Dixie Chicks invade!

After jingling all the way, the rest of the school day was a wash.  That's how we roll here in Mexico!  We finished the singing part (all 7 groups) by 10 I'd say and that's when the food started.  This was another one of those pot-luck fundraisers.  Teachers drew from a pot a sheet of paper that would tell what their class was required to provide for the potluck.  One class had to bring tamales, so the teacher assigned 2 tamales per student.  Others had bean sandwiches or soft drinks, so the teacher just took care of that.  Still others had something special like ceviche (a soupy shrimp dish) or esquite (creamed corm with lots of other additions), so they would ask one family to take care of it.  Whoever purchased supplies for the food was reimbursed, leaving the leftover dough for the school.

I miraculously withheld from eating this time (the food seemed to lack the luster it had the first go-round), but when Sandra offered up free paletas (popsicles), I took her up on it.

By 10:30, the crowd was winding down.

The 6th graders, however, were not losing any steam.  Fresh from their electric slide lesson the day before, they wanted to showcase it.  The girls were begging me to play the CD over the loudspeaker.  They wanted it to be a part of the singing show, but would settle for just doing it for fun.  The boys were pleading with their eyes not to dance.  I told them that no one had to dance but that they were more than welcome to play the song and if they wanted me to dance with them I would.  They took me up on it (and of course the boys quickly joined in).

I could see some of the younger students watching with hope of learning a dance.  I think I'll teach the electric slide to all my classes (well, maybe not first grade), and teach 6th grade other line dances as well (they need something special since they're the oldest, right?).

Jingle all the way!

Look at all their precious faces watching me intently!

(It'll never happen again!)

Our singarama ending.

Arcelia and Teacher with our little Santa Angels.

Tuesday was the big day.  The celebration was supposed to start at 8:30, but I knew everyone would be scurrying to decorate and put on the final touches from 8:00 on, so I aimed to be there on time.  I hit my mark.

Teachers and students (on top of tables and ladders) were hanging piñatas and decorating the three Christmas trees that were the backdrop.

My little santa hatted friends were so nervous.  I was nervous, too but tried not to show it!

We got started around 8:30 and went in order through the grades.  I was smart enough this time to pass off my video-capable camera to Ramón (PE) and I kept my big camera for myself until it was show time.  Then I gave it to the special ed. substitute.  The shows were cute.  The kids were all dressed to the nines (according to what they were supposed to wear by class) and most of the girls had some seriously curly hair and adolescent-style makeup!  

My nerves were crazy when it was out turn.  I don't know why.  I had no control over what was about to happen, and should something go awry, no one was going to care!  I had forgotten that at elementary school productions, the moms are the audience, and even in a major failure, the audience is still very proud!

All went well.  I tried to upload videos, but it ain't happenin'.  Maybe another day.

Just another Manic Monday, whoa whoa...

Oh, how I loved that song as a kid.  I remember singing it into my hairbrush microphone (in the old bedroom, of course, where all concerts took place).

Mondays, my schedule typically consists of both firsts, then recreo, followed by 3rd and 6th.  Since Tuesday was our big Jingle Bells day, though, I knew I would be with 5th grade most of the morning.  I got to school at the strike of 8:50 (seems to be my style lately), and I saw Evely (a 5th grader) frantically running towards me.  The doors have been locked.  This happened last week, too.  Wednesday was the English Department robbery, which led to more care being taken on-site at schools.  That's great, except that it usually costs me about 10 minutes trying to find someone who will answer their phone and then find the keys.

Monday I was lucky because Evely had been standing guard.  I asked her if she had the keys and she came running down the steps.  

"No, Teacher, I don't have the keys, but we just practiced Jingle Bells with Teacher Arcelia and it was awful and we sounded terrible and we can't remember how to pronounce some words-the part about the song; what kind of song is it- and Teacher Arcelia couldn't help us and we need you!"

Finally she took a breath and I asked her to go get the key so practicing could become a reality.

We got that taken care of and I entered fifth grade (without even signing in) to huge applause.  That's enough to make you want to come to work everyday!

We practiced pronunciation first (I made them read the song backwards and forwards without singing), then we sang it, and then we tested out my different versions of Jingle Bells.  One was a kids choir and it was fast which basically just meant that the kids loved it.  The important thing about that version was that it had the chorus, followed by one verse, ending with two choruses.  That was basically how we'd practiced it.  Another one was a jazzy version, which wouldn't do (for many reasons) mostly because it had the second verse and we did not have time for that!  The third version was Kenny Chesney.  It was Caribbean meets country, as one would expect.  I introduced the song by telling them how famous Kenny Chesney was, and then striking a tree pose while name-dropping that I had done yoga with him.  Some of my girl fans laughed and grinned; most of the boys rolled their eyes.  I think it was lost on most of them.

That version had way too many verses, including at least one that Kenny made up.  That one was out, too.

I knew the kids were in love with the Children's Chorus, but I was afraid it was too fast.  My last hope was the karaoke.  I pushed play and they all sang as they should... until it played three verses.  There was no way we could do that and I was not in the mood to channel creativity or ability to splice it.

Fast version it is.  The kids hooted and hollered and were ecstatic and couldn't wait to go outside to practice.  The cancha (that multi-purpose area/court where PE takes place- and every other activity at school) was empty, so it was a great time to go outside.  We had already practiced singing and pronunciation, and had brainstormed some dance ideas for an hour.  It was 10:00 and time to see what it looked like in real life.

