I still had to pack for San Miguel de Allende, but a lot of my clothes were still very wet.

I just enjoyed a lazy morning. Karin called and invited me for lunch at 3pm. I got there a bit early so that I could check my email, etc. We didn’t end up eating until around 4pm which was fine with me since I’d eaten a late breakfast.

Chucho and Siggy were both trying to convince me all day to go with them to Chaco’s big birthday party. I wasn’t too hot on the idea since I was planning to leave early in the morning to go to San Miguel, and I still hadn’t packed by 6pm when I finally left Karin’s house.

I got home and started packing. Most of the laundry was still wet (it has been cold and damp here lately, so the laundry just won’t dry, and we don’t have a dryer).

I’d packed what I could within a couple of hours, so I called Chucho and agreed to go to the party if he agreed to take me home at midnight. He agreed, so he picked me up around 9 and we drove over to Chaco’s. We arrived and we saw Walther and Saskia with a couple guys we didn’t know, all talking to the police.

Apparently Walther had accidentally tapped one of the other guy’s motorcycles with his car, and the guy had made a big deal about it, demanding lots of money. They’d already been in that mess for a couple of hours before we got there, so they were able to join the party soon after, but both were understandably unhappy. Apparently nothing at all had happened to the guy’s bike, but he’d taken the opportunity to extort a bunch of money since it had happened in a wealthy neighborhood and the party was in a big fancy house. Apparently this is not and uncommon practice in Mexico, so it’s best to not get in car accidents. Even minor ones. No one has insurance, but everyone wants money.

I actually met some really cool people at the party and was able to talk in Spanish with them! One girl, Yovanna was really sweet and even offered that we could get together and go see some stuff in the city. Unfortunately when I went to leave, I didn’t see her anywhere, so I never got her info.

At one point I got up to get a beer (I’d only had one up to that moment, but it must have gone right to my head). As I leaned over to get a beer from the keg, I felt myself falling backward. I grabbed the tap, trying to steady myself, but it broke off, so I fell, right on my butt, and in the process broke the keg. A shining moment, I’d say. I felt a little silly, but no lasting harm.

As midnight approached, Chucho and I started to say our goodbyes, and we actually left on time. He asked if I wanted to be taken right home, or if we could swing by and pick up Hector who was playing a show. Chucho assumed that they’d be done playing when we got there, but they were actually in the middle of their set.

Of course we had to hang out in the club while the band schmoozed with the crowd and eventually broke down their set up. We left at about 2pm, and Hector kept telling me I had to go back to the party. He said definitively “You’re coming! I’ll see you there!” as he got into his car. Chucho and I luckily drove separately, so I was able to get him to just drop me off at home. I really didn’t want another night where I get back at 6am with a drive to a place I hadn’t been to before ahead of me.

I was dropped off by 2:30am, and I still wasn’t packed, but I fell into bed with my alarm clock set for 7am.

I had to pick up some peanuts on the way home for Sigrid since she didn’t have any other botanas for the party. I don’t think I got the right ones, but better than nothing I suppose.

I had a few minutes when I got home to prepare for Walter coming to pick me up. I wasn’t going to be joining the family dinner today since Walter and Angeles had invited me a few days ago to have lunch with them at their house.

Walter picked me up, and we were soon at their place. Everyone in the family seems to live somewhat close by. They offered me a tequila which I gladly accepted. We ate some cheetos and other small botanas, and we chatted a bit about this and that. Mostly I told them about my plans for Mexico and about all the people in my family.

Their apartment is really cool. Lots of space and lots of light. It’s right next to a river, and the whole neighborhood looks like it could be in Germany.

They both showed me their art. Walter actually dabbles quite a bit in Graphic Design and had a few really nice pieces. Angeles does a lot of photo collage, all with black and white photos.

For lunch we had a good vegetable lasagna and a salad, and some nice coffee afterwards.

Walter pulled out a bunch of old photo books. It was pretty cool to be able to see photos of my great grandfather and the houses and factories that he’d designed. Walter said that he’d be willing to scan the photos and share them, which I really hope he does!

Eventually Walter had to go to a dentist appointment, so Angeles brought me back home.

I went upstairs and enjoyed some tea while I worked on a new pattern inspired by an element on one of the factories from the old photos I’d seen.

