anika in mexico

Happy Birthday Max! You’re 5!

Today was off to a normal start. I’m really settling into a routine here. I got up almost too late for school, which happens when I really get used to a schedule. I managed to get there about 10 minutes early (I’ve been arriving 30-40 minutes before class starts to check email or review my homework). My professor was 5 minutes late, so it was a nice amount of time to relax a bit.

Class was really fun today. We were learning about “esa es la mia” “eso es el tuyo” “esa es la suya” “eso es el nuestro” etc. (this item is mine, that is yours, that is hers, etc.). It was funny because to start the practice, my professor stole my bottle of water. Claiming it as her own, she affirmed, “esa es la mia.” I was rather shocked, and with a swelling, indignant tone I splurt out, “nooo. esa es la miiia!” That was the desired response, and soon enough I caught on to what she was doing, and then we all had great fun stealing each other’s waters, pens, books, papers and erasers, proclaiming them as our own or assigning them to a new owner. We were all laughing with gusto by the end, especially when we looked over and saw Megan clutching her purse on her lap, protecting it from being appropriated by someone else, even for the moment.

I walked out with Megan, and she mentioned that next week she might be meeting with her Israeli Graphic Designer friend for coffee, and that I was free to join them. I think that would be fun if it worked out.

After school I went through my usual routine: supermarket for a few forgotten items and ticket validation (today it cost the same as it would have at the school, so I’ll just park at school next week), bank transaction, then to Starbucks for a venti capuccino and some internet time. I continued my correspondence with my new old friend, got even further addicted to facebook, IMed with a few friends, and just generally wasted some time.

Of course when I wanted to leave, it was raining. Not storming, but it was a steady downpour. I got impatient, so I dashed to my car and got soaked anyway. 30 seconds after I was in the car it stopped raining. I was just in time getting home to join Sigrid for some mole de olla. It was amazing and delicious. It’s basically like a one pot stew. A little spicy with a tasty broth and lots of vegetables and a little meat, accompanied with fresh, hot tortillas. It was perfect, and I probably could have eaten 3 more bowls full, at least in theory.

We were joined by Jenny and Walter. They suggested that I go check out this “Saturday Bazaar” that oddly enough only happens on Saturdays. They even showed me how to get there in my brand new Guia Roji road atlas of Mexico City. Walter even provided me with a few contigency plans in case I missed this or that exit, and a few options for how to return depending on where I end up parking. Should be a fun adventure for a Saturday afternoon.

Jenny mentioned that the other day a woman at her usual produce stand gave her 3 artichokes and told her that if she leaves them out to dry, eventually the center opens up and a beautiful flower blooms from the middle of the dried leaves of the artichoke. Jenny said that she was entirely skeptical, but that today one of them did indeed bloom–a bright purple pincushion that looks incredibly unlikely, but also very beautiful. I was intrigued, and I mentioned that I’d really love to see it, and maybe take a few photo graphs. I arranged to meet Walter at their place at 5 after he’d had a chance to run some errands.

In the mean time Anne (I found out she spells her name this way, pronounced Ah-neh) came back, so I invited her along, and we both headed over to see the unusual blossom together, with a brief stop at a supermarket so she doesn’t have to starve.

Igor, the Alaskan Husky greeted us, and soon we were face to face with the mystery flower. It was indeed unexpected. All the artichoke leaves were dried and shriveled and opened out to the edges, revealing this round purple pincushion of a blossom, about the size of a standard CD. Its two friends still haven’t bloomed, but one of them looks like it could be yellow or orange. The shapes and the textures were very interesting indeed, and I got some great photos of all three. (I seriously mean to add photos to this blog soon; bare with me!).

After staring at the blossom and taking a slew of photos, we went to the backyard so Anne could see the view. It’s really beautiful, even with all the new buildings that have or are popping up.

After the brief visit, we headed back toward the house, stopping at Starbucks for a refreshment and some conversation. It was the third time that day that I’d been in the area, and we even parked in the same spot that we’d occupied when we went to the supermarket.

After Starbuck’s we headed back home where we figured out some plans for night time activities. It’s going to be Mama Rumba’s for some salsa dancing!

I wasn’t feeling great. I wasn’t sick, but my lower back had flared up again. I don’t know exactly why. I hadn’t done anything specific that made it hurt. I thought of a few suspects. It could be my bed (it’s pretty hard and uncomfortable) it could be my new car (perhaps it’s not ergonimic in a good way for me), maybe it’s the chair I’d been sitting on in my room while doing my homework (I finally realized that there was not base support, so the cushion just sags through the hole, offering no real support–this is my main suspect actually. I realized that the other chair in my room does have a nice firm seat base, so I switched immediately, but I’m afraid the damage might already be done).

