When times are tough... keep running and keep your head up!

This year has been, so far, like my first year of teaching all over again; learning new rules, new ways of doing things, different ways of teaching, teaching a different language, etc, etc. And, like my first year of teaching, I have been trying to do what I thought was the right thing, modeling my behavior from what I see and observe. But, after teaching for 7 years one thing I have learned is that to be an effective teacher, you really need to just be yourself.

My first 2 months here were mostly filled with “the highs” and I hadn’t had too many lows. Well, as the lows started coming, I was finding myself battling negative thoughts, homesickness, and frustration. Now, this isn’t a daily thing, but I do think that the “honeymoon period” is over, and reality has set it. I was at a bit of a loss on how to battle this; what do I do to make sure I don’t fall into some pit of Mexican despair where I just sit around and eat enchiladas all day and watch telenovelas? I don't have the group of American Buddies I had when I lived in Spain so I'm going through this alone. I do have a few Fulbrighters close by, but its different. We're teaching in different schools and we don't get to see each other that often.

On one particularly bad day, I got home and was angry. With whom? Why? What happened? A series of rather unpleasant events, yes, like hearing the thud of a man’s head as the metro struck him as it approached. He seemed ok (a little dazed!) and was bleeding down his face, but I think he was alright. I had noticed that people stand ridiculously close to the trains as they approach, like if they don’t get as close as possible they’re not going to get on that train. It was a little scary and gave me that awful feeling in your stomach like after you see a car accident or something. I just couldn’t shake that feeling once I got home.

That, and other things that were bothering me, sent me spiraling down. I got home and told myself, “I need to do something about this.” I was feeling so bad, so negative, that I didn’t know what to do, and I didn’t like it. I knew I needed to go for a run and get out of my apartment, but it was hard. Enchiladas and telenovelas were calling me… but, I strapped on the Asics and headed to my new favorite place to run, a one-kilometer loop in the greater Chapultepec Park that circles the Gandhi statue. I told myself as I approached that I was going to run more than I had since I’d gotten here, that I’ve been building up and finally feeling ok when I run, and that I needed to control SOMETHING, achieve SOMETHING. After only having run 5 kilometers at the most, I set out to run 8 kilometers (close to 5 miles). With every step I started to feel better, and as I completed the last lap (which I later figured out was 9, not 8, my math skills haven’t improved in Mexico, obviously!), my negative feelings where gone.

I came to Mexico for many reasons, but pursuing my “career” as an athlete was something that I had accepted as being ok on the backburner for a year. Yes, I walk to school 3 days a week (about an hour each way) and yes, I do my yoga, but I hadn’t really been as active as I’m used to being. I had been running occasionally, but I think I was trying too hard to be someone who I’m not. I really need to remember that, even though I’m living in a foreign country, I am still ME. I like to eat apples with peanut butter, I like Starbucks, and I am an athlete.

I joined a volleyball team (more about that later) and I’ve decided that I need to run more. Signing up for the 10k in Monterrey was a great idea and it was so fun! While I was running, I thought, “Why do I do this? There’s no one waiting for me at the finish line, there’s no prize for me, so why?” As I came down the stretch to cross the finish, I knew why. It’s so much of who I am, why I do what I do. Why do I teach when there isn’t much hope of making a lot of money, nor a lot of praise? Well, when you cross that finish line, that feeling of ACHIEVING something…. that’s it. I think I’m finally remembering who I am. I teach because I feel like I can achieve something with my hard work, and I don’t always get a prize or a thank you. I run because of the way it makes me feel and because I know I’ve accomplished a goal. I don’t win and ya’ll know I’m not fast. It’s not always about what you’re going to get back, rather what you put into it. The rewards you get are that feeling of, wow, look what I can do. In my toughest of moments I hope I can remember this.

Oh, yeah, and the endorphins are great, too. J

Guanajuato and Día de los muertos

I think I'm finally becoming more Mexican. That's what someone told me, anyway, when I announced on Wednesday I wanted to go to Guanajuato on Friday. Mexicans are better at being spontaneous and not planning everything out. While I have been somewhat spontaneous in the past, I tend to lean toward the "let's have a plan" attitude. I think I can get used to spontaneity here.

I called Sharon and she was in. I had trouble booking a hotel because it was the last weekend of The Cervantino (a huge festival that takes place in October in Guanajuato) and a puente weekend (meaning Monday was a holiday). I got back on my favorite bus, ETN, and was in Guanajuato in 5 hours.

Sharon wasn't going to be meeting up with me until Saturday morning, so Friday I took to the town by myself. Thankful that my hotel was very close to downtown (after Expedia booked me into a hotel that was overbooked, that hotel helped me find this hotel, which was closer and included breakfast and lunch everyday. Nice.), I set out to explore. I couldn't believe how many people were there! And, it was only Friday... what would tomorrow be like, I wondered. I saw street performances, ate the Mexican version of corn on the cob (with crema, cheese and chile, yum!), and marveled at the small alleys and streets. I saw the Alley of the Kiss (Callejón del Beso) but wasn't in the mood to kiss a stranger, so I didn't hang out there for too long. Legend says you're supposed to kiss your boyfriend/girlfriend/lover/husband/wife, whoever, there and if you don't kiss anyone, it's bad luck. Ah, well, I don't consider myself lucky with love anyway, so I took my chances and didn't try to lock lips with anyone.

The next morning I woke up early to go to the Mummy Museum before Sharon and Alice arrived. They had already been and highly recommended it to me (as did several others). When I got there I remembered that I'm not a fan of dead things and Death gives me a stomach ache. The mummies where pretty amazing (see picture) and I couldn't believe they were that well preserved. But, my imagination got the better of me... I saw these mummies as people, the skin that covered their bones, their teeth, the hair... it was almost too much. The small children brought tears to my eyes. Who cries at a mummy museum? Yeah, that would be me. I realized that Mexico is probably good for me in several ways, one of them their attitude toward death. I mean, they CELEBRATE Day of the Dead, and they actually use that word, celebrar. It's not that they don't have a tough time when people die, but I'm thinking they might have a healthier relationship with Death. I, on the other hand, do not. Another thing for me to work on while I'm here.

When Sharon and Alice arrived, we set out to see Guanajuato. We walked all around, admired the marigolds and flowers in the market for Day of the Dead, bought souvenirs at El Mercado Hidalgo, ate Pan de muertos with café de olla (YUM!) at our favorite spot, La Purísima, and walked around more and more. The amount of people in the streets was a little overwhelming so we retired to the room in the afternoon to close our eyes. After our rest we returned to the city, saw the university, marveled at the crowds yet again, ate dinner, then returned to sleep.

The next day we had specific goals. We wanted to see Diego Rivera's house from when he was a small child (he moved to Mexico City when he was 5 or 6, I think), see a Day of the Dead altar somewhere, and go to the Pipila statue that overlooks the town. When we got to Diego's house I was super excited that there was a altar there. 2 in 1! The house was pretty neat and had several of his paintings there. I didn't know he dappled with cubism but, being the master artist that he was, I guess he figured he could experiment with all types of art movements. I was very impressed with his cubist works, I must admit.