Out we went and I made the front row of girls spread out and the back row of boys (you'll notice later that they were less than enthusiastic).  Ramón (PE) was there that day, but not teaching (because we were all practicing) and he was relatively helpful with placements and keeping the kids in line.

I turned on the music and we were lacking something.  Dancing.  By the end of the 30 minutes (after all, no need to miss recreo), we had some moves, but they needed quite a bit of polishing.  We also had an entrance.  That was key.

We all enjoyed recreo, though I think I enjoyed it most.  I had gotten all hot and bothered from the running around, placing kids, starting/stopping the music, etc.  The break was welcomed!

After recreo, it's like it all gelled.  I was glad.  Prof Roberto (principal) came up and said he thought it was great.  He thought it was probably the best number.  But...

Ugh.  Why is there always a butt.

He thought since it was in English, and since they did such a great song, that we should do it acapella.  We should showcase their ability.  I agreed and had thought that to begin with, but knew the kiddos were bored and wanted to do something "fun" like the other groups (who were all only dancing).  He said he wanted to hear them sing, and then we should dance, too.  So, we were now doing the same song twice.  I was actually ecstatic about the decision because it showcased their voices, and fun.  And, the song was only a little over a minute long, so singing it twice made our production a little bit longer!  Well, twice as long, actually.

By the end of the day (or with enough time left for one class), we had it down and I felt good about it.  The kids seemed confident, too, though I knew Tuesday would bring unsettled nerves.

At that point, I had enough time to go see 6th grade for the only time this week.  It seemed silly to work in the book, so I headed their way with nothing but my CD in hand.  I entered and told them I'd been singing and dancing with 5th grade all day and didn't really feel like teaching from the book.  How did they feel about a culture lesson?  I told them I wanted to teach them some dances from Nashville and they got pumped!  

I returned to the cancha with 6th graders this time and made two rows with them.  I slowly explained the steps of the electric slide.  I had had big dreams of multiple dances, but based on the learning curve and rate with the electric slide, I'll have to save the other two dances for a (non) rainy day.

Again, they were more interested in dancing to the fast song than mastering it with a slow song, but by the end, the majority of them had it.  Well, I shouldn't say had it.  I should say a majority of them were ready for another lesson and then would be golden.

Since this was the last class of the day, we were drawing a crowd of parents who were there to pick up their lovely niños.  They greeted us with smiles of, "Aw, isn't that cute."

Needless to say, this Señorita was sweatin' it up big time!

We ended and the bell rang.  As I was leaving, I saw some of the girls practicing with their backpacks as they made their way out of the school.

What a job!

Sunday night

I was spent from partying, so I caught up with some folks online and got in bed early (if I remember correctly).  I was looking forward to practicing Jingle Bells with 5th grade for the show on Tuesday, and maybe putting a dance to it.  We had been singing acapella, but I had done some iTunes research and had found three versions of the song as well as a karaoke version in case they could sing without the words.  I planned on spending the rest of my time with 6th grade teaching them line dances.

Hit me baby one more time....

Sunday was the day set for my last posada (I think).  It was for the entire Inglés en Primaria (Elementary English teachers and supervisors) program.  1:00 was the intended start time.  Maricela had spent the night, so Mabel took her home and came back.  I don't remember what I busied myself doing, but it wasn't church.

We left the house around 1:30 and got to the party when I would've liked, but we were still some of the very first there.  Alma was there, as was Ana Luisa.  Mabel and I sat down at a fairly empty table and began eating nuts and mandarins.  We had a good long chat again about the differences of the US and here.  She asked me why I didn't live with Megan.  And why I lived with Ashley.  And how I had met them both.  

Since Mexicans live at home until they're married (including during college since there are no dorms), they don't really understand the whole roommate situation and what all goes into it.  She said, "You should live with Megan.  You both work at the same place.  You're friends.  You both speak Spanish.  How easy is that?"  I had a hard time explaining it to her, but I tried.  I went into how a dorm is (living with 200 girls at a time) and how living with one or two people takes some planning.  By the end, she still wasn't understanding, so I told her that there are just a lot of things you have to look for in a roommate, not just the same work location (aside from the fact that we would leave at different times and do different things after school, that would be too much time together!).  She then said that Megan and I must not be good friends.  That if we were good friends we'd be able to live together.  I told her to ask Megan if she would live with me and if she thought I would live with her.  We'll see if she follows through.  She then jumped to a strange understanding saying that she could live with anyone because she could be polite to anyone, even strangers in a conversation at the table.  For example, she could chat with the other people at our table even though she didn't know them.  Therefore, she could be their roommate.  She was not getting it.  I told her to move to the States and live with another person for longer than a school year and see just how easy it was.  I don't think it's hard, but I do think there are some delicacies to be dealt with; you don't just move in and everything's perfect.  Different people have different styles of living and that can be okay or that can really drive you nuts.

After that in-depth, too-deep conversation, I looked up and saw a girl that was very familiar to me.  Her name is Heidy and I met her at the textbook workshop the first week I was here (before I started teaching).  She actually goes to Yuri's church (the one I've gone to about three times).  We chatted for a few minutes and I met her brother (also an English teacher) and his girlfriend.  They came and sat at our table and we talked for a long time.  They were both interested in how to do the exchange program, what it was about, and who was behind it.  Heidy studied in Canada for six months in high school.  I'm assuming her brother had done some sort of travel because he was intense in his questioning about the Fulbright exchange.  We talked about differences, and food, and our schools.  She invited me to the church's posada, but I will be busy (it's tonight).  