Chucho picked me up at 7:30, and then we headed over to pick up Hector to take him to the place where his band was going to play. It took quite a while to get to Hector’s, and he was very worried that we were going to be very late for the show.

It took forever to get to the club which was way out of town to the north. We drove through some very industrial parts of the city that smelled very bad. When I say “industrial” parts of the city, I mean, places you wouldn’t want your car to break down while driving alone, or with two other people in the car, and when I say that it smelled very bad, I mean they smelled really really really awful. Sickening really. I decided to smoke a cigarette because I figured that would be better then trying not to breath in the grossness. I was right. The cigarette was better.

Eventually we left the stench behind, or we just got used to it. We did get a little lost, but we made it to the bar only an hour after Hector’s band was supposed to play. Even so, we were still the first ones there!

We arrived and were a little disappointed with the venue, to say the least. It was an old row home converted into a bar/music venue, and it was very “low-fi” to say the least. Chucho worked his magic and managed to get us a private room upstairs for the bands to use. He also got us some free drinks. Eventually other members and friends of Hector’s band and the other bands showed up, and the little room was soon very crowded. There was one band that went on before Hector’s band, Candy, and one that went on after. Of the 3, Hector’s band definitely played the most interesting and listenable music.

After a while it became more of a party than a concert (it is basically a house after all) and again I was feeling rather isolated. I finally even left the crowded room to stand in the hall. Eventually Chucho noticed and came over to see what was up. He first thought I was made, but I just shook my head. Then he was like, “are you upset?” and I nodded. I couldn’t help it, I cried a little bit. I was just so frustrated, and I felt so out of place there. I don’t want to make a big fuss and say, “oh, please, talk to me, either in English or in slow Spanish since I can’t understand what you guys are saying.” Chucho was so sweet and really made me feel better. He even called a few people over to talk to me. Then these 3 random guys who were just there, though not part of our group, caught onto the fact that I spoke English, and then they were all in love. I seriously had a little fan club form around me, and they kept jockeying to stand right next to me, since I only had one side free because I was standing next to a tall bar table.

At one point one of them said, “American women are so beautiful. And you, you are so beautiful.” That was my favorite quote of the night (it was sooo cheesy!) until later when Hector said on the way to the car, “I was the one who played tonight, and you’re the one who ended up with a fan club!” We all had a good laugh about that. Then we went to pick up one of their friend’s who had gotten too drunk at a party, then we went for tacos, and then they dropped me off at about 6am. I lost one of my earrings in the process which I was kind of sad about.

Back in the day, the market was outdoors, like most typical Mexican markets. At some point in the history, the government built big warehouses to hold the market, and assigned specific areas to each little stand, so they could have a more permanent place to sell from. When this happened, the stands visited by the family were stationed in different buildings, and so every other Thursday, Jenny has to go to one big warehouse and then go to the next big warehouse a few blocks away in order to get everything that she needs.

We parked the van in a crowded little Estacionamiento and headed to the government supermarket that is nearby the produce markets. Jenny needed a few staple items, and she said she goes to this supermarket when she can because they have a great variety and really good prices. Variety indeed. It was huge. I’d say the building was bigger than a Costco or a Sam’s Club, but it wasn’t a wholesale place. Just a supermarket with TONS of stuff. There was an entire area filled with cleaning products–detergents, disinfectants, polishes, bleach, you name it. They had stacks and stacks of the stuff. You’d think Mexico would be a cleaner place! There was an entire aisle for sugar. One corner of the store was dedicated to cheese, milk and other dairy. There of course was the candy aisle, and the cereal aisle, and the pasta aisle, and the liquor aisle, and the toilet paper aisle, and the housewares aisle. I really think they had everything you might possibly need. Jenny only selected a few choice items, and then we headed out to the real market.

We made our way to the first actual market building, and wiggled our way around fruit and vegetable stands until we got to our specific fruit and vegetable stand. We were greeted by the sons and grandsons of the original stand owners, and Jenny started buying. She’d make a little note in a notebook about the quantities and prices for everything. When she’d bought everything, she added up the prices and payed the total amount. We bought potatoes, onions, nopales (cactus leaves), chiles and some tangerines (which were totally green on the outside, but a nice orange color on the inside, and they let me try one and it was so sweet and good).

