Sunrises and party buses

I think we have fully settled into our routine at this point. On Monday we missed our first bus, which was kind of exciting (if you like that sort of thing). We ended up taking a taxi out to the villages, which was a bit expensive, but cheaper than staying another night in the hotel. It was also a lot better for my spinal column, and gave us the chance to meet another taxi driver. The taxi drivers here have been some of my favorite people. After spending the summer in Manhattan where the drivers rarely said more than two sentences to me, I especially appreciate the chatty, philosophical taxistas that I’ve gotten around here.

On Tuesday, Matt and I hiked up to the top of a hill that the rancheros call “el Picacho.” I don’t know why it’s called that, and neither do they, but it’s the tallest hill around, and we got there in time to see the sunrise. (Note: The Matt of this semester is not to be confused with the Matt who was my facilitator last year. A couple people have asked me about that, so let it be known that they are different people). The sunrise was really beautiful, and well worth the hike up.

On Friday I had a close call with some nasty dogs. It seems like the further toward the outskirts you get in the villages, the more aggressive the dogs are. Maybe they just don’t get as used to people walking by as they other dogs, or maybe their owners feel more vulnerable, and train them to be more protective. Whatever the reason, I knew that the dogs up this hill could be feisty, but I went up there anyway to do some interviews. Since I’m interviewing every family in the village, it had to be done eventually. I did a couple of interviews, and then found myself at the very last house. The door was open, but no one was in sight. At this point, I made the serious tactical error of calling out a “Buenos días” to get someone’s attention. Next thing I knew, four crazed dogs were bounding toward me, backing me into a thorn bush. I hesitate to speculate about what might have happened next had their owner, Jaime, not appeared at the fence at that moment to call them off. He recommended that I carry a stick up there to hit the dogs with, and gave me one to use. He then proceeded to discuss the disparity in quality of life between Mexico and the United States, and the different social classes within them. Then he abruptly wished me well and went back to work; I didn’t even get a chance to interview him, which means I have to go back to his house (and his dogs). Next time I’ll walk softly and carry a big stick. And bring Matt. (At this point I have to ask my parents and other assorted relatives not to stress out over this…Just try to enjoy the story and the fact that nothing bad actually happened to me.)

This Saturday we took the early morning bus back, which leaves around 6:40 from Santa Rosa. I don’t know how many of you have heard of the MTV reality show “Pimp My Ride,” but I think this bus may one time have participated in said show. I’ve never seen an episode, personally, but I imagine that it involves taking cars and adding purely ornamental and/or convenience features to make them more…pimp (Note to parents once again: Pimp in this context is not referring to the manager of female prostitutes, but rather to a certain type of masculine attractiveness). Anyway, the bus is decked out in colorful lights, the interior mostly lit by the black lights in the front. The area around the driver’s feet lights up when he brakes, and music blasts through the fairly impressive sound system.

The sunset that Matt and I enjoyed Tuesday morning...

The sun rising behind some nopales...I really like this one.

Some women carrying things on their heads. For anyone who has never tried this, you really should so you can appreciate the difficulty of the feat.

Matt and me eating some tasty tacos this weekend. Mmm...I miss this food when I´m back in the States.

Viva Mexico

Dear the blog:

Last weekend we got to participate in some serious Mexican culture. It was Independence Day on Sunday, the 16th, but the main celebrations took place on Saturday. We went down to the centro with some people from church (young single adults), where we wandered around buying snacks. We ended up in a plaza near the municipal president’s office. The crowd and the excitement (and foam squirting throughout) continued to build until about 11:00pm when the municipal president came out and led the grito (shout). This involved the president yelling “¡Viva (something patriotic, like Hidalgo or Mexico)!” and everyone in the crowd responding “¡Viva!” That was pretty much the culmination of the celebration.

During the week, I kept up teaching our students (with Matt), and also worked some more on my research. I also got to keep helping at the kinder (which is like preschool) in el Encino. I don’t know if I mentioned that before, but I’m going there Tuesday and Thursday mornings to help out/enjoy the kids. I’ve observed (once again) that children in the villages get a lot freer reign with what they can play with, i.e. knives, old tires, metal dustpans, etc. I’m really quite amazed that so many of them make it to adulthood, not to mention having all their appendages intact.

On Friday night, Matt and I stayed in Comederito with Brandon and Angela. We had a movie night at Angela’s house, because her family owns a TV and a DVD player. Los increíbles was pretty good. It’s better in the original English, but not bad in Spanish.

As for our weekend in Irapuato, it’s basically business as usual: laundry, internet, blessed shower, perhaps even more blessed toilet. I guess I don’t mind bucket showers and bush toilets, but it does make me appreciate the conveniences of piped water all the more when I get them.

Matt, Angela, and me drinking various mexi-drinks (mine is traditional horchata). This was taken the night we went downtown for Independence Day.

This is me with Brandon, faces painted, and foam-covered. Fortunately the foam melted off pretty quick, or we would have been totally coated by the end of the night.

This is Matt looking at the view from a nice rock we found near our village. It´s much better in person.

Mexi-dance parties

Dear blog fans,

I can only imagine how many of you wait with bated breath every week to read my next post… And here’s another one. Last week I didn’t think far enough ahead to really type up a proper blog post, but pictures are more fun anyway.

