anika in mexico

Class was agonizing today. I didn’t want to do anything. Didn’t want to learn, didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to listen, didn’t wanted to check homework. Nothing. Se la vie. It was over soon enough I suppose, then I went over to Starbucks and checked email and so forth.

I had lunch with Sigrid and Siggy which was nice.

After lunch I worked on some patterns and eventually Siggy told me that her mom would pick me up to go to a the concert. I didn’t have an idea about when, so I just kept on working on my pattern, assuming I’d find out one way or another. Eventually Karin came in and asked, “shall we go?” I got ready in less than 10 minutes, but still looked rather sharp.

We met up with Pancho and Carlos, and we all went to a concert of Mexican music played by the Philharmonic Orchestra of the UNAM. It was really amazing. The concert hall itself was incredible. It was designed specifically and only for music performances. No dance, no theatre, just music. The acoustics were near perfect, and it was beautiful to boot.

For the concert itself, there was a guest pianist who was as mesmerizing to watch as to listen to. The audience kept on with the applause and he completed no less than 3 encores.

The second part of the concert was dedicated to contemporary Mexican composers. All 3 composers were present, and I particularly enjoyed the first and last of the three songs. The first was called “Pacifico” and it really captured perfectly the essence of the Pacific Ocean in music form. It was enchanting. The last was a fun Dance song with a lively beat that was just fun to listen to. Of course at the end of the concert, there was yet more standing applause, and at least 2 more encores. It was a long night of great music.

Afterwards we all headed over to a place that makes churros right near the restaurant where I had the crepas with Sigrid for lunch just the day before. This place wasn’t nearly as classy, and service wasn’t that great, but the churros were crispy and sweet, and the hot cocoa was good. I particularly liked dipping the churros into the hot chocolate as is customary. Afterwards we headed back home, and I was asleep a bit after midnight.

I told my professor that I’d left even earlier than the day before, but that I still arrived late. That wasn’t entirely true. I left later, but it still took a long time, though not as long as Monday. Maybe 40 minutes total. I was only 5-8 minutes late for class depending on the clock I checked, but my professor wasn’t there. So I pulled out my laptop and surfed the web a bit. 20 minutes later I was calculating how much time I’d let pass before I left. I decided I’d wait until 10:30. I had the internet to entertain me after all.

But I didn’t have to wait that long. One of the secretaries, who saw me enter the classroom as I walk right by her desk to get to the room, came in and talked to me in fast Spanish. I got the gist that she didn’t want me in that room, but I was more than a little confused overall. Finally she communicated that I was supposed to leave this room and go to another one. I told her that I didn’t know which one, and she told me she’d show me.

So I followed her across the hallway to another room, a mirror image to the one I’d been in, and saw my professor sitting there calmly. She assumed I was just arriving, and had bad luck with traffic. I said that I’d been a little late, but that I’d been waiting for a good 20 minutes. She was rather dismayed to hear that. We were both perplexed about why they secretaries would have let me go in the room in the first place.

She agreed to tack on an extra 20 minutes to class on Thursday to make up for the time. Great. I get an extra long class. Just what I really wanted.

Class went by slowly. My head’s still stuffy and fuzzy so when it came to the conversation part of the class, I literally couldn’t think of anything to say. Even the simplest terms were buried somewhere deep inside. I struggled to talk about my trip to the supermarket and all the things I bought. Not very enlightening conversation to say the least. Mercifully she agreed to stop the conversation and instead do some more activities in the book.

I’m starting to admit to myself that I don’t really like my professor. She’s too serious, too formal, and she doesn’t speak English which is frustrating when I ask her how to say something in Spanish, telling her the English word. She gets the same panicky look on her face that I must get when I’m confronted without warning with a question in Spanish, especially one that I don’t understand.