After Diego's house we walked to the funicular that took us up the steep cliff to the Pipila statue. The view from there was amazing. We sat and enjoyed the breeze and the view before walking down the steep pathway back down to the city. We were pretty exhausted from our day of walking around so we got some movies to watch in our hotel room that evening. Yes, I admit that I bought pirated movies... but, I learned my lesson. One of them was actually a recording of someone in a movie theater and you could hear people laughing in the background. Learned my lesson! We were able to watch Nacho Libre, though. Love that movie and I must admit, after living here for only 3 months, there are details and things about that movie that I get now that I didn't before. As horrible it is about making fun of Mexico, it's hilarious. Gotta love Jack Black.

The next day we walked around a little before our departure to our respective cities, Sharon and Alice back to Leon and me back to DF. We played a little hide-and-seek in the park to work off our breakfast of chilaquiles and got some tortas for the bus. At 1:30 I boarded the bus (legs fully extended, see picture), equipped and ready for my 5 hour trek back with an episode of Grey's Anatomy and The Office downloaded on my computer.

Monterrey

At our training in Washington D.C. in August we were told about a huge conference that was going to be taking place in October called MEXTESOL . Me, being the Super Nerd (noña) that I am, was eager to join hundreds of other teachers for a weekend of learning, workshops, and rejuvenation. Living my life "inside out" (I'm a Spanish teacher in the U.S. yet an English teacher in Mexico) as I like to call it, it's nice to meet people who live here and do what I do.

I flew with Jessica, our Comexus godess, and several others from either Comexus or IIE (Institute of International Education). We got to the convention center and helped them set up their stands where they would be displaying their Comexus, IIE, and U.S. Embassy literature.

The next day the conference began and it was CRAZY. Definitely the largest conference I've ever been to. I spent about an hour in line for registration alone. I attended a few sessions and hung out at the stand with the Comexus/IIE/Embassy folks. I really enjoyed getting to know the IIE and Embassy people. In addition to being very helpful, they were hilarious. They tried teaching me some local slang but I don't remember much. Guess I need more practice with that.

The thing that I love about conferences is that it reminds you of why you do what you do. Sometimes we get so caught up in our jobs, in the stuff that's all wrong, in the problems, etc, that we lose sight of our STUDENTS. It's them we're trying to teach, not some system that's failing, not paying us enough, and treating us like robots (exhale Gretchen...). I was introduced to several individuals who have pursued higher learning in fields that inspire me, wrote down several books that I want to read about teaching strategies, and smiled remembering that I do love teaching... it's easy to forget that sometimes.

On Friday night Comexus hosted a cocktail party for the teachers that were Fulbright alumni. Toward the end of the evening we all stood in a large circle, introduced ourselves, talked about what Fulbright program we did, etc. By the time the circle introductions ended, I was very touched by this group. The majority of them had participated in a summer program in Texas, one did a teaching exchange in Montana for a year, and another was about to leave for New York for the year. Hearing this grateful group of Mexican teachers talk about their experiences reminded me of why I'm here. They did what I'm doing and are back in their home countries, teaching about what they learned during their U.S. experience. For me, that part is so far away I forget about it. I'm here for many reasons, but the eventual return to the U.S. to share my experiences with my students and colleagues is a huge part of this. I'm thankful they helped me remember that.

When we weren't participating in the MEXTESOL fun, we got out of the hotel/conference center to enjoy our meals in the city. Everyone kept telling me I needed to eat "cabrito". Ok, sure. I'm not a vegetarian so eating meat isn't a problem, even goat (yes, even goat, even though I had them as pets when I was a kid.... just don't think about it and you're ok). We went to El Rey Del Cabrito for our goat meal. I mean, if you're going to eat goat, might as well go to The King of the Baby Goat, huh? The meat was ok, good, but not the best thing in the world. The part that was most horrifying for me was the translations on the menu. Isn't it funny that the same word or phrase can have such a stronger mean in one language or the other? I mean, say cabrito, and it's not that bad, say baby goat and, well, yeah, that's a little hard to swallow (no pun intended...  ok, it was intended). The menu had things like Baby Goat Head, Baby Goat Blood,... yikes. Yeah, maybe just don't translate it. It's so much better in Spanish. (The picture of Jessica and me outside of El Rey shows the cabritos all sprawled out... yikes to that, too).

In addition to attending the conference I also managed to squeeze in a 10k run. The Nike Human Race is a race that takes place in several cities all over the world on the same day. I was lucky that it was in Monterrey the weekend I was there. I joined the other 1000's of people, all with our red running shirts on, for the 10k race around Monterrey. While I was stretching I met several people that work at the U.S. Consulate in Monterrey.  :) The race was really fun and it reminded me how much fun running is. Even in a country where running isn't as popular as it is at home, I was able to find comfort that I had something in common with all of these people. We were all crazy enough to get up on the cold, drizzly morning to go for a run.

Morelia

As much as I love Mexico City, I love leaving it, too. Sharing a city with millions of other people is fun and exciting, but I think it gets to me sometimes. I'm thankful for the travel opportunities that I've had to keep me sane. During the weekend of the 9th-11th of October, I met up with 2 fellow Fulbrighers, Tim and Sharon, and Sharon's 8 year-old daughter, Alice. I had always heard great things about Morelia and was excited to see this charming little town.

My original intention was to see the International Film Festival in Morelia, however, once we got there, that became secondary. Tim and I hung out the first night and he was expecting the energetic, let's-party-Gretchen, but she wasn't there. I'm-so-tired-I-just-want-to-relax-Gretchen was there instead. We walked around, saw the cathedral lit up at night, and ate some yummy food. The flavors reminded me of the Mexican food from home, maybe because in California we have a large population from Michoacán (the state that Morelia is in) and they have brought their delicious recipes with them. 

The next morning Tim and I set out to find out what this film festival was all about. We found the theater and spoke to someone who was promoting their film. It was about the raids on immigrants in the U.S. and how it effects the towns they are deported from and the towns they are deported back to. This film was specifically about a small town in Iowa with a large Guatemalan population. Unfortunately, the film was sold out by the time we got to the front of the line. That was our film festival experience. I still want to find this film and see it some day.

I was told that stars might be in town for the festival, so of course I kept my eyes peeled looking for Poncho Herrera or Jaime Camil. No luck there, either. Instead of stalking stars all day, Tim and I met up with Sharon and Alice in our hotel. We set out to explore the city. We went to an orchid garden, went to the candy museum (yes, a candy museum!), and returned to our hotel tired from wandering around. I think Tim, Sharon, and I really needed our sit-down- and-talk-time. Poor Alice got bored of the adult talk and retired back to the room to watch movies. I remember as a child whenever my mom was visiting with friends she would tell me, "Just let me finish this cup of coffee." I never understood why she didn't just chug that cup so we could go! Now I get it. We told Alice we were just going to finish our coffee and we would be right up. A couple of hours later, we were still there. We took turns venting about our frustrations of teaching in Mexico, bragging about the wonderful experiences we've had, and laughing about the many peculiarities of Mexico. When Alice came back wondering if we had finally finished our coffee, we decided to venture back out into the city.

