Mexico!
Dear Mexico. Marvelous Mexico! To narrow it down to one thing is near impossible. But I can. And I will.
It's an attitude. I love the attitude. (Maybe that should be the tee shirt, "Mexico. It's an attitude.") The attitude that maybe it's okay not to be all together perfect, as long as you're doing your best and you know how to relax a bit. A sort of "safety last" attitude. And yeah, the government down south doesn't do the best job, but the flip side of that is that people in Mexico seem to rely more on their own brains to figure things out. They don't act like cows and assume everything will be okay. Or maybe, you know, they do, and I'm just stereotyping, because stereotypes are fun!
Okay, forget it. Can't narrow it down to just one.
Things I love about Mexico:
1. The attitude.
2. The buses.
3. The food.
4. The food!
5. The food!
6. The food!!!!
7. The ways of expressing religious reverence.
8. The food!!!
9. The language.
10. The way people carry their children.
11. The food!!!
12. So much more.
Showing posts with label Mexico. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mexico. Show all posts
Mexico Follow Up
Well, I did say the Mexico entries were over, but there are a few loose ends to tie up:
They had TLBP's suitcase all along, at the airport. When we went to leave, the lady at the desk asked us if we were missing something. Then she just went back to some other room and got our suitcase. (I called them, mind you, and they said they didn't have it.) Inside the suitcase were all of TLBP's clothes, and a better Spanish dictionary. (We might have avoided some embarrassing comments- but then what would I have blogged about?) The suitcase no longer shut properly. We checked it in again and brought it home.
At home, there was a message on TLBP's cell saying they found his suitcase. The cell didn't work in Mexico. Well, at least they called.
Little Z was not nearly as well behaved on the way home as she had been on the way there. She didn't want to go home. Also, getting back into the US is incredibly tedious.
It is, after all, cold here. Surprise! But spring is in the air!
We had ordered the chics mail order over the internet while we were in Mexico, so the day after we got back, we built a big warm box to keep them in. And then they arrived! And now they're getting big and strong!
They had TLBP's suitcase all along, at the airport. When we went to leave, the lady at the desk asked us if we were missing something. Then she just went back to some other room and got our suitcase. (I called them, mind you, and they said they didn't have it.) Inside the suitcase were all of TLBP's clothes, and a better Spanish dictionary. (We might have avoided some embarrassing comments- but then what would I have blogged about?) The suitcase no longer shut properly. We checked it in again and brought it home.
At home, there was a message on TLBP's cell saying they found his suitcase. The cell didn't work in Mexico. Well, at least they called.
Little Z was not nearly as well behaved on the way home as she had been on the way there. She didn't want to go home. Also, getting back into the US is incredibly tedious.
It is, after all, cold here. Surprise! But spring is in the air!
We had ordered the chics mail order over the internet while we were in Mexico, so the day after we got back, we built a big warm box to keep them in. And then they arrived! And now they're getting big and strong!
Many Buses
I suppose you might think me odd, to travel to the end of the Earth, only to ride buses. But hey, that's my thing! Here in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, I especially enjoy the icons and decorations at the front of the bus. The best drivers seem to have the best Jesus figures and such, Mary, different saints. And then they have curtains. Notice how much of the visibility is blocked by the curtains! and then they paint the destinations on the window, too. How can they see stop lights? It's lovely. And where do they get all of these amazing curtains? Do the bus drivers' mothers sew them? Is there a "Bus Curtains Are Us" store?
This first one has Mary painted on the ceiling with tassles, an excellent curtain, Jesus on the dash, and a cute dog ad for a vet- the only ad I saw on any bus while I was here.
I wonder who the saint in the picture is on this next one. Perhaps someone to protect travelers? Or is there even a specific saint for bus drivers? No, that would be too good to be true. I think this guy also had Jesus on his key chain, not shown.
These little girls and my little hija were playing with each other, making funny faces from across the bus.