Today I didn’t know the word for “habit” in Spanish, so I asked her, “como se dice ‘habit’ en espanol. Blank panic looked back at me. She admitted she didn’t know what I was even saying. So I describe circuitously, “una cosa que se hace muchos veces y no es facil a pararse.” “Ah!” she responded. “Un habito!” (pronounced “ah-bee-toh) “no entendi la pronuncion.” Der. Habit, habito. Doesn’t seem like it would be too hard to remember. And how can you be that thrown off by the pronunciation of something? Anyway, that’s how it goes everytime I ask the translation of any word from English to Spanish. She just kind of flounders around a bit, and sometimes comes up with the answer.

After class I went right to Starbucks to meet Megan for coffee. After the struggle through the desert that is my class, talking with Megan was a much needed oasis. I haven’t had such an interesting, fast-paced conversation with someone in a long time. Now that I think about it, I probably talked most of the time, but I needed to speak freely and fluently for once. I didn’t have to alter my pace or over enunciate, either in Spanish or in English, to make myself understood. I didn’t have to simplify ideas, or circuitously describe a simple term because of my limited Spanish vocabulary. It was really fun. Megan and I get along well, and we both have interesting things to say, plus we can relate to each other in a way that I haven’t been able to with anyone else I’ve met here yet.

After a couple of hours Megan headed out, but I stayed behind to catch up with internet things and to learn some more PHP.

I headed home at 4pm. I told Sigrid that I’d not be around for lunch, so I had all the time in the afternoon that I wanted. Still by 4 I was hungry and tired of computing, so I went home to get something to eat and to do something different.

I made myself a sandwich with salami, cheese, tomato, and mustard. It was really good. Afterwards I ate one piece of orange chocolate that Sigrid had bought me.

I spent the afternoon/evening finishing up the pattern I’d started yesterday and doing my homework. My professor only gave me a few pages to do. I think she had sympathy for my stuffiness.

I ate dinner with Sigrid. When I went to join her in her little sitting room she was listening to Heino. I walked in and exclaimed, “Heino!” A look of utter bewilderment struck her face. “How could you possibly know Heino?” she asked. I told her that my mom was a fan because they used to listen to Heino a lot in Germany (go figure). She was then equally surprised that my mom would like Heino. She kept remarking how amazed she was by the fact all throughout dinner.

We ate hotdogs. She bought the hotdogs specifically because she was sure that I would love to eat hotdogs. At times I really do enjoy a good hotdog, and these were pretty good ones. Reina put good toppings on them too–onion, tomato, pickles and mustard. I’m amused by the things Sigrid is sure I will like, and the stuff that she thinks I don’t like. If she could only truly understand that I’ll pretty much eat any food made for me, and be very happy with it! If only life were always that easy!

But yes, the hot dog was good. I liked it a lot.

Listened to a bit more German folk music after dinner. This time it was some other guy I’d never heard of (probably the reaction she would have expected for Heino). She had fun playing her favorite songs for me on the CD, singing along with gusto to each one, and saying “listen, listen, this is really so great” before the start of the chorus.

After a few songs we were both ready for bed. German folk music will do that to you.

First day of September! I can’t believe I’ve been here for more than a month without even realizing it! Time is really flying. I guess that means I’m having fun!

Yesterday when Pancho was over we decided that he’d take me and maybe Anne and Leonie on a tour around the UNAM. I woke up pretty late–had breakfast at almost 11am.

He called shortly thereafter, and we decided to meet at his place at noon or 12:30. Luckily Anne woke up. I told her the plans and she was glad to come along. It was somewhat short notice, so Leonie didn’t want to rush to get ready, so decided not to come along.

I got vague directions from someone at Siggy’s office. Pancho clarified them for me so that I could actually arrive at his house and not just near it. Anne and I were off! We got on the Periferico Sur (which is one of the maine highways in the city. It was initially designed to go around the city, much like a beltway, but they didn’t even complete the loop, and now the city is so much bigger that it’s actually right in the middle of it!). Or at least we thought we were on the Periferico Sur. Turns out we had actually managed to get onto the Viaducto Aleman which heads out to the airport. I saw a sign for the Periferico early on, so I wasn’t concerned with all the signs for the airport, confident that we were on the right road. Turns out the sign I saw that said “Periferico” on the first bridge we passed under was actually the indication that we were crossing under it. Doh!

