The big day- or not.

Friday was unfortunately another miserably rainy day.  Again I made it out (though I got seriously splashed by the cars this time) during a pause from the downpour for my meals, but other than that, I was in the hotel reading a James Patterson book.  I finished it.  Another thing to leave out of the suitcase!

There are several neighborhoods of interest in Guadalajara and of course there's the tequila tasting, but I just wasn't feeling it.  Rain has a way of doing that to me.  This was the same thing that happened to me in Barcelona.  Everyone- every single person you will ever run across- raves about Barcelona.  I liked it, don't get me wrong, but I was wet the whole weekend.  And peeved about it.  I think Barcelona has much more to offer than Guadalajara, but I lump them in the same category: places I could've liked more had I not been thinking "don't get me wet!"

Oh, well.  I now feel like I never have to plan a trip there.

I had a terrible night's sleep the night before due to a band in the lobby, a street front room, and no fan or a/c to make noise.  I reverted to iPod therapy.  It had worked.  More or less.

Because of this, I was actually pretty okay with reading, packing, etc instead of traipsing all over a city in the rain to see another church and another plaza.  Unfortunately, this attitude (and the rain and precaution I take with my fancy camera) left me with no pictures from Guadalajara besides the food.

Donas

After I had read and relaxed some, I resigned to the rain and took a shower ready to call it a night.  However, there was a moment it let up again!  I seized the opportunity and went in search of a donut (dona) place I had seen while torta ahogada hunting. I found it!  It was a tiny little baggie of miniature donuts.  They're chewier here and less gritty when you bite into them.  Yum!  I topped it off with a scoop of chocolate ice cream.  I actually got it with the intent of throwing it out because Mexican ice cream (the creamy kind, not the fruit flavors) tends to be dry tasting.  I know no other way to explain it than that.  I was pleasantly surprised.  It was delicious and even had some ice flecks in it.  Unfortunately I finished it.  And the baggie of donuts.  However, in a matter of weeks, I'll be back to my salads and veggies world with only the occasion dessert.  You only live once!  I sat on a wet park bench enjoying my sugar overload and took in the people that didn't seem to mind getting wet as much as I do!  Then I called it a night.

Tortas Ahogadas

Fortunately, it stopped raining for about an hour and a half.  Enough time for me to walk around in search of food and to get a lay of the land.  Guadalajara is known for sandwiches called tortas ahogadas (literally drowned sandwiches).  This is what Liliana's aunt had us searching all over Guadalajara for on the way to Manzanillo for Spring Break.  In the end, her favorite place had been closed and we ate tacos.

I saw several places, but got turned around and settled on the next one I found.

I ordered my torta ahogada and horchata but it was pink!  I hope that doesn't mean it had strawberry Quick in it!

I must admit I was disappointed.  I had had a torta ahogada in Culiacán and it was much better.  This one seemed to want to challenge you with its spiciness.  The horchata was pretty incredible though!  I headed back to the hotel to make a plan, but it began raining again, so I curled up with a book for a bit.

4 hours

I didn't have as much trouble sleeping on the way back to Guadalajara.  I read some, ate their white bread pre-packaged ham and cheese sandwich (bleh!  but no time for anything else) and chugged the juice.  Before I knew it, I was in gloomy Guadalajara.

After I got off the bus, I got a coca light and some principe cookies to wake me up.  I sat down for a minute and called the two hotels for which I had numbers.  One was full.  The other one had space.  Off I went in a taxi.  The taxi driver was interested in why I was there, why I'd been in Culiacán of all places, etc, like almost all Mexicans upon realizing I'm a gringa, but a gringa with a better accent than most gringos.  The ride from the bus station to the hotel was at least twice the time as the ride from the hotel to the us station, but it was half the price.  Official taxis are such a rip off!

I got to the hotel, got myself organized and looked out the window in time to see lots of rain.  Awesome.  It was already 4:30, so I wasn't going to get a lot of site seeing done anyway.  Besides, I had all of Friday.  No worries.  I made my plan to leave for dinner, maybe get some pictures and get in bed early for all day Friday.