Each bus is very personal to the driver. Clearly, they have their own buses; they do not share. Something missing from the photographs, too, is the Mariache music. Each bus has a different quality of speakers, as well as saints. These buses have no set schedules, no maps, no nothing. They are all old American school buses, and some of them still have the red crossing lights working. There are a few drivers who just drive around with those lights blinking all the time, like decoration. There is one bus with Christmas lights on the front. Ah, Mexican buses, how I will miss you. Lurching around town, music playing, passing Palm trees waving in the wind, cruise ships, abandoned adobe buildings, people selling everything imaginable on the streets. Today is our last day here.
* All Mexico entries have weird dates.
This first one has Mary painted on the ceiling with tassles, an excellent curtain, Jesus on the dash, and a cute dog ad for a vet- the only ad I saw on any bus while I was here.
I wonder who the saint in the picture is on this next one. Perhaps someone to protect travelers? Or is there even a specific saint for bus drivers? No, that would be too good to be true. I think this guy also had Jesus on his key chain, not shown.
These little girls and my little hija were playing with each other, making funny faces from across the bus.
Each bus is very personal to the driver. Clearly, they have their own buses; they do not share. Something missing from the photographs, too, is the Mariache music. Each bus has a different quality of speakers, as well as saints. These buses have no set schedules, no maps, no nothing. They are all old American school buses, and some of them still have the red crossing lights working. There are a few drivers who just drive around with those lights blinking all the time, like decoration. There is one bus with Christmas lights on the front. Ah, Mexican buses, how I will miss you. Lurching around town, music playing, passing Palm trees waving in the wind, cruise ships, abandoned adobe buildings, people selling everything imaginable on the streets. Today is our last day here.
* All Mexico entries have weird dates.
Agua
You can't drink the water here. That's what they say, so we don't, but bottled water is as common as water so it's all good.
A funny thing happened about the third or fourth day we were here, though. We got this notice slipped under the door, in English and Spanish:
"Due to the temporary shortage of water in this area, we inform you that the water will be turn [sic] on for the first 30 minutes of each hour, and will be as follows:
From 12:00 To 12:30
From 01:00 To 01:30
[Then it listed every hour of the day]
Thank you for your understanding,
The management."
So, I thought, Santa Maria! They are serious when there's a water shortage here! They just turn it off!
We planned our showers accordingly. Then we went to dinner, poolside (really roughing it here) and I noticed that they were watering the lawn. What da? But it turned off at 5:30. Well, okay...
But, the funny thing was, they never actually turned the water off. They just sent us that note and forgot about the whole thing, I guess. Then we were wondering, is it voluntary? Are we just supposed to enact this ourselves? And, if so, it was very, very poorly worded- I would assume I was supposed to leave the water running for a full half of every day, if it were voluntary, which of course would not conserve any water.
So, that was kind of funny.
Then, today, it rained. A lot.
I guess the water supply is okay, now?
* All Mexico entries have weird dates.
A funny thing happened about the third or fourth day we were here, though. We got this notice slipped under the door, in English and Spanish:
"Due to the temporary shortage of water in this area, we inform you that the water will be turn [sic] on for the first 30 minutes of each hour, and will be as follows:
From 12:00 To 12:30
From 01:00 To 01:30
[Then it listed every hour of the day]
Thank you for your understanding,
The management."
So, I thought, Santa Maria! They are serious when there's a water shortage here! They just turn it off!
We planned our showers accordingly. Then we went to dinner, poolside (really roughing it here) and I noticed that they were watering the lawn. What da? But it turned off at 5:30. Well, okay...
But, the funny thing was, they never actually turned the water off. They just sent us that note and forgot about the whole thing, I guess. Then we were wondering, is it voluntary? Are we just supposed to enact this ourselves? And, if so, it was very, very poorly worded- I would assume I was supposed to leave the water running for a full half of every day, if it were voluntary, which of course would not conserve any water.
So, that was kind of funny.
Then, today, it rained. A lot.
I guess the water supply is okay, now?
* All Mexico entries have weird dates.
All I've got to lose is my pride
When I said that for every one Mexican in Los Cabos, there are six Americans making asses of themselves, I hate to say it, but I maybe should have to include myself in that statistic. (And I'm not Mexican.) You see, I really thought I knew a lot more Spanish than I actually do. Also, we have this horrible pocket dictionary, which I believe is partly to blame for it all and... and... and...