We found a neat restaurant/bar/lounge where we ate our late dinner. The perfect place for all: food, music, and couches. Once Alice got tired, she just lay down on the couch and we were able to continue our dinner, listening to the music and trying to ignore the making-out couples that surrounded us. Public displays of affection are really common. I'm trying to get used to it again (Spain was crazy!).

The next day Tim left early, but Sharon, Alice and I set out to wander around the city before our buses left later that afternoon. I took them to the places that Tim had shown me; the aqueduct, a museum that was all about women, a beautiful church, an artesanía market, and the main plaza. We parted ways at the bus terminal and I was actually excited to get on a bus for 4 hours. ETN, the bus line I've been using here, is amazing. Once I had WiFi, there is enough leg room for me to straighten my legs (yes, ME!), movies, etc. Plus, the views of Mexico from the window are pleasing to look at while I listen to my música romántica....

Nada Humano Me Es Ajeno

Many people have been asking me about school, and I realized, I’ve hardly mentioned it in my blog! Funny, it’s the actual reason why I’m here and I have neglected it. Sorry.

So, how is school going? What is it like? How are your students? What’s the school like? Here goes… (this is going to be a long one)

After almost being in school for 2 months I feel I can now give a somewhat accurate comparison of what I’m used to and what I’m doing now. The educational systems between the US and Mexico obviously vary, but add to that the fact that my university is “unlike” other universities in Mexico, and you get a much different experience. As I explained earlier, my university sort of prides itself on being different in a “socialistic” kind of way. We are here to serve the students that work or that have circumstances that might otherwise keep them from studying at the university level. Therefore, allowing them to take English 1 and 2 at the same time, like I said. I think a lot of this is expressed pretty well in their motto, “Nada humano me es ajeno”. This comes from a famous quote from Publius Terentius Afer, also known as “Terence”, who was a famous playwright of the Roman Republic (thanks Wikipedia). The entire quote in Latin is, “homo sum; humani nihil a me alienum puto.” Translated, it means, “I am a man; and I consider nothing that concerns mankind a matter of indifference to me.”

What this means to me is that we’re supposed to be a little more understanding when it comes to our students. They are generally coming from circumstances that make studying a university difficult. However, I had to lay down the law when it came to tardies. I understand that sometimes, things happen. Life is tough. Alarm clocks don’t go off, the metro is delayed, there’s a lot of traffic, etc, etc. But, my students were coming in 30 minutes to an hour late to an hour and a half class. It was making teaching difficult because I would start a lesson, then would have to explain again to the group of students that walked in late, then have to do it again 15 minutes later when the next group of late students came. I found out that I could be stricter when I came to tardies. So, I give them 15 minutes. Still, students will try to come in after that. My absolute favorite excuse is the traffic. “Es que, maestra, había mucho tráfico.” Chicos, this is Mexico City. There is horrible traffic EVERYDAY. They tell me like it’s an unusual occurrence. Most have learned, and just come see me in my office after class.

Having this tardy policy has shrunk the number of students that actually come to my class everyday (well, that’s only part of it. They tell me students just stop attending class and I’ve heard that frequent absences are really common in Mexico). My English 2 has 52 students enrolled, but usually only 20-30 show up. My English 2 has shrunk to a pathetic 3-5 students that attend regularly. That’s my 7 am class and I think they just don’t want to come that early. Yesterday, I stepped out of my class at 7:15 to see if I could get some more markers from the “enlace”. On my way up the stairs I saw one of my students that was supposed to be in my class putting her make up on in one of the studying rooms. I’m pretty sure she was also waiting for her boyfriend who is also in my class. She tried to come in at 7:30 and I wouldn’t let her. She came up to me after class and I said, “Don’t sit there and put your make up on and think you can come into class a half an hour late.” She looked pretty embarrassed. I would be more understanding with students if I knew they had issues, but, if I can find the time for my make-up regimen (ya’ll know what that entails!), then she can, too. I feel that most students take the liberties that this university gives them and take advantage of it.

Fairfield High School is full of students that come from circumstances that are keeping them from continuing their education so having the student population that I have here at the UACM isn’t too different. However, I’m not sure I agree with giving them a lot of leniency. If there’s one word that I learned to try to maintain with my classes it’s RIGOR (thanks, AVID). I feel that students coming from difficult situations understand more than others that the best way to achieve whatever it is you’re trying to achieve is through hard work. Making excuses and being constantly catered to doesn’t’ create skills or the work ethic necessary to be successful in a university or the “real world” after. Actually, because of their circumstances, whatever they may be, they may have to work just that much harder to go to a university or succeed, so if we keep letting them make excuses, are we really helping them?

Sorry, I’ll get off of my high horse now…

There have definitely been some positive changes for me here in Mexico, regarding school. I didn’t even notice a lot of these things until I read my friend Hilary’s blog. She’s another Fulbright teacher who is teaching in Tijuana, Mexico. As Hilary pointed out, the students’ attitudes here are very different. I haven’t had one student complain to me that what we are doing is too hard. I haven’t had one student ask me if what we were going to do today was “important” (I absolutely HATE that). No one has said, this is boring, this sucks, do I HAVE TO do this, etc, etc, etc. As a matter of fact, the only feedback I get from students is positive. “I really like the way you teach. You really help me understand English.” I don’t think my teaching has changed much; I’m still me, so I know the difference is coming from my students. Then, once I realized this, I noticed what a difference it made in my own attitude toward my students and toward my teaching. I’m not as emotionally drained at the end of the day. I don’t get home and just want to sit and stare, not say anything, not talk to anyone, not think about anything. That’s who I had become, that’s what I would do.

Learning from this….

I know that a lot of how I react to what my students say and do is my responsibility. I think what I’m learning is that I take too much, I let my students say things to me and I let them treat me the way that I’m now learning bothers me. If I want to be respected the way I am here, I’m going to have to demand a little more respect when I return home. I know that will be a challenge because our society doesn’t tend to respect teachers as much as they do here. So, I’ll have to demand something that is just given to me here. If being treated better is a positive consequence of demanding respect, I’ll think I’ll be up to the challenge.

In addition to learning about the differences in our systems, I’m also really enjoying teaching English. Instead of teaching Juanes and Maná songs I’m teaching Britney Spears, The Beatles, Pink, The Cure, and anything that I can find that grammatically fits my lesson. Funny! I’m also learning a ton of English grammar. It is definitely an advantage to have a strong background in Spanish grammar, because it helps me when I’m trying to explain similarities and differences between the two languages. I am finding that my students here are having the same troubles with English as my students in the US do with Spanish. Everything being “backwards” (el gato negro=the black cat, not the cat black), prepositions, and omitting verbs are just a few that I’ve noticed.