We nearly got to the airport. Made really good time though. Unfortunately it wasn’t where we wanted to go. So following a dash of intuition and a smidge of memory, I started driving in the direction of “back home”. Turns out the random turns and exits I chose were right, getting us back onto the Viaducto, back towards the Periferico. I followed the signs, and with a few very last minute daring swerves onto exits, we made it back onto Periferico Sur. After that, it was really easy to get to Pancho’s house. It’s probably only about a 10 minute drive from my house, but with our little detour, it was a total of about an hour.

Pancho drove us over to UNAM and began our tour. Most of the tour was by car since the campus is so big. On the first section of the tour we saw the main research campus and the sports fields, and the stadium (which was the Olympic stadium in ‘68). Our first stop was by the arts center of the campus. They have several theaters, each serving a specific purpose. There’s a theatrical hall, a auditorium for musical performances, one for dance performances, as well as a movie theater which features interesting independent movies, documentaries, art films, etc. We walked over to the archives building around which the sculpture garden offers quiet places to sit and contemplate the art. I saw the famous sculpture “Tlaloc” by Sebastian which is a great big metal structure that looks like a folded up card or piece of paper with cutouts. At one angle, the cut outs look like hearts, but at every other angle, it’s quite abstract. I also saw the big pink “crown” of the sculpture garden, and I climbed up it a bit.

We made it to the big black “grasshopper” sculpture and then it started raining. We walked back toward the car, and it started raining a bit harder. Just as we got back into the car it really started pouring, but we were all still pretty well soaked by then. Luckily I seem to have the habit of bringing an extra shirt with me wherever I go, so I was able to change, and I also had my rain jacket with me in the car.

Pancho thought we might just do the rest of the tour in the car. He showed us the buildings for all the different faculties on campus. Biology, Psychology, Geology, Nuclear Science, Engineering (his major), Architecture, Dentistry, Medicine, etc. They really have every major that you can think of. After we passed the pool, he decided that indeed we would walk around again, rain or no rain. We parked and then walked over to the main quad in the center of campus. It’s really big, circled by all kinds of building for all kinds of departments. We walked by the engineering building where he has most of his classes. The sidewalks are anything but even, and they seem to have no drainage, so there were lots of significant puddles that we tried to dodge, though not very successfully. My feet were soaked down to the toes.

Then it stopped raining and the sun came out. It became rather hot and humid. That with the wet feet felt icky, but I still had a good time walking around. We walked over to the medical building that Anne was interested in seeing (she’s studying nursing). There is one of the famous murals on campus on the side of the building. I always think it’s cool to see stuff in person that I’ve learned about beforehand.

Then we walked over to the main library to see one of the other famous murals. This one covers each of the 4 sides of the building and apparently represents the evolution of society or something like that. Then we walked over to look at the murals on the architecture building. Eventually we made our way back to the car.

We stopped by the stadium on the way back to take a photo of yet another mural (this one by Diego Rivera), before heading out to find something to eat. We had sushi. Mexican sushi is good, but rather different. They have lots of tasty, unusual combinations. I had one roll with crab avocado and cucumber with fried carrot “crispies” and chipolte sauce.

We decided that we’d all meet up later and go out to this place called La Something del Something. Pancho kept saying the name, and I kept listening carefully, but I just couldn’t catch it. We of course left late, plus then we had to pick up Leonie. I felt guilty calling Pancho a half hour after we were supposed to be there to tell him that we were just leaving, plus had to pick up Leonie and get gas. Some how I used my super navigation powers of intuition, vague memory, and guesses and I got to Leonie’s house very efficiently on the first try. Getting on the Periferico Sur from her house proved to be just as elusive as the first time. After many twists and turns, signs that lead us no where, and at least one major pothole scare, we somehow managed to get back on the Perisur and were then soon at the bar (where we agreed to meet Pancho instead of at his house; a concession to our lateness). I made an illegal U-turn on Insurgentes, but when I saw the sign for the bar I was like, “oh that’s it!” La Something del something is actually La Bodeguita del Medio, a cuban bar that serves top-notch mojitos, and sporadically plays Cuban music when the servers remember to load a new CD and press play. They also had a live band, but I think you had to pay them to play, so they only did a few songs.

