anika in mexico

I woke up somewhat late, around 10am. I ate breakfast with Sigrid, and then I cleaned up my room a bit. I left for a walk around 11:30 or so. I went 4 times around the lake, and was awarded with some minor blisters from the semi-new sandals I was wearing. It was an incredibly beautiful day. There are some murmurings that the rainy season might be at its end. I sure hope that’s true because I could really get used to these mild yet very sunny days.

I went to Starbucks and chatted with some friends online and worked on my journals. I got back late–at 3:30 for the family dinner. Everyone was already finished their soup and enjoying some sopes. I explained that I’d lost track of time, and was very sorry. Their response, “ah don’t worry, just means you’re becoming Mexican!”

After dinner I got ready for Liza and Pollo’s birthday party. They just started dating a month or so ago and they have the same birthday. How cute.

Chucho said he’d pick me up at 4:30, but for one reason or another, he finally showed up at 6:30. We headed down toward the south to Liza’s house. We turned off the main road onto streets that were paved with stone, and not very well maintained. Chucho’s poor car had a tough time with it, but we eventually made it to our destination.

The boys went to go get some chelas (beers) and cigarettes (I’m still so amazed about how many people here smoke. I’d say at least 80-90% of the people at the party were smoking). I stayed and chatted with Liza and her friend Elsa. They were both really nice and easy to talk to; something that I’ve found can be rather rare here.

For example, later in the evening I was playing billiards with an architect named Julian, and I won! He got one of his friends to play with me, and the guy was totally kicking my butt. He was solids, and very soon the table looked very stripey. One of his friends (a girl named Andi) came over to him and asked if he was the one winning. When he said yes, she was like “oh good” and made it known that she’d play the next game. I thought, well maybe she’s just happy for her friend and also would like to play. On his last shot, going for the 8 ball in the corner pocket, not only did he miss, he also scratched, so I automatically won.

I looked at the girl who appeared a little surprised and stunned that her friend had suddenly lost. As I was getting all the balls back on the table, assuming that she and I would play next, she quickly made herself scarce. At first I didn’t believe what seemed to be happening. But then all her friends also avoided eye contact, and I realized I was without another player. I’d love to write about only great experiences that I have here in Mexico, but the truth is, sometimes things aren’t so great. Sometimes they are shitty. Well this made me feel pretty shitty. Embarrassed, finding myself rejected by these people, I slinked off into the other room where my “friends” were.

Not to say that the night was all bad. At one point earlier on in the night, I was on a couch in the sitting room, surrounded by people having lively conversations, feeling the isolation of my own private little island of “i only really speak english”. As I sipped my vodka tonic, I fell deeper and deeper into my self pity. I really thought that if someone would ask me if I was ok, I’d start crying. I thought about going to the bathroom to compose myself, but I was stuck. I didn’t want to move, didn’t want to do anything. I just wanted to sit and feel sad.

Well, I guess this one girl noticed that I was just kind of sitting staring off into space, so she came over and said, “que divertido, eh?” and we both laughed. I thought she was very brave for coming over, admitting that her English wasn’t that good. Then of course we continued to have a conversation together in near perfect English. Ha. After a while she got tired, so we switched to Spanish. It was fun, and she was really nice and interesting to talk to.

After that I went over to refresh my drink, and that’s when I first met Julian. We actually talked mostly in Spanish. Just a few words that I didn’t know I’d say in English, and sometimes he’d re-explain something in English when I hadn’t quite caught the Spanish version. After a while I sensed he was getting a little bored with our conversation (I do speak rather slowly and simply I suppose), so he suggested that we play billiards. We all know how that turned out, but even so, it was nice to talk to someone new for a while.

After the billiards incident, I ate some more tacos. All in all I had 6 tacos that night, which is really a lot, but they were really good.

Chucho and I left at around 3:30 and he dropped me off by 4am. He said that he’s going to pick me up at 9pm to go see his friend’s band play. I told him, we’ll see.

Today was the day of parties. It’s the eve of the Mexican Independence day, so everyone gets into a festive mood.