While Jenny was working out the details of everything she wanted, I walked around the market a bit. There were lots of fruit stands, and a few meat vendors. There were also tons of little stands where one could stop and have a taco, a bowl of soup, or some cut fruit with lime and chile. These little restaurant stands are a new phenomenon. Jenny said the market used to only be fruits, vegetables, meats, seafood, and spices, but in recent years the little restaurants set up because it’s more and more common for people to stay out all day working. Since they don’t go home, they need someplace to eat, so the restaurant stands do very well.

We wiggled through some other aisles when we were finished at the first stand, and arrived at the next which is the place to buy fruit. Here Jenny selected papaya, grapes, pears, a couple of mangos, a pineapple, apples, tuna (cactus fruit) and some bananas. Sergio is the guy who ran the stand and is the grandson of the original owner. The son of the original owner didn’t like working in the market at all, and kept Sergio and his siblings away from the market, thinking it an awful place to make a child hang out. Sergio’s father was never very friendly, but my family remained loyal and always bought from him. Sergio actually likes the market, and likes his job, so he’s always a friendly nice guy to buy fruit from.

Fruit purchases completed, we took our first bags of loot back to the car and headed right over to the second market. Jenny has lots to do, and she walks very fast. Faster than I’d walk naturally, plus she has a broken toe! I did my best to keep up with her, and we were at the next market which was several blocks away in just a few minutes. As we approached the building, we passed a woman selling chile salsa in little plastic cups that were sealed with some plastic wrap and a rubber band. She was also selling wriggling worms/maggots that were bright magenta. Jenny said that they are considered a delicacy, but she’s never eaten them, and never plans to. I told her that sounded like a good plan. We walked just a bit further, and I looked over to my left and exclaimed, “ah! more bugs!” but really it was just someone making hibiscus tea, and straining the blossoms, which oddly resembled the wriggling maggots of the same color. I laughed at my mistake as we turned right into the market.

I was greeted with a very different scene than the last market offered. I didn’t see any brightly colored fruit and vegetable stands, but instead my eye rested on pale dead chickens. Their necks hung limply over the edges of counters, their heads dangled lifelessly. I was fascinated. Fascinated, and a bit horrified at first. But in a way, it’s honest. Chicken comes from real live chickens. Pork was once an actual pig that probably rolled in the mud with all his pig friends. Goat meat comes from real live, furry goats with heads and hooves and big glassy eyes. If you see the pig that your pork tenderloin comes from, I think you’re more connected to it somehow. You’re not removed from the actual source of your food. It’s not pre-packaged, pre-seasoned chicken breast that resembles a coaster more than it does a bird. It’s not vacuum sealed in bright colored plastic with the words “low fat” or “lean” plastered over it, ensuring that you won’t get any chicken juice anywhere, like *shock* on your fingers.

Jenny walked around quickly and placed orders with various meat, seafood, and cheese stands. She could then walk back around and pick up her orders and they’d be ready for her. After placing orders we went to another vegetable stand where she had a lot to buy. Again, I went and walked around the market. I walked around the fruit and veggie stands first. They had a much better variety than the first market. They even had persimmons and figs! The people were very different here too. They were much more aggressive with their sales tactic. They’d call out as I passed, “Senorita, que quieres??” They’d offer samples of whatever I wanted to try. I would just smile pleasantly, say, “no, gracias,” and walk by, but they’d continue to call, “no quieres comprar algo?” and I’d just shake my head and keep walking.

I eventually walked over to the meat section to take a closer look. On the counters I saw whole pigs, whole chickens, whole turkeys, whole fish, whole rabbits, you name it. They were all piled or dangling there, quite dead. I saw a butcher skinning a goat. I didn’t linger in that section, but it was interesting to see.

I met up with Jenny, and we made our way out, and went over to a small store that sold only spices. I was delighted when I spied powdered anis in one of the jars. Jenny was doubtful, but I was sure Sigrid needed it for one of the new recipes she was trying. We bought 100g of it, and I couldn’t wait to tell her that I’d found it!

We then walked back to the car, all of the errands for that area accomplished.