I was feeling pretty out of it to be honest, but I managed to stick with the group even though the thought of being in my bed at that point was like heaven. The group decided to go to “Berlin”. A bar that specializes in delicious german beer. Once we got there (I think I only went down one one-way street, although I almost went down a few others until my friends in the car warned me not to just in time) Anne really didn’t like the place. She was really weird about it though. She kept looking at me pointedly saying, “this place is so weird. Do you like it? Do you want to go somewhere else?” I knew she wanted me to say that I wanted to go somewhere else, but I don’t play that game, so I just said, “I don’t really mind it. It’s not the greatest atmosphere in the world, but I wouldn’t mind having a good beer.” To which she’d give shoot a little grimace at me. Then a few moments would lapse and she’d start her little attempt at manipulation again. Finally she did it while all the guys were hovering around, if not intently listening, but trying to figure out if they should grab a table or not. I just shot back at her, “Anne, do you like it here?” To which she responded, “no.” and I was like, “would you like to go somewhere else?” to which she replied, “yeah,” so I looked up and over at Jim and said, “Anne would like to go somewhere else. She doesn’t love the atmosphere here.”

So we moved on to another place just down the block this one was a bonafide club that even had a live cover band that kept the crowd dancing and singing along. The thing to do in Mexico City is to buy a bottle of liquor at a club so that you can also get a table to go with it. We paid $80 for a bottle of vodka with sprite and we got a tiny table with four chairs front and center of the stage.

I had a really hard time getting into the swing of things. I was a little out of it (now pretty sure I’m getting sick) and a little grumpy and frustrated with the night. At one point Jim pointedly told me that he felt like I wasn’t having a good time, and it really distressed him. I tried to explain to him that I thought I was coming down with something, that my back had been bugging me for a while, so I didn’t want to get to crazy, that I was ok with what I was doing, but he never seemed to understand a single thing I said.

Eventually he wandered off and I was left to sit again in peace, but then a few minutes later Jim’s cousin’s friend (I think his name might have been Roberto) came over to me and offered me his hand. I thought he was asking me to give him something, so I kind of looked behind me before I realized that he was asking me to dance. A gentleman!

It was toward the end of the song, and the dance floor was incredibly crowded, so all we could do was just kind of shuffle around and knock into our neighbors, but he managed to spin me once as the song ended. I thought it was quite nice of him, even if it was a set-up. After that I was on my feet and dancing with Roberto had been fun, so I continued dancing, mostly just dancing around in a big group. They mostly played pop music with a few Mexican songs here and there. I can’t remember a single song they played except for the dance medley from Grease.

The band eventually came on for a second time and this time they played a lot of ballads. Crowd pleasers for sure, but not so danceable, so I slowly came down off my dancing high and resumed a slightly grumpy attitude. It was 4am by then, and I was just plain tired. Still I hung in there. I stood or sat and watched the band play which was pretty cool. The main guitarist had an absolutely incredible voice, and although everything they played was a cover, they were indeed talented musicians.

All night the music was very loud. My ears were muffled and ringing afterwards. Perhaps that was due to the fact that our table was right in front of the speakers on the stage and that we didn’t leave the club until 5am. True, we didn’t even arrive there until 2am, so we weren’t in the club for too long, but it was so late! I’m really not used to such late nights/early mornings, but apparently they are the norm for a night out in Mexico City.

I was in bed by 6am.