Well, here is a list of things TLBP and I have actually said, in Spanish, when we (obviously) meant to be saying other things:
* "I would like the woman with potatoes, please."
* "And can I have a small alcoholic beverage for the little girl?"
* "I'll have the stone bench with green salsa."
Of course, we're learning, right? We're trying. That's important.
So embarrassing...
And another thing: some of the tourist shops have their prices in American dollars instead of pesos, so that I was going to buy something and I basically thought it was one twelfth what it really cost. I was surprised! I didn't want to pay twelve times the price I thought it was! So, naturally, when we went to another store- the liquor store, to find some of that exotic tequila- I asked if the prices were in dollars or pesos. I mean, the prices seemed too cheap, so I asked. This guy at the store yells at me, in English,
"Don't you know you are in a city in Mexico?!" He seemed to be partly kidding. I said,
"Lo se, pero..." And I couldn't think of how to say, "All those damn tourist shops mix up dollars and pesos and you don't know what's what!"
(Later, TLBP asked me, "Did you call that guy a dog?" No, no, pero is "but"... "Then how do you say 'dog'?" You roll the /r/ more, then it's dog. "Are you sure?" Yes, yes, I'm sure!)
But then, he must have felt bad, because he went out of his way to help us and just showered us with attention. Also, a girl at the shop scolded him. So it was okay. They just had cheap tequila. Great!
* All Mexico entries have weird dates.
Well, here is a list of things TLBP and I have actually said, in Spanish, when we (obviously) meant to be saying other things:
* "I would like the woman with potatoes, please."
* "And can I have a small alcoholic beverage for the little girl?"
* "I'll have the stone bench with green salsa."
Of course, we're learning, right? We're trying. That's important.
So embarrassing...
And another thing: some of the tourist shops have their prices in American dollars instead of pesos, so that I was going to buy something and I basically thought it was one twelfth what it really cost. I was surprised! I didn't want to pay twelve times the price I thought it was! So, naturally, when we went to another store- the liquor store, to find some of that exotic tequila- I asked if the prices were in dollars or pesos. I mean, the prices seemed too cheap, so I asked. This guy at the store yells at me, in English,
"Don't you know you are in a city in Mexico?!" He seemed to be partly kidding. I said,
"Lo se, pero..." And I couldn't think of how to say, "All those damn tourist shops mix up dollars and pesos and you don't know what's what!"
(Later, TLBP asked me, "Did you call that guy a dog?" No, no, pero is "but"... "Then how do you say 'dog'?" You roll the /r/ more, then it's dog. "Are you sure?" Yes, yes, I'm sure!)
But then, he must have felt bad, because he went out of his way to help us and just showered us with attention. Also, a girl at the shop scolded him. So it was okay. They just had cheap tequila. Great!
* All Mexico entries have weird dates.
La Comida (warning: not for vegetarians)
We love Mexican food, the hotter the better. Even Little Z likes cheese quesadillas. But I think that, as a rule, if you are in a foreign land and you absolutely do not understand what is on the menu, don't order it! Brian ordered something and got this. Not so bad tasting, actually, but he was troubled that he had no idea what it was. It tasted strange. As in, like nothing he had ever imagined. It was a sandwich made of big chunks of of pickled gelatanous substance which he later, after much research, found out was
pickled cow's feet. The funny thing about it was, when he ordered it, the staff at the restaurant asked him if he was sure he wanted it, because the recipe contained this strange seasoning:
They actually gave him the leaf, which he tucked into his pocket. Thinking that was the weirdest part of it, he went ahead and ordered it.
We've had some good meals, too. Almost all of them, actually. Here I took a picture of an excellent omelete at walmart:
And this, which I did not purchase, is various sea creatures at the grocery store:
Everything here is served with beans. And the guacamole is absolutely to die for!
