to see her (she asked if were learning spanish and offered to teach us hungarian) and couldn't have been happier.

She also knew exactly what was happening with her and seemed very well prepared. This was a first experience for me in that there didn't seem to be a tragedy in death - for some reason it just didn't seem like the same sadness you would expect. The sadness was there, of course, because a wonderful woman wouldn't be with us anymore; because her family would miss her terribly; because she had a particular way of being that is rare to see - especially in a woman who lived through so much and who lost so much. She just seemed to have an incredible sense of clarity and dignity about the process.

It was truly an inspiring thing to see. She will be missed.

Today

We went for a walk today, to a part of Zacatecas that we'd never seen. Called La Encantada, there's a small man-made pond, trees, a jogging path, zoo, bbq picnic areas, concert stage, geodesic domes, ducks, and...lots lots more. It was so great to hang out on a grass lawn under a bunch of trees.

The zoo is kind of depressing, however. There's a lot of animals in small cages who would definitely be much happier elsewhere - much like zoos many places, I imagine.

We also found a sports center that has an awesome pool. We want to think we're going to join. Go team.

Tomorrow, the plan is to climb one of our local mountains. Root for us, and assuming all goes well, we'll speak then.

Love,

Z

And now, for something completely different

Different because, for the first time, we were told someone would show up to do something and IT ACTUALLY HAPPENED.
Now, we have Internet. Got my wireless set up and, baby, we are online.

Things are coming together...though why havin Internet signifies that in my mind, I don't know. I'm sure it's a sign of something unhealthy.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Mexico City

Some things that struck me about our visit to Mexico City last week...

Stop signs and red lights are to be taken as suggestions, nothing more. Do not assume that any prior knowledge you have about traffic patterns and rules will apply here. They do not. Or they do. Assume at your own risk.

Every house in the admittedly wealthy neighborhood where we were staying had 20-foot high fences with massive electric gates and high-voltage fences. Not only this, but they have gates at the end of each block manned by private security guards. This seems like a stressful way to live. I found out that I have a cousin that moved their family to Miami a couple months ago because they were too worried about getting kidnapped constantly.

That also seems like it would be a stressful way to live.

We, as gringos, get stared at constantly, even in the insanely huge city that is Mexico City. This is different than New York City. I could walk around looking crazier than all get out in NYC and not get a second glance. Here, all it takes is slightly less melatonin and a Lonely Planet guidebook to feel like a freak of nature.

Time, as Einstein figured out, is relative. We tried to go to the Palacio Belles Artes in order to see one of Diego Rivera's murals. The guidebook, signs, and other literature all said that it closes at 6pm. We arrive shortly before 5:30pm and are told that we can't come in because it's closed. Pointing at the signs and sputtering in barely intelligible Spanglish doesn't seem to help. We walk away, frustrated.

In 1978, underneath a section of the Centro Historico, they discovered partial ruins of a massive Aztec temple structure. In order to excavate the relatively small area that they dug up, it was necessary to destroy a number of colonial-era buildings and infrastructure. I believe this was a good idea. Of course, it led me to fantasize (yes, to have fantasies) about all the other incredible things that must be under all the other buildings they left standing.

For those who don't know, Mexico City used to be a large lake, in the middle of which sat an island city that the Aztecs built. It was reached by a series of roads they made from the shore, like a bunch of bicycle spokes. Over time this lake was filled in and built upon. This has caused the cities buildings to sink over the years, and is a constant issue. Mexico City is sinking.

Frida Kahlo's house is pretty cool. The walls are painted a blue that I would use to paint everything, if I could. We were only able to see a small sampling of paintings due to the refurbishing of much of the house. This seemed to be a pretty standard excuse for a number places we wanted to see.

Still, her garden was (kind of) worth the visit.

Fact: Leon Trotsky lived out his days (until he was stabbed to death with an ice pick) in Mexico City, first staying with Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera, later, in his own compound a few blocks away. His house is curiously preserved, almost creepily so. His towel hangs on a rack, his toothpaste on the sink, clothing in the closet, toilet left unflushed. Not really, but it wouldn't have been shocking the way the rest of the place was kept. His ashes are there, in a monument with the hammer and sickle carved into it and the soviet flag flying overhead. He's the only one of the original Russian revolutionaries never to have been "rehabilitated" by the USSR. Seemed like a nice-enough guy. In the end, as you know, Stalin got to him.

The subways in Mexico City are pretty great. Very cheap (20cents a ride), very fast and very efficient. They are all color-codeda and each stop has a symbol associated with it. This is because back in the 60s when it was built, there was a shockingly high percentage of the population that was illiterate. The illustrations served that portion of the population. This was a good idea.

A lot of people seem to blurt out different things in english, almost like a burp or a fart, only without saying "excuse me" afterwards. An example comes to mind.

