Border Patrol

I was less annoyed by the border people on foot. I’m not sure if the lady was kinder, or if I was too tired to see straight. She asked me where I had come from and how long the trip was. Then she smiled and waved me on through.

I made my way to McDonald’s, passing several taxis and shuttles to Tucson. I could’ve done that. They looked a wee bit shady by US standards, but I’m a Mexican now, and they looked like any other transportation.
I got to McD’s and saw the “Wireless Internet” sign in the window. I plopped my stuff down on a table and ordered a hashbrown and diet coke. They do cancel each other out!
I asked if there was a code for internet and the woman told me in Spanish that there was no internet. I swallowed the gringa that wanted to come out at 8am and ask why in the world they advertised it if they couldn’t produce. But I kept that inside. Is at down and enjoyed my junk and waited on Andy. I saw him roll around the corner and I could see a tiny body in the back. That surprised me. Pleasantly.

Wednesday

I don’t remember that Wednesday’s classes were good or bad. They must’ve been average. I do remember, however, that we signed another circulating announcement paper that we were meeting on Thursday morning at 8 to discuss midterm grades and planning. I signed and asked Sandra if we were having classes. She and the 6th grade teacher (still don’t know her name!) said no, not Thursday or Friday. They asked me if I had plans. I told them I had originally planned on going to Tucson when I thought I’d have Friday and Monday off, but that just Friday could not justify that long trip. They told me there was no reason for me to be there at the meeting since I don’t have midterm grades. I agreed, figuring most other English teachers didn’t attend their school-wide planning sessions since they were almost all part-time at several schools. Sandra told me there was no reason to talk to the principal about it. I didn’t.
I headed home, showered, packed and hit the road.
At 6, my bus left Culiacán with three official stops (the kind that drop off and pick up passengers) and many county/city/I don’t know customs checks. Going north is just kind of a headache.
By 3am, we had had the last of our get off the bus stops and I was sleeping soundly. Promptly at 8am, we pulled into the bus station in Nogales, Mexico. I grabbed a taxi and headed to the foot border. I stood in line for 15 minutes and texted Andy letting him know I was there and would be at the McDonald’s in 20 minutes or so. He texted back that he was on his way.