I share my office with a French teacher who has been very kind and helpful. One of the best parts about sharing an office with her is that I get to hear her speak French. I always listen to see if I still got it. Most of the time I understand everything… then again, she is teaching them basic levels and I have a minor in French for crying out loud, but still, it feels good to understand.

The photocopy situation is funny to me. There’s a section in the library where we go to give our papers to the copy guy (shoot, can’t remember his name right now…). If he doesn’t have a lot of copies lined up, I can get my copies done right away. Sometimes, I have to drop them off and come back later. At first I thought, “Sweet, I don’t have to make my own copies!” Then, I realized this can be inconvenient at times. For example, if he’s not there, if he’s really busy, or if it’s not within the hours (10-5), then I have to wait. That might not seem like a big deal, but not being at the school everyday means I need to really plan ahead, especially with copies. If I need something for Monday, I need to get it copied on Thursday. There’s been times when he hasn’t been there so I’ve gone and made copies on the street somewhere. I shouldn’t complain too much, since Hilary can’t even do that. I do write on the board a lot more than I did before, because it’s just easier than dealing with copies, and in turn, better for the environment. J

All in all, I’m really enjoying my job here. Like all jobs and especially with teaching, there are very frustrating days (like when NO ONE shows up to my 7 am class that I had left my house at 5:45 for…). But, I’m doing my best to remain positive and to enjoy this experience as much as I can.

¡Viva México!

This video is of the Zócalo in Mexico City on September 16th. The night before this place was filled with people screaming "¡Viva México!" As you can see, Mexico will now be celebrating it's bicentennial all year. 1810-2009... we're now "celebrating 200 years of independence". Next year is going to be off the hook. 1810-2010. Who's coming for that?!?!

The night before I was not in the Zócalo, however. I was enjoying a delicious, homemade posole made by Yolko's mother-in-law. I learned that the evening of the 15th, it's more common for people to celebrate with their families eating posole. As much as I wanted to be in the Zócalo, I opted for the food and the familiar company (rather than getting soaked with the other 1,000's of folks in the Zócalo). I know, you're not shocked that I chose the yummy food option. ;)

So, how's it going?

(The picture is my apartment building on the left, the Torre Mayor in the middle, and a hospital on the right. My balcony is the second from the top on the side facing the hospital.)

Many people are asking me how school is, how my life is, if I've gotten hitched to that hot latin man that I've been dreaming about, etc. So, I'll fill you in on the daily stuff that is now my life in Mexico City...

I'll say up front that I love it here. I love living in Mexico City. I love the craziness of it, the honking horns, the enchiladas, the mole, the cheap movies, the tall buildings, the WiFi at Starbucks, fresh mangos, Sunday markets, flautas, riding my beach cruiser around town, Chapultepec Park, Polanco, my new friends, the Zócalo.... you get it, I could go on.

Let me not always paint a pretty picture, though. I know I've mostly been posting the fun, exciting life that I've been living, but I have definitely found some frustrations and not so pretty things about living here. For example, there's a certain corner on Ave Chapultepec where I see rats many of the mornings on my walk to work. Ew. Probably the grossest thing I've seen here yet (and this could top the list of the grossest thing I've seen EVER) was a man defecating on the sidewalk (well, into the planter). Yup, had his pants and everything around his ankles and was pulling off a remarkable squat on Fray Servando, the VERY busy and VERY congested street where my university is. I had to walk right by him and was I mortified. At least he was fertilizing the tree, right? Yuck.

I think I'm doing an ok job of changing the way I live so that I'm not the Super American that's living here. However, it's difficult to be ecological here, and that frustrates me. The fact that I cannot drink the tap water bothers me because I'm forced to buy bottled water. My roommate and I get the large Alhambra/Sparkletts type of water for the kitchen, but I'm often finding myself buying bottles of H2O or other beverages while I'm out and about. It's also a little more difficult to recycle (hence more guilt for buying the plastic, because I have to throw it in the trash. It hurts to do that.). There IS recycling in Mexico City, it's just not what I'm used to and not as available. I just hope that the bottle that I throw away doesn't eventually end up on a heap somewhere....

I do have to say that there are some things about me that are different here than who I am at home. For example, at home, I detest sour cream. Put it on my burrito and you'll see one upset gringa. Here, I eat it. I know, gettin' a little crazy! The first time it came on my enchiladas I was totally bummed. I had forgotten to say, "Sin crema, por favor." Then, I tasted it, and, hmmmm, the sour cream is different here... actually, it isn't sour at all, maybe that's why it's just called "crema" and not "crema agria". Now, when they ask me what I want on my flautas I happily say everything, crema included.

I've also been consuming more soda here. You probably don't think this is a big deal but if you know me at home, you know that I hardly ever drink soda. Here, I think I have a Diet Coke (o sea, Una Coca Light) at least 3-4 times a week. For shame! Or, should I say, Formaldehyde! Coming from someone who would have 1 soda a month it's a bit of a change. There's just something about how great a Coca Light tastes with Enchiladas de Mole (my new favorite). I also owe much of my soda consumption to the medicinal purposes of 7Up and Sprite because Mexico can, and sure has, taken it's toll on my digestive system. Yikes.

I've also turned into a complete klutz. I think I've had cuts and bruises on my body since week one. Not only am I cutting myself with knives, I'm falling on the sidewalk. Once, I slipped on a slippery sidewalk and fell right on my butt in front of a restaurant. Who paints the sidewalk anyway???? That's a hazard for klutzy gringas! I was on my way to a watch a soccer game and spent the entire evening with a wet toushie. Another time, while trying to avoid a puddle, I fell in the mud. I wasn't covered in mud, just my hands, purse, and pride. I'm not going to mention the time I tried doing a handstand on the beach against a rock... let's just say a walked away with scraped legs and sand in my hair. Am I this klutzy at home????

I love where I live. The neighborhood that I'm in is very close to a lot of things. I'm just 2 blocks from Chapultepec Park, one block from Ave Chapultepec, and one block from La Reforma (all of this is illustrated in my video, Crazy Storm Part 1). There's a hotel on the next block that my roommate tells me is where pretty high profile people stay, like Hillary Clinton and Britney Spears. I've been able to find a tortillería where I can buy freshly made tortillas, a bakery, my favorite enchilada place, several convenience stores, and a laundry place all within a few blocks of my building. I'm right on the edge of La Zona Rosa, which is the gay/Korean part of Mexico City. Interesting combo. It's not like the Castro or even Hillcrest in SD, but I guess there is more of a gay presence here than anywhere else in the city. I think the Korean presence is more dominant and to me interesting because, here I am walking down the street in Mexico City, and I hear Korean being spoken. One of these days I'll venture into one of the many Korean markets and see what they're all about.