We were standing in front of a building that contains more Diego Rivera murals but was closed due to more mysterious refurbishing, trying to decide what to do instead. A man came up to us, and with no introduction or encouragement, declared, "Mexico! Mexico City!" and then walked away. Obviously, we agreed with him, but couldn't figure out the proper reply in time. Clearly, this was a missed opportunity for bridging some sort of cultural divide

Yom Kippur in Guadalajara

We just spent Yom Kippur in Guadalajara, the closest place to Zacatecas with a synogogue. M and I came down here with friend Ben, who is visiting us for a few days while on assignment as the Wandering Jew (blogs.jta.org/wanderingjew).
He arranged for us to attend a couple different synagogues in the community. These visits, and subsequent interviews with community members and rabbis, would form the basis for some of the stories that he would be writing about Jews and Jewish things around the world.
The fast went by well enough and Yom Kippur ended with a blast by about 12 shofars, which was cool. We were invited to break our fast at the home of the president of the larger congregation, a woman named Fanny.
We drove over there with her and sat down at a large table with a few other people. The food was...food, and definitely good enough to eat after a lomg 25 hours. By the end, it was us, her husband, her mother, sister and brother-in-law, son, and various cousins.
We were talking about where we were from, what we were doing in Mexico and so on. It came up that I am a Rubenstein and I mentioned that I have family in Mexico City. Fanny's mom asked, "oh? What Rubensteins? Jackie? Annette?"
"Actually, yes!" I exclaimed.
I proceeded to explain that we had met them for the first time over Rosh Hashana.
"Then" she said," we are cousins too!"
Turns out that she's a cousin of the cousins we stayed with, and, yet again, the world grew even smaller.

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Internet, or lack thereof

So, we moved into a new house the other day. We'll be sharing it with a few other people from our office, and it's totally awesome.

We needed to order internet for the house, however. Luckily, Antonio, one of the housemates, ran into a guy offering a deal on broadband. They set up for the guy to come by the house yesterday evening for me to see the details and sign a contract. So, the guy shows up, and we have a hard time communicating. Finally, we reach some sort of agreement and I sign some papers (3MB, 340 pesos/month). I pay him the 99 pesos for the installation and he asks when I can be around for the installers to come. Anytime after 2:30pm is fine for me, I say, but until what time would they apossibly come? Oh, he says, until about 6pm or so.

Great, I say. We shake hands and off he goes.

It's only later that it occurs to me that I have no idea on what day...

Rooftop sitting

Isn't it interesting how it can rain pretty much every afternoon, always around the same time? During the rainy season, at least. You can see the rain clouds so clearly too. There's a pretty decent sky all around, then a big dark cloud show up, slowly rolls overhead and starts to rumble.

Soon, drops start to fall, slowly at first then faster. The wind picks up, the drum and horn band over by the plaza kicks in. More drops, the band supplemented by the deep thunder - unless it's the other way around.
Drops everywhere now - it's bad but it'll get worse.
Can barely hear the band now, the rain drowns it all out. Car alarms, set off by the thunder, the band, or the occasional fireworks. A stray clear bit of sky makes for a brief reprieve but it's chased away by a stronger darker cloud.

Finally, the umbrella just isn't doing a job it was never meant to do. I'm getting wet.

Cuidado, Baby

We away for Labor Day Weekend (yes, we celebrated with a long weekend, just like at home) with our friends Kate and Antonio, who work at the CDM, and Amanda, a friend from spanish school, to San Miguel de Allende.

If you aren't familiar with SMA, it's a medium-sized town about 4 hours north of Mexico City, just around halfway to Zacatecas. At one point, it was, and still claims to be, an artists colony of sorts, but it functions more as a retirement community for folks from the US (notice I don't say americans - it's because mexicans see themselves as americans as well...and they are). It's quite like a DisneyLand version of Mexico, with it's beautifully maintained streets and buildings, etc. Of course, this is only in the center of the town. A ten minute walk away lives everyone else. The people who retire here are able to live for a lot less than in the US, assuming they bought an apartment or house before the prices rose into the millions in US dollars. Crazy. We did see some awfully big houses, some of them nice looking too. There's a lot of talk about how people live on their Social Security checks, but honestly, I don't think that's realistic. We talked to one woman who bought a house here in 1986 for 12,000USD and it sold recently, though not by her, for over 400,000USD. Like I said, we saw some sweet places, but the 2,500,000USD for a house there just seems a bit excessive.

There's a ton of restaurants, which was actually really exciting after the eh food here in Zacatecas. The restaurants were actually pretty pricey, though the food was pretty decent. The wierdest thing about the place is that there is very little spanish spoken. Most of the old white people don't seem to speak it. We went to this one italian restaurant where the waiter asked us to speak english as he doesn't speak spanish well - he's from Italy. It was really different from being in Zac., where no one speaks english except for the people you already know. I like speaking spanish.