Next we headed for the area known as Tacubaya which is kind of between where I live in Lomas and where I went to school for Spanish. We headed down a side street and went to buy some fresh masa for making tortillas. The machine that they use to grind/make the masa was turned off, but the guy who ran the store was very obliging and turned it on so I could see how it worked. I even got to climb the steps to see the hopper where the corn was stored and mixed slowly with water as it was ground up. The masa was quite hot when it came out, but it didn’t seem to bother the shop keeper who grabbed it with his bare hands to form big balls of it that he would bag and sell. The first batch was apparently not the right consistency, so he set it aside, adjusted the flow of water that was mixing with the corn, and when he was satisfied, he put some in a bag for us to take.

We passed a stand where they actually make tortillas with another machine that’s like a conveyor belt, but the lady wasn’t so friendly and wouldn’t turn it on for us, saying that she’d finished for the day.

We hopped back in the car and Jenny dropped me off with about half of everything she bought.

That was enough activity for the day, and I was definitely tired. I made myself a sandwich for lunch, and just rested for the rest of the afternoon. I’d seen so much!

It’s really an amazing museum, not only for the art, but also the buildings and the grounds. There are peacocks roaming around everywhere, along with ducks and turkeys, and the Mexican hairless dogs called the xoloscuintles. I spent almost 5 hours at the museum. I looked at the art, walked around the cobble stone paths, observed and photographed the peacocks and hairless pooches, and had some queso fundido and a cappuccino in the cafe where I also sketched a bit and started a new interesting pattern. On the way out I stopped by the museum store and bought a few postcards for people that I probably will never send, as is my habit. Hehe.

By the time I left the museum, it was close to 4. Not really time enough to really go to Xochimilco, but I decided to drive down there and get a feel for the area. Which is what I did. I drove around the old town square, and on the way out I saw some trajineras to my right. I missed my chance to pull into the parking place, so I turned around so I could go have a look. I popped out of the car for a minute, and of course was immediately confronted by several navigators of the boats who wanted to take me on a tour. I told them that I didn’t have time today, then I shot a few photos before hopping back into my car.

It took me a while to get back home since traffic was already getting heavy, but I made it back by 5 when I said I’d meet Teocrito who was going to get my oil changed and fix something with the tire for me so I’d be all ready for my road trip. At 6:30 he finally showed up, just as Karin also came by to pick me up to go to Tai Chi. I didn’t really want to go, but she can be very convincing, so Teo left with my car and I left with Karin.

The Tai Chi guy was about an hour late, but in the meantime Karin gave me a tour of the school that apparently used to be her grandmother’s house. It was absolutely huge, and I can’t quite imagine all the things she said were different. Apparently most of my cousins went there for elementary school.

Finally our instructor showed up, and we had our Tai Chi session. I actually really liked it because it was mostly just exercises, and not so much actual Tai Chi.

Obviously I got home later than I expected since the class finished an hour late. Karin invited me to go with her the next day to the Ranch, but I told her I was going with Jenny to the market in the city that she goes to once every two weeks.

I had a quick supper and headed to bed since I had to get up early to meet Jenny.

I met her son, Cooper, again. He’s really adorable and suuuch a flirt. He kept going into his toy room to bring me different toys.

We left for the orphanage about an hour after I got to her house. Through her husband’s company, she gets a driver if she needs/wants one. So her driver drove us to the orphanage. He parked on the very steep hill in front of the building. It almost gave me vertigo, it was such an angle.

Megan and I carted some supplies with us, and soon we were within the walls of the orphanage. It was actually a fairly nice place, all things considered. It was sunny, the walls were brightly painted. There’s a playground in the courtyard. It’s a very big building, and everything was pretty clean. Except for the kids. Most of them looked like they don’t get regular baths. They weren’t totally filthy, but definitely not spic and span.

Megan and I were there to visit the kids who are 2 years old or younger. Most of them were walking except for one baby who was 10 months old, but not even sitting up on his own yet. There are about 10 kids in all. A lot of them have been mistreated in their homes, and already at such young ages, the issues they’ve developed are evident in their personality and the way they react to certain interactions.

The kids stay in a small room with white tile floors all day. There is one girl taking care of all the young children. There are windows in the room, but it is pretty dark in there. Lots of toys and books were filling the shelves on the back wall, but they weren’t really being played with.