My apartment is on the 6th floor of a building with 7 floors. One of the crazy things about the taller buildings in Mexico City is the constant swaying. It feels like small earthquakes when big trucks pass by outside. It was explained to me that this is because Mexico City was built ON TOP OF the ancient Aztec City, Tenochtitlán, and also on top of a lake. Not much of a solid surface underneath, you can say. That happens at work, too, and my office is only on the 2nd floor (technically the 3rd). Someone asked me one day if I felt the "small earthquake" the other day. Um, no, because everyday I feel like 20 small earthquakes from these swaying buildings. At first, yes, I thought they were earthquakes but now I wonder if I'll even be able to differentiate between the two... (I hope to not have to!).

One day I went and sat at a little restaurant (the very one I fell in front of just 2 days later) to read my book and relax. I realized during that short period of time that the amount of items that are for sale on the street is just crazy. It's also very sad because at all times of the day (early morning to late night) there are small children trying to sell stuff to you. NO, it's not just chicle, I know what you're thinking. Seriously, within 15 minutes I was offered a shoe shine, a lamp, pens, cigarettes, Mexican flags, snacks, ok, yes, chicle, bracelets, earrings, and soap. And, don't even get me started on the metro! Cd's, dvd's, conversion charts, etc, etc, etc. You name it, you can buy it on the street here. Convenient yes, but sad, too.

The people begging on the street is common, but one day I had a boy who was about 8 years old come up to me at a store and ask me to buy him something. I was so shocked by this that I didn't know what to do. My heart ached for this kid. Then, as I was getting ready to purchase my goods, I glimpsed and saw that same boy drooling over the soap opera magazines. Once he stroked the woman on the cover my guilt went away. If that was what he wanted there was no way I was going to buy that for him. I was thinking a Snickers bar or something, not the latest edition of Telenovelas.

Other than me being a klutzy, soda-drinking, sour cream-eating, and English teaching individual, I'm still me. I've already gone through one telenovela (Las tontas no van al cielo, loved it!) and I'm onto the next series, Terminales, starring none other than my baby-daddy, Poncho Herrera (Miguel from Rebelde). I do my yoga, run when I can (which hasn't been that much, I blame my ailments), and spend too much time on Facebook. Somethings about me have changed, but, don't worry, Schwabie's still Schwabie... at least for now.

My First Experience with Futbol Mexicano

On Sunday, September 13^th I was invited to attend a Pumas soccer game. I had declared myself a Chivas fan a few years ago for several reasons, but being a fan of watching just about any sport, of course I was game. I mean, put me in any stadium filled with loyal, cheering fans and I love jumping on board. I’d probably even like the Dodgers if I were at the Dodger Stadium. Wait, no, I wouldn’t go THAT far. I have become quite attached to soccer as I’ve watched El Tri, Mexico’s National Soccer Team, continue to charge toward the World Cup next summer. I knew that watching a soccer game in Mexico was going to be filled with cultural tidbits and quite a learning experience. Little did I know HOW much of a learning experience it was going to be…

It turns out that the Pumas are Mexico’s version of the Oakland Raiders. That’s the best comparison I can give them. According to most of the people I’ve talked to, the Pumas’ games are quite violent and crude. When I told people I had gone to a Pumas game they looked at me, wide-eyed, like, “Why?” This is the place where you don’t dare wear a jersey from another team because it might be taken off of you and burned. This is also a place that stops selling beer at 1:15 because the fans get too out of hand. When someone makes a goal, get out your umbrella because it starts raining beer. When someone from the other team does something you don’t like, yell whatever you want at him, even if you’re 8 years old. I’d never seen more middle fingers thrown up by people less than 12 years old than I did at this game. And the words that came out of their mouths! I wanted to ask them, “You kiss your mother with that mouth?!?!” Then, I remembered where I was and I realized I was the only one that found this behavior remotely shocking. Now, I’ve never been to a Raiders game, but this is how I imagine them to be.

The Pumas ended up losing 2-1 to Pachuca. Boo. I did end up making it out of the stadium in one piece with just a sprinkle of beer in my hair from the one goal that they made. I enjoyed the experience and learned A LOT. Most of it I won’t share on this blog because of its offensive nature, but you can imagine. Just being in the stadium (The Olympic Stadim) and witnessing the game first hand was amazing. I do look forward to my next game… whether it be Pumas or Chivas, we’ll see.

¡Viva México!

Puma Cheers

This video illustrates how involved the fans get at the Pumas games. If you're wondering what they're cheering, I'll censor it... It has something to do with a strip bar from back in the 1950's (or 1960's?) and the "desire" the players expressed for going there after their games. "Goya! Goya!"

Crazy Storm Part 1

The Thunder Storms of Mexico City

I took advantage of the balcony of my 6th floor apartment to enjoy the most dramatic thunder storm I've seen in Mexico so far. I also narrate a little so you can see the view that I have. The funniest part of this video (the one above) is when the thunder scares me. You'll notice because the camera shakes for a few seconds. I was laughing at myself so feel free to do so, as well.

The storms here have been INSANE. Last Friday 2 of my fellow Fulbrighters came to visit and witnessed the craziness. Nick actually saw a lightning bolt strike the building right behind mine. Tim and I missed the actual strike but saw the smoke after. Crrrrrazy.

The streets often flood since this is The City of Eternal Concrete. There's nowhere for the water to go to be absorbed so the streets flood within a matter of hours. This has made my walking commute to work rather interesting, especially since I've discovered that my most "supportive" shoes (besides my running shoes) are my Montrail Flip Flops, or my Super Chanclas, as I call them. I wore them this morning because my feet were a little sore from wearing unsupportive shoes yesterday. I figured I'd walk to work in my Super Chanclas then change into nicer "work shoes" once I got there. I didn't know that it had rained last night while I slept so dodging puddles was my favorite game this morning. Needless to say I had to wipe down my feet when I got to work. I need to come up with a better plan, or find another good pair of closed-toe shoes. I'm trying to find "Superfeet" insoles (or something equivalent) but no such luck. Yes, I could just wear my running shoes but I'm not sure I can pull of the New York Commuter look. Wait, I forgot, it doesn't matter what I do... I stand out regardless... maybe I will give that a try...

Below is the video of the same storm, just shot later that night. The storm lasted from about 5 pm to about 10:30 pm. Hours of fun for Schwabie!

Nico Loco

Sorry it's sideways... can't figure out how to turn it...

The soothing waters of la Playa Carrizalillo

Puerto Escondido, Oaxaca

Being extremely blessed with a schedule that allows me to travel, I took advantage and spent almost a week in Puerto Escondido. Puerto Escondido is located on the Pacific Coast of the state of Oaxaca and is known for it's great waves. I had been wanting to go there ever since I read about it in a travel magazine several years ago. Little did I know that the waves were a little more than what I was used to or what I'm comfortable with.