We stayed at a hostel that right on the edge of the centro. It was a nice place, that was almost empty, so that was cool.

There was a woman staying there who was probably more than a bit mentally ill. We had a bunch of weird interactions, one of them involving her wearing a strange blonde wig and claiming it was in honor of Madonna having passed away that evening. She came out for a drink with us and said some strange stuff about all kinds of things. We ended up that first night at Limericks, a Guinness-serving Irish bar, according to Lonely Planet. Of course, they had no Guinness, so I settled for a wheat beer from the tap.

Awesome interaction: I was going to the bathroom through a relatively crowded outdoor patio and tripped over a foot. An arm reached out and grabbed mine to keep me upright. "Cuidado, baby" said a deep voice ("careful, baby"). I look up and a huge black guy is holding me up. He was the first black man I'd seen in Mexico and he'd been living here for, I think, around 16 years or so. A nice guy, but I had to get to the bathroom, so we didn't speak long.

I just love that - cuidado, baby.

Anyway, it rained crazy hard the next day, when we tried to go to a cool botanical garden place. We hung around under a shelter for a bit, but took off once it was clear it would keep raining for a while. The rain got so intense there was literally flooding in the streets. The water was about 5-6 inches deep in some places, if not deeper, and it was actually like a rushing river at times. The town is on a hillside, so it all goes right downhill, making these little rivers on many of the streets.

We just kind of walked around the town, ate some good food, including at an almost-vegetarian restauran, and slept. On the way out of town on Monday, we stopped at a pretty nice hot springs, about 20 minutes away. Natural hot springs, are cool, and being that there's not really anywhere to swim in Zacatecas, it felt really good to submerge myself in water.

Ok. More later.

New Pics Up --------->

Hospital, the end

So it was all night long with the IV bags, getting them changed every few hours. It didn't bother me though, I slept right through the whole thing. The lovely M stayed by my side the whole night, sleeping in the airplane seat (and ending up with a sore neck for days). Some interesting/scary things about the hospital: no soap in the bathrooms, no toilet paper in the bathrooms, no windows in the room.

The next day, I was discharged in the late afternoon and told to come back for the next 3 days and get some more antibiotics. It was decided (by me) to leave the IV port in and not get shots in my butt instead. Actually, when we were originally talking about what my treatment would be, the butt-shots were an option, but that it would be really painful and over a long period of time. The doc convinced me that 24 hours in the hospital would be better for me - with the obvious benefits of no painful shots.

The doctor also gave me some prescriptions for different drugs to help my intestines and other parts recover. I went straight to the pharmacy to get the scrips filled and was (relatively) shocked again when I was told that the prescription HAD to be a mistake, as they never,ever give that drug for a week. In fact, they never give it for more than 2 days.

Great. In the end, I asked a couple other doctors (including the husband of my spanish teacher) and was told that, indeed, just 2 days of that particular drug was the correct amount.

Absolutely confidence inspiring.

So one day of antibiotics in the IV - no problems. Two days, no problem. On the third day, I go in and it seems there's a problem with the IV - it got blocked up somehow. Well, I wasn't ready for a shot yet, so I suggested to try to put an IV in the other arm...and no go.

Turn over, the nurse says, this one's gotta go in your behind.

Whoa! But, but, but...to no avail...I rolled over, bit my shirt, and walked out with a bruise the size of an orange and couldn't sit for 5 hours.

¡Mikey's Here!

If it's not one thing, it's another

Last week, it was typhoid. Yesterday, our internet was down. I tell you, what a country!

On top of it, the only person ever to be early, is the guy who picks up the laundry. They says to me, they says, "As long as you drop it off by 3pm, no problem". Well, I show up at 2:58pm (yes, cutting it close, but nothing's ever on time!) and they guy came and left 15 minutes early!

Man.

Anyway, about the typhoid. So, pretty much since I got here, I was having bouts of sickness to varying degrees. A little vomiting here, some runs there, nausea, some more runs over there, and so on. I figured that there were a few possibilities (none including a disease famously contracted by Abigail Adams and Charles Darwin), like getting accustomed to the food, the altitude, a flu of sorts, or just whatever. At one point, as avid readers will know, I went to see a doctor at the Santa Elena Hospital who prescribed anti-biotics. They seemed to help for a week or so

Finally, after one memorable all-nighter of vomiting and not being able to keep down even small amounts of water, we (go M!) decided that I should go back to the doctor and see what the heck was going on. It just didn't make sense that I was so sick, so often. I am rarely ill back home, so what's the deal?

At the doctor's office - with the help of Arturo from the language school - we discussed various things, and finally he recommended a blood test. I agreed, and minutes later, a large man busted in the office all out of breath with a needle in one hand, a vial or two in the other, and nary a glove in sight.