One final summit

I had given Donna permission to wake me at 730 so we could climb up to the Pípila one more time and take a walk/jog.  When I woke up and was super dizzy from exhaustion, I should've rethought my decision.  But alas, we went.  It felt good to be pushed to get to the top.  Then we ended up just walking.  I wasn't in the running mood.  There was still a gradual climb on the road.  

About an hour later, we were back at the apartment.  I went to get money out of the bank and too a few pictures on the way.  This is of Cervantes.  There is a Cervantes festival every fall in Guanajuato.  That was one of those things I was so jealous of my Fulbright colleagues about.  Many of them went because they were so close.  I would've had to have missed school (I know we think that wouldn't have been a problem, but I missed a lot!) and at that time I wasn't aware how easy it was to piece together a flight plus a bus trip.  As a side note, when Shania flew to Chicago with Fulbright, her sister and cousin stayed behind until it was time to get to Michigan so she wouldn't be stuck with the flights to and from DC and housing.  For that same reason, Yuri's husband didn't arrive in Nashville until we were back there.  Anyway, Shania found much cheaper flights for her sister and cousin to Indiana, where Beatriz was, so she bought those tickets for them, thinking they'd just hop in a taxi to the bus station and get a bus to Michigan.  
This singing man is something Guanajuato is known for.  They have an official name, but my Culichi friends all asked me if I'd been callejoneando- alleying.  You pay for a ticket to follow these musicians through the town.  They stop several times, inspiring the group to dance and then telling jokes and stories.  When Donna and I had gone shopping on Tuesday night, we caught the tail end of one of the groups and decided that was enough.  In the old days, it wasn't a tourist event, it was just what happened in the town.  There was wine and music.  Now there's Tang and a ticket.

After the pictures, I decided to get one more massage (this one just legs since I'd been walking on inclines for three days).  It hit the spot.  I went back, got my shower, and left the house at 11 in search of a taxi.  I figured I'd miss the 11:30 bus, but went in hopes anyway.  There was another at 12:30 if I did happen to miss it.  As luck would have it, I made it.  I must've been quite the spectacle with my rolling suitcase, packed backpack, J-Lo hat, pillow, purse, and plastic bag with my pottery!  Tourist!  Coming through!

Schooling and going out

After dinner (that included lots of broccoli and I was SO thankful!), Donna and I had planned on going out for a drink, but before we went, Alina had to put on a show for us.  You gotta give only children their creativity points!  

I had heard from Iván and he ended up telling me that a friend of his owned a bar very near the Theater close to the apartment.  I was hoping that connection would lead to a free drink, but it didn't...

But I met the guy, gave him Iván's best, and Donna and I had a great conversation.  I can't get into the details, but it was good.

We got back before midnight to talk to Tim about what we'd discussed.  They went to bed and I started the attempt to fit almost everything in its appropriate place.  Ha!  I didn't get to bed until about 2 am.  Since it was raining, I closed the window.  That was the answer to the problems.  I slept like a baby.  (Might have helped that I had a week of exhaustion built up!)

Touring with the Tourmaster

Tim is a travel writer (which I think is just a super cool job!).  Touring with him, though, isn't an experience.  I don't mean that in a good way or in a bad way.  It's a neutral statement.  I guess I somewhat expected to hear him rattle off facts of the city.  Or drone on Bill Stein-like about who knows what.  But it was just like being with anyone else.

We headed to the bus stop and took the city bus up to the Mummy Museum.  That's right.  There's a museum in Guanajuato chock full of bodies they exhumed from a church in the early 1900s I think.  Because of the location they were buried, their bodies were preserved far better than anyone had planned.  You'll see.  Legend has it that if a family couldn't keep paying the plot fee, the body was exhumed to make room for a paying customer.  Awesome.

We got off the bus and made our way up yet another hill.  We had to stop to enjoy the view.  Unfortunately, it was overcast, so this picture doesn't do it justice (though no picture in teh best of conditions does this place justice).