Tuesday at school

So Chori had told everyone we needed to leave between 8 and 9 to get back to Mexico City since I was flying home. Considering it took us right at two hours to get to Tepoztlán in the middle of the night, I had a hard time believing it would take us that long to get back; my flight was at 8:15 pm. I also had a hard time believing (based on experience at this point) that Mexicans would all be ready by the suggested time.
I set my alarm for 8:30 realizing I would probably be the first up but unwilling to be the high maintenance gringa.
I got my shower, got packed, and headed downstairs. Chori’s brother (Chorilín, another variation of a talkative liar) was in his permanent place for the weekend: on the couch playing xbox.
I sat and read and got on the internet. Several people trickled down over the next hour. Those who had camera cards that fit into my converter graciously let me copy their pictures since I had fallen down on the job.
By about 11, we had all made Coca Light jokes, wakened those who were still sleeping, and packed and loaded the cars. We all stood outside the house (the family stayed until later in the day) as if looking for an excuse to stay (I could think of one: my flight didn’t leave for another 9 hours and we could eat, play, shop some more!). When it was inevitable that all that was left was the departure, we all said our goodbyes. Insert departure kisses here. Everyone kisses everyone (well, guys have a handshake hug mix), whether you know them well or like them. We all appropriately hugged/shook/kissed.
We piled into our cars and headed out. Since the couples car (the guy who looked like Che Guevarra, his girlfriend, brother and wife) had gotten seriously lost on Saturday night, we all departed Tepoztlán together.
At the edge of town, where it was almost freeway, we all stopped at an Oxxo. This is such a Mexican thing. Whenever on your way anywhere, there are multiple stops for food and drink. Occasionally you pack your own beverages (alcoholic only), but almost always you stop and stock up.
Once on the highway, we all inevitably separated.
We got to the outskirts of DF by 1ish and Chori said we were too early to go to the airport (ya think?!) so we’d head back to the house, get some lunch and then go. I was unopposed. I insisted on paying a toll this time since I had slept through the first. It was less than 200 pesos. I think it was less than 100, but too much time has passed.
We got to Chori’s house, which clearly was very nice, and made ourselves at home. A few minutes later, Juan and Paloma showed up sans witch and Ariana; they had been dropped off to visit family (the witch because she teaches in Cancun during the week) and boyfriend (Ariana). We all ordered take-out. I got a salad that was very satisfying and the boys got sandwiches. We put in Be Kind Rewind, which was a decent movie. It was hard to watch, though, because it was in English. No, my Spanish is not so good that I don’t understand English anymore. It was in English and there were Spanish subtitles, so the guys didn’t see much need in being quiet; they were reading the subtitles. So I had to read the subtitles as well (not to mention hang in there with their conversation!), trying to figure out what the actual phrasing was in English (so much gets lost in translation!).
A few minutes later, the married couple and brother showed up (Paulina had been dropped off somewhere) and they ordered take out. After the movie, we started looking through the DVR. Have I mentioned the TV was bigger than any I’ve ever seen and also a flat screen? It was like the size of those free standing tvs from the 80s or 90s that were like movie tvs. Am I making sense? Only this one was flat.
So on the DVR was lucha libre. Right. Wrestling. I thought they were kidding. Oh, no. They were serious. We watched a good hour or two of it. I thought WWF was bad and fake. Wow. This stuff was bad. But, like the good, low maintenance gringa that I am, I sat silently and watched.
By the end of that, it was 5:30 and time for us to make our way to the airport.
We all departed from the sidewalk with kisses all around again (didn’t we just do this 6 hours ago?!).
Chori drove me the 30 minutes in bumper to bumper traffic to the airport and parked and helped me in with my ridiculously large suitcases. He walked me up to the counter, waited for me to get checked in, and walked me to my security entrance. I thanked him for a really fun time and he thanked me for putting up with them. Ha! It was a great weekend and I’m really glad I went.
I sat in the airport (after buying a Mexico City Starbucks mug) and emailed and blogged as much as possible. This flight allowed for some sleep (I was exhausted after all), and Mabel was there to pick me up when I arrived. Cosette had gone to Mochis (a town 2 hours away) with Paulina (the neighbor whose mom had the baby shower early in my Culiacán life) for the long weekend (no school many places on Monday) and wouldn’t be back until Tuesday morning.

