Chrissy's Mexico Journal

Anyone interested in what I was thinking on my hour+ commute this morning? Or on the things I saw as I chatted with the quesadilla woman across the street? If you're so inclined, read on...

Wednesday, 4 June 2003
The year is winding down, as this is our last week of classes here at Westhill. Next week will be final exams for the high school-- Iīm in the middle of creating the hardest U.S. History exam in the history of U.S. History exams (mwahahaha). Beyond that, just enjoying the weekends before flying back to estados unidos on July 1.

Friday, 16 May 2003
Still coming down from yesterdayīs "Teacherīs Day" excitement. (In Mexico, they celebrate "Childrenīs Day" and "Teacherīs Day" in addition to the standard Mothers and Fathers Days.) I made out with some conventional and unconventional gifts from students, including a giant box of cookies, a bottle of red wine, and a cactus. After classes, the PTA treated teachers to a catered outdoor lunch at one of the nice mansions on Reforma (which happens to be on sale... any takers?). For this occasion, I had (or got?) to wear a dress, which can be both a blessing and a curse here in Mexico. To help you understand, take note of the following list:

  • Why wearing a dress in Mexico is a curse:
    Four times more than the normal amount of whistles and "mamacita" calls
    Possibility of stepping in "Mexi-goo" on the walks to and from public transport and it actually touching your skin
    Easier access for licivious old men on the Metro to "accidentally" touch your leg as they are reaching for their newspapers

  • Why wearing a dress in Mexico is a blessing:
    Normally thoughtless/careless/reckless male drivers actually let you cross the street at pedestrian stops (mainly so that they can get a nice long look)

    Monday, 12 May 2003
    Back in school after a surprisingly eventful weekend. Friday evening was spent having dinner (an excellent Oaxacan mole) at Jorgeīs house, an occasion which ended in a 2-hour debate ranging from capital punishment to U.S. imperialism. Interestingly enough, each debater represented a different nation (England, Mexico, Canada, and U.S.), which made the discussion a bit more heated. Saturday morning I went for a run, the beginning of my 4-month training for the Mexico City Marathon (HAHAHAHAHAHA). In the evening, I went to see a play entitled "La Marta del Zorro," a play on words about Marta, the wife of President Vicente Fox (in Spanish, "zorro" means fox). While I was fine with the language of the play, the concepts eluded me, as there were constant references to Mexican politicians and recent political history. So basically I sat there staring blankly while the friends I was with explained all the jokes (and it was pretty funny once explained!). The evening ended with a night on the town in Coyoacan (a pretty lively neighborhood to the south), where an amazing hotcake artist fashioned a buttery hotcake in my likeness-- I am completely serious here, the hotcake looked exactly like me (well, perhaps a little sexier). Sunday began with a spontaneous invitation to breakfast in the elusive Condessa neighborhood, followed by an afternoon and evening at a friendīs "summer home" in Ixtapan de la Sal, where they have their own private swimming pool, tennis court, and "guest quarters." Much different from my life in the barrio, thatīs for sure!

    Wednesday, 7 May 2003
    Midweek (or, Thursday eve as our daily announcements always say), and it feels like the week will never end, even though (or possibly because) we had a five-day weekend this past week. Last Thursday was Mexican Labor Day, Friday we just got because it would be senseless to have classes, then Monday was of course Cinco de Mayo, the famous anniversary of the Battle of Puebla in which the Mexican forces successfully defeated the French invaders (who, subsequently, took over Mexico for several years). I spent the long holiday in Oaxaca with Pam, a fellow Gringa working here at the school. It was a blast, but I will save the details to accompany the photos, once Pam has uploaded them from her digicam. School has been pretty crazy-- most of the kids are hyperactive in anticipation of the end of classes (which doesnīt occur for another seven weeks or so), the administration seems even more disorganized than during the year (though we havenīt been blessed with any more "Awareness Weeks," thank the lord), and Gustavo is giving me the silent treatment after he dumped an entire can of Diet Coke on me (figure that one out... thatīs Mexican men for you). What antics!