I woke up early this morning: 6:45am, in order to call mum again. Last night at somepoint it suddenly hit me that Kasi was having her surgery today (to get spayed) and I didn’t know if mum knew about the certificate that I had from the humane society. It was a good thing I called, because indeed she didn’t know about it, but with my vague recollections of where it might be, she was able to find all the paperwork.

I went back to bed and snoozed for a half an hour before getting up.

No hot water.

I really thought about not taking a shower, but it was really necessary, and I knew I’d be happy and awake when it was over. I gritted my teeth and tried not to think about the cold water that coursed over my body. I managed to get mostly clean, and I was right, I did feel better when I was done, even though my teeth were chattering and I was prickly with goosebumps.

Not only was I frozen, it was drizzly and gray outside (the hurricane had started to move over the city), so I dressed in cozy clothes.

The rain did one good thing: cleared up traffic. It took me all of 10 minutes to get to school today. The other day it took me 40.

Take was present in class today, but again it seemed more casual than usual. Maybe because it’s coming to an end and we’ve learned all the main topics we need to know? Again it was mostly a day of conversation and clarification. My profesora actually gave me a really nice compliment.

She’d suggested that we don’t say, “no hablo espanol!” but instead to say, “hablo un poco de espanol” or “hablo espanol basico”. A few minutes later I asked a question which lead to the comment. She said that she doesn’t think I have just a basic level of Spanish, but that I lack confidence in speaking. She noticed that most of the ideas I communicate are fairly complex and complete, even if I don’t know every word as I explain my thoughts.

I was pleased to hear the compliment, and when I think about it, she’s probably right. I did take 4 years of Spanish in high school and another semester in college. Most of the grammar we were learning, I remembered that I’d had before, but I just couldn’t recall every intricacy of every rule. When I started the class, I knew it would be good for me to review everything, but until then, I felt like I was in the “right level”. It was definitely a boost to hear her opinion.

I got home and it was still raining thanks to the hurricane. I followed Jenny to her house to have lunch with her and Sigrid. Walter offered me a tequila. How could I refuse? For the meal we had taquitos that were crispy, moist, delicious and addictive. I again tried ate (pronounced ah-tay), this time made from guava. It was better than the kind we had made from quince at Karin’s one time, but it was still too sweet for my taste. This time they offered it with cheese, which was better, but I think I’d prefer just cheese.

My back was bugging me, but I managed to get through lunch. When we got home, I got a call from Siggy who conferenced me with Carlos. He and Karen were going to a Jazz concert at the Museo Tamayo and I was invited to join them. It was 5:45 and the concert started at 6:30. I got ready to go in 10 minutes. Sigrid had suggested that I take a taxi rather than driving down there and having to deal with parking. I called the taxi stand. They didn’t have a taxi available, but said they’d send on in 10-15 minutes. So I waited. Next time I looked at the clock it was 6:30! So I called Siggy for advice, and she said that I should just drive since there was a parking lot near the museum. So I decided to drive. And I entered the traffic that itself resembled a parking lot. Nothing was moving. It took me 20 minutes just to go 4 blocks. I could have walked there faster. I decided to give up. It just seemed impossible. I called Carlos who said that if I could, I should still come since the concert didn’t start until 7:30. I was skeptical, so I said I’d just go home. But then I called Siggy and she laughed when I told her the way that I’d tried to go. She gave me the directions for an easier “back way” and her assurance that I could still make it by 7:30. So I called Carlos to say that we were back on!

Once I got through the traffic muck around my neighborhood and got to the “back way” Siggy had recommended, things cleared right up and I was at the museum withing 20 minutes total! I was even early for the concert, so I found Carlos and Karen and got to catch the tail end of the guided tour of the art in the museum.

Eventually we made our way to the concert area where they had free wine and beer. I opted for the free red wine. I should have gone for the white. Bad white wine is usually better than bad red. Actually I should have gone for the Corona. They can’t mess that up.