* All Mexico entries have weird dates.
pickled cow's feet. The funny thing about it was, when he ordered it, the staff at the restaurant asked him if he was sure he wanted it, because the recipe contained this strange seasoning:
They actually gave him the leaf, which he tucked into his pocket. Thinking that was the weirdest part of it, he went ahead and ordered it.
We've had some good meals, too. Almost all of them, actually. Here I took a picture of an excellent omelete at walmart:
And this, which I did not purchase, is various sea creatures at the grocery store:
Everything here is served with beans. And the guacamole is absolutely to die for!
* All Mexico entries have weird dates.
Jumping! Jellyfish!
Okay, not really jumping, but as soon as I saw a jellyfish today, I couldn't help but think of Hector Jimenez.
* All Mexico entries have weird dates.
You got the money, honey, I got the drugs!
I went inside a pharmacy and asked, in my horrible Spanish,
“All of these drugs, do I need to talk to a doctor to buy these drugs?”
She stood in front of shelves and shelves of white bottles with labels.
“Yes.”
“Yes, I need to talk to a doctor to buy?”
“No, no. No doctor. You just buy them.”
By the way, family and friends, I’m not going to buy them! I bought a drink. I was just curious. There’s an American hospital here, and if any of us gets the infamous Montezuma’s Revenge or anything else, the American hospital will be my source for all things pharmaceutical.
* Don't worry about the chickens.
*Footprints in the sand
Pelican prints on the nicely groomed beach.
* I don't know if I should admit this here, but "Footprints in the Sand" is probably my least favorite poem of all time.
** And please don't worry about the chickens.
Tongue
Family eating at a burrito joint.
Daddy: "They have their whole menu on the wrappers! Cool. We can study them for next time."
Num num num num...
Daddy: "What's 'lengua'?"
Mommy: "Lengua is tongue. They don't seriously have tongue on the menu?"
Daddy: "Yes. They do. What's 'rez'?"
Mommy: "I don't know. We should look it up later. I'm glad I got the bean burrito."
Later...
Mommy: "'Rez' is 'animal', so it's 'Animal Tongue.'"
Daddy: "Well, it's good to know they aren't serving people tongue. I mean, it's nice to know these things, isn't it?"
Mommy: "Indeed, it is."
* Don't worry about the chickens.
A dusty old bus and the deep blue sea
My husband lost all his clothes with the loss of that suitcase, but now is completely excited about purchasing an entire wardrobe consisting only of "Cabo San Lucas, Mexico" tee shirts. So far, the best deal he has found is two for six dollars US. He can also find shorts in the local tourist shops (our abode here is right in the heart of the tourist district) - but underwear, not so much. Our wonderful consierge, Senior Raoul, told us that he buys all of his underwear at- where else? - Wal Mart! Even Mexican Wal Mart is apparently just beyond the borders of town, so we could not walk there, however we had noticed a steady stream of old school buses with different destinations painted on the windows, driving through the one stop intersection. "Wal Mart" was the most common destination scrawled in white paint on the windows. We could be normal tourists and take a cab, but we don't like to be normal tourists, so this morning I- rather nervously, actually- waved at the bus with "Wal Mart" painted on the window and got on!
The man said it was 8 pesos (about sixty cents US), so I gave him a ten piece and he gave me no change and I didn't argue, just went and took my seat with husband and child in tow. It wasn't until the ride back that I realized it was 8 pesos per person, and I ripped the first driver off! Sadly. (The bus driver on the way home was a more assertive fellow. Perhaps this was because he had the Blessed Virgin on his side, in the form of a little gold plate image of her stuck up on the windshield.)
Anyway, the bus ride was very enjoyable. It was clearly an old American school bus and even still had the stickers inside showing school children (in English) how to correctly cross the street in front of the blinking stop sign, which was of course completely missing off of this bus. The bus was dusty, but relatively clean, and just three locals were riding with us on the way there. One of the people was a woman about my age with a three year old on her lap. The three year old was a girl, sleeping rather awkwardly. Behind the two of them, at one point, through the dusty windows, was the sandy beach, the deep blue sea, and a gigantic cruise ship resting in the water. The juxtaposition between the woman, the child, the school bus, and the amazingly large pure white cruise ship on the blue blue sea was something I won't soon forget.