By the time the food was ready (close to 3), the place was pretty full.  We got in line for our tacos (I chose two that seemed like pulled barbecue) and inhaled them, even though I was full of nuts and mandarins.  While people were eating, the karaoke slowed, but they put on a play list so that there was always music while we were eating.  All of a sudden, the Mexican version of Achy Breaky Heart (that I had recorded at the baseball game) was on and they started dancing the electric slide in the middle of the room.  It was mostly enlaces, and they all started chanting my name.  I assumed it was because it was a line dance, but it was actually because they thought they'd be teaching me something.  They were all shocked to find out I already knew the dance!  Marco, one of the guys that had been at the birthday party the weekend before (the one who enjoyed my accent, but told me I spoke and understood really well), was there and wanted to dance a different dance.  I thought it was the boot scoot, so when the song changed, I started doing it with him.  It wasn't the boot scoot.  I don't know what it was, but I learned that one and then taught him the boot scoot.  It was fun and funny.  The other teachers weren't interested.  They just wanted to do the electric slide faster.

That song ended and I went back to my seat where Ana Luisa was serving buñuelos.  They were not made with love, so they were not as good, but I had no trouble finishing mine!  Suddenly I hear my name, and César (I think), who is an enlace and who had been at Shania's dinner on Monday is running towards me shouting my name.  Just to set the scene, he's wearing a t-shirt and a red puffy vest.  They're all about winter apparel here even when it's not cole enough for it!

He grabs my hand and drags me to the karaoke machine where Diana (the one in the band) is singing.  There are about 10 enlaces dancing and I must shake it Mexican (salsa) style until the end of the song.  The song ends and he goes to change the song, so I make a run for it.  Alma came and talked to us for a bit and I said my hellos to Maribel (who had had a headache all weekend due to the break-in at the IeP (English dept.) office and was only there for a few minutes to be seen.

Around 5, everyone ran outside to attack the piñata (also a necessity at posadas, but I had yet to see one at this point), and Mabel and I decided to make our exit.  I despedirse'd (said goodbye to) everyone and reminded Alma that Sunday I was leaving and that we should plan something for Saturday.  She was on it.

another posada?!

After our 12 hour stint at buñuelos, I was not in the most festive mood, but I still wanted to hang out with Alma at the next posada.  I'm getting into the swing of this do-something-every-moment thing!

Maricela had driven us, so she took us to Cosette's grandparents and picked her up and the dropped us all off at home.  Mabel and I both rested for several hours (10pm was the intended departure time).  I took a shower and was sitting on my bed in shorts, a t-shirt, and a towel at 9:15 when she poked her head in.  She had told me at 7:30 that she wasn't sure if her dad could keep Cosette.  That she would let me know at 8.  She wasn't wanting to go, which was fine, but she never told me yes or no.  I figured I'd call Alma around 10 (about the time she was probably starting to get ready!) if Mabel had still not surfaced.

At 9:15 she's dolled up and ready to go, and there I sat with a towel on my head!  Luckily, I'm queen at getting ready quickly and I had already decided what to wear.  I got my hair brushed (it dried amazingly!) and threw on some makeup.  I was ready to party by 9:35.  We left the house to drop Cosette off and pick up Maricela.  This party was for the Centro de Idiomas staff, so Alma was going to be the only person I knew.  I might recognize some faces, but I was planning on not knowing too many people.  Mabel worked at Centro de Idiomas so I knew she would know a few people there.

When we got to Papá's house, Maricela was still upstairs asleep!  Luckily all she had to do was change (she must've showered before or else she hadn't gotten buñuelo flour all over her like I had) and was down by 10ish.  Papá didn't realize I was there and came downstairs in a towel.  He got all embarrassed and it was kind of hilarious.

We left the house right around 10:30 and got to the house by 10:35.  Once we got there, the party size doubled.  The hostess and two others were there.  We sat and munched on peanuts and mandarins and watched some girls sing karaoke.  

Alma miraculously showed up next.  It was 10:50ish, but she was next in line.  I asked her what had happened to get her there so early.  She said it was kind of her party.  Apparently she's in the administration at CdI and she felt the need to be there.  With her was a friend that I don't think I've met, but that knew who I was.  She is the girl who has a ranch and horses.  When Mabel and I went to the party where they played water soccer, Alma had mentioned going somewhere to ride horses (in case you remember that story).  This was the girl.  She said she had been trying to find a time for me to come, but that Alma had told her all the weekends I was traveling and now it was "cold."  So, I'm guessing sometime in March, April, or May, I'll be horseback riding!

I chatted with her (Mayra?  I don't remember) almost the whole night.  She was very sweet.  Something about her reminds me of someone at home, though I don't know who and I don't know what!  She's a pre-K teacher in the public schools and has the youngest kids (2-3 year olds).  She has 20 at a time and an aide.  

The hostess had told us to get up and sing karaoke (I declined in this group of desconocidos) because Ocyé and Karina (two of Alma's friends that we're always with) would be there soon and would not give up the microphone once they got it!  I didn't know just how right she was.