The concert started, and my expectations weren’t too high. I don’t proclaim to be a jazz enthusiast, follower, enjoyer or afficionado. I’d even say that I don’t like jazz if given the option. But this jazz was ok. It was very melodic and the musicians were really having fun playing. Plus the music was infused with Latin beats, so the overall effect pleased me. My favorites were the few Bossa-Nova-esque songs.

After the concert Carlos and Karen walked with me back to my car, and we agreed to meet the next day at the Frida Khalo museum in San Angel. I got back in my car and headed back home. By then the streets were totally clear everywhere.

Throughout the evening, my back was really hurting, but I’m glad I made it. I was home by 9pm and I hadn’t eaten, but the rest of the house was dark! I fixed myself a sandwich and ate by myself in the breakfast room. In my room I edited some photos, caught up with my journal and finally got to bed very late.

written on 08.13 and 08.14.2007

I fell right asleep, and only was awoken once briefly when Santiago, who was sleeping on the air matress right outside the paper thin door that separated my bedroom from the main entrance room, started screaming his head off. It sounded as though he was being murdered in his sleep. Of course we all tried to ignore him at first (he’s prone to a bit of drama on a regular basis).

Well, turns out he actually was being attacked. By a puppy. We got to make lots of fun of him for it later in the morning when we all finally got up. He would push the puppy off him, but of course the pup thought this was play, so he’d jump right back on his head and start licking him furiously, until pushed off again, so that he could hop on Santiago’s head again. Each time the puppy pounced, Santiago would let out a startled scream followed by sleepy, angry, incoherent, Spanish mumbling.

Finally Siggy got up and grabbed the puppy to let him outside, and everyone was soon able to drift back to sleep.

I was awoken by the Killers singing when someone called my phone (I’m borrowing one of Siggy’s phones while I’m here, and all the menus are in Spanish so I don’t know how to change anything). I sleepily grabbed for the phone and was pleasantly surprised to hear my mom say, “Anika?” I told her to hold on a sec, lest everyone get rudely awoken in the house for the second time that morning, and I groggily stumbled out onto the front terrace.

I spoke with her briefly as the call was costly for the both of us, but it was good to hear her voice and assure her that everything was really going great. While on the phone I woke up a bit, and was able to appreciate the beauty of the morning. All traces of the storm, except the damp ground, were gone. The sun shone brilliantly, the dew sparkling in the morning light. In front of me stretched out an incredible vista over looking the valley and orchareds and meadows and sheep grazing in the background.

I actually turned around and lay back down in bed for a split second before coming to my senses. I hopped right back up, put my shoes on and took a walk around the area, soaking up the amazing morning. Ana (the friendly german girl; now I know who’s who) came along, as well as Zeus, the ranch puppy that Teocrito adores, and who loves to attack Santiago’s head in the wee small hours.

The ground was really soggy, so I didn’t get too far before my shoes were soaked, but it was great to amble around in the sun and really be present to the quiet of the country.

Back at the ranch house, I asked if I could take a shower, and they managed to get the hot water heater lit so that I had chilly water instead of freezing water to bathe with. Clean and fresh, I gobbled down the breakfast Saskia made (juevos con jamon y queso y pan ((eggs with ham and cheese and a roll))). Soon everyone who was going to Taxco was ready, and we hopped into 2 cars for the 1 hour + ride. On the day trip went Siggy, me, Charlie, his Boston friend, Pancho, Ana and Leoni (the other, quieter German).

The drive to Taxco was incredible. We wound our way over mountains with treacherous curves and drop offs. We sped (sort of sped, they have lots of speed bumps all over Mexico, some with little or no warning, so you really have to be careful) through valleys where they grow the all the flowers sold in Mexico City and those for Dia de Los Muertos. We passed many small restaurants and vendors, and stopped briefly for a Jugo de Coco (fresh young coconut juice).