    Monday, 21 April 2003
    Alright, I feel the need to reiterate the apology in my last entry. I hadn´t realized I had skipped the entire month of March-- I now need to update the events of the last month, as well as my recent adventures in the Yucatan. I´m working on a link for the Yucatan information, but for now I will focus on the happenings in March. The following are more or less in chronological order:

  • As stated in my previous entry, the first weekend in March I headed with Naomi (roommate), Jake (her boyfriend), and Annie (visiting friend), to Teotihuacan, the amazing pyramids just outside Mexico City, built before the Aztecs arrived by an unknown civilization. Highlights included climbing both the pyramid of the sun and the pyramid of the moon, and being harrassed by dozens of vendors selling obsidian balls, one of whom actually waited for me to climb the pyramid then descend in order to continue the harrassment.
  • The following week, Sarah arrived on her visit from frosty Michigan, ready to see as much as possible in a short 6 days-- and did she ever! Aside from accompanying me to school for a day, she also visited the Basilica de Guadalupe (which I still have yet to see), the Zocalo, and Xochimilco. Highlights in Mexico City include: witnessing the heroic efforts of mariachis to save a woman from drunken leering in Garibaldi Plaza, going to great lengths to find a Churro stand, and Sarah accidentally ordering and eating "pancita" (sheep stomach), which she was able to identify as such because of her background as a veterinary medicine student (she noticed the hexagonal pattern indicative of hoofed ungulate entrails, or something like that...).
  • That weekend, Sarah and I busted out of the Federal District and headed to Zihuatanejo (see September entry) for some beach action. Highlights on the coast included: snorkeling at Ixtapa island and confronting my fishphobia head-on, people and dog watching from various Zihuat restaurants, and Sarah´s unfortunate run-in with an unruly octopus.
  • The Ides of March marked the end of our third grading period, meaning we are officially in the last quarter of the school year. It also meant the sad departure of Ana Paula (see Photo Page), a teacher and a good friend. But, as tragedies so often spawn new beginnings, Ana Paula´s leaving was followed by the arrival of Pam, another Gringa who speaks both English and Spanish and thus evens out the endless battles against Marco and Gustavo.
  • Found out sometime in the middle of the month that I was accepted by University of Pennsylvania, New York University, and Harvard Law Schools. Have yet to determine which offer I´ll accept, though the deadline fast approaches.
  • War with Iraq began on March 21, as did my war with Telmex, the Mexican national telephone monopoly. Actually, it was a hopeless battle: essentially, due to lack of funds (meaning, several more of my paychecks bounced), I couldn´t pay my phone bill on time, so my service was shut off on March 21, which also happens to be Benito Juarez´s birthday and a national holiday, ensuring that even if I did pay it then (which I did), nobody would be working to restore the service until the following Monday. This of course rendered me housebound for the entire weekend, as I had no cash to go out and no phone to communicate with the world, so I spent Friday and Saturday alone in my house with only Peter Jennings to comfort me (Naomi was on vacation with Jake). Sunday I choked up enough cash for a daytrip to Tula, a site of Toltec ruins an hour or so from Mexico city. That night was also Oscar night, which was celebrated with friends and food at La Casa de Liz y Danette (other teachers).
  • Near the end of the month I was invited by Daniel to the birthday party of his one-year-old niece, Michelle. So I´m thinking, ok, a one-year-old´s birthday party, how wild is this going to be? How I was sorely mistaken. Daniel´s sister (the mother of the child) is around 20 years old, so the majority of guests consisted primarily of her college and college-aged friends. So while the one-year-old (and some of the elderly relatives) were staring off into space and playing with various chewtoys, the rest of the guests were dancing salsa and downing tequilas and 40s of Corona. One guest got so inebriated that she vomited her tequila and hit her head on the wall, resulting in a horrible gash and humiliating stares (namely by me).
  • April showers! With April comes in Mexico the beginning of the rainy season. So much for climatic pleasantries. Stupid subtropics.

    Friday, 28 February 2003
    For those of you who follow this journal diligently, I apologize for my lapse in writing. It's been a busy week and a half, so I will try to summarize as thoroughly and engagingly as possible. Last Friday I was persuaded to join in the boys' not-so-regular poker match, vowing that I would only bet 50 pesos and if I lost it all I would bet no more. True to my word, I threw in 50, and came out only losing 20. All in all, not so bad for someone who's poker face is one of confusion more than bluff. Jorge (Pollo) declined to play, seeing as last time he lost all of his money within the first five minutes. On Saturday, I went with a large group of fellow employees to Valle de Bravo to see the famous Monarch Butterfly migration point-- essentially, ever October, millions of monarch butterflies reach this spot, having flown for TWO MONTHS from Toronto Canada. It was just as amazing as it sounds. On Monday, I had the privelege of defeating Raul in a game of basketball to which he challenged me, thinking that his fitness (he runs like 800 km a week) could outdo my 14 years of basketball experience. Think again, Colombiano! This week went by without much excitement, other than the return of Gustavo and Marco (see Photo Page) after five days of checking out the hot chicks in Guadalajara (and, in their spare time, coaching a basketball tournament). Tonight Naomi has a friend arriving into town (and, actually, someone I knew from choir in college as well), so tomorrow we'll be heading to the pyramids at Teotihuacan. Then, on Sunday my good friend from youth and beyond, Sarah Woodhouse, joins us for some Mexitastic Adventures! (Three cheers for taking two days off work!)