When I got there I immediately noticed a difference in the air and temperature from what I've grown accustomed to in Mexico City. The humidity, something I don't tend to appreciate, was very thick and the sun was very strong. Even though I tend to stay away from humidity, I loved the heat in that moment. I got to my hotel, checked in, then went for a stroll along the beach. It was a Tuesday but I was still pretty shocked to find that there weren't people laying out on the beach or swimming in the ocean. During my hour walk I encountered only about 5 other people strolling along the beach.

I met up with my friend, Nick, another Fulbrighter, who had been there for several weeks. Lucky son of a gun doesn't start school until this coming week. Since he had been there for so long, and had been there before, I looked to him to help me get acquainted with this small beach town. Wednesday morning he came to get me at 6:30 am so we could go catch some early morning waves before the crowds of surfers get there. We got to "The Point" when it was still dark and sat in the sand and ate delicious mangos while we waited for the sun to come up (My love affair with mangos has become even more intense here). Before the sun had even touched the waves, Nick headed into the water, pointing to where he was going to be, where the rocks were to avoid, etc. Given those directions I decided to wait a few more minutes until I was able to see where I was going. I had never been here and didn't want to end up crashing into the rocks that he was warning me about. About 10 minutes later, I stepped into the water, which was warmer than the cool morning air outside. I paddled out and found Nick. After just a few minutes I saw a wave approaching, paddled, and rode it in. Yeah, my first wave! Little did I know, that would be my only wave... ah, well.

The rest of the morning I was tossed around and got quite a beating from the ever-powerful Pacific. The next day I had sore ribs, a bruise on my thigh from where my leash somehow got wrapped around me during an underwater struggle, and quite a deflated ego. Shamefully I didn't surf after that day, even though the waves got smaller and were much more my "level". Oh, well, I still have more time here to get better at surfing. Instead of getting up to surf I got up and ran a few mornings. I was SO nice being able to run at sea level!

Later that day Nick and I headed to a small beach called Playa Carrizalillo. It's about a 45 minute walk from Playa Zicatela, the main beach where my hotel was. Playa Carrizalillo is a small bay tucked away from the rest of Puerto Escondido, and only accessible by a long staircase (or you can kayak there, which we ended up doing a couple days later). I took advantage of the calmer waters and went for a little swim, but on my way back to shore I hit my knee on a rock, right on a sea urchin. I didn't really notice until I was back on the shore, sitting on my pareo, and saw that my knee was bleeding. When I looked closer I saw the little black spike-thingies stuck in my knee. Ouch. So far, Puerto Escondido was giving me quite a beating!

On the walk back to Playa Zicatela, Nick showed me the bridge that he liked to jump off. Without any hesitation, he jumped right off the bridge and into the water below. Scared the BEJESUS out of me because there are rocks under the bridge. From where I was standing I couldn't tell how deep it was or how deep those rocks where.... After a few minutes of deep breaths, I finally took my first plunge from the bridge. Whew! Once you get the fear out of the way, it was really fun and of course I jumped again, and again, even tried to get fancy (see video). Nick took it to the next level and climbed up on the rocks above the bridge and jumped into the water from there. That scared me! (see video). Soon a couple of Spaniards approached the bridge and we tried convincing them that it wasn't that bad, they should do it, etc, etc. The girl never did and it took the guy quite a while to get the courage to jump. I'm glad he did because he sure was going to look like a wuss not jumping while this crazy americana kept doing it. :)

Kayaking to Playa Carrizalillo was fun, too. Nick met a guy named Balthazar from Switzerland and we soon became the 3 Musketeers. We rented kayaks and ventured to the small beach. Once there we relaxed in our favorite spot, in the shade, just watching the waves and the few surfers that were there. On the way back, it started storming a bit. Hearing the thunder roll above you while you're in the ocean kayaking was pretty neat. I'm pretty sure I had a goofy smile on my face because I LOVE thunder and lightning and can never get too much of it. Of course we showed Balthazar the bridge and he did a back flip off of it on his first jump. These crazy boys, I tell you!

Because Balthazar had a car, he was able to take Nick and me to some nearby beaches about an hour away from Puerto Escondido. We went to La Ventanilla and a Mazunte. Our laid-back personalities worked well for our travels and we just chilled on the beach, swam, tried to do some beach yoga (um, me trying to do a handstand against the rock, slipping and falling on my face, what do I think sometimes?!?!).

The next day, Sunday, I was supposed to be leaving at 3:40 to return to Mexico City. I sat in the restaurant of the hotel I was staying in most of the day and did some lesson planning. I think I had had too much sun or had some reaction to the sunblock I was using because I had quite a heat rash (or something). Shade all day for me! I got to the airport and was all ready to check in, when the agent told me my flight was for the next day. What?!?! I looked at my itinerary, and yes, there it was, August 31st, not August 30th. I cursed myself for not paying attention when I booked my ticked online and begged the agent to please let me on this flight. I was supposed to be teaching the next morning!!!!! The agents passed me from one person to the next, each saying they couldn't do anything for me. Finally, one guy said that if I paid the difference of the ticket in cash, I'd be able to get on that plane (cash because there wasn't enough time to run a credit card in the system because the plane was going to take off in about a half and hour). Well, that was going to be about $2000 pesos which, of course, I didn't have in cash nor did I want to pay that much. Feeling VERY guilty about having to miss work the next day, I returned to my hotel, checked back in, and called my mentor. I explained my error to her, apologized profusely, and said I'd be flying back the next day. She said it was ok, she would tell my students, and that was it. Wow, not bad. (I still felt really bad, though)

Taking advantage of the extra day, Monday I went back to Playa Carrizalillo for a few hours. Nick met up with me later and we soaked up the shade, swam, enjoyed some cold beers, and listened to his iPod. Needless to say, I became quite a fan of Carrizalillo. I really liked Puerto Escondido and just might return there someday... anyone want to join me?

Me, Practicing for the Olympic Diving Team, in Puerto Escondido

Mexico Wins!

This is a brief video that I took of the craziness of Mexico City when Mexico beat the United States in soccer a few weeks ago.

Visiting Frida's House

Ever since my senior year in high school, the year I discovered the artist Frida Kahlo, I have been dreaming of visiting her house here in Mexico. I remember reading about "La Casa Azul", about the gardens where her many animals would run around, and about the bed she would paint from when she was too ill to stand up.

On Friday I took the Metro down to Coyoacán, the town where Frida lived. Coyoacán, now a delegation of Mexico city, also has the home of Leon Trotsky, who was a friend of Frida and a revolutionary marxist. I found Trotsky's house first, then continued to walk to Frida's house, just a few blocks away. When I walked into the patio I saw the gardens that I had read about, adorned with fountains and now tables and chairs to sit in to enjoy the ambience. As I entered the rooms of the house (no photos allowed) I tried to picture what life must've been like in this house for Frida. Many of the walls are adorned with her own paintings, with several others by Diego and other artists. Being in the room where Frida used to paint was like a dream come true for me. I saw the bed with the mirror so she could see her face for all of the self-portraits she made. I also saw several of her casts that she used to have to wear that she decorated/painted and made them into works of art themselves. Like many people who are big fans of Frida, being in her house was an amazing experience.