Monday

So Chori had told everyone we needed to leave between 8 and 9 to get back to Mexico City since I was flying home. Considering it took us right at two hours to get to Tepoztlán in the middle of the night, I had a hard time believing it would take us that long to get back; my flight was at 8:15 pm. I also had a hard time believing (based on experience at this point) that Mexicans would all be ready by the suggested time.
I set my alarm for 8:30 realizing I would probably be the first up but unwilling to be the high maintenance gringa.
I got my shower, got packed, and headed downstairs. Chori’s brother (Chorilín, another variation of a talkative liar) was in his permanent place for the weekend: on the couch playing xbox.
I sat and read and got on the internet. Several people trickled down over the next hour. Those who had camera cards that fit into my converter graciously let me copy their pictures since I had fallen down on the job.
By about 11, we had all made Coca Light jokes, wakened those who were still sleeping, and packed and loaded the cars. We all stood outside the house (the family stayed until later in the day) as if looking for an excuse to stay (I could think of one: my flight didn’t leave for another 9 hours and we could eat, play, shop some more!). When it was inevitable that all that was left was the departure, we all said our goodbyes. Insert departure kisses here. Everyone kisses everyone (well, guys have a handshake hug mix), whether you know them well or like them. We all appropriately hugged/shook/kissed.
We piled into our cars and headed out. Since the couples car (the guy who looked like Che Guevarra, his girlfriend, brother and wife) had gotten seriously lost on Saturday night, we all departed Tepoztlán together.
At the edge of town, where it was almost freeway, we all stopped at an Oxxo. This is such a Mexican thing. Whenever on your way anywhere, there are multiple stops for food and drink. Occasionally you pack your own beverages (alcoholic only), but almost always you stop and stock up.
Once on the highway, we all inevitably separated.
We got to the outskirts of DF by 1ish and Chori said we were too early to go to the airport (ya think?!) so we’d head back to the house, get some lunch and then go. I was unopposed. I insisted on paying a toll this time since I had slept through the first. It was less than 200 pesos. I think it was less than 100, but too much time has passed.
We got to Chori’s house, which clearly was very nice, and made ourselves at home. A few minutes later, Juan and Paloma showed up sans witch and Ariana; they had been dropped off to visit family (the witch because she teaches in Cancun during the week) and boyfriend (Ariana). We all ordered take-out. I got a salad that was very satisfying and the boys got sandwiches. We put in Be Kind Rewind, which was a decent movie. It was hard to watch, though, because it was in English. No, my Spanish is not so good that I don’t understand English anymore. It was in English and there were Spanish subtitles, so the guys didn’t see much need in being quiet; they were reading the subtitles. So I had to read the subtitles as well (not to mention hang in there with their conversation!), trying to figure out what the actual phrasing was in English (so much gets lost in translation!).
A few minutes later, the married couple and brother showed up (Paulina had been dropped off somewhere) and they ordered take out. After the movie, we started looking through the DVR. Have I mentioned the TV was bigger than any I’ve ever seen and also a flat screen? It was like the size of those free standing tvs from the 80s or 90s that were like movie tvs. Am I making sense? Only this one was flat.
So on the DVR was lucha libre. Right. Wrestling. I thought they were kidding. Oh, no. They were serious. We watched a good hour or two of it. I thought WWF was bad and fake. Wow. This stuff was bad. But, like the good, low maintenance gringa that I am, I sat silently and watched.
By the end of that, it was 5:30 and time for us to make our way to the airport.
We all departed from the sidewalk with kisses all around again (didn’t we just do this 6 hours ago?!).
Chori drove me the 30 minutes in bumper to bumper traffic to the airport and parked and helped me in with my ridiculously large suitcases. He walked me up to the counter, waited for me to get checked in, and walked me to my security entrance. I thanked him for a really fun time and he thanked me for putting up with them. Ha! It was a great weekend and I’m really glad I went.
I sat in the airport (after buying a Mexico City Starbucks mug) and emailed and blogged as much as possible. This flight allowed for some sleep (I was exhausted after all), and Mabel was there to pick me up when I arrived. Cosette had gone to Mochis (a town 2 hours away) with Paulina (the neighbor whose mom had the baby shower early in my Culiacán life) for the long weekend (no school many places on Monday) and wouldn’t be back until Tuesday morning.

Scorpions

At some point during the day on Sunday, I had seen what I thought to be a scorpion on my ceiling. It could have been a spider, but it had six legs that seemed to match up and then either a scorpion tail or a spider leg that was missing its pair coming out its backside. Each trip to my room on Sunday (from my shower, to get my computer for the Titans results, to put my computer away, to get my blanket to play psicólogo), I checked to see if it was still there. It was. By evening, it was getting to me, so I did some research. Since they’re nocturnal creatures, I got a bit more worried. It had not moved all day. It was in the exact same place it had been the time before each time I checked. However, upon realizing it would come out at night, I got a tiny bit worried that it might explore the room at dark. When I finally called it a night (I was not the earliest on Sunday!), I got ready for bed and tried my best to ignore the miniature beast on my ceiling. I brushed my teeth and tucked myself away, but I kept imagining a bed visitor in the middle of the night…
I got up, went downstairs and asked if any of the tough guys were in the mood to come kill something. Beto came and took care of it and the small spider at its side.
Phew.

Carne asada y psicólogo

(Cook-out/grill-out/barbecue and psychologist)

Juan, the chef, began preparing the grill.  I'm not sure what all he did, but it was worth it!  We waited for hours it seemed to have our grill out.  Everyone began joking that he was cooking breakfast and we'd just go inside to find dinner.

He fixed the meat with onions, green peppers, and an avocado.  He also made some quesadillas.  I have not been the best about only eating as much as I should, so I was one of the last to get a tortilla and fix my taco.  It was delicious and I let that be it!  I was full, so I stopped.  Wish I could say the same for Culiacán and Tucson, but....

We all sat outside, where it was getting much colder.  At this point, I had seen the Titans' final score.  It took the commentators so long (since the Steelers' score was historic having never ended a game with 10-11 ever in NFL history) to let us in on the details, that I went and looked on the internet.  My "Go Titans, Go Titans" cheer only increased in volume, frequency and energy!  I considered changing into my Titans t, but had to save it for the following day.