Before party time (2pm) I spent the early afternoon finishing up a pattern, and was ready just at 2pm, but of course everyone else was late. But soon people were arriving. I met my grandmother’s brother, his wife, all his children, and their children! He’s really great too, and he looks so much like my grandmother, it’s funny. I was really blown away by how easy going and friendly everyone is. Each of the kids, Gerardo, Walter, and Ani, all invited me to meet up with them again.

Walter is trained as an industrial designer, and now has a photo studio. I showed him the stuff I’ve been working on (at Karin’s prompting), and he and his wife were both very interested in what tools I used to make the patterns. I showed them the markers I use, and they were impressed. They’ve invited me to visit to check out their studio and also see their work (his wife, Angeles, is also an artist who does a lot of photo collage).

Ani invited me to come visit her in Toluca, and Gerardo also invited me to their house at somepoint.

After the delicious lunch of Mole de Ollo (a tasty soup with lots of stuff in it), we all played some card games which was great fun. We played “Cucharas” which is a great game for a large group of people. You constantly pass one card to your right and the goal is to get 4 of a kind. If and when you do, you have to discreetly take one of the spoons (there is one less spoon than there are people). If you notice that someone has taken a spoon, you also take one, and the one left without a spoon has to sing a song. It was really hilarious. Especially because I discovered that I know the german song “O Tannenbaum!” and the Mexican song, “La Cucuracha” better than my own National Anthem. Ah well.

Overall I also enjoyed the party because I spoke only in Spanish, and was able to understand and be understood very well.

Everyone left by 8pm, but that was by no means the end of the night for me. I had to run to the Supermarket and get “botanas” which is basically appetizers/snacks for the party at Fernandos. Saskia agreed to pick me up at 9pm, so I didn’t have too much time to get ready. But I painted my eyes with bright green eyeshadow, donned my brightest red t-shirt, wore my white pants, my dingy green camo tennis shoes, and of course red lipstick. Red Green and White in honor of the Mexican Independence Day.

I arrived and Carlos was going to make me a Paloma which is basically a tequila with Squirt, but then Pancho insisted, no, I’d be better off just having a straight tequila, with a lime on the side. So that’s what I drank. And then I had another, and a little while later another. Then everyone had a shot together, and then Siggy wanted to a shot with me “al fondo” or “to the floor/bottom”–theoretically of the glass, but it almost had the more literal effect on me because after that, then I was drunk.

I had a lot of fun though. I danced a lot with Santiago, learned a little Russian from Fernando’s dad (he actually told me you could make any word Russian by adding “uski” or “iski” or “aski” to the end of it. I was speaking perfect Russian within 10 minutes), who also assembled a tostada especially for me, played with Fernando’s dog Rex, laughed a lot, took a lot of silly pictures, ate a lot of cheese and Rancherito chips, passed out on the couch for a bit, and then woke back up to chat with Pancho, Chucho and the German girls.

Chucho drove me and the Germans home and I got to bed by 4:30am.

I had a hard time sleeping last night, as I thought I might. First off, I just had trouble getting to sleep. Secondly, the other guests who are now staying here (a woman from Cancun and her niece) went out at night and didn’t get back until 3am, making lots of noise when they arrived.

I woke up at my scheduled time and made it to school in only 20 minutes! Karin had told me another way to go, and it was a lifesaver.

I wasn’t really looking forward to class, but I was there. My professor came in and I told her that I hadn’t done my homework, which wasn’t a big deal. So instead we went over my exam. I got an 88% on it. One thing was her mistake, so I actually got a 90%, but whatever. Honestly I didn’t care about the grade. What I did, and still do care about is her method for “correcting” me. I think I’ve mentioned it before, but she doesn’t correct my mistakes. Instead, she tells me which one is wrong, and then waits for me to miraculously come up with the right answer. If I’ve gotten it wrong, obviously there is something I don’t quite understand, and I’ve never suddenly been struck by the right answer under her pressure.