Hm.

Ok, I thought, as long as I see him open the needle package, at least there's that. I don't see any open sores on his poking hand, so I should be ok.

Turns out, they aren't much for gloves in the hospital here - a fact made more ironic by the doctor telling me that the biggest reason they have problems with typhoid and other similar illnesses is because people aren't careful with washing hands, etc.

Great.

I did actually see some gloves in use as I walked by a doctor's off this week, but unfortunately, they were being used by the person cleaning the windows. Ah well.

So, they take my blood, and about 20 minutes later, the guy gives me a sheet with a whole list of different diseases with X's next to them, and one big check mark next to Typhoid. There's some numbers too, and the doctor looks at them, looks up and me, and then checks the numbers again. These are big numbers, and I have lots and lots of typhoid.

He suggests that I immediately start with a shot of antibiotics in my butt. Well, I wasn't so sure. Ok, he says, then you should come stay in the hospital overnight and get antibiotics by IV. Eh, I thought, I wanted to get another opinion. I told him that I needed to talk to my parents (which isn't crazy - they're both nurses) and that I'd either come back that day or the next.

After consulting with my parents, my doctor back home, and the internet, we decided that I'd try cipro for a few days first. It felt good to have a plan. Then we heard from the tropical disease specialist that M went to before coming, and he said that I should listen to the local doctor and immediately check in to the hospital. Oy.

So back to the hospital we go and we tell them that I'd like a room for the night.

It wasn't the cleanest hospital room I've ever been in, but it was big, private, had cable tv, wireless internet and M could stay over too, in a big fluffy chair straight out of the first class section on an airplane. Truth is, it was bigger than our studio apartment.

I changed into my backless gown (muy elegante) and jumped into bed. Within minutes, the nurse (oops! student nurse!) was trying to get an IV needle in my arm. After succeeding in only creating a bubble of saline solution under my skin, an actual nurse was called in. She managed to hit the vein this time, and I was floating away on a cloud of liquid antibiotics.

More later!!

well!

What a week and a half it's been. Here's some of the things you'll be hearing about over the next couple days -

my bout with typhoid! and the subsequent hospital stay.

an annoying birthday party in the country.

a cool meeting with migrant workers to discuss their rights.

our so-far futile apartment search.

and much much more, so stay tuned...

Some Pig!

Mucho mejor, gracias.

I'm feeling a heck of a lot better...it was a bit swinish there for a couple days, what with the shaking, the sweating, the chills, the weakness, the loss of appetite, general malaise, etc.

The good doctor at the Santa Elena Hospital listened to my stomach and declared that it was hosting the latest revolucion en Mexico and prescribed some antibiotics. I'm supplementing with some Malox stomach-soothing chewables and starting to feel normal again. He also said I was really dehydrated due to various discharges and said I should drink a couple liters of Pedialyte every day for a while.

I don't know if you've ever tried Pedialyte, but it's really disgusting. It's basically Gatorade with less sugar and lots more gross. After the first bottle, I switched to Gatorade (limonada flavour) and haven't looked back.

Class has been good this week, except for the fact that M is no longer going full-time, but rather just 2 hours a day, in private lessons. We got a couple new people, a cool guy who happens to live in NYC, and a girl from the LA area. My skills are definitely improving and I can't wait to read Shakespeare in the original Spanish.

post called on account of illness

I'm suffering from some kind of sickness for the last 24 hours or so - achy body, slight fever, alternating cold and hot, etc. so forgive the lack of posting.

Come back soon...

You must eat tacos!!

M interviewed some potential clients this morning for a possible action, and afterwards was forced into an epic taco-eating session.

She acquiesced in order to avoid an international incident. A true hero of the movement.

Continuar...

That little waterfall below was the final straw (so far!) with this house we're staying in...I love the people a lot, but the house has been a bit difficult to deal with. Ant infestations, flooding - that was just the video I was able to make. I've spent a lot of time mopping and using a bailing bucket to empty out water from the roof. For some reason, the roofs are built like bathtubs, but not as waterproof. The plumber has stopped by a couple times, but is coming to actually fix the problems mañana.

Mañana, popularly translated as tomorrow, is actually a mythical day that will happen sometime in the near future. Like those who pray for the coming of the Messiah, many Mexicans (and some long-staying US'ers) pray for the arrival of mañana, when all leaks will be fixed, all cleaning-ladies will come, all water will be delivered, and many other wrongs will be righted. Amen.

Anyway, we're going to be moving out of here in the next week, hopefully. We're likely to move into an apartment that owned by one of the hostels here in town - the Villa Colonial. The places are small, but rent is pretty low, 3500 Mexican Euros, as our Dutch friend Auk calls them. That comes to around $265 US, including all utilities, so not bad at all. We'll spice it up a bit with our own decorations and it'll be just fine. It may happen that we'll have to hop around a bit in different apartments till one opens that we like, but as I said above, mañana.