I was in shorts and a t-shirt, so I put on a long sleeved shirt and grabbed my trademark blanket.  We all were sitting around, smoking (they), drinking (they- though I had my Coca Light).  They were all asking why I didn't "tomar" and I couldn't really explain my concept of moderation to them.  So I settled with "I prefer wine."  Paloma was all up in arms saying they had been to the store and could've gotten me wine, that they just thought I didn't drink at all.

It was kinda hilarious.  They all felt terrible.

After we had been sitting awhile, Paloma and Chori asked if we wanted to play a game called Psychologist.  I got nervous.  Who wants to play a game called psychologist with a bunch of strangers?!  And in a new language?!  But I took it as a learning opportunity.  

I hesitate to explain the game on here because once I do we can never play, but my story won't be nearly as good if I don't explain it.

So if you want to ever play Psychologist with me, stop here and pick up in about three paragraphs.

So Juan was the chosen one.  He knew most of the people there the best.  (They were all high school friends, but girlfriends added in there, etc.)  So he had to go away while Paloma explained the game to us.  A week or two earlier, he and Chori had played with a group made up of half Germans, half Mexicans and they played in English!

While Juan was away, Paloma told us that he would have an hour to ask us anything he wanted except our names.  We had to answer as truthfully as we could, but as the person to our right.  If we answered incorrectly, that person (or anyone who knew the answer was wrong) could say "metira" (lie) and anyone could swap seats with anyone else.  That meant you were now answering for a new person on your right.  It had great potential to be hilarious, but poor Juan.  I was glad I was not the psychologist.  And every time he asked me a question I got nervous about understanding (I did fine).  It helped that his questions were stupid: 

Do you like the moon? 

Do you know the answer to this game?

Why do you want to throw me into the pool?

He had one hour to figure out what was "wrong" with us (we were speaking for the person to our right) or into the pool he went.

At several points during the game, he was struggling big time, so we helped.  Instead of waiting for a question, we would just give him hints.  Chori was to my left one time and said that he was a girl and spoke perfect English.  There were some more colorful helpful hints, too, which were really funny if you were in on the game.

Paloma and I had several exchanges.  He, as me, would speak in Gringo Spanish and say things like, "I like the Dallas Cowboys" and then I of course, would shout "mentira!"  I would return the favor saying I liked the Titans for him.  He made some comment about Coca Light.  It was a really funny game.  After over an hour, Juan still didn't get it, so we (they) tossed him into the pool.  It was FREEZING just outside the pool.  He took it like a man.  And when he got out, didn't even shiver.  He waited patiently for us to explain the game and then went into the sauna (I did mention before that there was a sauna, right?).  There were about 4 that went into the sauna.  I didn't want to get all hot only to come out and be freezing, so I abstained.  We sat around a few more hours talking about the game and making fun of Juan.  "Es que no entiENdo" (it's just that I don't underSTAND).  I'm really glad we played.  The hour flew by and I learned a lot about the people around me.  I want to play with some of my friends at home.  Maybe at New Years...

***Pictures are taking unusually long to load and I have to go catch the bus from the mall.  Will try again later.

Go Titans, Go Titans!

On Sunday (oddly enough, a week ago today as I sit in Tucson watching the Titans play the Jets), I was the first to rise, as usual.  I did, however, let myself sleep until 10ish.  When I got up, I showered and went downstairs to wait on anyone else that might wake up.  Chori got up shortly after and asked me if I were hungry.  Not wanting to be the high maintenance gringa that had to be waited on, I said no.  I wasn't starving, so no big deal.  I did, however, decide to fend off any chance of hunger by grabbing a Coca Light.  As we were on our way back from the market on Saturday (I did insist on buying the 70 peso kindling), Beto asked me if I wanted anything for the house for breakfast on Sunday or a coke or anything.  I said sure that I'd stop for a Coca Light.  When we stopped, I was left in the car and the boys went in.  Beto came back with three Coca Lights for me, just in case.  I drank one on Saturday night, but there were two left.  I decided to enjoy one of them pre-breakfast.  When I opened the fridge, they were not in there, so I asked Chori's mom if she knew where they were (the fridge was full, so odds were good they had been moved).  She quickly said she hadn't drunk them and had no idea.  I felt terrible since she thought I was accusing her!  Chori starts getting things our for our group brunch and his mom mentions the Coca Light.  I of course was willing to just ignore it.  He asks every person that comes down the steps.  One of the boyfriends told me Paloma was responsible.  Again, willing to let it go.