From Frida's house I walked toward the center of Coyoacán. Unlike the part of Mexico City that I live in, Coyoacán is more of what people think of when they think of Mexico (in my opinion, at least). Beautiful, bright-colored buildings, old churches, and plazas where people stroll around and sit on benches. I found a small restaurant where I sat to relax and breath in aromas of the homemade tortillas I could hear being made (slap! slap! slap! slap!). My 3 course lunch, which included Tortilla soup, a cauliflower dish, and mole was only 45 pesos (about $3.50). After lunch I strolled around admiring the old buildings painted bright orange and yellow and trying not to trip on the uneven stone streets and sidewalks.

Yesterday I was a tourist for the day and rode one of those double-decker buses around Mexico City. I LOVE riding double-decker buses! It's so relaxing and you get some really great views. I took pictures of a lot of the things I see everyday on my walk to and from work, and some pictures of things that were particularly interesting that day. Like, the guy dressed like Michael Jackson who was dancing on the sidewalk. His moonwalk put mine to shame! Or, the demonstration that was going on by the Palacio de Bellas Artes. Hundreds of people along the streets were wearing Obama masks holding a sign that said, "If our politicians treated us like they treated Obama, this would be a different country." I'll have to get to the bottom of what that's about. I have to say that seeing all of these people with Obama masks on was quite funny.

I'm hoping that my quest for my long-term apartment is over. I found the place I want to live in, located in the area called La Zona Rosa. It's right by Chapultepec Park and just a few blocks from La Reforma (my favorite street in Mexico City). Hopefully I'll be moving next week... stay tuned!

2 Weeks Down...

Today I finished my second work week here in Mexico. I've told myself that I will never complain about work because, compared to what I'm used to, my schedule and work life is great. This morning, however, I encountered a few interesting incidents that made me frustrated, only because I was tired and haven't had a great cup of coffee in awhile.

I got to my office around 6:50 am to get the books I was going to be distributing to my students. As I went to leave the office, my key wouldn't come out of the lock. I stood there for about 5 minutes, doing everything I could and almost breaking the key in the lock, but nothing worked. What do I do? There was NO ONE around (there aren't that many classes at 7 am) and I didn't want to leave my key in the door. I share that office with 2 other professors and if they showed up and saw my key in the door, they probably wouldn't be too happy with me. At about 7:01, I left the key there with the intention of finding someone on my way to my class.

I get to the classroom where I teach English III and the door was locked. There weren't any students around, either. It was a few minutes past 7, and my Mexican students do have a tendency of being late, but, NO ONE? Hmmm.... so, I went up to the "Enlace" to find someone to open the door for me (and to fetch my key out of the office door), and NO ONE there either. Does anyone else work around here? I went back down to the ground floor (class is on the 4th floor, enlace is on the 5th, office is on the 2nd floor of the building across the street which is connected by an indoor bridge on the 2nd floor, so yeah, I was running all over the place). I asked the security at the door if she could call someone to open my door for me and get someone to get my key out. By the time she got a hold of someone, she said that the classroom was open. Whew, back up to the 4th floor (this time I cheated and took the elevator) and time to teach! Did I mention I hadn't had any coffee? :) A few minutes into class Enrique, the guy from the enlace, came to give me my key. He did confirm tha,t yes, the lock is a little messed up and he would look into getting it fixed. After that my day did slow down, but I had to laugh at the circumstances.

I have had the chance to sit down and chat with my mentor, Yolko, twice now. I really enjoy our conversations because I get ask her about all sorts for things that I'm curious about without feeling like I need to culturally hold back or act a certain way. I asked her about her opinions on the Mexican government, how universities work here, and we were able to peacefully talk about and make comparisons with the United States. She studied at Stanford University so she spent her time in the US, which helps in our conversations and mutual understanding. What's most interesting for me is that I'm able to make comparisons with how the Mexican Government is PORTRAYED in the US with how people here actually feel about. Granted, I've really only spoken to 2 people (I also talked to Angeles' husband, my exchange teacher who is teaching my classes at FHS), but they seem to share the same reality. Here I thought the Mexican President was popular and well-liked. Yeah, not so much.

Yolko has also been a big help me understanding how things work at UACM. She said it's hard to compare UACM with how things are in Mexico in general because they tend to do things differently. She said they tend to be more of a socialist kind of university. I thought that was funny because if you know me, you know that I tend to lean that way, as well, which isn't the norm in the US. An example of how it's different at UACM than other universities that I've encountered is that they give students a lot of freedoms when they're registering for their classes. I have a few students that are in my English 1 and English 2 classes. To me, that's just weird and doesn't make sense, but she says they let them do it because if they're willing to put in the work for it, then why not? She sees how it doesn't really make sense, but it does go along with the philosophy of the university, "Nada humano me es ajeno".

Another interesting conversation that Yolko and I had today was about Earthquake Drills. She said they'll do a drill and there will be a loud bell, and we all file down the stairs to the street. That isn't too different from what we do in California. Then, I asked her what to do in an ACTUAL earthquake. Do we get under the desks and wait for the trembling to stop, then evacuate? No, she said, as soon as you feel it tremble you leave the building and stand outside away from the building (because it can fall). THAT is different. We talked about the earthquake here in 1985, the destruction that it caused, and compared it to the earthquake I experienced in San Francisco in 1989.

Food-wise I have been trying not to be too overindulgent. I have enjoyed a couple of plates of super-delicious enchiladas, tortas, and tacos, and you know I'm enjoying my helados here, too. I rediscovered malletes, which is what we ate in Cancun everyday when I went with my girls (and Gabe!) for our Senior Trip in '96. It's bread with black beans spread over it and covered in cheese, served with an avocado salsa. Yum. The fruit is what I'm letting myself go crazy on. The fresh fruit on the street is SOOO good. So far, my stomach has been ok (knock on wood) and I've been somewhat careful about my choices, but I'm not being a total freak about it.

Here's my blooper of the day:

I hadn't done laundry since I left Fairfield on August 1st. I think the fact that I can go this long and still have plenty of clothes is evidence that I WAY OVERPACKED. Oh, well, you live, you learn. So, I go to drop off my laundry at the closest place, according to Google. The guy itemizes my clothing, gives me a slip and I leave. When I got home I realized how RIDICULOUSLY expensive this place is because I'm going to be paying $62 dollars for my laundry. Yeah, I know. I'm pretty mad at myself right now, but I wasn't going to run back there and ask for my clothes back! It's a punishment for me not paying attention. What can I say... I'm really tired today.... I'll look for another laundry place soon.