    Tuesday, 18 February 2003
    So yesterday I was checking out the news and saw the major blizzard hitting the northeast United States-- with me just returning from a weekend in Acapulco. Anyway I came back pretty dark (a sort of reddish-orangish-sepia tint), and while I had hoped to return to "Wow, what a great tan!", it ended up being more like "What happened to you?" At any rate, Acapulco was fun, though pretty commercial, with Gringos around every corner. Now I´m just finding out (last minute, of course, as is the standard around here) that we are only having a half-day of classes on Thursday and that all day Friday will be dedicated to some sort of Science Fair. Thanks for the warning, eh? Guess I´ll have to push those tests I had planned to next week.

    Friday, 14 February 2003
    Valentineīs Day, and Iīm unfortunately on a sugar low after eating student-gifted candy all day ("no, this chocolate heart will not buy you an A"). But itīs ok, because Iīm only a taxi-ride away from the bus that will carry me off to a Valentineīs weekend in Acapulco (with two other female teachers... my life is not that exciting). More news will follow when I return to D.F.

    Monday, 10 February 2003
    Back at school after 3 days of much-needed vacation. Mom and Dad went home yesterday afternoon following an adventurous tour of central and eastern Mexico. To describe their visit briefly but effectively, I will divide the events into "Things that went wrong" and "Things that went right."

    Things that went wrong

  • Day one, searching for a restaurant, unable to find the mysterious Condessa neighborhood that everyone raves about. I still doubt its existence. When we finally sat down to eat, Mom's meal had cheese on it (despite my insistence that it wouldn't). This was a recurring event that, to save space, I won't repeat in any more Things that went wrong.
  • Day two, Mom almost starts a nationalistic riot by mispronouncing the large urban parkĒĨs name "Chapultepec" as "Chaputapec" (see my List of Grocerias to understand the offense).
  • Day three, drove around the airport six times in search of Advantage Rent-a-car. Later discovered that Advantage is the same thing as Thrifty, though nobody else seemed to know that.
  • Day three, despite the reservation we had made on the Internet, Advantage insists that they donīt carry Automatic cars. After some persuading, turned into a Thing that went right, when they gave us a full-size Dodge Stratus for the same price.
  • Day three, Mexican roads are scarier and more confusing than we ever expected. Turnoffs appear out of nowhere, when itīs too late to turn, and no sign ever really describes whatīs going on. We circled the exit we needed to take about 4 times (north, south, north, south) until we ended up with the following Thing that went wrong.
  • Day three, extorted by a corrupt policeman for 1000 pesos after he forced us to continue through a red light then told us we had made an infraction by going through the red light.
  • Day three, finally on the Autopista to Veracruz (signs just as confusing as in Mexico City), just before Puebla, when the full-size Dodge Stratus loses its might and stops completely in the middle of the highway. Some nice (but, according to Mom, somewhat shady) construction workers pushed it off to the shoulder and explained to Dad all about how the "Bomba" wasnīt working. Considered turning back for Mexico City, but after 15 minutes the Stratus started up again and we were off.
  • Day three, signs just as confusing as in Mexico City, and weīre realizing that the 1000 peso extortion by the cop has slimmed dadīs wallet, making getting though the 85 peso toll booths (about every 3 miles) difficult.
  • Day three, finally arrive in Veracruz, but the turn to get to the Centro is blocked by a policeman and a towtruck, so we have to head toward the coast, then back toward the Centro, then around the Centro, then through some slums, then back toward the Coast, then eventually to the Centro (you get the picture). Once arrived in the Centro, the hotel at which we had planned to stay is nowhere to be found, so we drive around the Zocalo about 17 times before finally pulling exhaustedly into a Holiday Inn parking lot.
  • Day four, after three days of nonstop beautiful sun, Veracruz is hit by "the winds from the north," thwarting our plans to hit the beach.
  • Day five, en route to the Totonac ruins at Zempoala, the minute sign pointing the direction of the ruins is hidden by some bushes, and we drive 15 km in the opposite direction before realizing and turning back.
  • Day five, driving home from Zempoala and Veracruz, the Dodge Stratus fails yet again, and we are stranded on the side of the highway. After a 10 minute wait, it started up again and went, but then failed again about a kilometer down the road, and we pulled off at a roadside restaurant. Waited there for over two hours for Thrifty men to arrive and drive us home.
  • Day six, trying to close the contract with Thrifty, we are told that the man who picked up the car on the highway never returned it to Thrifty, and thus we are unable to close the account. I ask whether he stole it, and the woman assures me that he "probably returned it to the other office."