As breakfast/lunch came together, the guys went outside to set up some tables and chairs on the lawn.  Chori told me to make sure and get to the bottom of the mystery of the Coca Light.  At this point I'm ready to play ignorant.

We all sat down and enjoyed eggs (scrambled and over easy), machaca (an interesting meat that is delicious), tortillas, bacon, and maybe some other meat?

It was beautiful sitting out by the pool, feeling the breeze, enjoying everyone's company.  The truth finally came out about the Coca Light (luckily I took it all in stride because I truly did not want to be annoying.  Apparently around 6ish, the party group (who stayed up until NINE AM!) was out of coke.  PLenty of liquor left, but no coke.  Palome went to the fridge to fix a drink for Paulina (the reason I remember her name and not the other girl) and saw only Coca Light.  He poured it for her.  She drank it unknowingly.  About halfway through she realized it was different (her sense of taste might have been hindered by this hour) and Paloma told her what was up.

We all made jokes about it the rest of the time, so it was fine.  They promised to hook me up when they went to the store (for like the fifth time in 24 hours) to get more stuff for Sunday night.

After breakfast/lunch, some people swam.  It was a bit too chilly for me, so I sat out and searched for the Titans game.  It was nowhere, even though I had a beautiful, very large (no idea the size) flat screen tv to watch it on.  I settled for the Steelers/Thunder game (Maria, the youngest Schwartz one time said while watching the Chargers: "You thunder, my daddy's gonna beat you!" and that was when we were awful).  It was not my favorite thing to watch and they did not show sufficient updates for my taste.  Beto and Paloma watched with me and they gave me Spanish tests.  Paloma wanted the hardest English word and then for me to say the hardest Spanish word.  Beto told him not to play games with me because I'm smart and would win.  He learns fast, eh?  Paloma tried to give me a tongue twister, but I reminded him of the one word rule.  I couldn't come up with a word for him.  Beto commented that my Spanish had been better on Friday night and I explained how it was much easier one on one (not to mention I could take control of most of where the conversation was going) with more gestures and less to pay attention to!

So they trash talked the whole game about the Titans.  The only update we got was when we were down 14 to 3.  They were laughing at me.  I had been semi-asleep until the update, but that was enough to put me on edge!  I told them, though that we were really good at coming back in the fourth quarter.  There were NO MORE UPDATES!  So they kept saying that we had lost.  And I kept cheering sing-song-y, "Go Titans, Go Titans!"  It was kinda hilarious.

The game ended late since it was a late-starting game.

At that point, we all went outside to hang out while Juan, the chef, began to prepare for dinner.

Breakfast/lunch, mountain climbing, and hanging out.

Chori's face of "Are we really gonna do this?!"  I was unaware I was in the shot.

View of where we were going from the path.

The ladder at the last little bit.

View from atop the pyramid.

Me atop the pyramid.

(Another Fulbright teacher, Reed, is blogging as well.  Her blog is more historically, culturally and Spanishally informative.  If you're interested in more about the town of Tepoztlán, she had a great entry.  Click here to read it.)

A sign made completely of beans at the entrance to the market.

The funeral procession from breakfast/lunch.

After Beto and Chori (This is Shania's cousin Ricardo's nickname- it has something to do with talking too much and lying.  On a side note, he called me Lauris a few times, which is what Mabel had called me at the beginning.  To the best of my knowledge, it has no significance.) got up and got ready, we ventured into "town."  The house is sort of on the outskirts, but it's a town much smaller than Glasgow, so that meant a car ride of about five minutes to get to the centro (the majority of the five minutes was due to the bumpy cobblestone streets).  We parked in what looked like a bed and breakfast and walked around until we found the restaurant of choice for the morning (afternoon).  Chori had asked me how hungry I was and if I were interested in a traditionally Mexican breakfast.  My though, as usual, was I'm in Mexico, why wouldn't I want a traditional Mexican breakfast?

We get to the restaurant and go up to the open air patio on top and receive our menus.  Breakfast time has passed, so we must eat lunch.  I'm fine with that.  It is after one o'clock after all.  Chori is starving and orders two horchatas and downs the first one in seconds, guacamole for the table to share, chicken tacos and something else.  Beto must've eaten in the early hours of the morning or else he was on a diet because he only ordered soup.  I got the chicken tacos as well.  They were tacos dorados (the hard crunchy kind that we sometimes call taquitos) which are not always my favorite, but they were good.