Ocyé is the one who works at a radio station (I'm not sure if it's full or part-time) and she was out emcee and hysterical.  She would announce "acts" (though either she or Karina was always the second in the duet) and then if a guy was singing, she would run up screaming like a fan.  It was too funny.  

Shania was supposed to be coming to this party, but by 2 when we left, she hadn't shown.  Mabel and Maricela were ready to leave.  I wanted to see Shania, but she was at another party and who knows how long that was going to last.  I was tired, too from all the bakery work I had done!  We called it a night and headed home.  This was not my favorite posada, but it wasn't a bad one.  I just wasn't hungry (they had tamales!) and I didn't feel so hot (not sure why).  

How to make buñuelos

Tía Laura begins by dumping the flour into a big bowl.  This is where all the magic will happen!

Tía Laura measures the lard by scooping some into her hand until "it looks right."  Awesome.  After she decided what looked right, she guessed as to the official amount.  The amounts are important (even though she judges them by feel and look) because it determines the stickiness of your dough.  After kneading it for a bit, she started throwing it around in the bowl.  It was a pounding sound.  She was not messing around!

She even broke the blue plastic bowl you can see at the bottom border of the picture!  After ten years of buñuelos, I'd say it was probably time for a replacement anyway.

My first tortilla.  Homemade.  Tía Laura says these buñuelos taste the best, not because of the ingradients, but because they're made with love.  It's silly and cliche, but it's also true.  It seems like such a natural process.  Notice my recipe paper at the bottom right.  I wrote down (sometimes in Spanish, sometimes in English) all the little details I needed to know.  I am determined to make this a new Laura tradition!

I was actually pretty good at the rolling process.  It's not as easy as you might think.  Tía Laura said I was lucky to have photo documentation because no one would believe I had made such beautiful tortillas!

The drying rack.  By the end of the day, we had nearly 150 tortillas!

The rolling is so rhythmic.  It's really a neat thing to participate in, but also really neat to see from the outside after having participated.

Tía Laura, Maricela, and Mabel are hard at work on kilo 2 of our buñuelos.  I got tired after a short bit and Tía suggested I take a break.  I took her advice.

Here, Tía Laura is "browning" the tortillas.  These would not be good tortillas for tacos or quesadillas because they are too thin.  However, it's the same recipe for those tortillas.  You just roll them out less.  I didn't get any pictures of the last few steps (frying and the sauce) because I was busy helping!  And then of course, we were eating!

As we were enjoying the fruit of our labor, two of Laura's sisters came over and I got the feeling they hadn't seen the sisters in a long time.  (One of them even called me Alma!)

Tía Laura

8:00 am

Saturday

bee-dee-dee-beep; bee-dee-dee-beep

That's my alarm.  That's right.  I set it for 8:00 am on Saturday to make sure I was up and at 'em (and speaking) by 8:30 when Maricela would allegedly be picking us up.

I was not happy to hear my alarm, but I must admit that it's nice to finally need an alarm for the weekends.  

After I graduated from Lipscomb, I was a grown up and teaching, so I was getting up earlier than any human should.  In October, I enrolled in Masters classes, incuding Saturday 8ams, 20 minutes from my house.  For two years, I was getting up most Saturday mornings at 7 or before (depending on how non-scary I needed to look), which set my fate for what I assumed would be forever.  I figured I was destined to be a grown-up who can't sleep in on Saturdays.

Wrong!

Move to Mexico and all your worries go away!  But really, I am thankful to be abel to enjoy sleeping in again.

So, I get up, get dressed and put on a happy face.  Around 8:40, Maricela waltzes in.  On my way to the pantry to get a pineapple breakfast bar, Mabel asks if we want to eat breakfast.  I put my breakfast bar back and get my hunger in gear for a traditional (heavy) Mexican breakfast.

Off we jaunt to Panamá, a popular bakery/restaurant chain here in Culiacán (and I would assume all of Mexico, but who knows?).

I ordered divorciados, which consists of two tostados, each with an over-easy egg on top.  One has a green sauce (delish) and the other has a red sauce (a bit too sweet for my taste), and there is a wall of beans between the two.

Mabel took a fruit plate that they wheel around to entice you to get one for the table and Maricela finished her yogurt and ordered a coffee only.  I felt like a pig, but dealt with it.

My eggs came over easy on the plate with nothing else.  There was a side of multi-grain toast (which is yummy here), but nothing on the main plate besides eggs.  That was not what I had ordered, so we called the waitress back over and explained the problem.  She wasn't happy about it, but she fixed it.

$11 dollars (my food, two coffees and a fruit plate) and at least one full belly later, we were ready to head out to the grocery stores to get our ingredients for buñuelos.  Cosette was with her grandparents still from the night before (since we had had our posada and Wings) and she was going to stay there since the buñuelo process is not a short one.  She would've gotten bored quickly and been all in our hair!

Of course the first grocery store we went to didn't have the exact brand of the ingredients we needed, so we got what we could (I bought it-$10) and headed to the second grocery store (Maricela bought it-$10).

We got to Tía Laura's around ten, which was almost an hour later than we had scheduled.  Such is Mexico, right?  She showed us some new house shoes she was crocheting for relatives for Christmas and I was taken back to the Gabhart Christmases where we never failed to get the socks with little rubber dots on the bottom for traction from... was it Aunt Nantie and Uncle Merle?  I also felt a lot like I was at Honey's with an almost finished crossword puzzle from the newspaper sitting in the chair with the pen on top as if we had interrupted, and the crocheted things all around.