But I managed to get ready, and by the time Siggy stopped by to pick up Anne and me, I’d just decided to go for it. I’m glad I did, and after drinking some tequila, my back was feeling much better. After a little more tequila, I allowed myself to be dragged out from behind the table onto the dance floor, where Pancho gracefully dealt with my ineptitude. After a shot of straight tequila, I suddenly could dance with no problem, and after another, I was dancing with strangers, whirling and twirling quite convincingly. After a while they played Rigaton, so I could bust out some of my best home-grown hip hop “moves”. (Up until that point they’d had a live band playing great salsa music.) Then they played this song where they sing, “pass the bottle” and so we did just that… passed the bottle of tequila and everyone drank from it.

We stayed until the club closed, finally getthing back in Siggy’s car. We had to take her friend Elsa home. On the way we all ate Principe cookies. Anne and I were dropped off at around 4am.

written on 08.13.2007

I had an really wonderful weekend. Friday zoomed by. Class, then home to meet up with the family for a nice lunch of sopa de flor de calabaza (squash flower soup), chicken enchiladas with salsa verde, frijoles refritos, and a meringue with cream and grapes. On most fridays the whole family gets together to eat and catch up with everyone. I had to eat quickly and then get ready for the weekend away.

Luckily the laundry lady finished washing and drying the clothes I’d started the day before, so I just had to throw a few things in a bag and Karin took me to meet up with Pollo, Pancho and the german girls. We drove together (we three girls squished in the back of Pancho’s Honda Civic Coupe) for an hour to meet up with Siggy and Walter and Saskia in Toluca, where I jumped over to their car for a more spacious comfortable ride.

We arrived at the rancho after dark, but even the outlines of the buildings and trees and walls were familiar to me from the brief afternoon I spent there 8 years ago. Not too much had changed from the last time. The dogs were different colors, there was perhaps a bit more furniture and more colorful decorations, and maybe the electricity was a new feature, but otherwise it was the same cement structures, the same plants, the same rustic getway in the middle of the Mexican countryside.

I helped Siggy get all the beds in order. There were 15 of us the first night, so things were tight to say the least. I slept in a room with 4 other girls: Siggy, the germans, and a girl from Boston who knows Charlie aka Doc. Siggy and the germans in one bed, me on a mattress on the floor, and the boston chick in the bed next to me.

Three guys slept in the entrance room. One on the couch and two shared an airmatress. The two couples on the trip slept in one room–one got the bed, the other the second airmatress. And the rest were upstairs in the last room in some sort of arrangement on cushy things like couch pillows and extra blankets.

Beds made, places assigned, food stowed in the fridge, everyone of course started drinking–Victoria and Corona beer. We congregated upstairs on the open air, covered patio, and watched a storm in the distance. The lightning was quite intense, providing a great show for us. Charlie was trying to snap a shot of the lightning, so I thoguht I’d give it a try too. I had much better luck than he (I do have an SLR and he was working with a purely digital camera), and actually managed to snap a few impressive shots.

Soon the light and the wind and the rain got closer and closer until the storm was right on top of us. I’ve never experienced a storm quite like this one; sure we have strong storms, but this one lasted, in full strength, for hours. Standing on the patio, even about 20 feet back from the edge of the open side, I was still getting pretty damp from the sideways rain. Lightning cracked overhead and the lights in the house went dark. One of the valiant young men on the trip ushered me quickly inside the glass walled room on the same floor.

The lightning and the thunder and the rain just wouldn’t let up. After about 10 minutes Siggy burst in the glass room, exclaiming that the downstairs was flooding! At first we thought she was just being dramatic, but she said she was serious, so I went to see what was happening, and see what I could do. An actual waterfall was falling from upstairs to down through the hole for the stairway that went from the open upper patio down to the enclosed house. The lake was growing. It wasn’t quite totally flooded yet, but it was getting there.

We got all the important stuff out of the way, strategically placed buckets, and started bailing water, but still the water was spreading. The real trouble we realized was that 2 of the guys were going to sleep on the airmatress in the room that the water was trying to take over. While we reasoned that at least they could float on the water, we also agreed it would be better to halt the onslaught, so we grabbed cushions from all the chairs, and someone arranged them around the stairway hole upstairs, in hopes to dam up the river. It worked! But by then the lake had managed to grow from a puddle in the dining room to a minor flood that stretched about halfway into the main entrance where the guys were sleeping, getting their mattress a bit wet. We pushed it over to the dry side, where it was safe for the rest of the weekend.

After stemming the flow, everyone hopped up the stairs, dodged the raindrops and met in the glass room. It was dark except for a few candles, but the conversation was lively and the beer was plentiful. I lasted until 2am talking politics and culture with Chucho before I headed to bed. We were getting an early start in the morning afterall.