While at lunch, I heard a "banda" and saw some people carrying flowers.  It turned out to be a funeral ceremony.  They all walk from the church to cemetery.  The bill came and I didn't have to pay; I did try.

From there, we moseyed through the town streets and saw some vendors (though I didn't buy anything then).  Chori bought a necklace with his astrological sign on it.  They laughed at me because I don't buy into all that stuff.  We were in another "magical town" like Cosalá (the waterfall town I went to in my first month or so) and apparently there are many UFOs, extraterrestrials and spiritual things looming around Tepoztlán.

From the vendors, we just started climbing the path to the top of the mountain.  Chori the genius had forgotten his tennis shoes, so he was in flip flops.  It was a rocky path and I did not envy him!  They had also prepared me for slow and (not so) steady since they're both avid smokers.  I was worried I would need slow and steady for myself after a pyramid the day before, not to mention a month of inactivity.

We climbed in about 45 minutes to an hour I think, which was really fast.  I was overdressed in my 3/4 Polo and jeans, but at least I had tennis shoes.  My shower was a complete waste because I was sweaty and huffing and puffing within fifteen minutes!

The path was windy, rocky, and tricky, but beautiful.  I'm not one to marvel at nature, but this almost demanded it.  After getting to the top of the mountain, Beto took a break (maybe to buy something to eat since all he'd eaten was soup!) and Chori paid for us to enter the pyramid (35 pesos a piece).  We sat on the top of the pyramid for awhile and enjoyed the breeze and view.  We had a nice conversation about Shania and Culiacán, but mostly we sat in silence.  He brought up the extraterrestrials again, and I rolled my eyes.

The descent was obviously much easier.  It was funny, though to see people climbing up and being out of breath.  Coming back down it was easy to forget just how hard it was going the other way.  It was also funny hearing the climbers asking how much longer.  After about halfway up, anytime we (or anyone near us) would ask that question, the response was "ya llegaron" (you're already there!).  Clearly that was an untruth!  But hearing others tell the climbers the lie we had bought was funny.

From the bottom of the mountain, I took a picture of where we had been.  I could not believe how far away the pyramid was!  You can't even see it in the picture!

We walked through the town to the market to pick up meat, tortillas, sides, and kindling for the cookout that would be on Sunday.

As we got to the car, Chori was calling the house to make sure none of his friends had shown up yet.  At lunch, they had talked about some of their friends, but since I hadn't met them yet, I'm not sure if these were the same friends that would be coming and which were which.  But they had a German friend who's been in Mexico long enough that he sounds Mexican (someday, Laura, someday), slang, trash talk and all.  There was another friend I think from Argentina that they talked about, but I'm not sure what they said.

We got back to the house around 6ish I suppose and Chori's mom, dad and little brother were there.  I met the mom, who is Shania's aunt and I can see the resemblance.  We scrounged around and found some rice, meat, tortillas, etc and ate up.  Around 8:30 or 9 I guess, a carful of friends showed up.  Paloma (which means dove and is a girl's name but he is a boy), la Bruja (the witch, Hilde, or the like), Ariana, and Juan (possibly brother and sister?).  They came in, did the kiss/shake&hug greeting (this still baffles me- I love it, but it's so different from US culture), and sat down to get started on the beverages and smokes.  Since it was nighttime, it was growing very cold.  I was not mentally (or clothingally) prepared for that, so I spent the majority of the weekend shivering and wrapped up in a blanket.

The next few hours were fun; I mostly listened.  Once the conversation turned to me, I could participate in Q&A format.  Jumping into the middle of a group conversations with a bunch of strangers in a second language is rather difficult and I don't think my fluency is quite there yet.  Closer to 2am, another carload of folks showed up.  I know there was a Paulina, her boyfriend, his brother and his wife, but that's about as specific I get with them (come on, it was 2am!).  Chori got a phone call saying Nacho was on his way.  Nacho had taken a bus from DF because he had to go back early Sunday morning to work (not sure what his job is) and everyone else was staying until Monday.

After he hung up with Nacho, Paloma (I think) told me to tell Nacho I was from Chihuahua (another state in Mexico) when he asked.  I assured them he wouldn't believe me.  They said not to say I was from the US.  I got a bit nervous when they said that.  But then they asked me if the term "Gringo" offended me.  I said no, so they said I should be okay.  I was fully prepared to be made fun of all night (and possibly to get offended at something at some point!).