So it went on like that for each question. And then the questions I had about why it was wrong (to me some of them seemed ok, like not totally wrong, even if it wasn’t what she was looking for), she would get confused about, and just explain what she’d already told me, which was useless.

And so since I was tired, hadn’t been feeling well all week, include this morning, and was growing increasingly frustrated, I felt tears wanting to push their way through my tear ducts. I didn’t want to cry in front of her, and since I was growing increasingly testy, I suddenly, in the middle of an exercise in the work book, declared that I needed a break, and I went down to the bathroom to compose myself.

I blew my nose, and let myself cry a little bit for 10 seconds. Then I got myself together, and headed back upstairs.

My teacher might inadvertently be a bitch, but she’s not stupid and she’s not unfeeling.

She sensed that something was wrong. Then of course she asked me to talk about it, and then of course, I started crying right in class right in front of her. She said that she understood how hard it is for extranjeros in another country, and she knew that it had been a hard week for me–terrible traffic, not feeling well, the confusion about the classroom change, plus the fact that I’m the only person in the class which also can be stressful. She went on and on about the morning when the secretaries hadn’t told me that my classroom had changed, instead letting me sit in an empty room for 20 minutes. I think that incident really upset my professor more than me. So as she came up with all these reasons why I was upset, I just nodded along. In retrospect, I really should have just told her that it’s very hard for me when she doesn’t just correct my mistakes but drags it out waiting for me to self-correct. But my defenses were up, and my mindset at the time, and perhaps still, is just to get through the class as easily as possible.

The ultimate result of all this is that on Monday I get to have a half an hour with the other class to have conversation with some other “young people” which was one of her other reasons for me being upset–that I didn’t have other young people to talk to in the class. Whatever, at least it’ll be a change of pace. She also said that we can leave the classroom one day and walk around or have a coffee somewhere and just have conversation.

I was more than relieved when the class was over, and now there’s only another week and a half left! Actually less, only a week and 2 days! Plus I’m skipping on Tuesday to go see Siggy talk at a conference. So that’s only 6 more days of class!

After class I went to Gigante (a supermarket near my school) to look in vain for more Brita filters. I did get a few other necessities like cactus fruit, avocados, hair conditioner, and mini-coca-colas.

Then I came home and made a little collage while waiting for Karin to go have lunch at her house. She was already here at my house, but talking to Sigrid for a while. We left at 2:30–I followed her. She’s a whiz on the roads. Whenever there was the slightest bit of congestion, she’s swerve onto some side street where we’d be traffic free for a while.

We ate with Siggy too. We had corn soup and Mexican “fast” food–Fried chicken breasts, rice and beans. It was quite good. For some dessert we had Galletas Marias with Cajeta.

Karin had to go soon after lunch, but I stayed and hung out with Sigs for a while. Then we left to go look for a fondue set, check out a craft store, and get supplies for the fondue party later that night.

Saskia met us when we went to the craft shop. It really was very crafty, and almost entirely uninteresting for me. They are very into the fact that you can “make your own jewelry!!” here. There were aisles and aisles of silk flowers, christmas bulbs, papier mache forms you could “paint yourself!!”, wood blanks, sequins and sparkly things, gaudy figurines for a wedding, a quinceanera, a baby shower, etc. They also had a small section for halloween, which is growing in popularity everywhere it seems.

We were joined by Pancho who seemed about as interested in the store as I did.

I was grateful when we left to go to the bakery to get the brownies that Siggy likes so much. We ran into one of her cousins there from the Marquard family. She seemed rather morose, although she was friendly enough to me.

We headed back to the car, then to the supermarket, where we bought about 10 packets of fondue, 4 baguettes, liquor/beer/wine, soda, and some “Ranchero” flavored chips that I was skeptical about at first, but were actually quite tasty.

Siggy and I swung by my place to pick up another fondue set. Back at Siggy’s, we were met by Jabo, and we started some of the preparations. We had a few margarita-like coctails in tiny martini glasses. I cut up 3 of the baguettes into bite sized pieces.

The 5 of us hung out in the kitchen for quite a while before anyone else showed up. I ate a lot of ranchero chips with cheese.