I do just want to finish up about our trip to Real de Catorce that I was talking about earlier. The second day, we decided to take a horseback trip up to the top of one of the mountains overlooking the town. I hadn't been on a horse for more than 5 minutes since I was a kid (if that) and was a bit apprehensive starting out. However, within a short time, I was sold on the whole thing. It was really cool and I can't wait to do it more. My backside wasn't as pleased as the rest of me, but I'm sure it'll come around. We rode up a windy trail for about 45 minutes, until we reached a bunch of ruins that were from when the silver mines were working. We parked the horses (not the proper term, I'm sure, but applicable) and walked around for a bit with our guide. He spoke no english, and our spanish isn't quite ready for prime-time, so we only understood a few words in every sentence. It's likely that there was a steam-engine house that drove the something-or-other and there's a covered mine shaft that goes on for either 300 meters or is a shopping mall. Or something.

He took us into the entrance of a mine for about 100 feet or so, and it was really really dark. I can't imagine having to go down in those mines and working. As the poet wrote, "it's dark as a dungeon, damp as the dew, where the dangers are double and the pleasures are few. Where the rain never falls, and the sun never shines, it's dark as a dungeon, way down in the mine." The only pleasure I had was getting out.

We rode back down the mountain to spectacular views of the town, the surrounding mountains, and the fields way off in the distance. The town is at about 10,000 feet and we rode up about another 2500 or so, so we were definitely up there.

After we returned the horses, it was more walking around. We found the old bullfighting ring, which for some reason I thought would be more exciting. Turns out, it was just a circular wall made of stones. In a circle. I wish I could say more about it, but that was about it. A couple more hours walking around, and we got back on the road to Zacatecas.

A funny thing we saw on the way out was this awesome marriage of old and new (click for biggerversion):

I think it speaks volumes.

Look for more pics in the link on the top right.

When it rains, it pours

In the bathroom of the house we're staying in, a couple hours ago.

Real de Catorce

It's been a few days, but I'm working on it. We had a great weekend in Real de Catorce, an amazing little town in the middle of some mountains in the great state of San Luis de Potosi.

It's an old mining town, that at one point had a population of about 40,000, which is now down closer to around 2000. It was a booming place at one point, then went all ghost-town. In the past number of years, it's been becoming more of a tourist destination and it's definitely showing.

The Huichol indians know it as the place where the sun was born, which is pretty cool. They do a sort of pilgrimage there every year, walking for 30 days through the desert to get there. Then, they eat peyote as a sacrament and bond with the spirits. There's a specific mountain in the area that they go to, but we didn't make it there.

We rented a car with our Dutch couple friends and drove there - about 4.5 hours or so. It was wild driving through the Mexican countryside (which it all is outside the city). There's just scrub brush for as far as you can see, literally. Random cacti popping up all over the place, and small tornados of dust shooting up in the air and disappearing as fast as they are pointed out. It got exciting for a minute, when, rather than risk waiting at least an hour at a railroad crossing for a slow-moving mile-long train that was fast approaching, we made a split-second decision to gun the engine and just barely made it across the tracks, much to the consternation of the whistle-blowing engineer. That was some adrenaline rush, I have to say.

We stopped for lunch at a roadside loncheria which was quite interesting. Smack dab in the middle of nowhere, it was also a one-stop shopping center. They had one of pretty anything you could want, from extra car parts (tail-lights, fan belts, tires) to kids toys, toiletries, jeans, cowboy boots, and pretty much anything you could want. They even had cassette tapes, which I haven't seen for sale anywhere in years.

The last 25 miles or so are on a cobblestone sort of road on which you can't drive any faster than about 20 mph. It makes for slow going through a pretty hot, dry desert. The road goes up into the mountains, along a windy road until you reach the tunnel. The tunnel is 2.5 km and one-way only, so you wait in the line of cars until the guy gives you the go-ahead. In the meantime, you fend off the kids crowding around the car trying to sell you all kinds of fruits, foods and other stuff.

The tunnel is cool - there are small, boarded-up offshoot tunnels along the sides, a couple small chapel rooms you can see, and it all seems to be help up by wooden beams looking like they should have been replaced long ago.

Finally, you burst out into bright daylight and are directed to park in the lot, as the town really can't handle automobile traffic. This is a place that was designed for donkey travel, and not much more. We were told that since we had a hotel reservation, we could drive up and drop off our stuff. After a harrowing drive up streets, around corners, and down alleyways that our rental go-cart could just barely handle, we pulled up in front of the Hotel Real de Alamos. Luckily, there was a parking spot across the street that we fit in, and just left it there.