    Things that went right

  • Day one, meeting at the airport and checking into the hotel was relatively smooth, though Mom and Dad never figured out how to work the air conditioner. We can tell already that the Montas and Hotel Beverly are a perfect fit.
  • Day one, in Plaza Garibaldi, we succeeded in (1) getting a photo taken of Dad in a sombrero, and (2) hiring the worst mariachis in the history of Mexico to croon us a rendition of "Solte la Rienda." We turned down their offer for a second tune.
  • Day two, hit Chapultepec Park and the Zocalo in one fell swoop. Bought some new sunglasses, a Cruz Azul hat for Dad, and a photo of me and mom with the Rambo look-alike. When Mom tells him he looks just like Sylvester Stalone, he tells us "Yes, but I'm younger, taller, and poorer."
  • Day two, ate in the Zona Rosa. The food was good, but the highlight was our encounter with the pirated statue vender. Offering a lovely image of Don Quixote with Sancho de Panza, he let us bargain him down from 280 to 100 pesos, and the fantastic statue ended up being my birthday present. The man left unsmiling, a true sign that we had gotten a good deal.
  • Day three, Mom got to put her newfound Spanish to good use when she ordered us "tres cafes americanos para llevar." From that point forward, this phrase would become Mom's Mexican Motto, as she sang it from the hilltops of Puebla to the oilrigs of Veracruz.
  • Day three, after a harrowing (see above, Things that went wrong) but picturesque drive east, we finally made it to Veracruz. There we settled down, exchanged some money, had a few beers, then headed over to the Imperial Bar for an amazing feast (no sarcasm here, it was really good!). Dad especially enjoyed the way all Veracruzan waiters whack the table with a towel to entice passersby into eating there. He imitated the table whack at least 35 times in the next two days.
  • Day four, though the weather was not conducive to a beach visit, that didn't keep us from enjoying the sun. After we moved from the Holiday Inn to the Hotel Colonial (right in Veracruz's Zocalo), we spent some time enjoying the Caribbean sun on the terrace, then headed out for a drive along the coast. Almost had a Thing that went wrong when the Caribbean surf jumped up and dirtied up the windshield-- we drove a few kilometers with an opaque windshield before we got the garage attendant at Hotel Colonial to polish it off real nice.
  • Day four, upon returning from our sojourn up the coast, we head to the Gran Cafe de la Parroquia for their world-famous Lechero coffees. On the way there, Dad got to try out some of his Spanish by asking "cuanto cuesta" when Mom was buying some pastries. Of course, the response to his question met only a blank stare.
  • Day four, heading back to the Zocalo from the Cafe, we pass by the "guero guero guera guera" ice cream people (read: there are two competing ice cream stores across from each other, and each of their employees stand outside and yell "guero guero guera guera!"), and again almost start a riot by standing in the middle, contemplating which store to patronize. Once chosen, Dad makes the mistake of calling the teenage girl at the cash register "Señor."
  • Day four, we decide to take in the sights and sounds of the Zocalo from a park bench. It was here that Mom declares that the reason people are looking at Dad funny is that they are looking at his beard. The people on the park bench behind us (who we believe spoke English) seemed amused.
  • Day four, after Mom heads to bed, Dad and I return to the Zocalo to catch the action of the nightlife. After an impressive show of perseverance, a little man with a guitar persuades us to hire him to sing to us, for only 20 pesos. As he croons "Cielito Lindo" ("Ay ay ay ay, canta y no llores"), a local television crew catches him-- and us-- on film for their human interest story on Veracruz nightlife (or so we think).
  • Day five, after searching far and wide for a bakery, we say goodbye Veracruz, hello Antinguo and Zempoala ruins. In Antiguo (the original Veracruz and first Spanish settlement in North America), we took some pictures in front of Hernan CortesĒĨs house, then bought some pricy (and questionable) baked goods from a couple of local niños. From there we headed to Zempoala, where I had the pleasure of translating all of our guide RobertoĒĨs anecdotes for Mom and Dad.
  • Day five, Though we made it over the largest mountain on our route home, the car poops out before Mexico (see Things that went wrong, day five). However, this gives Dad the chance to try some real Mexican food (quesadillas at a roadside restaurant). We also met Guillermo Ponce (though Dad pronounced it "Panza," which means "potbelly"), an extremely friendly man who helped us get in touch with Thrifty and eventually get home.
  • Day five, once finally back in Mexico City, we head to my place for some sandwiches and Tequila (not tequila sandwiches though), as well as a fashion show where I showed off my new Mexican dress that Gram sent me (and that she bought from a Mexican peasant in 1972). IĒĨm the queen of style!
  • Day six, the taxi that Mom hailed off the street only cost 45 pesos to get to the airport. After some "cafe americano," Mom and Dad leave safely (stopping, of course, at the duty-free on the way out), the only scars being on their pocketbooks.

