brain crabs

(Bec)

I was feeling much better Wednesday morning, so the first thing we did was go out to the grocery store and get the fixin’s for French toast. We were a little worried cause we only had 80 pesos. We got a loaf of bread, half a dozen eggs and maple syrup for 35 pesos. Yeah, that’s like $3.00 for breakfast. It was so delicious. If anyone has any doubts in their mind about French toast, use the Bimbo bread. Similar to Wonderbread and with the nutritional value of iceberg lettuce, the stuff basically acts as a sweet sponge to soak up all the egg batter. As Jon was making himself some bacon to go along with the French toast, he was struck by a moment of cholesterol genius. He cooked both of his pieces of toast in the bacon grease. He said it was amazing, but that he could hear his heart weeping in his chest afterwards.

After breakfast, we went on a long walk with the camera. We are finding ourselves a little perplexed in the areas past the town center where the street grid really breaks down. So, we went exploring. We’ve uploaded new pictures from a neighborhood past San Antonio (that’s where we live) as you are heading out of town.

For lunch we went back into town and towards the produce market. Jon stopped on the way and bought a chicken (yes, a whole one, roasted and in a bag, just the way the Mexicans like it). While he was queuing for the bird I sat down beside some girls who were selling gordita fixings. We had an awkward conversation during which they giggled a lot, but in the end I managed to get some gordita shells and a bag of nopales (cactus salad). Then we went across the street into the market and got an avacado and some tomatoes. We had a semi-natural interaction with the produce lady in Spanish and I felt very good about that. As we were leaving the market, we saw a woman at one of the cart vendors out front was selling churros. We didn’t know what they were, but they looked and smelled a little like funnel cake and were covered in sugar. How could that be bad? We bought a bag of six of them for less that a dollar and ate them on the way home. Oh my dear Lord. As Bon Jovi would say, “It cuts like a knife, but if feels so right”. Turns out they are deep fried corn fritters usually served with hot chocolate, though they are so rich by themselves I am not sure why you need the hot chocolate. (It also, probably hurts so good.)

We made a fabulous lunch. Jon had chicken tacos and I made nopales and guacamole gorditas. I am so in to the cactus salad, but Jon says it is gross because it is a little snotty. I cannot dispute this claim. Cactus does, in fact, have a slime about it. But it is damn tasty cooked up with some peppers, onions, chilies and cilantro. After such feasting, we had to take our customary post-gorging nap.

Allie came over around 5 and we hung out at the apartment for a few hours. It is a strange thing here—there is a lot of daylight, say from 6 in the morning when the sun rises to 9 pm when it is finally dark. I have a hard time figuring out when to eat dinner and go to bed. We were barely getting 13 hours of daylight when we left Philly. Now, it doesn’t seem appropriate to eat dinner until about 8. Allie left to go meet her friend Alice, while Jon and I went to a café with free wireless access so we could read the news and check our mail. My favorite thing about the café is how they like to serve you iced coffee in a brandy snifter. It is like slurping a bowl of coffee. Very swanky.

Our dinner plan had been to meet Allie and go to Tortilan with her for tortas, but by the time we went to meet her, she had a already left for the bus station (and an interesting bus adventure ensued, but I am sure she can tell that story better than I). After much debate, we ended up at Los Faroles for dinner and we were quite satisfied. My dinner, which was something I had ordered there before, was significantly spicier than the last time I’d had it. I really enjoyed it, though it made me turn red and tear up a bit. I feel like I am working on building my tolerance for spice here.

After dinner we went to Blockbuster to rent a movie. I was still slurping on the agua fresca (essentially fruit juice, in this case made with cantaloupe and watermelon) that I had ordered with my dinner when we walked in. In the interest of not being an oblivious tourist, I asked one of the employees in my broken Spanish gesture talk if I should leave my beverage at the counter. He nearly laughed at me and replied that it was not necessary. I got the feeling that I could have fired up a cigar while I was looking for a disc to rent and no one would have blinked. Mexico is fabulous.

April 13, 2006

(bec)

I have passed the torch of sickness to Jon and he spent most of the day bearing said burden. Today consisted mainly me running some errands, getting food and watching a lot of James Bond. Hoo-Ray.

In lieu of an exciting adventure to report, I think I will just sum up some observations I have been making. First: the old, weird gringos. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot??? Is this the result of some kind of government project going on in the states that we don’t know about? Cause it really seems like there is a big white van traveling around the country picking up all of the “eccentric” (read: oblivious, curmudgeonly, rude and totally unwilling to learn Spanish) geriatric folks, putting them in shipping container and addressing it to San Miguel. Yesterday we saw an older woman walking her tiny dog in a shady park wearing more make-up than a Broadway actress, a terrible bushy wig in pigtails and a house-coat, carrying a miniature Japanese umbrella that didn’t even cover her whole head. We didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Later, we were in a restaurant and I overheard an elderly lady say the following, “Well, I don’t know about you, but I am just so glad that French women are getting fatter!” Again, we had nothing to say to that. As we were leaving the same restaurant, I accidentally knocked over my chair. It made a loud noise and I could tell I had startled a table of nearby retirees. I apologized (even though I hadn’t really done anything to them) and, instead of acknowledging my apology, they ignored me until one of the women launched into a tirade about how she wasn’t going to leave her house anymore. “First the fireworks, then the cars and the dogs, and now this! It is so noisy here!” I almost offered her more noise, but decided against it. I want to get a shirt that says in Spanish, “I’m not with these crazy old gringos!” Seriously, when I left America there were still some normal people there. We are not all like these people. How did they all get here?? And, most importantly, how can I avoid becoming like them when I get old?

Also: the Mexicans seem to know something about family that we, in America, have forgotten. Frequently, I will pass a house and see through an open door a whole family (a dozen or more people) just hanging out. They are all just sitting around laughing or talking. Mexicans seem to have remembered that is ok to relax; better yet, it is important to take a break and be with your family on the regular.

One last observation: Mexican children, by and large, are the cutest little things I have ever seen. It doesn’t matter if they are in their Sunday best or snotty-nosed with ice cream on their faces. They are really adorable. And every so often you catch yourself thinking, “Wow, these kids are good-looking and their Spanish is really good!…Oh wait…”

This entry was posted by jon on Friday, April 14th, 2006 at 1:28 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.