It was an ok party, but the purpose of it was to introduce everyone’s new girlfriends/boyfriends to the rest of the friends. So it was pretty much couples, a few bachelors, and me. And of course, there was a lot going on, so everyone pretty much just spoke in Spanish very rapidly. I had my vodka cocktails to keep me company, but that was about it. I had a brief hilarious conversation with Fernando, and then a somewhat creepy conversation with this dude Hector who is a drummer in a band called “Candy”. Within the first 3 minutes he asked if I would a) take him with me when I return to the states, and/or b) marry him. Then he kept asking if I’d like to go out to this club called “Bulldog” tomorrow night, or if I would come see him play on the 22nd. When I said, “yeah, maybe, we’ll see.” He was like, “aw that means you’re not going to come.” Haha.

Overall it was a pretty boring party for me, but I did eat a lot of fondue, which was fun. I left at 1:30 and went to bed.

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.

The futon I slept on last night was soft and squishy, and yet firm and supportive. The perfect combination. I slept soundly, and woke up feeling refreshed. I moved about tentatively, but I soon realized that I had a lot more mobility, and a lot less pain. I was by no means healed, but at least each step or turn wasn’t excruciating.

We had a breakfast of barbacoa, which I’m pretty sure is bar-b-qued sheep. You take bits of the meat and wrap it in a tortilla with salsa and cilantro and onion with, of course, a squeeze of lime.

Soon I was back in the pool, one of the few places I could be comfortable.

It was a sunny, lazy day. I swam, I started reading Jitterbug Perfume, I chatted with people, I snoozed, I watched some of the boys play tennis, I swam some more, I ate some snacks, and read a bit more. Dinner was ready while I was swimming, so I ate while I was very wet, and it got a bit chilly. I decided to take a shower and get into some warm clothes.

I felt very shiny and clean and cozy. I kind of wandered around amongst the different groups, but I was feeling lazy, so I just lay down on my plastic couch, and enjoyed the evening. Eventually Anne came over to join me and we had a very interesting conversation about cultural differences between Germany, Mexico and the US.

We both agreed, that as outwardly friendly as people are in Mexico, we can’t help but feel that it’s a bit of a facade, and it’s one that seems very difficult to break through. We’ve been invited and included in everything that’s been planned, but somehow, we both have the sense that we’ll never really be part of the group, even for the short term. Not that it matters in the long run if I make life-long friends here or not, but still, it was interesting to notice and discuss.

I thought about not going into the hot tub that night since I’d showered and gotten dry clothing on, but eventually my resolve whithered, and I hobbled upstairs for my bathing suit, and was soon soaking in the steaming waters again. That night it boiled down to me, the german girls, Chucho and Pancho in the jacuzzi. I admit, we were all drinking “special” lemonade. It was special because it was so delicious, but also because there was a lot of vodka in it that was difficult to detect.

At one point Anne exclaimed, “oh I know what we should play,” as she grabbed a beer bottle and spun it in the water. It pointed squarely at Chucho. I laughed and said, “you know you have to kiss him now.” She looked verifiably shocked, and said, “no, now I ask him ‘truth or dare’.” I responded, “no, if you want to play truth or dare, you just ask him, ‘truth or dare?’ and then he chooses. If you spin the bottle, you have to kiss him.” She really looked flustered at the prospect. The two Mexican boys agreed with my version of the game. Anne still was rather shocked, but we didn’t make her kiss Chucho. Instead we decided to play truth or dare. It was a fairly tame/lame, even slightly boring game that was basically just “truth or truth” since no one would go for a dare. Maybe we all got bored since eventually we decided to just play “dare or dare” with 2 possible dares for each turn, so that we still had some kind of choice. Even the dares were kind of tame/lame. Or at least one of the 2 choices was usually pretty un-daring, so the chosen one was usually the easier of the 2. I suppose the best dare was when Pancho chose the dare that sent him streaking around the tennis courts. There wasn’t much danger of being caught by anyone, but we thought it was hilarious that he actually did it.

I went to bed that night at 5 in the morning.