Once they got used to the idea of us, they were all very clingy. They just liked to hang on us, even if we were playing with another kid.

We were there when it was time for them to eat, so we all shuffled across the small empty courtyard to the cafeteria. Megan and I took turns feeding the youngest. We were both surprised at how much of his lunch he ate. There was a whole bowl full of some kind of corn and chicken puree and he ate pretty much all of it. The other time was spent trying to get the other kids to stay out of mischief. But they love mischief. It’s a delightful game to them.

They loved tugging on the television cord that was dangling down behind the refrigerator that was attached to a television that was mounted up in the corner. I told them to stop, but no such luck. Finally I took it from them and stowed the cord on top of the refrigerator out of their reach.

After that they realized that they could hide between the wall and the side of the refrigerator, and if they opened the refrigerator door they could block themselves completely from view. I once went over to tell them to stop. I closed the refrigerator door and told them to get out of there. Of course they didn’t, but then kept trying to play the game I’d started with them, and would every now and then close the door slightly and peer at me and laugh.

At one point one of the older kids figured out how to open the door that leads to the street outside. 5 or 6 of the toddlers waddled outside onto the street, but they were soon caught and corralled safely back into the cafeteria. Someone then was dispatched to secure the door more carefully with a padlock.

After lunch, Megan and I completed the unpleasant task of changing diapers and damp clothes. Nearly all the kids had dirty diapers or wet shorts. The people who work/volunteer there don’t seem to stay on top of keeping the kids dry and clean. At least they are safe, I suppose.

After the kids were dry, a bit cleaner, well fed and played with, Megan and I finally tore ourselves away. Which was pretty difficult. The kids really didn’t want us to go. One little boy kept clinging to me, wanting to be picked up and held. We’d stayed for only 2 hours, but it had seemed like such a worthwhile time spent with those kids. It made me wonder how anyone could mistreat any child. Even the ones I met that day who became frustrated easily or acted out in order to get attention are so small and sweet. It was definitely a new experience for me, and I hope I have the chance to return at some point.

After a short drive, I was soon back home thanks to Megan’s driver.

I was pretty beat after tending to 10 kids for a couple hours. I had something to eat, but took it easy for the rest of the day.

Karin picked me up later in the evening and took me over to her house to get my car. Siggy eventually came back from school, and we all sat around and talked for a while. Teocrito gave me very detailed directions to get to San Miguel de Allende.

I had supper with them, and drove home around 10pm.

Megan also mentioned that she was planning tomorrow to go to the orphanage that she visits every week, and asked if I might like to come along. I said that I’d love to, so we plan to meet tomorrow at her house at noon.

When she left Starbucks, I decided to spend some time on the internet trying to get a few things in order for my upcoming trip. I was just about to submit my registration form for the art classes I wanted to take at the Instituto Allende, when, right above the submit button, I saw the sentence: “you must submit this form 4 weeks before your intended start date.”

I immediately became annoyed and frustrated. Things have been falling through lately left and right, and this was yet another example. I thought, if this doesn’t work out to go and take a class there, I might just go home. I seriously considered it too. I even looked up flights for next week, and I found one for just about $120 on October 3rd.

But I tried not to get too carried away, and reasoned that I should call the school first thing when I got back home.

But first thing when I got home, Sigrid suggested that I get something to eat. I was a tad annoyed, but I soon felt much better after getting something in my stomach. My mood was leveled, and I was much better prepared to deal with everything. I called the school, and it was no problem at all. The woman I talked to was so friendly, and put me down for both of the art classes I wanted. She said that she’d keep an eye out for me on Monday.

What a relief. I get to go to San Miguel de Allende after all. Now I just have to figure out a hotel situation. I called the place that looked like the best deal, but didn’t get through, so I’ll try again tomorrow before I calling to another location.

After all the made up drama subsided, I took Sigrid to the grocery store.

Then I drove over to Karin’s because Teocrito is going to take my car and get everything fixed and get the verification done for me tomorrow. It took me almost an hour to get there. I only know one way to get to their house which involves a tricky left turn where 3 lanes turn into one immediately after the turn, so I just had to sit in the traffic at the light.

