Welcome Home, Shania!

Alma and I got up and ready on Thursday to meet Vicki and Hugo to go to Mazatlán and pick up Shania!  I won't bore you with the typical details, but know that I had originally heard 8:00 (must've been wake-up time), but we didn't leave from our meeting place (we had a two car caravan since Shania and her sister were coming back with eight suitcases) until 10:30.  Her flight arrived at 12:40 and Mazatlán is a full two hours away.

The airport is about 20 minutes inland from the beach part of Mazatlán, so we got thereabout 12:45.  We walked in and saw Shania sitting on a bench facing the part where you walk out from baggage claim.  She was chatting with someone, and while the smile spread wide across her face, she didn't get up to meet us as we entered.

Vicki and her sister (who drove and brought her son along) had gone with Hugo that morning to pick up the welcome banner.  These seem to be relatively popular here for parties.  The girls got one for Elvira for her birthday party and I remember seeing one for Shania's going away party.  No, I did not intentionally match the banner.

My flash was off, to the picture is awful.  But left to right, starting seated are the sister and her son Carlos, Alma, Vicki, Shania, Hugo, me.

We sat with Shania and waited on her sister who had come on a separate flight.  Their cousin had spent the year with them, but her flight was to DF (I think she might live there).  Shania and Neyva had been in Michigan all year, but the flights came out much cheaper from Indiana (where Beatriz was all year).  They flew out at 6 and 6:30 am to different cities in the US, then to Culiacán.  They arrived within an hour of each other.  While we were waiting on Neyva, Shania entertained us with airport stories.  Mostly about how there was a new rule in place starting that day on whatever airline they flew that you could only have two checked bags; you couldn't even pay extra for the third.  They had already given 4 bags of stuff to the Salvation Army (imagine living in the US for a year and not coming home once) and they had even left two or three bags of stuff with friends in Indiana so that when someone's cousin came to Culiacán in the fall, he could bring the stuff with him.  That is a very popular Mexican thing- send things with other people.  Every time I've had a visitor, Yuri or Maribel has asked for things to be transported.  Every time.  Without fail.

Turn about is fair play.  I had sent stuff with all my visitors, too.  It's hard to live somewhere for a year and keep all you accumulate.  There's just not enough room!  But I realize how annoying it is to be the mule.  So thank you!

Anyway, they got to the airport with their three suitcases each to check, plus a carry-on and backpack and purse.  They were told (not so kindly- you have to love airport people) they could only have two items checked.  They tried to think of things they could throw away, but nothing was worthless; they wanted it all.

Luckily, a man traveling to DF approached them and said he wasn't checking luggage and that he was going to Mexico City.  Would they like for him to check their two extra bags?  Duh.

So he did and they're going to have it shipped I think (good luck getting it here!).

Then she talked about how the gate agent was not nice about her carry-ons and mentioned standby luggage.  Shania didn't know that word, so she asked her to explain it.  The woman proceeds to get on her walkie and tell the Spanish translator that she needs helps since, "this woman doesn't speak English."  Obviously she does.  Shania (who's quite feisty) told her she understood her, she just didn't know that word.  So she gets on the walkie and the man is nice and explains everything.  By this time it's 1 something and I'm getting hungry.  Luckily, Neyva is through the baggage claim shortly.  We meet and she says, "I've heard a lot about you."  I realized it would've been like any of you meeting Shania.

Luckily a baggage man helped us with the luggage because 8 suitcases is just a lot.
He first thought we needed it all to fit in Vicki's car.  After he was almost finished loading, but scratching his head with how to get the last two bags in, we informed him that it could be spread between the two cars.  We had just been too caught up in stories and hugs and listening to notice!

It was funny to me (though I guess it shouldn't have been) that Shania and Neyva spoke pure Spanish.  Granted, I'll speak pure English when I get back, but I think if Yuri met me at the airport, I would initiate sometimes in Spanish to her (which is totally opposite how I used to be about speaking in the US).  I think that's mostly because after a year of complete saturation, I know how limited my Spanish exposure is going to be.  Also, when Shania was here in December (her grandfather had died, so she didn't bring home a load like I did when I was home), she spent a lot of time speaking in English (maybe because of my still killer accent).

