Venganza
Most surreal moment yet: Me, in the bathroom of a very nice touristy restaurant suffering from the venganza while mariachis played a rousing rendition of REM’s “Losing My Religion.”
Well, the venganza could be much worse, and papaya enzymes seem to be doing the trick. After a week here I am falling into the rhythm more, and the comfort level is rising. One interesting study is the buses (camiones) that we take to and from school each day and trends observed:
1. Drivers love fur. Pink, white, or leopard around all the mirrors and obtruding objects on the bus.
2. There’s normally a picture of a Jesus, prayer, or the Virgin of Guadalupe on the plastic screen behind the driver however one driver has the Playboy bunny instead.
3. There are often stickers from all over the world. One I road on today had put stickers of tadpoles/sperm everywhere on the bus to spice it up.
4. Love the black lights at night. Particularly the blue and azul ones.
I wish I had something more enlightening to write for a title to this blog, but that thought is the dominating one right now, hands down. Today I began group classes which ended up being a relatively hilarious experience. Take three 20-30 something relatively advanced spanish students, mix in an elderly woman who writes for an obscure Middle Eastern/Mexican American travel magazine with Aloha in the title, and it gets interesting. Elena is here as part of the American Travel Writers Guild (or some title of the sort, it all gets a little lost in translation) conference, and their focus this year is to help bring tourism back to Mexico. Her blunders were plentiful in class and it ended up being an incredibly funny multicultural exchange. I eagerly await day two.
Today is our fourth day in Guadalajara. The Spanish is flowing much easier, so much so that is feels weird to write in English. I get Spanglish much better as I dart in and out of languages without fully realizing it. Arthur and I made a pact that we can’t speak English together unless we really need it – it’s working out for us so far. At the end of the day we have difficulty forming words, but at the beginning of each day we are sharper and more confident than the day before.
Llegamos en Guadalajara anoche. My head is spinning with the spanish words and foreign sounds. I’m loving the street art and not loving the way bus drivers lurch after every stop. The strangest newly imposed custom is the hand sanitizer they dispense for you when entering large buildings or gathering spaces indoors. We hiked a mountain behind our house tonight and saw the beautiful mountains and cityscape. Day two, Guadalajara. So far, so good.
The trendiness of farmer’s markets, community supported agriculture, and local food systems in the Bay Area is palpable. Each weekend we bike or walk happily with our canvas bags to the nearest market to load up on seasonable delights, and every potluck we discuss where this vegetable grew and this beer microbrewed. All of these connections to the systems that sustain us breed consciousness, respect, and strengthen community.
After traveling to India a few years ago and drifting through Mumbai, the recent attacks captivated me in a way that news hasn’t in a while. Perhaps it’s becuase everything seems so distant and dismal in the news. And they were on tv, LIVE, getting more attention than they had desired.
Moving changing energy starting anew. Pots pans clothes duck taped into boxes piled on our rosy carpet. That has seen wine spills, Thanksgiving feasts, pratayama breathwork dance party action. Moving. Leaping across the bay away from the foggy city into hard wood floored east bay living. Furniture rearranged and new closets filled. Changing energy and starting anew.