    Monday, 3 February 2003
    A slow day back at work after an eventful weekend. Friday night was the long-awaited birthday party, thrown by one of the Mexican teachers, and thus one of the few events where Mexicans and Gringos interact (I wish there were more, honestly... sometimes my workplace feels like high school, with all the little cliques and all). Then Saturday I would have slept in, had I not gotten a birthday call from my friend Erik who finds it amusing to wake people at 8am the night after a party. In the afternoon I got a call from the Holden choruses back at Harvard: seems that they took a few minutes out of their busy rehearsal schedule to sing me a 180-person happy birthday. That totally made my day! Later, Naomi, Daniel, and I went to a sold-out standing-room-only soccer game: Cruz Azul (Blue Cross) vs. the Guadalajara Chivas (Goats, no joke). It was a pretty awesome game (learned tons of new grocerias), but ended up stupidly in a tie. Afterwards we headed to AUTO-HABIBS for some awesome Mexican-Arabic food. Thank you Habib! Sunday morning I was treated to breakfast in Coyoacan, went to a movie in the afternoon, and took a free Salsa dancing class (teacher: Erik, read above) in the evening. All in all, a pretty good weekend!

    Thursday, 30 January 2003
    Perhaps the second-longest week in workweek history (is it Friday yet?). Made it through yesterday's parent-teacher conferences scarred but unscathed. They were stressful but beneficial, as many facets of teaching are. Also visited an "art theatre" to see an independent film last night-- since it was French, I got to read Spanish subtitles for a couple hours (which, though tiring, is actually easier than listening to Spanish dialogue). Now I'm off to reserve a hotel room for the 'rents big visit next week, then back to catch Maya Angelou's 794th appearance on Oprah. God Bless the American Channel.

    Tuesday, 28 January 2003
    Day 2 of the post-substace-abuse-awareness-week aftermath, and also "Wednesday Eve" as some of the more optimistic teachers say. We Americans are gearing up for the State of the Union address, not that weīre all that interested in what Bush has to say, but more because we have to prepare ourselves to defend the U.S. from the Mexicans and Canadians tomorrow.

    Sunday, 26 January 2003
    To those of you who check my Mexitastic Journal regularly (don't be ashamed), I apologize wholeheartedly for my prolonged absence. Fret not, there will be plenty of Mexinews to come. I will now sum up the past three weeks in an efficient bullet format of which I hope to make use if I am accepted into the law school of my choice:

  • Week 1 (Jan.5-Jan.11): Tried to get reacclamated to life across the border, and to waking up before 6am daily. Most students didn't bother showing up to classes, so my work week consisted of finishing my grading and keeping warm in the school cafeteria. The highlight of the week was when our building manager, Victoria, finally explained how our frustratingly mysterious shower works. Apparently, to get hot water you need to just barely turn the hot water knob while turning the cold water knob the entire way. I wish my stupid Harvard education had prepared me for such real world situations.
  • Week 2 (Jan.12-Jan.18): This was the longest week in the history of workweeks. I woke up on Tuesday thinking it was Friday. It didn't get much better after that. In addition, my two favorite cafeteria workers, Jose Luis and Flor, were fired on Friday for reasons I still have yet to comprehend. On Saturday, Naomi and I visited the Dolores Olmeda museum, famous for housing the largest collection of Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo works in the world. It also features peacocks, free concerts, and some pre-hispanic dogs that resemble an odd mix between George Burns and Ren from Ren & Stimpy. Saturday was also, of course, Mom's birthday. She turned 30-something, I think.
  • Week 3 (Jan.19-Jan.26): Thankfully this week went faster, most likely due to it being "Drug Abuse Awareness Week" at school. Highlights of the week included: the rebellious students who debated with each and every guest speaker about drug legalization and the condescention with which adults address them, the film showing of Girl: Interrupted, which of course is about Borderline Personality Disorder and only touches on drug addiction peripherally at best, and the anger of the smoking teachers who discovered that their addiction is "a disease" rather than a choice (sorry guys, but I agree with this assessment). I spent most of Saturday in Tepito, which, as far as I am concerned, is the largest blackmarket marketplace in the Americas. Though I was overwhelmed by the hoards of people and the rack-upon-rack of blackmarket brand-name clothes, I did manage to find a 6-piece kitchen knife set for $4.50. I also bought some more pirated CDs (Mana and Inspector), and felt slightly guilty about it-- I hope the law school of my choice is not reading this. Today, Sunday, was of course the SuperBowl party. I brought a cheeseplatter, and, though I didn't manage to win any of the betting pools, I felt richer than a corporate lawyer when my cheese was completely eaten by the end of the first quarter.

    Sunday, 5 January 2003
    !Yo he regresado! Back to Mexico after a relaxing break in snowy Dayton Ohio. Since neither Mom nor I had alarm clocks, and since I hate waking up early, I stayed up all night in preparation for my early flight. Consequently, I slept just about the entire way on both legs of the flight, then slept about 3.5 hours when i got back to the casa. Now I'm rip roarin ready to go, watching some Mexican ESPN and eatin some cerezas (not cerveza).

    Tuesday, 17 December 2002
    Day two of Westhill exams. It was nice yesterday being on the exam-giving side for the first time, watching all the poor saps on the exam-taking side. We also had our Westhill Institute faculty and staff dinner last night at a mansion on Reforma, at which I won a fabulous Luis Miguel CD in the raffle drawing. We were hoping for a toaster, which didnīt happen, but Jake did win a set of dishware, which he then traded to Aaron (since heīs getting married in six days) for a tequila bottle/shot set complete with mini cacti inside each and every glass, which he then gave to Naomi, meaning that our house is now equipped with a cactus tequila bottle/shot set.

    Sunday, 15 December 2002
    Wow, six days and counting until we go home for winter break. This will be the first winter break in five years that I'm not thinking about final exams and papers due during reading period (take that, antiquated Harvard system!). Naomi and I were discussing yesterday how it doesn't quite feel like Christmas time here (despite the abundance of horrendously tacky trees and Santas). It's sort of weird, I've been realizing that growing up above the Mason-Dixon line has affected the way I form memories; in other words, that I rely on seasonal changes to associate with events. So I've been here for almost four months, and while I sometimes get nostalgic feelings for things that happened in September, it feels like it was just yesterday, since we've had essentially the same climate the entire time. Weird.

    Yesterday I spent essentially the entire day in the Zocalo, first for a human rights fair, then for the weekendly concerts they have pretty much all year 'round. Last night was a lot of Salsa stuff, including a guy named Eddie Santiago, who is apparently extraordinarily famous here (and in Puerto Rico, where he's from), but of course I'd never heard of him. I saw him and his band (all dressed in identical grey suits) and was thinking, "Man, this is something Dad would be into," but then there were all these young people dancing and cheering and singing the words. They were even selling Eddie Santiago shot glasses. Those kooky Mexicans.

    Sunday, 8 December 2002
    A semi-eventful second-to-last weekend before break. Saturday we managed to find our way to Coyoacan (we've been there tons of times but for some reason can never find the place) to shop a bit in the open markets in Plaza Hidalgo. Then from there it was just a five-block walk to the Frida Kahlo museum for some edumacating before seeing Frida that night. Naomi and I both agree that Mexicans have a strange sense of museum theory, as we can never quite figure out what they're trying to teach us at these museums. Still, it was pretty cool to see the house Frida and Diego Rivera lived in, since it was shown in the movie several times.