It's funny to me how much "older" Mexicans seem.  And that may just be because I've redefined old (or maybe because the "old" people I know don't match the definition for old), but Mabel's dad and aunts seem along the same lines as my grandmothers instead of my parents or aunts and uncles.

We went through our ingredients and realized we had about 100 times too much lard and were short one bag of flour.  Off Maricela went to remedy that situation.  Mabel and I set to work cleaning the table (outside in the garage- the garage here is not the same as it is at home because it's more of a multi-purpose room without walls) and setting out the ingredients.  I took plenty of pictures and made a recipe (that Aunt Laura had never written down-or even paid attention to- until now).

I felt like I was in a movie all day long.  We started by mixing and kneading the ingredients.  Then we made dough balls.  Then we had to roll them out into the tiniest, thinnest little tortillas you ever did see.  Next the tortillas had to dry out on the table and finally be "browned" on the stove.  After they're browned, they get fried in vegetable oil and then you eat them with a sauce that I liked but if I make them in the future, I'll use ice cream and chocolate sauce.

We made two batches.  After the first batch was drying on the table, we broke for lunch (it was already 2!).  Then we got going with round two.  It was such a neat tradition because they do it every year.  Laura said she doesn't do it because she loves buñuelos; she does it because she wants to see Mabel and Maricela.  You spend hours at the table together, getting a rhythm with the rolling pins and conversation flows and then stops naturally.  Then it picks up again and pauses again.  It was the definition to me of what I've always studied about regarding Mexicans and their relationships.  How I said in the beginning that time together was more important than what "needs" to be done (remember how Hernán would chat and chat and all I wanted to do was get organized and get going to my next class?).  I absolutely loved this tradition and hope to implement it some time when there's time (oh, the American in me).

Wings Army

Mabel was ready to jet at 9:30 on the dot.  I think that must've been the time Alma had told her they'd be at Wings.  We walked out and I texted Shania to see where they were (literally- had they left the house yet, but figuratively where in the process- showers/blow dry/straightener/make-up, etc).  I got a text quickly that said Alma was on her way to pick Shania up.

I told Mabel, interpreting it for accuracy saying that it would be at least 30 minutes before they were there, maybe closer to an hour.  She slightly panicked and asked what we should do.  Should we go back in?  I thought that was ridiculously poor form, so I suggested we head back to the house for 30 minutes since Wings is right around the corner from where we live.  Done.

Meanwhile, I send Shania another text saying, "In Mexican, does that mean we'll see you in an hour because Alma hasn't even left her house yet?"  I failed to put a smiley face in the message, but I figured Shania could tell I was kidding.

Another 15 minutes pass and I receive one from her saying, "No we're actually about to walk out the door.  We should be there in ten minutes."  I still don't buy it, but tell Mabel.

Off we go.

As we're pulling in, I text Shania to tell her we're parking and she says, "See you in a few."

Once Mabel and I got inside, I saw someone I recognized from the last time I was at Wings.  She's a teacher with Alma on Saturdays.  Mabel knew her from working in the Centro de Idiomas before.  We sat with her and Mabel finally put it together that she was waiting on Shania and Alma, too.  She asked me if I had realized the Mexican schedule yet, and I answered in the affirmative, joking that Alma is the worst of them!  She laughs and agrees.  She (no idea her name) has already put our name in for a table, but by 10pm it's packed.  We wait for a little bit and finally tell the guy we'll settle for a table less than 10.  He takes us to the back corner next to the bathrooms.  Wings reminds me of a Florida restaurant.  It's bar food and not seafood, but it's open to the breezes.  I had even brought my jean jacket since it can get pretty breezy.  In the back corner, blocked from circulating air by all the bodies, breezy and cool were  words farthest from my mind!

On the way to our table, I saw the guy from my first night out with Alma who would not leave me alone.  He was also at another birthday party I went to with her, so I think he's a regular.  We said hello, but nothing else.  I'm not sure the other two I was with realized he was going to be joining us once the girl of the hour got there.

Shania and Alma got there with a friend that was also out that night.  I think he works at Kuwa (the second place we went).  He's beautiful and I think he and Alma have something going on, but I also get the feeling she's not one to date.  I need to dedicate a post to dating here.  Suffice it to say it's different.  With him was a guy that danced a lot that night (but whose girlfriend doesn't dance, so he was flying solo with her sitting there- kinda hilarious) and another guy that I didn't know).  Again, if Shania posts her pictures on facebook, I'll add them here.  He was dressed to impress.  Okay, enough.

They ordered a bucket of beers and passed them all around.  Alma and I ordered our Fanta and Coca Light.

We chatted for a few hours.  It was fun hearing Shania talk about being here.  She misses the food, the laid-back-ness, and the going out.  She lives in a tiny town in Michigan where everyone is old and married.  She needs to be in Nashville.

We also ended up talking about the differences.  Everyone got a kick out of my red planner.  They asked me what the differences were and I explained a lot of them.  And Shania could chime in, too.  I told them that many things in the US are much less spontaneous than here.  It happens, but not all the time, that you just decide that everyone will go out tonight.  It takes much more planning.  I told them that if they wanted to do dinner, I needed to know three different dates that would work for them, and if we couldn't coordinate it might be three months before we got to see each other.  