The hotel was perfect - a bed, a plastic table and chair, a toilet. No toilet paper, but I had anticipated that and brought my own. After putting our stuff down, we headed out to walk around and see what was up. A quick cerveza in the local cantina - noting the sign that Brad Pitt was there while filming the movie The Mexican - was great for parched throats.

Have I mentioned the drink that I've fallen for? It's called a chelada - and I really like it. It involves a small splash of lime or lemon juice at the bottom of a class filled with ice and with salt on the rim. Your choice of beer (Indio, Victoria, Bohemia, Sol, Corona) poured and mixed in. Refreshing and delicious!

We headed over to the museum that's housed in the former mint, from when the town was booming. There was some cool art, and it was a worthy stop. After that, it was just walking around the little streets and alleys.

I have to say that the "artisianal" souvenirs and other crafts, goods, etc were somewhat disappointing. It really seems like every single shop I've been in, whether in Zacatecas or elsewhere has the same stuff. I do hope to get somewhere I can check out some unique things.

If that's not possible, I'd like to have a look at the catalogue that its like every souvenir shop in the world orders from. It must be about a million pages long and indexed by country. I'd order a little Mountie from the Canada section, a poncho and sombrero from the Mexico section, a miniature Tower Bridge from England's offerings, and maybe a plastic eagle from the US pages. It was clear to me that the touristy line was long-ago crossed in Real de Catorce when I saw that every little store was selling the Rasta-coloured hats with fake dreadlocks. And that people were walking around wearing them.

More about Real de Catorce later, including the most amazing views ever, a disappointing bullfighting ring, horseriding to the top of a mountain, and going deep (or not so deep) inside a mine...

Entonces...

So, what's been going on…

One of the women who works in the office, L., had a birthday party for her little girl the other night. She is this amazing woman who has been involved with migrant workers rights for, literally, her whole life. And I do mean literally. She went to the US as a very young child with her family and worked in fields in various places around the country. A child, you might ask? But that can't be! We don't have children working in the fields!

Well - surprise, surprise. That tomato you sliced for that lovely salad you made last night could very well have been picked by a very small hand, joined to a very small arm, that is hopefully going to stay joined to a very young body. Of course, if it doesn't, and winds up separated in a terrible accident, good luck to that young person getting any kind of compensation – and enter CDM…But I digress.

L. went on to become an organizer for farm workers, and eventually rose to become a vice-president of one of the large farm workers unions. She moved back to Mexico less than a year ago – a significant move, considering the numbers of Mexican trying to get to the US – and has been a major organizing force for CDM. A true hero to many who volunteer here, and a truly selfless inspiration to me.

The party was at her house in Guadalupe, the next town over from Zacatecas, just out past the Wal-Mart, Sam's Club, McDonalds, Burger King, Subway, Starbucks (not the one here in the Centro), and all the other strip mall joints. Not that I'm complaining…we hit up Sam's Club (my first time ever) on Sunday, and were able to shop for really cheap. It's going to make a big difference for our eating habits to be able to shop for so little. Guess it's like that for most of America. Are we wrong to patronize such a place? I don't know…but I do know that we can afford to shop there, and that helps.

Guadalupe is more of what I was picturing as far as a town here goes: 1-2 story buildings, not such clean streets, and lots of taco joints. I don't mean to be negative, really, just observing. Her street is a dead-end street (no metaphor intended), which allows the kids to play soccer without getting hit by cars. That's a good thing. The party was awesome, as far as I was concerned. The most delicious, yet simple, tostadas I have ever eaten in my life, which I've tried to recreate a few times with no success. A highlight for me, though we didn't get to see it put to use, was the huge piñata. I remember as a kid, my mom would make them once in a while (paper mache over a balloon, pop balloon when dry, fill with candy, smash as soon as possible), but this was (gulp) cooler. It was a horse of a size that a small child could ride on – and they did. Turns out that one of the kids was somewhat traumatized by the idea of smashing it, so the caballo lived to be whacked another day.

Spanish school has been good, and we're definitely learning lots. Of course, learning is one thing, but actually speaking is another. I asked Don Arturo for his help in finding me someone to speak Spanish with on a regular basis. He's also going to help me find some stuff to do with my free time. He suggested some sort of barter so that I can keep coming around there for lessons after my 6 weeks are up. Awesome.

I will admit, however, that I had my first confident conversation in Spanish yesterday. We are looking for an apartment to live in, and I stopped by one of the hotels where you can ask about apartments for rent. He sent me to speak to a woman he knew of, and I was off. She was a very nice lady and I was able to ask all the relevant questions. I even managed to understand some of the answers. The place was up about a million or so steps, which wasn't great. It was also a basement apartment, so I don't think we'll take it. We saw another today, but I'm hoping that over the next couple weeks, we can find something a bit nicer. Rent is pretty cheap here, with a small, furnished place going for under $400 US a month, with $400 being the high-end. By the way, they use the dollar ($) sign here, which can be somewhat confusing.