My little girl was beside herself with joy to be riding an actual school bus!
In my normal life, I never shop at Wal Mart because it scares me. This Wal Mart wasn't as big as the ones I'm used to (or the ones I can't get used to, really) so it wasn't so bad. The people were very nice. The one guy was a little too nice, and suddenly started trying to sell us a whale watching cruise. He was a lot like the vipers at the airport, only he was in the beverage aisle of Wal Mart!
On the way home, the bus didn't go exactly the same way, but we got off close enough to our place to make it all worth while. It was quite the nice adventure. Here is my Tender Lovin' Banjo Player's hand, proudly displaying his new pair of Mexican undies:
Muy guapo, ¿no?
* Don't worry about the chickens.
Land's End is a Lie! A quote from a Mexican phone book:
The following is a direct quote from the tourist guide pages of the telephone directory in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico:
"Cabo San Lucas Arch...
This geographic sculptured formation carved by nature and patiently done through many centuries is the only finisterra (Latin word for land's end) in the world. There the land ends and there is nothing more."
So, wait a minute... what? Is it the end of the world? What about the other places called "Land's End"?
All just frauds, I guess. The land just goes on, somehow. You just can't see it or... or... something.
This is the only real Land's End:
Who am I to argue with a Mexican phone book? They speak Latin, after all.
* Don't worry about the chickens.
"Cabo San Lucas Arch...
This geographic sculptured formation carved by nature and patiently done through many centuries is the only finisterra (Latin word for land's end) in the world. There the land ends and there is nothing more."
So, wait a minute... what? Is it the end of the world? What about the other places called "Land's End"?
All just frauds, I guess. The land just goes on, somehow. You just can't see it or... or... something.
This is the only real Land's End:
Who am I to argue with a Mexican phone book? They speak Latin, after all.
* Don't worry about the chickens.
Day Two In Mexico: Observations
* For every one Mexican in Cabo San Lucas, there are six Americans making complete asses of themselves.
(My husband, sweet man that he is, pointed out to me that these two guys in the picture are not really doing anything wrong. Yeah, well. Okay. They aren't. But it's the substitute teacher in me, looking for future troublemakers. And they are pretty photo worthy, whether up to anything or not. What a hat!)
* The intersection nearest our rented condo is a one- way stop, although it is a regular, + shaped crossing of two streets. There is only one stop sign. We can observe from our balcony as, repeatedly, four cars come to the intersection, one stops, and three others hastily slow down and narrowly avoid a collision.
* The one cross walk with a light (different intersection) has a picture of a running man (instead of our walking man in the US). The running man runs faster the longer the light has been green. (I found a video of it and embedded. The running man is more distinct in person. Watch until the end and notice how fast it goes!)
*This is a place of absolutely breathtaking natural beauty. Pictures will follow, although they may be marred slightly by all of the Americans making asses of themselves...
... or not.
* Don't worry about the chickens.
(My husband, sweet man that he is, pointed out to me that these two guys in the picture are not really doing anything wrong. Yeah, well. Okay. They aren't. But it's the substitute teacher in me, looking for future troublemakers. And they are pretty photo worthy, whether up to anything or not. What a hat!)
* The intersection nearest our rented condo is a one- way stop, although it is a regular, + shaped crossing of two streets. There is only one stop sign. We can observe from our balcony as, repeatedly, four cars come to the intersection, one stops, and three others hastily slow down and narrowly avoid a collision.
* The one cross walk with a light (different intersection) has a picture of a running man (instead of our walking man in the US). The running man runs faster the longer the light has been green. (I found a video of it and embedded. The running man is more distinct in person. Watch until the end and notice how fast it goes!)
*This is a place of absolutely breathtaking natural beauty. Pictures will follow, although they may be marred slightly by all of the Americans making asses of themselves...
... or not.
* Don't worry about the chickens.