They asked me if I liked it here which was a leading question.  I answered yes because that is the truth.  I love it here!  Then they asked me if I wanted to stay and I said no, without hesitation.  Mabel got in a tif about it.  Shania explained that we are so organized (meaning personal life, professional life, education system, everything).  Mabel was almost offended and said, "If we both get to the same end, why does it matter if you do it one way and I do it another?"

I didn't even broach the topic of the same end because we don't get to the same end.  But I still had two legs to stand on.  I said that for a year I could live this way.  I tried to teach the word anal, but I got sidetracked.  I told them that since I had grown-up in such an organized place (for lack of other words), living this way was fun and easy...for a year.  If I had to live this way all the time, though, it would be stressful.  the non-stress of it all would stress me out.

That was not enough of an explanation, so I asked Shania if she liked Michigan.  She said no, but I asked her about the US and she said yes.  I asked her if she wanted to live there and she said no.  They still didn't understand why I didn't want to live here.  Mexican pride is huge, so I guess that was the major factor.  

Suddenly it was 1:00 and Wings was closing, so we headed home.  Mabel and I had a date with her aunt and some dough on Saturday!

Rafael Buelna strikes again!

The men and the carne asada: Anabel's husband, Ulises (3rd), Hernán (custodian)

Hernán (custodian)

Ramón (PE) and Lety (4th)

Geno (HEY-no) and her baby

Sandra (computers) and Mabel

Anabel (1st) singing with Ashley her (very large) 2-year old daughter and Lety (4th)

Before I left school (early) on Friday, Sandra had said that most everyone's afternoon schools would be dismissing early, too.  Her thought was we should aim for a 3:00 pm start time.  I put that in the back of my mind, but with prompt Mabel, I decided to stick with the original plan of 4 or 5.

I woke up from my nap and showered.  As I was getting out of the shower, Mabel was rolling in on two wheels ready to jet to the party.  I knew I didn't want to be early (or on time), but Mabel was pacing and smoking and ready to get going.  I got ready and headed out.  I wore my new shoes (post to follow at some point) and off we went, back to Anabel's house.

We got there and the only other guest was Genoveva (special ed out on maternity leave) with her new baby.  She was checking out the karaoke machine (I told you it's a requirement).  I was pumped to see her.  We caught up for a bit and then the three of us sat down to peanuts and mandarin oranges (the typical posada hors d'oeuvre).  Anabel took over the microphone, not to let it go for about an hour.

Others came and by the end of the night we had over 20 people there.  The food was unbelievable.  I can't remember the name of it, but Ramón (PE) made a delicious shrimp dish.  I was full of peanuts and oranges, so I only had a serving of that instead of chowing down.  There was also carne asada, but I had to pass.  There's no way a tortilla filled with stuff would've fit inside me!

Karaoke got out of control.  Since we were also celebrating Anabel's birthday, and since it was at her house (and sense she's a bit of an attention hog), she claimed the mic almost the whole night.  My favorite was YMCA (Jy-M-C-A).  I was losing it.

I don't know what got into me, but I was conned into singing.  I sang some Madonna (Vogue and Like a Virgin) as well as some Daddy Yankee (a rapper in Spanish-can't remember where he's from) with Mabel.  Unfortunately, even though I was prepared with music and two line dances (tush push and boot scoot), there was no place to play my music.  I doubt Anabel would've given me enough spotlight to teach more than 4 steps of a dance anyway.

The night was fun.  I'm glad I went, and again it felt great to be "my" party.

Below, you'll see a short video of the karaoke.  Lety, Geno, and Anabel singing, Sandra back-up dancing.  You'll also note the inherent tone deafness found in most Mexicans I have met.

It's Friday?

After a great posada on Thursday, no one wanted to work on Friday.  Since Mayra (subsecretaria) had been at school on Thursday, she had mentioned that we had to work on Friday.  Friday was el día de la virgin, and since Mexico is a predominantly Catholic country, it's a big time celebrated day.  I suppose teachers, principals and students are at their leisure to decide if it should be a "real" school day!

On another note, it was really fun to be at the posada with "my people."  Even though there were many there that I didn't know (from other schools and administration), I knew and was comfortable with everyone at my table.  There was no jumping into a conversation or explaining where I was from and why I was there.  I was also able to joke around immediately with my teachers.  We get each other.  I've had lots of fun at all the other parties, but it seems like a night full of meeting people and going over my stats.

So...

Friday I'm dragging.  I get on the bus a little late (and this driver was awful).  I need to be at school at 8:50.  I usually leave my house by 8 and make it to sign in by 8:40, latest.  Since most of the city has to be at work at 8 (I'm guessing), the bus is always empty enough that I get a seat.  I suppose I was slow moving on Friday!  I didn't get out of the house until 8:15.  And even then, when I got on the bus, it was PACKED!  I was in good company sleeping in late!  This driver was terrible, so I was slung all over the place until about half-way through the route, when I got my own seat.  And even then, somehow my knees touched the seat in front of me and were rammed into said seat repeatedly due to neck-breaking stops.

I got to school right at the stroke of 8:50 and sign in.  I get my head on straight to teach for the day.  Each morning I have to remember which groups I'll be teaching and what they're ready for.  I grab my markers, CD player, book and cell phone and head to 2nd grade.  They've had several good classes lately, but this one will be difficult.  While we've been working on professions and using not, they threw a kink in things this lesson.  