The guy running the stand wore a cowboy had and wielded a machete, deftly lopping off just enough of the top of the coconut to expose the soft inner mantle, but not piercing it, so the juice wouldn’t spill on the ground. He then cut a small hole in the exposed coconut meat, inserted a straw and voila! Fresh coconut juice. We all sipped merrily, and of course took a few touristy shots of ourselves drinking from the green coconut husks. When the drink was empty, if we wanted, we could ask the vendor to cut open the coconut and scoop out the meat. He would then put it in a bag and you could sprinkle lime, chili, salt, sugar, or whatever you wanted over the coconut, and then have a tasty treat. I took mine just with some lime and munched it happily as we continued our drive.

Shortly after the coconut stop, I spied my first real live Burro (donkey, jackass, etc.)! I love donkeys for some inexplicable reason. It was Siggy who pointed it out to me, aware of my fondess for the creatures. After that, each time anyone in the car saw one they’d cry out “donkey!” as we passed. I saw dark brown ones, light gray ones, and every shade in between. Each one was always right on the side of the road, tethered to a tree or fence to graze. Seems a little dangerous for the donkey, but I supposed it works since so many of them do it. As we were driving through one little town I actually saw 2 donkeys loaded up with wood being led by their keepers down the hill along the side of the road. It was so cool to see donkeys in action.

As the road got steeper and windier and more exciting, Siggy mentioned that we were nearing Taxco. We entered a toll road, and within a minute or so we go our first view of the city. The buildings encrust the entire side of the mountain. Most are white or light brown with red roofs, but what really stood out to me were the regular black squares of all the windows that seemed to mournfully witness our approach to the city, blankly and unfalteringly gazing back at us. As picturesque as the scene, and indeed the city, was, I couldn’t help but feel like I was being watched, and not in an entirely approving way.

Soon we were swallowed up by the city limits, churning down little crooked roads and alleys, up and down steep inclines, making our way to the center of the city. Parking was tricky to say the least, but eventually both cars were safely, if not awkwardly parked. Siggy’s car was stationed in front of an old, defunct horse drawn carriage, assigned the spot by an official attendant, looking after the cars that circled the main plaza. Pancho’s car was parked backward in what looked to me like a back entrance to a store, but I suppose he’d gotten permission to park there as well.

First stop was the church where we found ourselves a tour guide who explained about the history of the church, how it was built and from what, and about the decorative aspects inside, including the paintings and carvings on the altars.

There were a couple of “unusual” paintings that showed themes that were very uncommon. One portrayed the Virgin Mary, pregnant, big belly and all. Another dipicted the circumsion of Christ. Several others were rather violent, and then there was a room with portraits of important people from the town including the Bordas and the namesake of the town who was born in Taxco and gained fame as a comic writer in Spain.

After the tour our guide mentioned a silver coop that he belonged to, and he could show us where it was. There were 27 small stalls all selling silver jewelry. We were escorted back to “his stall” where his daughter was tending the stand. We were told that because he brought us here, we would receive a 10% discount on anything we bought. Later I found out that he actually gets a commission from the sales from the people he brings, and that anyone who wandered in off the street would probably get the same “special discount”. Be that as it may, there was really a good selection of jewelry, and I made my first purchases here, including one “splurge” for a bracelet that was made of circles wrapped in silver wire. Because it was worked differently, the wire was actually a purer silver than 92.5, or at least so I was told.

Next we kept walking down the crooked, steeply inclined road to check out several outside vendors that were selling anything but silver. Colorful fiber mats, colorful painted coconut masks, colorful stone beads, colorful purses made from grass or recycled candy wrappers. I looked over the stands a bit, but I was really there for one thing: silver.

As we meandered along, one of us would pop into one of the many silver shops, and the rest of us would follow. We found one other store where there was some really nice pieces, but this time I made a mental note and decided I could come back if I wanted to. Our walk led us back to the main plaza where we all agreed that a chance to sit and have a refresco would be very welcome. We went into one of the little courtyards off the main square, and were soon enjoying our drink of choice. I ordered an iced latte, which came frozen rather than over ice. I don’t usually go for frapuccinos, but it looked good, so I kept it. I was quickly reminded why I don’t usually drink frozen drinks anymore. I got some serious brain freeze because I always drink those things too fast regardless of their temperatures.

