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.