"My mom's a photographer."

"My mom's not a teacher."

That's what they'd been learning and they had it down.  I had a gesture for "not" (I made a big "x" with my arms) so it had almost become automatic.  Well, in this lesson, without teaching it, they put "My mom isn't a teacher."

So many problems here:

First, there's no "not," which is what they're looking for. 

Second, "isn't" is a tough concept because contractions are just hard.  So I'll need to explain that "isn't" comes from "is" and "not," getting rid of the "o."  Anyone see a problem here?  I'll give you a minute to review what they've learned...

That's right, THIRD, they've never even learned "is."  In the original sentence, it was an apostrophe with a name or relationship.

Cool.

Let me continue.  I arrive a little after 8:50.  Rocio, their teacher, was in the computer room eating tamales (she brought them, made in the style from her hometown) because of the "cold."  Apparently there's less beer and more tamales during "winter."

Ha!

I start teaching and am getting nowhere.  No surprise there.  It was a tough lesson that needed a trick and I hadn't been prepared enough to think of one.  Spontaneity this day was not my friend.

I must also tell you that only half the class was there.  I asked where everyone was (though I knew they were "celebrating" the holiday), and Brayan (one who NEVER listens, so I was shocked he heard the question!) says, "Teacher Rocio told us not to come today.  She said if we were going to come late or leave early just not to come.  We didn't have to come."  I'm of course thinking, "Why are you here?!"  After twenty minutes of attempting to teach a lesson that I know I'll have to repeat with the other half of the class (and those present because it is not sticking), the bell rings.  I ask the kids if that's the recreo bell because it's a good hour and fifteen minutes early.  They all think it is, so I shrug my shoulders and tell them they can leave.  I wish, of course that I could teach this lesson well, but since that's not happening, I'm happy to have the break.

As I gather my things to join the teachers, I see Rocio herding them back into the classroom.  "It's reading time," she says.  I give her the puzzled look.  She doesn't take the hint so I ask her what's up.  She explains to me that on days when there are very few students (aka- all teaching would be lost, great mindset), they let the students read uninterrupted for 30 minutes.  

Again, I must digress.  The emphasis (or lack thereof I should say) on reading in Mexico is enough to make any US elementary teacher sick.  Reading for pleasure is unheard of.  The reading that I have seen has been in the context of repeating what the teacher reads, or copying from a book.  Lockeland (my little Heaven) has such an amazing reading program, and it's due to a fantastic librarian, an amazing reading specialist, and unbelievable teachers (of all grades and subjects, including us red-headed stepchildren specials teachers).  Kids just eat up checking out books, or buying them from the book fair.  Reading is incorporated into just about everything we do.  It's foreign (no pun intended) to be in an elementary school where reading isn't the basis of, well, everything.

So, back to the bell and reading time.  I ask Rocio what I should do and she says to enjoy the moment.  Off I prance to the computer room and in come most of the teachers.  Independent reading is (big shocker) unsupervised.  I decide it's time for me to partake in the tamales, so Hernán heats one up for me.  It was good, though I still prefer tamales de elote.  After the 30 minutes of reading, the bells rings gain signaling not just the end of reading, but also the beginning of recreo.  Are you kidding me?  I'm then informed that after recreo, the kids will go home.  Can anyone tell me why I bothered dragging my sleepy pompis outta bed this morning?!

I had big plans of visiting La Lomita, the big Catholic church, to see what all was in store for the day, but I was tired.  I figured a mass is a mass, right?  I got home, took a nap, and got ready for the second of my posadas.  I later heard from Maricela (Mabel's sister) that I hadn't really missed anything other than a huge crowd.

The After-After-Party

Laura, Mabel

Roberto (principal), Sandra (computers)

Ramón (PE), Ulises (3rd)

They arrived together which led to romance jokes.  They posed for some funny pictures with heart frames, etc.  Ulises is married and Ramón may/may not be, but I think he has a kid (and I know he thinks he's a Romeo)

After sitting through the song and dance routine (literally!), I was more than ready to be at my party.  I wasn't nervous that we were late or anything like that.  I was, however, tired of seeing other people's kids sing and dance!

We got home and made my cute little sandwiches and had enough of both leftover to make a giant blob of dip as well.  I had bought a cute Christmas dish for it at Mega when I went on Wednesday, so it even had great presentation.

All three of us piled into the car and headed to Anabel's house.  The street was packed with cars, so Mabel said I should get out and she could park the car.

I walked in and saw about 8 tables set up and each table had at least 3 people at it.  Our table (Rafael Buelna school) consisted of Hernán (custodian), Anabel (1st grade/hostess), Roberto (principal), Sandra (computers), and Rocio (2nd) when I got there.  Each table was for a specific school or the zona administration.  Many of the people who had been at my school that day for the Consul's visit were at the posada.  Each school (table) was responsible for providing the food for its own table.  By the time we got there, most of the things at our table had been half-eaten, but that didn't stop them from finishing off my benedictines and pimento cheese!

Mabel and Cosette came in and joined our table.  Cosette was quickly whisked away by other kids that were there.  They entertained themselves (unsupervised, like all child activity in Mexico it seems) while we ate and chatted.  After a while, Martha (1st), Ramón (PE), and Ulises (3rd) showed up and joined in on the munching.

