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