FYI – there's some new pics up…hit the link on the top right and scroll to the bottom of the album.

boy oh boy

do i have a lot (or at least a little) to learn.

long story short, we moved from our hotel to a friends place who's away for 3 weeks.

I just took my first shower, and spent the whole time cursing the fact that there was no hot water.

and then I thought to ask myself...wait - what's hot in spanish?

Oh. The 'C' is for Caliente, not Cold.

And there was the hot water...

next

Sorry for the delay of a few days…turns out the exchange rate on time isn't so great. Our American hours translate into days here.

What a week so far. We started Spanish school on Tuesday at the Institution de Fénix, founded by the Profesor Arturo Dorado, and staffed largely by his entire family. It’s been some time since I had to wake up at a specific time each day and get to a classroom, so it’s taking some getting used to, for sure. Oh, and we have homework! The classes are pretty good, and I'm definitely learning lots. At the very least, I know more than I did last week.

There are only four of us in the class, and only six altogether in the school right now. They have had a really difficult time this summer because of the media blow-ups about the swine flu (which Mexico was recognized internationally for dealing with in such an efficient fashion) and the "narco-terrorism". Many US schools cancelled their summer programs, so where there usually would be 80-100 students, there are only us 6. Kind of a tragedy for the family, as it is their sole source of income and rent on the building is high. I can imagine that this is a microcosm of many industries here in Mexico that have been greatly affected by the American media's need to exaggerate problems in general.
I wonder if anyone in the MSM (mainstream media) ever takes into account such things. I imagine they don't, as it's great for ratings.
Jerks.

Anyway, so we start the day with 3 hours of studying grammar, vocabulary, etc (telling time, comparisons, etc). It's crazy how many different categories there are in Spanish, some that don't exist at all in English, as far as I know, like Redundancias. Not to mention that I couldn't tell you what most of these things are in English, much less try to get them in Spanish. Double object pronouns? Indirect object pronouns? Prepositional object pronouns? Yes, I learned them at some point, but that was a looooong time ago…and I haven't done a lot of thinking about English sentence structure since.

Our teacher for the first part of the day is the youngest Dorado daughter, Lorena. She's trained as a psicológia, but is a fine teacher as well. She's also the shortest member of the family, which I know because we spent hours comparing the various family members to each other. We also know their entire family tree – their cuñados, yuernas, suegras,abuelas and so on.

We spend the next two hours with the Prof. Dorado studying pronunciation, random questions, and cultural stuff. He's a fascinating man, and I am really hoping that I'll be able to continue learning from him beyond the 6 weeks I have planned. He is not just a fly-by-night Spanish teacher, but a real student (and teacher) of linguistics. His insights into language, culture and how they fit together are pretty cool. Some things I've learned, though very basic if you know Spanish, are really interesting. Such as, the letters "n" and "ñ" are just that – separate letters. The letters (and sounds) "r" and "rr" are also separate! Yes, basic, I'm sure, but still far out. I do want to say that the letters are not indicative of the concepts he has taught us – just what I can remember right now…the concepts we've discussed with him are definitely more interesting than just letters.

The other two students in our class are a couple from Holland that are on a motorcycle tour of the Americas. They started in New York, rode up to Canada and back down through the US into Mexico. After a couple weeks here, they're heading further south through Mexico into Guatemala, Colombia, Peru, Ecuador, Bolivia, Chile, Argentina – as far south as the roads go – and then back up the other side, as time permits. They did the same thing through Africa some years ago, and have been living in Moscow for the past 3 years. Their blog is here - http://www.aukemarieke.blogspot.com/
Pretty awesome.

The school also organizes trips, movies, and other activities to get people more involved in the culture, which is great. We'll be going to some museums, archeological sites, "coffee socials", and other events which should be fun.

When we were talking to Professor Dorado about how much the school would cost – we had been told that people working at CDM got a discounted rate – there was a moment, for me at least, where I felt like we were here really doing good work, and not just some stuff that anyone could do and wasn't such a big deal. He was very clear that he gives the discount specifically because the CDM is a great organization that does very important work for his people. Call me sentimental, or even ask why I need to hear some encouraging words to feel good, but it gave me chills up my spine. I hope that doesn't sound negative in any way...

Another interesting thing about Prof. Dorado- We were talking about us being Jewish (and of course we were asked if we knew his Jewish friend in New York) and he mentioned that his last name is a special one. There are very few Dorados in Mexico, and mostly in one area. It turns out that the name is a Marrano one! Marranos were the Jews who were persecuted in Spain and had to hide their Jewishness from the Catholic Church out of fear of being killed. They took their "hidden" heritage with them when they went to the colonies, but over the years, mostly became actual Catholics. It's pretty cool that he is still aware of that part of his history (which his father told him about) although he definitely doesn't identify as Jewish in any way.