There was karaoke (a must have at any Mexican party celebrating anything) and dancing.  At one point, almost everyone got up and danced in the driveway.  I passed.  Too many eyes on me (it felt like).  I did promise to teach them how to dance USA style the following night, at the posada for just the teachers at our school.  They told me to bring music, etc.

I was sad to find out at this posada that Martha (my favorite teacher-1st grade-the one who first helped me at the train station) is actually only covering a position.  Kind of a long-term substitute.  The "real teacher" will be back in January.  I can't imagine how the kids will be with a new teacher.  I just love her class and the environment she has created.  I fear for January.

It was fun noticing the differences (that I've already noticed) in the role of the administrator.  Mabel and I actually talked at length about this at the table.  The principal is a key person in any school in any country I think.  Their roles, however, differ from place to place.  Discipline is not in the job description in Mexico.  Nor are classroom observations (this is NEVER done, which explains why everyone was so nervous and thought I would be too).  The social function or a principal, however, is very important.  It sets the tone and trust of the school.  There is no discussion of work outside of work.  This is not a rule.  It's an unspoken norm, and I've noticed that in other people's jobs, too.  At times in the US, I think our jobs define us to a fault.  However, I think of the most part, we're defined by our jobs (at least I am) because there's a certain pride in our work.  Even if it's not the job we'd hoped, we still are proud of the work we put into it.  Am I making any sense?  Here, I get the feeling that a job is a job is a job.  There's no pride in what your job is.  I think this also explains why the Mexican teachers sometimes have a harder time adapting to teaching in the US (never mind that they don't get to go out as much as in Mexico, or that their schedule is at least twice as long, or that there are checks balances in place to make sure each person is doing his job!).  There is very little ownership in their jobs.  Mexican teachers aren't on committees (they don't exist).  Collaboration is going against the flow.  Things are just different.

On another rambling note that has nothing to do with the posada, two teachers from Mexico will be returning to Mexico at Christmas break.  Thankfully, not one of them is from Culiacán (remember that there are three from here even though I'm the only one who came from the US)!  There is one in Portland, Oregon and another in Houston, Texas.  Comexus, thankfully, is trying to find a permanent substitute situation for the US schools so the US teachers can stay here.  I'm kind of in shock.

So, back to the posada, seeing the "old blood" dancing with the "new blood" was weird.  Not just different, but weird for me.  Socializing with an administrator sometimes is seen as unprofessional in the US.  I started realizing that the weekend the principal was passing out the beers at our get together.

We stayed several hours until we really needed to get home and get Cosette in bed.  I called Shania on my way home because she had mentioned they'd be getting sushi that night.  She answered and they were finishing up.  She was tired from a long day of funeral stuff, so I jsut decided to go home with the gals.

The after-party....

Since Thursday was such a stressful day (for everyone else!), I think they were more than glad to have our Posada zona escolar that night.  It would be held at Anabel's (1st grade) since she was hosting our Posada for the teachers at Rafael Buelna the next night (and also the celebration of December birthdays- hers).  The last I had heard was 5:00 starting time, and bring Mabel if I wanted.Around 4, she and Cosette get home.  I've been making my little benedictines and pimento cheese sandwiches.  I discuss the potential of our Posada tonight and Mabel says she'd love to go.  Cosette tells me she has a dance at her school.  Do I want to go?

Do I want to go?  Who does she think she's talking to?!

We hop in the car around 4:45 and head that way.  The show is supposed to start (you know where this is headed) at 5.  Around 5:05 they're welcoming us and basically telling us to pipe down so they can get started.

It began with a production by the high school kids.  The mics malfunctioned and it was awful to sit through.  But thirty minutes later, they were beginning the actual song and dance part.

Cosette's school is a private school that is much like the immersion school in Nashville.  The school goes from pre-K through high school, but there are two separate buildings.  The elementary school gets a building all to itself (the doors of classrooms, however, still open to the outside, motel-style).  Within the elementary school, there are two programs: elementary (called that in English) and primaria.  The primaria is your typical elementary school in Mexico with English instruction (though I think they might get English daily).  The elementary school is taught all in English with Spanish lessons daily.  I think it's a pretty cool program.  

Cosette only enrolled this year, so her English is not that good...yet. 

 It should already be great by the end of her first year.  I'll be the judge in June!

They divided up the show by age group, so we sat through the 4 pre-K's from the elementary school, and then the 4 pre-K's from the primaria.  Then we sat through the K's of each.  

The pre-K's were absolutely hysterical (pun intended I suppose- I was laughing hysterically because there were at least two kids in each group who were crying hysterically).  

One group (see picture) rocked it out to Jingle Bell Rock and the boys had blow up 

guitars.  They weren't the most talented (most of them stood there like a lump on a log) but the teacher was totally into it!

Most groups did a Christmas number, and even the primaria kids did English songs for the most part.  The costuming and dancing is by far more important than the singing.  This is a production, not a singing show.

Cosette's group, much to my disappointment, danced to the chicken dance.  

There was no singing, at all.  The dancing was given since it was the chicken dance.  And their formation was mostly walking around in a circle while doing the motions.  Cosette was a butterfly, but I think her costume was a dance outfit from at least a year ago!  

After their dance (at 6:45), we posed for a few pictures and then headed home to cut and de-crust the sandwiches and head to the posada.