    Today we went down to the Zocalo, where I bought some pirated CDs that unfortunately don't work quite as well as the test CDs they played for us (I guess that's what I get for being so unethical). We also checked out a bit of this socialist festival, an homage to an indigenous woman singer named Macuil Xochitl who, to quote the flier they gave me, "without collaborating with the bourgeoisie... was a true artist... who did not believe that the highest triumph is to be contracted by Televisa or TV Azteca." Unfortunately it was a bit rainy and the homage was poorly organized, so we left after hearing some poetry, traditional Mexica (me-SHEE-ka) music, and lots of microphone testing.

    Friday, 6 December 2002
    Phew, teaching is tiring. As weīre madly trying to get through half a century of American history, my kids are getting burnt out fast. Of course, itīs usual for them to ask for free time every class period, but Iīm starting to think they sort of deserve it. Do they? Nah, of course not.

    Wednesday, 4 December 2002
    Half-way through the second-to-last week of real teaching before exams and vacation. It's crazy to think it's December already. As I was looking at my Superama-brand Mini-Wheats (Trigo Escarchado), I started thinking: the last time I had American Mini-Wheats was back in the Replacement Palace... and that was back in August... and that was summer! How the time goes. It definitely doesn't seem like I've been here for an entire season. Maybe that's because Mexico doesn't have seasons. Crazy Mexican mindgames.

    That reminds me: my first day teaching I had to find the guy who had been covering my classes for a week to see what he had done. Turns out it was Enrique, who is one of the sweetest guys I've ever met, but definitely a little odd. And, while his English is good, sometimes things get lost in the translation. Like, when I said, "Enrique, what did you do with my classes while I was gone?" he responded "I played mind games with them." He, of course, meant he had done some sort of brain teasers, but I laughed for about ten minutes (whilst he remained confused but still smiling... good old Enrique).

    Anyway, I and my fellow American History teacher (Jackie) are desperately trying to get through six chapters-- essentially, everything from Washington's presidency to just before the Mexican-American War-- in the next two weeks. The motivation? Memories of AP History class, wherein a month before the AP Test we were still learning about Reconstruction, and Mr. Carr handed us all file folders containing bullet-pointed facts about the entire 20th century of American History. No wonder I did so poorly in Science and Society in the 20th Century (no thanks to you, Everett Mendelsohn; some thanks to you, Rachel Carson, and to Charlie's Mendelsohn impression).

    Monday, 2 December 2002
    Just back from futbol (soccer) practice, where unfortunately only six players showed up. They also spend most of their time giggling and imitating different social groups (such as "fresas," which are preps, and "nacos," which are sort of like wealthy white trash). Donīt get me wrong, I love coaching these girls, but the difference between dedication to athletics here and in the U.S. is tremendous, especially among girls. If kids are so unfocused like this in the states, they get kicked off the team and replaced with a more dedicated player. Unfortunately, we have no spare players lined up to play if we decided to actually threaten benching someone. So it goes, so it goes....

    Sunday, 1 December 2002
    Ugh, stomach still reeling from last night's 2-day-late Thanksgiving dinner with Westhill's American (and Canadian) ex-pats. Naomi and I whipped up two different types of mashed potatoes for the event (well, Naomi ended up doing most of the whipping, as I had to hit the sack). I spent yesterday before the t-gives dinner on a field trip with the school's National Honor Society members. We went to this really neat ex-monastery in Epazoyucan (just beyond Pachuca, about 1 hour northwest of the city), where the kids will, in future trips, be helping to renovate the building. Monktastic!

    Friday, 29 November 2002
    Well, the day after Thanksgiving, but of course we didnīt get yesterday or today off. Itīs really kind of pointless to be here today, as (a) most of the kids are skipping anyway, and (b) the entirety of the day is consumed by the final stretch of "Wellness Week." On todayīs agenda:

  • 8:30-10:30am - Watching that classic feel-good movie, Shallow Hal. (No, Iīm not kidding. I tried to lodge a formal protest, but the organizers insisted that itīs ok because "thereīs no explicit sex in it." Never mind that itīs horrifically offensive.)
  • 10:30-11:30am - My American Literature class skips for a "health activity."
  • 12:00-12:50pm - Attempt to teach an American History class to kids who are all riled up from the "health activity."
  • 1:45-3:25pm - The rest of my classes are cancelled for a Self-Esteem Presentation (crucial after watching Shallow Hal) and the Wellness Week Closing Ceremonies.
    So you all can see why my job is so fulfilling...

    Monday, 25 November 2002
    Not much to note today, except that my trip to Mexican immigration was cancelled, meaning essentially that I have been here for almost three months and still have yet to obtain my legal working papers. I credit my employers with this excellent promptness in my legal documentation.