Casper?

My quest for my "permanent" apartment continues. Today I looked at two more and found the perfect place.... I hope he picks me!

I must say, it was never a shock that I was going to be stared at and made comments about. I'm 5"8 and I'm still blond under Mexican rules even though I dyed my hair darker. Children look at me like they've never seen anything like me in their lives. Yesterday, though, I got the BEST reaction out of this one man. I was walking down a street that was relatively crowded. The man is walking by me right next to me. All of the sudden he looks up at me (yes, looks up) and actually took a step back with his mouth gaping open. I had to keep walking to keep from busting up laughing. He literally looked like he'd seen a ghost. It was awesome. I think I need to hit up the beach fast because I MUST be pale if I'm getting that kind of reaction out of people.

Today was the first day that I walked to school AND home without getting detoured by my own carelessness (meaning, I didn't get lost at all). This little victory today felt great.

Attitude

While I was searching through the books I will be using this year to teach English, I found this great advice from Charles Swindoll. It´s extremely fitting to us as educators, and I´m going to try to remember this, especially now when I´m experiencing something pretty amazing, yet very frustrating at times.

"The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness, or skill.

It will make or break a company...a church...a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day.

We cannot change our past...we cannot change our past...we cannot change the fact that people will act a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable.

The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude... I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it. And so it is with you... We are in chargeof our Attitudes... Don´t you think so?"

Back to the Mother Land... or so I thought...

Tomorrow marks the one week anniversary of my arrival in Mexico Lindo. I feel like I've been here a lot longer than a week, I must admit. Within one week I moved into my studio, got (somewhat) acquainted with the enormous city I will be calling home for the next 10 months or so, and started teaching English at La Universidad Autónoma de la Cuidad de México (or UACM). Because I'm a bit behind in starting this blog, I'll highlight the past week for you.

Saturday I wondered around El Centro Histórico (The Historic Center), yearning to see with my own eyes the massive Mexican flag that dances in the middle of the Zócalo. As I walked upon it I had to keep my cool and not act like a nerdy tourist. It was a Saturday and the entire surrounding area was packed with people all in a hurry to be somewhere. Not the place to take out my camera and marvel. So, I quietly marveled and continued on my journey. My plan was to find the university where I'll be teaching, but to no avail. With the limited knowledge I had about the location of this place, it was just enough to get me within the vicinity of it. I wandered down small streets, inhaled deeply as a walked past corn cooking on open grills, tacos being fried up and tortillas being served with salsas of all colors. Listening to the advice of our Fulbright/Comexus mentors, I passed on the food and ate another favorite treat of mine... MAGNUM ICE CREAM (except here it's Hollanda.). Oh, yes.

Soon I realized I was not where I thought I was. Lost? Well, that's a relative term. It was just a matter of getting back to La Reforma, one of the main streets in Mexico City and, thankfully, one of my cross-streets. I turned a corner and laughed really hard inside at what I was surrounded by; about 100 mariachi guys standing in an area I only guesses was where one would go to hire a mariachi (?). As I walked by I was extremely conscious of the fact that, not only was I the only woman around, I was the only person not wearing a fancy jacket with matching pants, holding an instrument of some sort. What must they have thought of the little lost gringa that stumbled upon them? Oh, Gretchen....

Sunday morning I set out with certain areas of Mexico City in mind for discovery. To my surprise La Reforma was completely closed on both sides and was filled with people on bikes, on rollerblades, running, etc. What is THIS?!?! You'd think I'd died and gone to heaven! Apparently every Sunday they do this thing here as a campaign for healthy families and they shut down most of La Reforma and allow people to enjoy the city on wheels and on foot, sans cars. I can't wait until next Sunday!

I found Chapultepec Park (the name of my dorm at SDSU!) and, wow, it's huge. I decided that I would leave the actual Chapultepec Adventure for another day, with my running shoes strapped on. I'm hoping to eventually live closer to this park so that it can become my regular running spot. I won't look like a total weirdo running in there.

I think the funniest thing to happen to me yet happened yesterday. I hadn't had the chance to see "Harry Potter" so I waited until Wednesday to go. I paid 36 pesos (Wednesday's are half price day in Mexico, too, like in Spain) for the movie, which is like $2.75. I KNOW. Guess where I'll be every Wednesday?!?! Anyway, I walked out of the theater which is on La Reforma. There was a ton of people outside, all wearing their Mexican soccer jerseys, waving their Mexican flags, and shouting México! México! With all of the police presence I thought it was some sort of political protest or something, especially since I've been hearing a bunch of stuff on the radio about "Nuestro México" (Our Mexico) and how they're trying to work on unity right now. I was a little nervous because I know that political protests can get a little hairy...

I ducked into a little restaurant to grab a bite to eat and asked the women working there what was going on. "It's just that Mexico just won the soccer game against the US." Oh, yeah! duh! I had been hearing all about that, too. I looked down at my shirt, the one with the Spanish flag that says, "Hola Barcelona". Hmmm.... not exactly patriotic USA material but not Viva Mexico either. I was supposed to go look at an apartment at 8 o'clock and didn't want to be walking around wearing anything that was NOT representing Mexico's red, white and green. I quickly went back to my studio to put on the shirt Sarah gave me that says, "Mexico. Jugamos para Ganar." (Mexico. We Play to Win). I thought it was only fitting that the Americana wear this shirt. Hopefully I wouldn't be lynched. I made my way to the apartment, walking through La Glorieta del Angel de la Reforma (one of the main roundabouts in Mexico City, the one they always show in Rebelde :>). As you can only imagine, I got everything from cheers for being the gringa in the Mexico shirt to belligerent fans telling me that they won. Really? I hadn't noticed. I really did enjoy the sights and hearing the people cheer with so much pride just has to put a smile on your face, even if it was your country that they beat. (Although you all know that, even if I had been at home, I would have been rooting for Mexico.)

What happened yesterday was truly an example of how you can take the Gringa out of Gringolandia (what they jokingly call the U.S.), but she'll always be a gringa. I don't try to hide my "gringoness", I just try not to flaunt it. I think even if I went to a beauty shop here and told them to give me a complete Mexican Make-over (whatever that means, I have no idea), I would still have GRINGA written across my forehead. This is a truth that I will have to face all year. It's for reasons like this that I'm here... I represent our country and I'm hear to teach about our country, what it is to me, and to put a face to what my country is. Hopefully, I'll be able to teach, at least my students, that some gringos are not so bad, we're even pretty cool. :)

Follow my adventures in Mexico!

Instead of periodically writing emails to my friends and family, I have created this website to send updates and post pictures of my upcoming adventures in Mexico.  Check in with me as much as you'd like.  I'll try to keep it as up-to-date as possible!  

This website is not an official U.S. Department of State website.  The views and information presented are the grantee's own and do not represent the Fulbright Program or the U.S. Department of State.  

(Fulbright made me do that.)