Nacho got there and I continued my listen-without-speaking format.  When I began speaking, it was obvious (duh) that I was a foreigner.  There were some repetitions of the things I would say, which annoyed me a bit, but Chori told them that that bothered me and to stop.  Then they started with their English.  Paloma and his car had come late Saturday instead of Friday or early Saturday morning because he has English classes on Saturday mornings.  He wanted to know how to ask a girl out in English.  I can't remember his initial suggestion, but it was hilarious: broken English meets terrible pick up line.  Nacho gave him suggestions ("You're pretty") which I cut down pretty fast.  Then he wanted to compliment a girl, so I taught them "You have beautiful eyes."  Unfortunately, with his pronunciation, this came out more like, "You habe beauteeful ass."  I suggested changing eyes to smile.  But then I explained how that wouldn't really work.  At least not in Nashville.  Chori tried to explain how different the culture is, in all aspects, but especially in the guy/gal arena.  Nacho (who knew quite a bit of English and I think must've lived in several places in the US) said that those lines would work fine.  So I revised my statement and said I was doubtful that it would work in the south and I was certain it wouldn't work with me.

We got into some football talk (fútbol americano, not soccer) and I got to participate!  By about 4:30, I was as done as could be.  I had tried and tried to keep my eyes open, but it wasn't working.  I was wanting to improve my listening and speaking (which is exponentially harder when I'm tired), but I was also wanting to be a human being when I got up on Sunday...

I was the first to bed.  And not ashamed!

Juan much more awake than I.  This was about 3am.  I made it another hour and a half!

Paloma and Nacho (who is acting shy for the camera-don't be fooled)

Chori/Ricardo

Nacho, Juan, Ariana

The husband and wife (not Paulina- no idea names)

*** Unfortunately, I didn't get my camera out from hibernation much on this trip.  I took it climbing, but the rest of my pictures are borrowed.***

Laura, meet Beto...and Mexico City

After a great few days with Fulbrighters, I was beginning to rethink my decision to ask Shania to put me in contact with her cousin.  What would I do with a strange Mexican guy for three days?!  Would it be awkward, weird, boring, annoying, strange, etc?

I placed the call as soon as we got back (I had intended on doing it on the way there so he could be making plans to make his way my way since the city is so big, but I left my phone in my suitcase in Jessica's room) and Ricardo informed me in typical Mexican style that he had a wedding that night.  Had he not known anytime in the past month that he had a wedding the night I'd be in town?  He asked me what I'd prefer to do: go with Kate and the rest of the Fulbright crew and he'd come get me there after the wedding or go hang out a one of his friends' houses?  I wasn't sure I (or Kate) could get him to her house, so I told him I'd just hang with his friends.  

Since it was a puente (long weekend, literal translation: bridge), all of the city would be leaving town, so it would be better for us to leave around midnight anyway.  Cool.

I sat down with Shawna and we chatted.  She has a friend from Spain that teaches at Vanderbilt, so she's in Nashville quite a bit.  She was waiting on her friend to come pick her up as well.

Ricardo called me about an hour later (6ish) and he was outside.

I moseyed out with my two rolling suitcases and backpack.  I had definitely overpacked for 5.5 days, but I wasn't sure of the weather, I didn't know if I needed a bath towel (and pillow, which is a necessity), and I wanted to have space for flying back any purchases.  

I thought that was a great plan until I felt like a complete dweeb loading Ricardo's tiny trunk with my two giant suitcases.

Oh well.

As I roll my extra large-ness across the street, I start explaining my high maintenance-ness immediately.  I tell about my books, not knowing the weather.  They're not buying it.  Too late now!

Ricardo asks me if I understood him on the phone about the wedding situation.  He introduces me to Hilde (or something similar) and Beto.  Hilde is dressed for the wedding.  Beto is my tour guide for the night, but not to worry, he knows Shania, too.  He will be taking care of me until we leave at midnight.  Cool.

Off we go on foot throughout Mexico City.  