The room full of con men
Today is the day we came to Mexico.*
We left at 3:30 AM, to make the 6 AM flight to Chicago from Madison. Three miles up the road, no one could remember if we turned the coffee maker off, so we turned around and went back to check it. It was unplugged. Back in the car, and we’re off!
All the flights, everything until we actually got to Cabo San Lucas went smooth as glass. Little Z was so well behaved on the 6+ hours of flying, strangers were telling us how great she was. Which is always nice.
Somewhere along the line, we realized that we hadn’t been the best packers. We had several small suitcases instead of one or two big ones, which meant there was too much to remember and carry- which comes into play later in the story.
I actually got Little Z one of those backpacks with the leash to the mommy, and I attached her by polyester lifeline to my satchel, so we were not far separated trudging through customs and Chicago airport. I don’t think she’s a dog; I just didn’t want to lose her! So I treated her a little bit like a dog. She doesn’’t ever mind that, being part canine in nature.
When we got to the Cabo Airport, we had our customs forms filled out, and there was a part that said you just had to go through customs and be searched if you were carrying any food. I was carrying lots of food. We eat weird stuff like sunflower butter, so I just packed a bunch of food. There was another sign somewhere warning about taking food. When the plane was landing, I saw this prison from the air and said,
“I guess that’s where they put people who smuggle cereal into Mexico!”
As it happened, though, everyone presses a button after they check your passport. If you get a green light, you go through, unchecked. If you get a red light, they search you. Luck of the draw. We got a green light. Yee haw! I smuggled food into Mexico!
We had our mass of bags and Little Z on her leash. I had received instructions from two different sources to march right through this room inside the airport where people would try and sell me stuff, and go straight outside and look for the guy with the sign saying, “Cape Travel,” because I had reserved a ride to our rented condo with Cape Travel. The guy on the phone had said, “This is very important. You must go straight outside the airport. Once you receive your luggage and go through customs, do not talk to anyone. Go outside.”
Well, we didn’t just go outside, because... because... I have no idea how to describe this. The men in this room were so gentle, so kind, so soft spoken. They lured us, they caressed our souls, they made us feel whole again. The fact that we had no sleep in 36 hours helped them a lot, too. I kept saying, “But why would the man tell me not to talk to anyone here, to go straight out the door?”
“Oh, there are two doors. You must go out this one, here. Where are you staying? Oh, yes, Jesse will be your driver... do you know you are entitled to see two whales, free? Did they not tell you this? Whales just like that one over there...” (points to a random whale sculpture hanging from the ceiling). There was a point when I decided we just had to leave, and I started to move forward, all that stuff, and bonk- down went Little Z. She fell because we were connected, and I moved and she stayed still. Well, with a crying baby, you can get out of just about any situation, and we made it out of there- using the opposite door of the one the man said to use- and found the man with the Cape Travel sign.
I don’t know how much detail I should give, by my oh my, this is a land of swindlers! Why in the world would the government of any country allow a room full of vipers to separate you from your ride to your temporary home? The vipers all had official looking name tags, even!
Skip to the van. Beautiful, beautiful drive with some Canadians and Americans. Little Z asleep. Cop cars with all their lights on driving by, every one of them. When we finally got to our condo - just as described, thank goodness- I grabbed the little one sleeping and TLBP got all the bags in such a rush he almost forgot his laptop. It was a few hours later, we realized we were missing TLBP’s suitcase of clothes! Luckily, though, he doesn’t care, because it was all clothes he bought at Goodwill, anyway. We’ve now called the cab (or, rather, the nice guy at the front desk who speaks perfect English and Spanish called) and they never found anything.
Going over all of the events of the day, we believe we probably left the bag at the airport, in the room full of vipers.
I'm sitting by a Palm Tree as I write this. Another day...
* All Mexico entries are delayed one month. By the time you're reading this, I'm back home, freezing my toosh off again. Ufta!
We left at 3:30 AM, to make the 6 AM flight to Chicago from Madison. Three miles up the road, no one could remember if we turned the coffee maker off, so we turned around and went back to check it. It was unplugged. Back in the car, and we’re off!