We paid our 50 pesos, highway robbery for a museum in Guanajuato (Diego's house was 15 pesos I think- but also a let down).

It was interesting, different, and dare I say it, WEIRD.
One of many along a wall of mummies.
Alina and I do our best mummy pose for the yearbook.
This was the worst one for me.  She was buried alive, likely on accident.  That's preserved dead skin you're looking at.
This one was a close second.  Or maybe a tie.  A mother and her fetus.
Here was attempt two at a yearbook picture.  We'll see if we make the cut!
I had to document this guy sticking out his tongue.
When we left, it was much brighter, and I got some shots I wanted.  Isn't it just a charming little town?
Unfortunately, this is the only picture of Tim I have.  
After we took in the view again, we boarded the city bus back to the mercado and sat down for some lunch.  I should've had the local dish of enchiladas mineras miners' enchiladas, but Donna had convinced me that they were your typical enchiladas.  I asked the woman if the mole was good or if something else would be better.  She gave me a taste of the mole and I was sold.

As I was finishing, she asked me if I liked beans.  I said yes and she served me some!  No charge.

We headed back to the house and I decided to go for a massage.  Donna had shown me a pamphlet of a place close to the apartment.  I decided on a 30 minute shiatsu and a 30 minute facial.  400 pesos later (total) I was relaxed and exfoliated.  That was my first massage and facial experience.  I could get used to it.  I was cracking up that even the receptionist spoke softly.

I made my way back to the house for a shower and some reading and board games before dinner a la Donna.

Shopping

Tim got home and we promptly left him with Alina to go check out a store.  Donna wanted an opinion on some pants, and while she was the reason we went, she ended up empty handed, and I had a new wide-brim hat (so cute!) and skirt (ditto!).  But when you're payin' in pesos, it's not such a headache when you're the only one buying.  Oh that's not true.  I forgot she ended up with a skirt, too.

We got some munchies and headed back to the house.

Francesca

So Alina made friends with a spoiled little brat from California named Francesca.  That's probably not fair; I knew her all of two days.  But I heard stories. 

You'll recall that I said Alina was running out of books to read.  And that we had played some board games.  Well, Francesca from California was only in Guanajuato for three weeks, but brought not one single book.  She had not one single game.  That is unless you count the Wii and Nintendo DS.  So her face was glued to a screen when she wasn't in language school.

Now I'm not a parent.  I'm just a teacher.  And I'm guessing that if I ever have kids, I will fall victim to the tv, the electronic games, etc.  All those things I loathe because I see what kinds of students it makes I'm sure I'll fall back on.  However, three weeks in a foreign country with lots to do seems a little much to bring a Wii for goodness sake!

To the real story.  After my site-seeing on Tuesday (and book buying), I got home and Donna said that Francesca's mom had called and her husband was fixing ceviche if we wanted to come over.  He's a famous chef, or at least very successful.  We said yes.

Interestingly enough, here I was about to eat seafood after I had completely banished the thought for lunch.

The ceviche Isak had fixed was made with squid.  And because of the hour (1am Thurs morning), I'm having a hard time remembering the pretty word for that.

Anyway, I ate enough in Spain to do me for a lifetime, but I was hungry enough to try this famous stuff.

One had an asian flavor with some soy sauce.  It was good.
The other had mango.  It was pretty much divine.  I had to stop when Isak went on and on about how he left it so raw that most people wouldn't eat it.  

That's not all he said.  By the end of the night, I was pretty much sick of hearing him talk about himself.  He made "the best guacamole you'll ever taste" because he layered the lime juice and olive oil and I don't even remember what else.  I disagreed because I've grown to like my guac a little bit stirred instead of straight avocado chunks, but whatever dude.  They pay you the big bucks to please the crowds (he told me on more then one occasion).

My goodness I was glad when we had to get back so Donna could feed Alina and so we would be in the house when Tim got in!