Over the last couple of weeks we’ve settled into our rancho routine. Early last week I finalized the housing arrangements. The final set-up puts me and Matt staying with Martin and Martina (husband and wife…I’m on the look-out for an Emilio) in Santa Rosa. Angela and Brandon are staying in two different homes in Comederito, which is about a mile and a half away from Santa Rosa.

This week we all started teaching our respective students. Matt and I are teaching together; most of our students are in Santa Rosa, with one or two in nearby la Estancia. Although several students ended up being busy (not too surprising), the classes we did teach were really successful. I think we’re teaching three different women who run stores. At least two of them are taking classes to help them out in the store, and they’re pretty quick with their schoolwork. Another student, Olga, wants to get her secundaria certificate so she can go to nursing school part-time. She doesn’t even need us to teach her, really; we just check her homework.

Speaking of Olga, it was her birthday on the 13th. Matt and I were giving her and her friend Ignacia class on the 12th, when she suddenly remembered that her birthday was the next day. They decided that they would have us over for enchiladas and a little dancing to celebrate. So the next night after we’d finished teaching, we showed up at Nacha’s house (Ignacia goes by Nacha). They brought out some beautiful enchiladas which we all enjoyed, along with some wandering children. After dinner, they set up a stereo and put on some classic rancho music. It was pretty much Matt and me, with our two adult students (whose husbands are sort of out of the picture), and a little horde of children dancing on Nacha’s patio. The kids were really hilarious; they would imitate any crazy dance move we came up with, and a couple of the little boys even asked me to dance. In the style of one of my favorite speakers, food was imparted, dancing was enjoyed, and good times were shared by all (Mom and Dad, I’m counting on you to appreciate that allusion).

This is my room. The room takes up the whole building, and the families have their rooms in another couple of buildings across a patio and down some steps.

These are the enchiladas that Olga and Nacha made for us. Mmmmmm...

This is Santa Rosa, the village where I´m living. Actually, this is only about a third of it, maybe. It´s all spread out on these hills, so there are housing behind me (the photographer), and more in the periphery that you can´t see.

I unfortunately didn´t get any pictures of myself this week, but I´ll take some soon.

This week´s post: Pictures :)

We went to the temple in Guadalajara yesterday, which was great. We left on a bus from the church at 2am, and got back around 7:30pm. Oh, in the picture: Brandon, Angela, Matt, me.

Us looking our best in the ranchos. I have no idea why Brandon has that facial expression. Please note that this picture was taken using my camera´s timer...Had I asked a villager to do it, you would probably be looking at the tops of our heads and a lot of sky.

I hate trying to format this blog when the whole webpage is in Spanish...sigh. Ignore the alignment, if you would. I think the sky here is really pretty (hence the sunset and the picture below). The other picture shows you how green it is! It´s so pretty right now because of all the rain.

Safe Arrival

Here it is, the first post from Mexico. I arrived Wednesday night, and here are a few of the things that have happened to me since then:

1. The bus ride from Guadalajara to Irapuato. My entertainment during this ride consisted of a stirring rendition of “Be Still My Soul” (in English), an instrumental remake of “My Heart Will Go On” (led by a woody flute which at times did a fair imitation of a dog whistle), the classic American film “She’s the Man,” and a few more songs plus half of another movie which I didn’t pay much attention to.

2. The first phone call to INEA. I called, was assured that Carmelita (the women who works with our program) would call me back. Surprisingly that did not happen, but I did reach her later in the day.

3. My first trip out to the ranchos for the semester. It was slightly more exciting than I had hoped/wanted, as I had to do some serious rearrangements of our housing situation. It stayed the night with Silvia, one of my hostesses of last summer, and enjoyed the tranquility of the villages. I also got bitten by an ant for the first time. It was red. I don’t know what that means, but it definitely hurt. The sneaky thing crawled up my pant leg to the middle of my thigh before digging in. The whole encounter didn’t end well for him—I think I managed to squish him in my frantic slapping and grabbing. The nearby villagers kindly refrained from laughing and offered their sympathy over the nastiness of ant bites.

4. One of the students (Angela) became sick, and so did not take her Saturday flights. The main complication was that she was supposed to rendezvous with another student (Matt) in the Mexico City airport. My mother and I did our best to get Matt a message, but to no avail. However, he made it successfully to Irapuato on his own (as did the third student, Brandon), and now the three of us get to take a little day trip back to Mexico City to get Angela on Monday (this means two more bus rides full of more entertaining entertainment).

5. Ryan broke up with me. I suspect that most if not all of the people reading this blog knew that we were dating, and would like to know that we are not in a relationship anymore. However, I don’t think the blog is my medium of choice for relating any more details. There are no hard feelings. On the contrary, I think anyone who has the chance to get to know Ryan should take it, and would only be the better for it.

6. A mysterious man who speaks English but very little Spanish tried to call me at Hotel K’sa (pronounced “casa”). I actually called three men by that description (Ryan, Angela’s dad, and my boss, Dave), all of who had something to talk to me about, but none of whom had tried to call me. If you happen to be said individual, please present yourself so the mystery can end.