All the flights, everything until we actually got to Cabo San Lucas went smooth as glass. Little Z was so well behaved on the 6+ hours of flying, strangers were telling us how great she was. Which is always nice.
Somewhere along the line, we realized that we hadn’t been the best packers. We had several small suitcases instead of one or two big ones, which meant there was too much to remember and carry- which comes into play later in the story.
I actually got Little Z one of those backpacks with the leash to the mommy, and I attached her by polyester lifeline to my satchel, so we were not far separated trudging through customs and Chicago airport. I don’t think she’s a dog; I just didn’t want to lose her! So I treated her a little bit like a dog. She doesn’’t ever mind that, being part canine in nature.
When we got to the Cabo Airport, we had our customs forms filled out, and there was a part that said you just had to go through customs and be searched if you were carrying any food. I was carrying lots of food. We eat weird stuff like sunflower butter, so I just packed a bunch of food. There was another sign somewhere warning about taking food. When the plane was landing, I saw this prison from the air and said,
“I guess that’s where they put people who smuggle cereal into Mexico!”
As it happened, though, everyone presses a button after they check your passport. If you get a green light, you go through, unchecked. If you get a red light, they search you. Luck of the draw. We got a green light. Yee haw! I smuggled food into Mexico!
We had our mass of bags and Little Z on her leash. I had received instructions from two different sources to march right through this room inside the airport where people would try and sell me stuff, and go straight outside and look for the guy with the sign saying, “Cape Travel,” because I had reserved a ride to our rented condo with Cape Travel. The guy on the phone had said, “This is very important. You must go straight outside the airport. Once you receive your luggage and go through customs, do not talk to anyone. Go outside.”
Well, we didn’t just go outside, because... because... I have no idea how to describe this. The men in this room were so gentle, so kind, so soft spoken. They lured us, they caressed our souls, they made us feel whole again. The fact that we had no sleep in 36 hours helped them a lot, too. I kept saying, “But why would the man tell me not to talk to anyone here, to go straight out the door?”
“Oh, there are two doors. You must go out this one, here. Where are you staying? Oh, yes, Jesse will be your driver... do you know you are entitled to see two whales, free? Did they not tell you this? Whales just like that one over there...” (points to a random whale sculpture hanging from the ceiling). There was a point when I decided we just had to leave, and I started to move forward, all that stuff, and bonk- down went Little Z. She fell because we were connected, and I moved and she stayed still. Well, with a crying baby, you can get out of just about any situation, and we made it out of there- using the opposite door of the one the man said to use- and found the man with the Cape Travel sign.
I don’t know how much detail I should give, by my oh my, this is a land of swindlers! Why in the world would the government of any country allow a room full of vipers to separate you from your ride to your temporary home? The vipers all had official looking name tags, even!
Skip to the van. Beautiful, beautiful drive with some Canadians and Americans. Little Z asleep. Cop cars with all their lights on driving by, every one of them. When we finally got to our condo - just as described, thank goodness- I grabbed the little one sleeping and TLBP got all the bags in such a rush he almost forgot his laptop. It was a few hours later, we realized we were missing TLBP’s suitcase of clothes! Luckily, though, he doesn’t care, because it was all clothes he bought at Goodwill, anyway. We’ve now called the cab (or, rather, the nice guy at the front desk who speaks perfect English and Spanish called) and they never found anything.
Going over all of the events of the day, we believe we probably left the bag at the airport, in the room full of vipers.
I'm sitting by a Palm Tree as I write this. Another day...
* All Mexico entries are delayed one month. By the time you're reading this, I'm back home, freezing my toosh off again. Ufta!
¡Viva México!
I'm going to Mexico! And I couldn't be happier about it!
Tender Lovin' Banjo Player (TLBP) and I have have both always loved Mexican culture: the food, the music, the fiestas, the siestas, did I mention the food? We've gone to Mariachi concerts together and screamed, "¡Viva México!" We've eaten and eaten and eaten. We've tried to take siestas, but somehow, our work places here in the U.S. seem to frown upon that. Yet, neither of us has ever been to Mexico! In less than a week, all that will change. It's about time.