After I left, I semi regretted not getting his last name or contact in case I'm in California.  It seems he's pretty wealthy and powerful.  They were staying at this house for three weeks (he just came for the last one, naturally) for free because some business associate owed him a ridiculous amount of money.  They were going to be using the Guanajuato house for the next ten years.  Interesting.

Also, along the lines of last names.  He dissected Klapheke.  I wish I could remember what he said it had to be.  Had to be.  Please.  And then I explained that Mom had gone from the only Klapheke in the phone book to the only Ambach.  He proceeded to tell me that we were Welsh.  Every Berry is Welsh.  He didn't even touch Ambach.

I was so irritated.  I don't do well with people whose accomplishments and coolness speak for themselves, but who completely shatter both of those things by dousing you with that information with their own mouths.  Ugh!

Donna was more than in agreement.  "I had predicted he would be completely full of himself!"

She was right.  I was glad to be back in the East Nashville hood of Guanajuato.

Tuesday's Tourism

I didn't start the Monday blog properly.  I should've mentioned that it was the worst sleep I've gotten since arriving in Mexico.  Since it's an incredible climate, windows are open day and night.  That meant I heard every dog (and there were lots) bark (a lot) all night long.  All.  Night.  Long.  I finally put in my iPod, which would do its trick until it would finish the album and stop.  Then I would hear more dogs.  Surely they couldn't be the same ones...  And then there were the church bells.  They went off starting at 7 am (which was 6 am Culiacán time).  All this on top of getting in bed at 4 and up at 7 before traveling all day....

So now it's Tuesday.  I got up around 9 after repositioning my earbuds and starting about 6 new albums throughout the night.  

Tuesday was the day set aside for a museum Alina and Donna had not yet visited.  It was in the Alóndiga.  It used to store grain and was a beautiful building that would've been great for a wedding or some special event.  It had a huge patio in the middle that opened up to the sky.  

This is one of those times you wish I'd taken notes or that I would google, but I'm too busy trying to remember other things!  This building held the severed heads of 4 very important Mexicans(Spaniards?) during the... Revolution(?).  They were hung in the above cages from the four corners of this building as a symbol and warning to everyone else!

We were under the impression that inside was an art museum.  We were wrong.  The only art that was there were two murals by a man who was attempting (pretty successfully in my book) to imitate Diego Rivera's style from the Castle in Chapultepec.  The rest of the museum was way too boring for this girl.  Stamps and pots and such.  Luckily, it was easily managed in less than an hour!

After that, we stopped by an English used book store, Donkey Jote, to trade in some of Donna's books and to look for some new ones for Alina.  They're in Mexico for two months total.  They brought a Harry Potter book as well as like 6 other chapter books and Alina was on her last one by week 5.  They were getting desperate!  So they made some trades.  

After that, they showed me my way and I went to the Diego Rivera house while they headed back home.  I was sorely disappointed.  Mostly I think because the stuff in DF is so cool.  But this was the house where he was born.  That's something.  (They wouldn't allow pictures on the inside).  

After that, I went back to the used book store, knowing I would have a few more days on the beach (I'm treating myself to two more days in Mazatlán after Alma leaves) and workless days to fill.  I hit the jackpot.  James Patterson, Michael Connelly, The Other Boleyn Girl, The Devil Wears Prada.  Four hundred pesos later, I was set!

I took my bag full of books and headed back to the café from the night before.  I wanted that salad again.  But then I saw it.  I had been on the search for a girl t-shirt (you know, the fitted kind instead of just a big boxy shirt) from Guadalajara.  Unfortunately, I couldn't ever find the one I liked in the color and size I wanted.  Oh, well.  Next visit!  But what I did find was more pottery!  It wasn't Talavera, which must be made in the state of Puebla I think, and has regulations on what colors it can be.  But it was beautiful and super cheap, so I picked up a piece or two.

Then I made it to the café, stopping for a picture of the University, below.  Isn't it pretty?  I sat on the bridge at the café that crosses above a pedestrian street.  I ordered my salad and agua de fresa and pulled out The Devil Wears Prada.  I spent at least an hour there in the gorgeous weather with delicious food and just enjoyed my time.