The way home took 5 minutes with Teocrito navigating.

I had supper with Sigrid, but then headed to bed.

At breakfast Sigrid mentioned that she’d been invited to Gerardo’s for lunch for his son’s birthday, and although she didn’t say as much, it was clear that I wasn’t really invited. That suited me fine. (Turns out that when Gerardo heard I was in town, he and his wife both were soooo sorry that they hadn’t invited me. They thought I’d already left to San Miguel.)

I decided that I’d go to the Museo de Anthropologia. Sigrid was concerned that it was going to be very crowded, but I didn’t mind. I went anyway. I found a parking spot on the road with the help of a “viene viene” and headed over to the Museo through the park, passing the Museo Tamayo on my way.

I was just in time to take a seat at an outdoor stone bench around a venue where the Voladores perform. Four of them climbed up a very tall pole that swayed quite a bit with their movements. They wound up long thick ropes around the top of the pole, and attached the other end around their waists. Then they jumped off head first, and they safely circled the pole as the rope slowly unwound. In this manner they continued to “fly,” getting closer and closer to the ground with each turn. At the last moment they flipped right side up and caught the ground running. Then they asked for donations.

After the show I walked over to the another little show that was going on. Traditional Aztec dancers were pounding their drums and shaking their rattles and playing with fire. They carried on in the hot sun for quite a while. Then they asked for donations.

Next I meandered over to the museum. I passed security and walked into the lobby area. It did look rather crowded, so I didn’t buy a ticket. I figured it would be better to come back on a less crowded day when I can really enjoy the exhibits. I walked over to the gift shop area, but also didn’t go in there because I would’ve had to check my bag, and that line was also long. But the walls of the museum shop were glass, so I got to gaze at all the pretty wares for sale. I spent quite a bit of time looking at some of the painted silk scarves that had amazing patterns all over them. There was one motif of a bug that really caught my eye (it was just one small part of a large intricate pattern) and later would inspire a nifty little patternof my own.

When I left the lobby area, I was surprised at the two lines of people waiting to get in. I didn’t have to wait at all to get through security, but now the two lines wound all across the large entrance plaza, and I had to cut through one of them to get out!

Feeling extra good about my decision not to go in, I crossed Reforma to head down to the Jardin Botanico. They installed an exhibit that is hung on the large fence that circles the park. It apparently changes often. When I saw it last time, a few weeks ago, it was a showcase of photos of the amazing natural beauty of Mexico. I’d expected to see the same photos today, and was glad that I’d get to take a closer look at the photos of nature and animals, but instead there was a new exhibition. It was photos from a magazine that covers the political climate of Mexico. There were photos of death, violence, destruction and presidents. In a way it was amazing to see the images, but it was also kind of unexpected and jarring on the otherwise sunny cheerful day. About 3/4 of the way through I had to just avert my eyes, and continue my walk to the Jardin without looking at the remaining documentary photos.

Once I entered the Jardin, I focused my attention on the plants, trying to distance myself from some of the horrible scenes I’d just taken in. I did a pretty good job of it. It’s a very tranquil place. Some areas are sunny with lots of cactus and shrubs. There’s an area with water plants, and and agricultural display with corn and chiles growing. I found a nice little plaza with lots of trees. There were plenty of benches underneath the shade, and I picked on toward the back edge of the plaza, and sat down to work on the pattern that had been sparked at the Museo gift shop.

I drew for quite a while.

Eventually a couple of ladies came over and sat on the bench next to me. One of them had her son with her. He was full of energy and just wanted to go play, but the ladies were tired, and just wanted to sit. At one point he was jiggling the bench we were sitting on, and his mom asked him to stop because, “ella esta dibujando” (”she is drawing”). That piqued his curiousity, so he peered over to look at what I was doing. He pointed to the lines I’d made with a dark green marker and asked, “es negro?” and I said, no, it’s a very dark green, but he looked rather confused, so I pulled out my black marker, and drew a bit next to the green to show him the difference. Then he started talking about how sometimes trees have leaves that are dark green. Eventually the ladies felt rested and the three of them continued on their way.

I got up shortly thereafter, and decided to head back home after a brief pass through the greenhouse.