Mind you I've climbed ruins this day as well as not gotten much sleep since my travels on Tuesday.  I'm up for walking, though, as I have not seen much of the city.  We saw as much as we could, and I asked as many questions as I could.  Three or four times between 6:30 and 11 we got phone calls from Ricardo.  I assumed he was finished earlier than usual.  Think again.  We saw a concert (kinda punk-ish) in a plaza, enjoyed some decorations for the upcoming Revolution holiday, and went to three bars.  By 12:45, I was miserable and falling asleep, but had spent no money (a sign of success in my book).  Finally at 1:30, Ricardo met us at our last location and we got on our way.  

He asked me if I'd enjoyed the city, which I had (until about 11pm).  He then asked me what kind of music I liked and tried to please with some Kanye West songs.  They gave me permission to sleep.  As if I needed permission.

:)

I was out within about three minutes.  The windows were down and they were smoking.  I was chilly, but tired enough that it didn't even matter.

Around 3:15, we were bumping along the cobble stone roads of Tepoztlán.  They asked me how I had slept and I told them I was content.  We got to the house where Ricardo carried my suitcase (just the one, I had at least packed with enough preparation to just need one for the weekend) upstairs to my bedroom.  So far, no expenses, my backpack had been carried all over DF and Ricardo had carried my suitcase.  Machismo or chivalry?  At this point I was thankful.  No time for Miss Independent when I'm thoroughly exhausted.

I got my face washed, teeth brushed, and clothes changed.  I grabbed an extra blanket out of the armoire and turned the fan on.  Life was good and I was ready for bed.  Ricardo told me that they would be downstairs if I needed them.  I had no plans of needing anyone or anything for at least 6 more hours.

I slept soundly until about 10.  I heard what sounded like ocean waves and was confused since I thought we were inland.  I poked my head outside to see that it was an extra-windy day and I was hearing the trees blow in the wind.  I was AMAZED at the mountains, the pool, and the view in general.  I got up and tip-toed to take my shower, read some of my book, took some pictures, watched a bit of tv, and waited for the boys until 12:30.

Ricardo woke up, asked me how long I'd been up, and was I hungry.  Was I hungry?!  They had stayed up until about 6, drinking, smoking, talking.  You think those hours are bad...wait for the rest of the weekend!

Ruins, ruins, and more ruins.

***I'm going to go ahead and apologize that the pictures are SCREWED up in this entry.  I have tried to fix them, but I figure even if they're off center and weird, at least they're there!

After we left the tequila outlet, we journeyed on to the ruins.  Comexus paid our entry, but teachers got in free (or at least reduced...we're a week out here; memory is not serving so well, not to mention Turner is jumping around singing Winnie the Pooh songs as I type) with an appropriate ID.  I, of course, don't even have an appropriate ID in the US.  Jen, though, had asked for an official ID from her school in Jilotepec (population: 4) and got one, so she got a free or reduced entry, saving Comexus a few bucks.We left the van in the parking lot and took our tour with our guide (I have already forgotten her name, shame on me!).  We walked through several layers of the ruins and came out in the middle, seeing the pyramid of the sun and the pyramid of the moon.  We had about an hour and could do both if we wanted, but I figured just hit the big one.

Off we went.  It was tough, I'll admit.  It didn't seem all that huge to me.  Then I started climbing.

It was refreshing, though to do actual physical activity since it had been so long (last yoga class was before Cozumel in October)!  We took our pictures, hung out with the breeze and the good aura, and then made our way to lunch at La Gruta.  It was in a cave and it was a fantastic meal.  

We were given two options: plato mexicano or plato something else.  

We all chose the plato mexicano except for the vegetarians in the house who chose enchiladas or something else.  The food was delicious as usual and filling.  And then they came out with the flan.  We had had flan at every get together so when they offered up chocolate cake to those who weren't interested in flan, five hands went up.  They were overwhelmed, but let us know that there were only three pieces.  We dealt with it and said we'd share.  

They came out with what seemed like molten lava cake with a raspberry sauce (I was in heaven and thankful to have to share it since I was full).  The flan came to the table and was of a cheesecake texture.  I was almost regretful that I had passed it up, but decided to be grateful for my chocolate fix.

From there, we bused back to Casa González and all got our stuff in order.  

Almost everyone was headed to Kate's house for the weekend.  Shawna was hanging at Chez González until her friend (who used to live in Phoenix who was now in DF) came to pick her up and I was waiting for Shania's cousin Ricardo to come pick me up.  More on that in the next...