Arteaga, Mexico

Mexico is much slower than what I'm used to.  They are in no rush to wake up and start the day, and there's never a pressing feeling to be on time.  Even people who have a full day of work get a two hour break for luch and rest.  The town I'm living at is quiet, peaceful, tranquilo.  Even the breeze knows how to rock the trees to the rhythm of the lullabye that whispers through the town.  As relaxing as this sounds, I do get bored at times.  To my family, I'm the most exciting thing around- thus my gossip is typically the center of conversation.  But when I can't take anymore smiling and nodding and trying to understand, I slip inconspicuously into the bathroom and entertain myself by popping my pimples or plucking my eyebrows.  Sometimes, if I've waited long enough, I can clip my toenails! 

Okay, my trip isn't that depressing.  This is only sometimes- when I'm not filming, playing with kids, dodging nuns, swimming in baby pools, or moving from town to town...oh, or eating.  I do that too...a lot.  My belly is catching on to Mexico faster than my Spanish speaking ability.  I long for a stalk of celery.  I actually helped myself to three servings of vegetables today.  It's so rare I eat them, they actually taste really good.

Sweet Memories

I’m eating an icecream bar, specially imported from Chile.  A rich chocolate layer coats the outside of a creamy vanilla interior.  Every bite excites my tastebuds with a hungry desire as the chocolate melts seductively around my tongue in an orgasm of flavor in my mouth.  As if in a dream, my lips slowly recieve each bite, and I let the taste of sweet heaven dance on my tongue until every grain of sugar is savored with appreciation and extinguished of flavor.  Even then there’s no rush, and I wait to enjoy the lingering after-effects of such a delicacy.  The process must be slow because all things come to an end, and knowing the limitations gives me an earthly longing for the devine.  

Suddenly my tongue slips in eager haste, and I swallow a bite whole, void of taste.  My eyes widen in panic as the realization floods my body of what has happened.  The resentment sets in as the opportunity flees down my throat, and I’m one bite closer to the end.  I close my eyes and reorient myself.  After all, there’s still a few more bites of delicious goodness to remind me of better days.

News Worthy

Someone was flipping through the channels and I saw a glimpse of US news. I didn´t catch what was going on because of course it was in Spanish, and they didn´t leave it on the channel long enough for me to figure it out...because why would they care about American news.

But I realized I have no idea what´s going on in the states. I´ve been gone long enough to miss something big. What if the US has declared war on Canada, and my whole family has uprooted to joint the patriotic surge as the US plunges into a renewed spirit of colonialism. I knew it was only a matter of time before the American dream turned to conquering a country with free health care and limited pollution.

I hope for the sake of Celine Dion, we haven´t gone that far. What I do obtain from Mexican Noticia was an exuberant ¨GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL!!!!¨ which meant Brazil won the soccer championship for the seventh time. Or maybe it was just their seventh win. In any event, Mexican soccer fans (in other words, every natural-born Mexican) despise Brazil and their futbol abilidad. To beat Mexico in soccer is asking for certain death. Guns are illegal to own, but they have all the power of the Virgin of Guadalupe and protein enriched beans.

I wish Mexico better luck next year, and I recommend US to play nice with all the other kids.

The Shower Files #2

Since I´ve already admitted to holding conversations in my head, I risk little in telling about how I talk to inanimate objects.  Every time I go to take a shower in this slightly underdeveloped part of the world, I look at the shower head and say, ¨Look, I know your going to be cold, and I know your going to pierce my skin with an icy shock.  So let´s just get this over with so I can be clean again.¨
 
Thus is the process of a Mexican shower. 

Deep in Thought

It seems there are places specially designed for deep thinking.  The toilet happens to be one spot truly receptive to pensiveness.  This very entry was first written while relieving myself.  The shower too has led to great inventions.  Now I must acknowledge the power of the bus.  Riding along, not having to worry about driving, watching the world go by through a small, glass window- excellent conditions to let the mind wander.  Well, first it was my eyes that wandered to the back of the bus driver´s head... or should I say, the mullet on the back of the bus driver´s head.  The dialogue in my mind proceeded as follows:  ¨Oh, you have a mullet too?  Yes, we can truly relate to one another.  It´s hard living in this day-in-age...with a mullet.¨
 
Okay, so maybe a dialogue consists of two people talking, and maybe I don´t quite have a mullet.  But I thought the image of me conducting a monologue as I stared shamelessly at the wonder of this man´s mullet was worth your time to read.

Educacion de Mexico

Gringo is a term referring to Americans or ¨white people¨ that stems from the historical invasion into Mexican territory. When American soldiers rode into what is today considered ¨Texas¨, dressed in green uniforms, the protesting Mexicans would yell out in what little English they knew, ¨Green go!¨, thus forming the endearing term, Gringo.

Though I´ve been called Gringa a few times here in Mexico, I am treated very kindly. Mexicans are of the most hospitipal people I know. They feed me well (I´m turing into a healthy gordita), and I always have a smiling face to keep me company. The town where I live is tucked snug between mountains of enchanting beauty, and the wind blows cool and smooth on my face. Dios vive aqui, por cierto.

¡Viva la Mexico!