I got back and continued working on the patterns I started. Met up with Sigrid, had some supper, then to bed.

After breakfast Siggy called to try to figure out the deal for today. She mentioned that she was bringing her boyfriend, Santiago, and this really upset Sigrid. She said that she couldn’t possibly feed so many people for lunch, and if her boyfriend came we’d have to make something more special than what she’d already planned. She also said that making the cookies isn’t fun, it’s work.

Personally I don’t know why she’s so surprised. I was there when Siggy and Sigrid first decided that they would be starting the cookies this Saturday, specifically so that Santiago could also come and help. So now I’m just waiting for Siggy to come so we can work out exactly what is going to happen.

When Siggy stopped by, she brought two dresses over for me to try on. They are both very bright. The one from her is bright fuschia, and the one from her mom is bright fuschia and orange silk. Both were too tight toward the top once I tried to zip them. She and I are invited to a wedding today, and I guess she actually would like to go. It’s so funny because I briefly thought about bringing my black formal dress, but I really thought I wouldn’t need it. Now of course I wish it were here. *sigh*

I decided to go for a walk because it was decided that Siggy would come back after lunch to help make the cookie dough. I walked to the lake, around it once, and back. This took almost an hour, and when I returned it was a little after 2:30, the time that I’d said I’d return. All my aunt said to me was, “oh, you’re so late.” I didn’t really know what to respond to that, so I was like, “uh huh.” I wasn’t sorry so I didn’t apologize. As I walked into another room she said, “I was just joking, I wasn’t actually angry.” So I said back to her, “ok.” I personally don’t find that kind of joking very funny, especially when you can’t distinguish the difference by the tone of the person’s voice.

Then we had lunch. It was ok, but Sigrid is always making a fuss about what I eat. She told me to take all the potatoes. There were 3 largish pieces of potato left, and I’d only taken 2. Luckily she can’t see very well, so when she checked, she thought I had indeed taken all 3. Sigh. She has it in her head that I “always eat so much” which isn’t at all true. Sometimes I eat more, sometimes I eat less, but it’s like if I don’t eat enough to satisfy her tastes, she thinks something is wrong. Anyway, it’s just a minor frustration I’ve been dealing with.

After lunch I called Siggy about the dresses, and told her that they didn’t fit. She said she was going to call her friend and arrange some other options, and that she’d have her friend call me. I wasn’t sure when that might be, so I decided to lie down for a while, then I fell asleep. I woke up when Siggy did indeed return, at about 5:30.

The thing that annoys me most of all about days like today and yesterday when things just kind of fall through, is that it means a day wasted for me. I’m there, I’m on time, I’m waiting. I could have gone to the Bazaar de Sabado like I’ve been wanting to for the past few weeks. I could have actually gone and done something new. But instead, I sit and wait at home, expecting that at any minute things are going to get going, but they are always pushed back.

After Siggy finally arrived, I guess I snoozed for another 1/2 hour before I got up. By that time they were totally done with everything. Great. I waited all day for absolutely nothing.

To add insult to injury, we’re not going to the wedding after all. She has the most legitimate reason not to go–a father of one of her friend’s died today and she has to go to the funeral. Ok, these things happen. So I called Chucho who last night had invited me to see an friend’s band play tonight. Originally he’d offered to pick me up, but now the band’s car broke down, so he’s taking them and all their stuff to the show. There was some vague reference that another friend of ours is going, and he said that he’d message me with his phone number, but I’ve yet to receive a message from him. He finished our conversation saying that he’d call me in 2 hours. Great. I get to wait another 2 hours to see if anything is actually going to happen.

I decided to go to Starbucks, instead of just sitting around waiting for something. When Chucho finally got in touch with me, he said that he would pick me up, but I told him that afterall, I just didn’t want to go out.

I stayed at Starbucks until it closed. I was the last one there.

I drove home, and parked in front of the house for a while. I didn’t want to go inside yet. At home when I feel somewhat melancholy, I like to just drive around, maybe go somewhere remote and just sit by myself for a while.

But I’m in Mexico City, which is very different than the area where I live. Green-space is scarce, and somewhat scary at night. Not a place you want to hang out by yourself at night. But I wanted to be around plants for some reason.