After a while of sitting, I got restless as there were some very enticing little silver shops all around the breezy courtyard. I got up and went into one that was decorated like a cave, rough walls and rock-formation tables and all. Everything was white-washed though, setting off the silver very nicely. The store really had some great variety, but was by no means cheap. Some of the bracelets were a bit heaftier, but their prices started at about $50USD, and I’d already seen similar ones for between $15-$30USD. There was a pendant that I decided to keep in mind for possible purchase. It was $20USD at the shop, and I found it at a smaller store for only $10USD. *score*!

Pancho remembered a place that was like a whole market with lots of little vendors but wasn’t exactly sure where it was. We asked so many people, who all seemed clueless, but had their own suggestion about where we could go find “good deals”. Finally we asked our parking attendant, and he steered us in the right direction. When we arrived, it was after 5pm, and unfortunately many of the stalls were already starting to pack up for the day. Still there were many to browse, and I got a really good deal on a set of silver bangles and several pairs of nice big silver earrings for about $8-$11USD each.

After getting home I read up a bit about Taxco and its silver and learned that it’s not uncommon to purchase items that aren’t exactly made of silver. Apparently if you discover that something is marked 92.5, but actually it’s not, it’s technically a jailable offense, but often it’s difficult to prove where the item was from anyway. After reading that I inspected some of my purchases, and I’m a little suspicious about some of them, but even so, I’m still happy with everything I got.

Final purchases made, we decided to take the cable car up to Monte Taxco, a big resort hotel that has a decent restaurant with an extraordinary view of the city from the terrace where we got a table. Lucky too that we were there Saturday because that’s the day that they have a buffet, and that Saturday’s theme was Mexican food, so I got to sample a lot of different dishes.

After dinner a Trio band (they are the ones that sing sweet soft Mexican love songs) started playing inside, eventually making their way to the terrace where they serenaded us with a lovely song about Palomas (doves). Below the terrace was a large patio that stretched to the ample swimming pool. Down there another band set up, and started playing before our trio band had finished our serenade. It was the battle of the Mexican bands. Unfortunately the other band played “Banda” music which is very loud and lively, so if I had to guess I’d say they won the battle. Yet still it was a great, truly Mexican experience to be enveloped by the cacophony of the two bands with two very different styles playing at the same time.

After the music subsided we decided to make our way back to the car. Since the cable cars stopped running at 7pm and it was now nearing 9pm, we had to take a taxi to the bottom of the mountain. What a harrowing ride. 3 of us piled into a little Vocho taxi and we were soon barrelling down some of the steepest inclines I’d seen in the city. We swooped around near 360 degree turns, also set at steep angles. I would have been afraid to ski down the road at an easy pace. In the bumpy back seat of the taxi, no seatbelts, and no driver side seat in front of me to provide even a false sense of security (they remove the driver seat in Vocho taxis for easy access to the back since Vochos only have 2 doors), we some how made it safely to our car. I was glad to climb back into the back of Siggy’s Jetta (pronounced “Yetta” here). It was spacious, there was a seatbelt, and also her seat firmly in front of me.

We made it back to the ranch in about an hour. I joined everyone who’d gathered in the kitchen for a few beers. We listened to Chucho retell many of the infamous tales they’d all gathered together over the years. They were pretty interesting, but after a while, I just wanted to go to sleep. I’d had a long day in the sun, walking around, and shopping; quite exhausting work. But Chucho kept talking. I suppose after a while my answers and comments were maybe a little less encouraging or friendly (which is what happens when I get tired), but certainly not antagonistic. Yet Chucho voiced concern that he’d said something wrong and wondered what happened. I was just like, no dude, it’s ok, I’m just tired. And then he told another story. Finally I was able to break away at about 3am, and I fell like a log into bed and stayed slept like one until sometime when it was light out.