Some other stuff that happened this week:
We moved rooms in the hotel, which is great, because we now have a kitchen. I made my first meal in Mexico, which wasn't fancy, but I will say it was better than most of the restaurant food we've eaten. I'm glad I decided to bring my camping pots and leatherman tool, as they were indispensable. The crazy thing is that everything needs to be washed with bottled water – pots, dishes, vegetables and fruits. For the fruits and veggies (except those with peels), people actually wash them with soap to get the bacteria off, and then rinse with tap water, dry them and rinse again with bottled water. It's an annoying process, to be sure, but my stomach is thankful.
(Update: just wanted to say, it's not the bacteria the people worry about when it comes to the water, at least here in Zacatecas. It's the heavy waters in the aquifer, which has been ruined, due to the centuries of mining in the area. And check it! The biggest Corona factory is right here and uses the water! Huzzah!)

We learned what the terribly annoying and loud noise is every morning that goes on around 8am or so. When you buy gas for heating water and cooking, it doesn't come through pipelines or whatever. There are trucks that drive around with tanks on the back. They play loud music and scream "Gaz! Gaz!" Then, you have to run out and catch the truck. The guy stops and comes inside and takes your empty tank. Then hebrings a full one inside and hooks it up. A tank is good for a couple months, I think.

Moving right along.

Waking up Saturday morning, I had a feeling something was, well, not right. That feeling was confirmed by the many trips to the bathroom. That pretty much set the tone for the day. I was having trouble imagining anything good to eat, much less anything local. It was starting to feel like a flu of some kind, but hopefully not a porcine one. The shakes, feeling cold and then hot, maybe even a little feverish. There was an intense weakness that was only exacerbated by not having anything to eat.

I had asked around for a local supermarket, and struck out to find it. It turned out the store was only a couple blocks away. When I went inside, I was much happier than I ever thought was possible to be about a food store. There were so many products that I recognized that I literally stumbled around, knocking things off shelves, loading my arms up with more bread, peanut butter and jelly than could ever be healthy.

Frosted Flakes, Smuckers, Wonder Bread, and Skippy – they saved my life that day, and would continue to do so for the next couple days. The store only sells dry goods, however, and I had to find a cremerie for milk.

After I scarfed down a couple plastic cups of cereal and some sandwiches, I finally felt slightly human. There wasn't much I could do except lay around and feel crappy. Maybe I wasn't totally human, but some sub-species of human that just wants a good slice of freaking pizza. Or a felafel. That's a strange craving I've been having…

So that was most of my day. Miriam was out and about taking care of business, but gave me a call that evening to see if I wanted to come to dinner. Again, I couldn't imagine eating anything but bread, but I just had to get out of the hotel room.

Short aside – we have been using our iPhones down here, thanks to some kind coders who have developed a way to unlock them for use with phone companies other than AT&T. We were able to buy pre-paid SIM cards (or CHIPS as they call them here) and pop them right in the phone. Works for data, email, everything. Of course using them for data sucks up the pesos, but that's the price of technology.

I met up with Miriam, Rachel, Jon, and few other folk from CDM (we spend a lot of time hanging out together…) at the Argentinean restaurant. Grilled veggies, empanadas, fried spinach balls (?), and some french fries were the order of the night. I was still pretty queasy, though thinking back about what I ate, I definitely should have been.

(damn, there's a lot of black-flies here – go away!)

I still had the chills on a pretty mellow evening, but hot tea helped with that. Like I said earlier, dinner is a long drawn-out affair, and this was no exception. Not in a bad way, of course, but I'm definitely used to stuff happening a lot quicker.

We had planned to hit up a club called La Mina, which is this pretty cool looking nightclub in an old mine under the city. For real. You take a train that goes for around 2000 feet (or something like that) underground, and there's a real club down there. Well, I wasn't up for it, so Miriam ran off with the interns for a night of partying.

As it happens, the line to get on the train was a bit long, so they didn't bother with it. Zacatecas is turning out to be quite a party town (7 universities!) and they had plenty of other choices.

I opted for a low-key evening with Tory (lawyer), Dave (husband), and Karl (a temp bookkeeper here for a few weeks), stopping for more tea at Il San Patrizio. Of course that turned in a few hours of hanging out there and back at their house.

Oh man, their house! It's amazing. This huge, beautiful place with a massive terrace, many bedrooms, and just awesome. All for around $400 a month. Back in NY, this place would be closer to $8000 a month, at least. For real.

Got home, crashed out and barely woke up when Miriam came in sometime after midnight.