    Scary thought as we just realized today that we only really have two full weeks left in the quarter. We have four weeks until break, but the last week is finals week (in which we don't have classes), and this week is "wellness week," in which we spend our classes talking about yoga and just say no. Also, Wednesday is another brilliant teacher in-service. On this month's agenda: a two-hour lecture on "Modification and Adaptation in the Classroom" (I have no idea what that means, but they like to use big-word catch-phrases to make education sound complicated), a potlock lunch for which I'm required to bring "bread and soda" (no joke), and finally, my favorite, the culmination of all our efforts, a two-hour lecture describing how the nurse's office works. I'm not kidding folks, one of our mini-workshops is entitled "Hemmorhages and External Bleeding." This is the teacher training those poor saps in real schools only dream about.

    Sunday, 24 November 2002
    As ESPN touted, yesterday marked "rivalry week" in U.S. college football, but little did most Americans know that "Semana de la Rivalidad" extended south of the border. Yes, I missed the Harvard-Yale Game yesterday (way to go Crimson!), but in its stead I had the pleasure of attending the age-old rivalry matchup between Universidad Nacional Autonoma de Mexico (the UNAM Pumas) against Instituto Politecnico Nacional (the Aguilas Blancas)-- American football style. Though my team, Politecnico, ended up losing 28-26, it was a fruitful event nonetheless, in the sense that I learned a whole new slew of "grocerias" (rude sayings and gestures) from the enthusiastic Poli fans.

    In sad news, the taco stand on the corner has been ejected, as have the torta and jugo stands. I believe the cause is the Suburbia (department store) and its quest to beautify its property by putting up a file of pathetic-looking so-called plants. I'm always a fan of urban beautification, but in this case the taco stand was infinitely more functional. I came to depend on Victor, Pepe, Jose Luis, and their endless supply of Mexican Mystery Meat, and now they are no more. I ask all who read this to observe a moment of silence for the passing of the taco stand.

    Friday, 22 November 2002
    Just back from the 11th grade field trip, where a transcendental experience was had by all. It was wonderful to be out of the city, to see the blue skies, the sun, and the gorgeous landscape between here and Malintzi. As usual, getting the kids to focus on thinking rather than goofing off was at times difficult, but I think a lot of them got a real sense of what Thoreau and Emerson were talking about. At the very least, it was a bonding experience for the class in a much more comfortable setting than is the school.

    Thursday, 21 November 2002
    Field trip day, Iīm heading off with my 11th graders up into the mountains (not sure exactly where we are going). Along with hiking and doing some sort of physical education exercise with Marco Antonio (Marquito), we are going to try to force our kids to think like Transcendentalists. I love high school.

    On another note, one thing I love about Mexico is how it is so unequivocally geared toward the consumer. Itīs not a "consumer culture" in the same sense as the United States, but anytime you need something (food, cds, clothes) you can pretty much just go out your door and some vender is selling it. For instance, this morning I got into the subway thinking, "Damn, itīs going to be cold up in those mountains," and when I got out of the subway a nice man sold me some thinsulate gloves for $5. Granted, much of the merchandise is pirated or bought on the black market, but at least itīs there...

    Wednesday, 20 November 2002
    Woo hoo, Revolution Day and our first day off in quite a while. Pity that our days off are always on Wednesdays, making traveling out of the city very difficult. Naomi is off to see the pyramids at Tenochtitlan, a trip that I passed up in the hopes of working off this minor illness with some R&R. Meanwhile Jake is hanging out here doing some grading, while I'm listening to Juanes (awesome Mexican pop singer) and catching up on some emails. This morning, though, we did make it to Sac's for some huevos mexicanos and greasy cafe-style coffee. All in all an eventful day, worthy of inclusion in this online journal.

    Monday, 18 November 2002
    Well we made it to the Burger Place, but Diego wasnīt there. Neither were the curly fries, to our dismay. The final school bell just rang, meaning that itīs off to soccer practice for me, though Iīm not sure that the cold air outside is going to be beneficial for my fast developing cold. Only tomorrow is left before Wednesdayīs national holiday (I believe itīs Revolution Day), which both teachers and students alike await with baited breath.

    Sunday, 17 November 2002
    Not much going on today, other than that I started this webpage. Naomi and I are heading over to the Burger Place for some grease and good conversation with Diego, who yesterday expressed his disappointment that we hadn't been by in several weeks.

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