I even spoke Spanish when I was a little kid, but I've forgotten most of it. My friends in preschool were all Spanish speakers, and mi abuelo spoke Spanish, but not so much around me. One of my first memories is actually partially in Spanish. I was at preschool, and we were playing Familia, and this other girl wanted to be mamá en la cocina and I wanted to be mamá en la cocina too, but she kicked me out of the kitchen, and she wouldn't take turns being mamá en la cocina because she thought she was la reina del mundo (hot stuff). Here is a picture of me and my preschool class:
I'm the girl behind that boy wearing all red. Just to my left is Reina del Mundo. I don't really remember what she looked like or anything, but you can just tell that girl thinks she's hot stuff.
Tender Lovin' Banjo Player (TLBP) and I have have both always loved Mexican culture: the food, the music, the fiestas, the siestas, did I mention the food? We've gone to Mariachi concerts together and screamed, "¡Viva México!" We've eaten and eaten and eaten. We've tried to take siestas, but somehow, our work places here in the U.S. seem to frown upon that. Yet, neither of us has ever been to Mexico! In less than a week, all that will change. It's about time.
I even spoke Spanish when I was a little kid, but I've forgotten most of it. My friends in preschool were all Spanish speakers, and mi abuelo spoke Spanish, but not so much around me. One of my first memories is actually partially in Spanish. I was at preschool, and we were playing Familia, and this other girl wanted to be mamá en la cocina and I wanted to be mamá en la cocina too, but she kicked me out of the kitchen, and she wouldn't take turns being mamá en la cocina because she thought she was la reina del mundo (hot stuff). Here is a picture of me and my preschool class:
I'm the girl behind that boy wearing all red. Just to my left is Reina del Mundo. I don't really remember what she looked like or anything, but you can just tell that girl thinks she's hot stuff.
The virtual trip to Mexico
Hey! In nine days, we go to Mexico! Sort of.
Actually, I confess: we already went to Mexico. Last month. For sixteen days. We had a wonderful time. The place we stayed is over to the right there (my little free ad for the condo, because I enjoyed it so much). I blogged the whole time, but I post-dated all of the blog entries to post one month later. Why? Well, because, not everyone is honest and kind, and the blog is open to everyone, and I've posted pictures of my house, so... I didn't want the whole world knowing where I lived and the fact that I was out of the country. It didn't seem wise. Now, I think it's pretty cool that I post-dated the entries, because I can relive our trip and remember it fondly, starting February 19.
If you are reading about our trip, wondering Who is taking care of those chickens? The answer is: the chickens weren't hatched yet when we were in Mexico. We're already back, you see! And through the magic of Blogger, everything will post a month late (if I did it right).
We went to the southern tip of the Baja California peninsula, to Cabo San Lucas, a small tourist town. Apparently, Jennifer Anniston copied us and came after we were there for a few days. That kind of stuff is always happening to us. She didn't catch a glimpse of us, though. We went incognito as a small Midwestern family of three, with a Pink Monkey.
Actually, I confess: we already went to Mexico. Last month. For sixteen days. We had a wonderful time. The place we stayed is over to the right there (my little free ad for the condo, because I enjoyed it so much). I blogged the whole time, but I post-dated all of the blog entries to post one month later. Why? Well, because, not everyone is honest and kind, and the blog is open to everyone, and I've posted pictures of my house, so... I didn't want the whole world knowing where I lived and the fact that I was out of the country. It didn't seem wise. Now, I think it's pretty cool that I post-dated the entries, because I can relive our trip and remember it fondly, starting February 19.
If you are reading about our trip, wondering Who is taking care of those chickens? The answer is: the chickens weren't hatched yet when we were in Mexico. We're already back, you see! And through the magic of Blogger, everything will post a month late (if I did it right).
We went to the southern tip of the Baja California peninsula, to Cabo San Lucas, a small tourist town. Apparently, Jennifer Anniston copied us and came after we were there for a few days. That kind of stuff is always happening to us. She didn't catch a glimpse of us, though. We went incognito as a small Midwestern family of three, with a Pink Monkey.
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