Anyway, I definitely understood her Spanish better this go round!  I just love her.  Her voice cracks me up and her intonation.  She's so fun and sweet and I can't to hang out now in her town.

She rode with Alma and me to the restaurant and Neyva rode in the other car.  Shania laughed a couple of times and made a "Look at you with your Culiacán-appropriate language" face when I said some things.  It was funny.  We got to the restaurant that was near the airport and not the beach.  I had my doubts since I wanted really good seafood.  When we had asked Shania what she wanted for lunch, her response was, "Tortilla soup from Panamá sounds really good; it's been so long!" which is like getting back from the US to Nashville and saying Chili's sounds really good.  Now, Chili's is actually one of my favorites, but it's not a Nashville restaurant.  It's a chain.  Panamá is all over Mexico and mediocre food if you ask me.  Well, mediocre for Mexico.  You had to keep in mind that all food is better here than anywhere else in the world.

So we got to the restaurant and had to walk through a labyrinth to get to an open table (you don't wait to be seated in Mexico- you just go in and sit down at an empty table).  Our young and un-helpful waiter came to take our drink orders.  At the same time, he asked if we were ready to order.  I had not had enough time to examine the menu, but I can be pretty fast at seafood places.  I love ceviche and shrimp tacos (or anything shrimp).  I decided on the shrimp tacos and was about to be floored at how incredible they were.  Alma asked if they had fish ceviche or just the shrimp kind.  Only shrimp.  She doesn't like much seafood.  She can stomach fish, but nothing else.  She asked if he could ask the kitchen staff if they could make a fish ceviche and he answered with "no."  It shocked Alma and we all cracked up.

Apparently this place is famous for its owner.  There were pictures all over the place of him with famous Mexicans- presidents, movie stars, etc.

Shania, in all her sassiness, asked for the owner, who told Alma that they would love to make her some fish ceviche.  Shania had said that she had come all the way from Michigan to way this food and couldn't they find some fish ceviche?  Then Alma told him that I had come from Tennessee to eat it.  He shook my hand and called me "Lauris" from there on out, checking in on our food and happiness every 10 minutes.

Shania ordered her meal but also a fish that is what I had eaten with Mabel and her dad the time we drove halfway to Mazatlán just for lunch for the whole table to share.  You can see her enjoying it below (also pictured are Vicki and Neyva).

When I have gotten shrimp tacos before, it's been fried shrimp on a plate with all the sides (lettuce, salsa, avocado, etc) and warm tortillas in a basket.  This time, the shrimp was boiled and packed in the tortillas already.  The tortillas were toasted so that they stayed closed.  I shoved some rice, avocado and lettuce in there and was in heaven.  I could've stopped at two, but since they served me four, I forced myself through the third one.  When Shania's fish came, she wanted to make sure I tried it, so I ate a fish taco.  I mean, I'll probably lose ten pounds just walking off the plane into the US!

I wanted a picture of the group and the owner, but he was nowhere to be found.  As we made our way outside, he was out there talking to someone in the street.  He asked me again how it was and I told him everything was great, but we wanted to bother him for a picture.  It was going to be really cute with us all crowded around the entrance to the restaurant on the street corner.  He had other plans.  He walked us up the street to the other section of tables and we went inside.  I was disappointed in the location, but he's not a man that takes direction.  We laughed while posing for the picture.

Shania, Alma, me, owner, Hugo, Carlos, Vicki, Neyva

I had been holding the uneaten fish for the picture, but he took it from me and set it on the table, so Shania snapped a shot as we were leaving.  Notice the tail sticking out!
Shania rode with us for the first 45 minutes and then at a toll booth she swapped with Neyva.  Neyva is 22 and had a great year.  She is working on her degree in Culiacán, so she had to ask permission to be gone a year.  Since she was too old for high school and wasn't interested in full time college classes, she spent lots of time at Shania's school helping.  She also spent time with their neighbors (a young couple with three little kids) speaking to the kids in Spanish in exchange for English help from the mom (also a teacher).  The dad was a teacher, too, so she did some work for him as a trade for sitting in on his Chinese classes.

She agreed with Shania that it was a tiny town and pretty closed minded, but she was not as ready to come home as Shania.  She had a great year and wanted just a little more time.  I know how she feels...