Since I just wanted to go somewhere, without a specific destination in mind, I started driving. I remembered that Siggy had said that the lights at the Zocalo are great because it’s still decorated for the Independence day, so I headed down Reforma. As I came near the Angel statue I passed by an outdoor festival of plants and flowers. In full swing, even at 10:30 at night. I found my green space, even if it was the urban version!

After I’d meandered up and down the aisles a few times on either side of the street, I considered walking across the busy traffic circle to sit on the steps of the Angel of Victory statue, but instead I headed back to my car. I had in mind to continue down to the Zocalo, as was my original intent. Somewhere I must have missed a turn because I was suddenly in an area that I didn’t recognize at all. The neighborhoods were getting shabbier. The smells were getting worse. The trash was getting more plentiful. The puestos that were lining the streets were getting more and more ramshackle.

I didn’t immediately panic. I figured I’d just go back the way I came and follow the signs to the Zocalo, or to Lomas, or to Periferico, and that then I’d be ok. I saw a sign for the Zocalo, so I turned down the street. I felt somewhat smug at my Mexican street smarts, until I ran out of signs pointing me to the Zocalo. Again I was driving in unfamiliar territory. The first wave of panic washed over me, but I reasoned it back, and held it at bay for a while.

I saw a sign for Insurgentes, a familiar name that I sort of knew would eventually lead me to somewhere that I would recognize. But I guess I got on it in the wrong direction, if I got on it at all. Street signs in Mexico city can be scarce at times. The road suddenly turned into more of a highway with tunnels, 4 lanes, and exits to places I’d never even heard of. I didn’t really know what to do, so I just kept driving, hoping to eventually find a place to turn around, or find a place with a familiar name.

I was driving fast and getting hot with the panic that was taking full, firm control over my level headed reasoning.

Eventually I found a place with a familiar name. “Pyramides de Teotihuacan” which incidentally is waaaay outside of the city, and you need to go through several toll booths to get there. I was driving in the right lane, but I spotted a U-turn to the left, so I pulled a fancy/stupid maneuver to get to it just in time.

Headed back to the city, I felt a bit better. A bit less panicky. I saw a sign for Chapultepec and I felt even better. That’s right in my neighborhood! But my night wasn’t over. I wove in and out of local lanes and the highway, trying to figure out where exactly to go to get to the “Chapultepec” exit that several conflicting signs promised. I ended up in another quiet, not so savory and equally unfamiliar section of town. At this point I wasn’t even panicky, I was just pissed off. Pissed off at the crappy signage in the city, pissed off at other cars on the road, pissed of that it was night time and getting later all the time, pissed off that I was still so unfamiliar, even when theoretically so close to my neighborhood. So I made another U-turn, took a right down and unmarked lane, and suddenly, with no fan fare, no fireworks, no drum roll, I was back on Reforma in the direction of Lomas.

Sigh.

All the panic, all the hotness, all the frustration, all the desperation and pissed off feelings faded away in an instant. I knew where I was! I’d be home and in bed in a matter of minutes. And I was. Whenever I told anyone what I ended up doing that night, I just said, “oh, I went to Starbucks and worked on some stuff.” I figure what they don’t know won’t harm them, and I wouldn’t want to worry them unnecessarily.

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.

He agreed, so I went back upstairs to confirm the time to meet with Siggy. Then it became clear she didn’t really have time to meet up, and I didn’t want to push it since she’s been really busy and stressed lately. So instead, I thought I’d take some photos of my patterns that I’ve done recently so that I can write some journal posts about them. I was in the middle of downloading them to my computer when Sigrid returned. She was surprised to see that I was still around, but said that we were going to Karin’s for lunch. Greeeat. I suppose I could have refused, but I suppose I was also a bit hungry.

So we went over to Karin’s and actually had a really nice lunch of cauliflower and twice baked potatoes with coffee afterwards. She invited me to go to Tai Chi again, but I’d heard of plans to meet up for drinks to celebrate Pollo’s birthday which is today. Chucho was going to call me to confirm.

I drove us back home, and Sigrid was expecting a guest, so I headed over to Starbucks. to work on my photo and journal stuff. Chucho called me to tell me that the plans were off.

Ah well, so much for making the most of my day. I’ll have to think of something interesting to do for tomorrow.