Kids' birthday parties

Today I went to another student's birthday party, and it occurred to me that I have yet to write an entry about birthday parties here. The first one I went to was in September. It was held at a banquet hall type place, and most of the kids were wearing costumes. I asked a parent, "Do kids always wear costumes to birthday parties here?" "No," the parent replied. "Javier just likes costumes." There had to have been 100 or 150 people at this 6-year-old's birthday party. I had spent less than a month in Mexico at that point, so my Spanish was so-so in talking with my students' parents. Before I went to the party, I asked my coordinator at school if she there would be a pinata. She looked at me like I was crazy, and I thought, "Oh, no, I just made a cultural stereotyping boo-boo, maybe they don't really celebrate with pinatas!" But she said, "A pinata? At least two or three!" And there were three, as I recall.
A week or two I went to another birthday party, and before I left I wondered, how many pinatas and tacos will there be? Two, and a few hundred.
Today's birthday party takes the cake for me, because it was held at ROLLER CLUB!! Brought back memories of parties at Skateland... even though this rink was in a mall basement and was half the size... There's a running joke between Glenn, the third grade teacher, and I, that I'm still mad at him because he wouldn't take me to a birthday party he was invited to that was at Roller Club. Anyhow, I went to this party, and none of the parents were skating, and scarily enough, I'm closer in age to parents than the kids, so I have to pretend I'm mature for hours on end! Painful. So I went over to one of my students and asked her if I should come skating, and hey, she said yes, I'd hate to disappoint the kids... right. So I skated for a couple of hours and managed to teach a few of my kids how to skate. I love the moments I can spend outside of class with my students, moments when I'm not telling them, "Quiet hands!" which is Miss Heather shortcut talk for quiet in your seat, hand raised, or you don't exist to me. Well, it's not that harsh, but you get the idea.
Here are some pictures from today's birthday party! I like the one where one of my students is pushing the birthday boy's head toward the cake. And here is Karla and her mom, who I tried to help skate, but she couldn't stop leaning back even though I told her to bend her knees and lean forward a bit in two languages. :) Cute story about Karla: she likes to draw pictures of us, and she labels me "Miss Geder." This has recently progressed to "Miss Heder", and one time "Miss Heather" when her mother wrote it out for her to copy. Cute kid. Cute story about the birthday boy: when he thinks something is really funny, he doesn't laugh as much as he sort of grunts. There's no mistaking it for anyone else in class. :) Also enjoyable is the fact that pizza is served with ketchup to put on it here. GROSS.

What do you want to know?

So, I've been keeping this page since August. That makes almost five months of adventure-recounting. But, I'd like to know, what do you want to know about life in Mexico? I've gotten a few questions, and I'd like to get more in order to write an entry that answers the question. So, leave a comment, email me, or instant message me to let me know what you question you have about life in Mexico! Gracias :)

November words

I'd like to take a moment to note some of my better Spanish mistakes, which usually occur when two words ressemble each other and yet have little or nothing in common when it comes to meaning.
1. I spent weeks telling people I was from the edad (age) of New York instead of the estado (state).
2. palo/pavo (stick instead of turkey)
3. "un partido del cuerpo del hombre" instead of "un parte del cuerpo del hombre" ("It's a game with a man's body" instead of "It's a part of a man's body")
4. During the first week of school when English failed, I told my students to "Dejen" in their seats instead of "Queden". The first means "leave/let" and the second means "stay". You can imagine the confusion.
5. juego de naranja instead of jugo de naranja... the first means "orange game" and the second, "orange juice".
6. I once confused "piedra" and "pierna", or "stone" and "leg". I was told to get off at a rock, and I said, "So I tell the driver to let me off at the leg?" Yes.
More to come, I'm sure.

Instead of daily words I'm switching to monthly words... that way when I remember more than one in a day and none in another, I don't feel like I'm fudging the data :-p
lapicera: yet another word for a pen (add that to pluma, boligrafo, etc.)
barro: pimple
cachando: horny (sorry if this offends you, but hey, it was a word I didn't know)
caladera: drain
se le cierro: he cut me off
Noruega y Suecia: Norway and Sweden
la tarima: stage
asferas (sp?): ornaments (on the Christmas tree)
reganar: to scold, break up with, tell off, quarrel with
exito: hit/success
Estar asi del precipicio: to be at the end of one's rope/thisclose to losing it
tener ganas ~ avoir envie (I lack a concise English translation, but it's kind of like "to want")
meter la pata: to screw up
fogata: bonfire
palo: stick
pavo: turkey
trapeador: mop
trensas/trensitas: braids
escoba: broom
varicella: chicken pox
apollitas: chickenpox (perhaps colloquial, or the name for the individual spots)
mora: raspberry
tocino: bacon
muneca: doll, or wrist
pastor: shepherd, type of pork preparation, or a cane

In touch with my inner child

A couple weekends ago, Jenn (4th grade teacher) and I were bored and decided to go to the Botanical Gardens in Tutxla, and much to our surprise, they were the grounds for a kids' park with rides, games, and junk food! Quite enjoyable, although the "teacups" felt like toying with death. I will go back and take pictures. There is also a dinky train, mini quads on a track, and standards like putt putt and bumper cars.
There was also face painting, which Jenn and I hastily took part in, knowing that we were going to the movies with Carrie (H.S. Language Arts) in an hour and would have to take a combi and walk through the mall with animals on our faces...
Here's my bunny after I ditched the ears! Jenn should send me her picture of her butterfly face, when I remember to ask.

Halloween and Day of the Dead

Since I work at an American school in Mexico, we celebrated Halloween (Oct. 31) and Day of the Dead (Nov. 2) on November first with a half-day of school and altares de los muertos, which are food and flower, etc. offerings to deceased loved ones, as well as candy skull heads with names of living people on them, with a purpose that I fail to remember...
Anyhow, here I offer some pictures of my first grade lovelies, the altares, and Mr. Glenn has sent me pictures from booths at the market selling goods for Day of the Dead.
I think it would be great if we North Americans had a day to celebrate loved ones that we've lost, so that it doesn't always have to be so sad.
Pictures include: The two cutest witches and Harry Potter!! Till of course I have my own witch or Harry Potter, who I will invariably think is the cutest; Group 1B decked out for Halloween (my little buddy in the left corner looks as psyched for Halloween as he usually does for school), a few Group 1A kids in the corridor, and altar pictures.

Puerto Arista

Last weekend (November 18-20) I was supposed to go to Huatulco, but Friday night I got some major intestinal bug or something and was to sick to get on the bus! So Sunday, once I'd pulled it together, I went with Jenn, the fourth grade teacher, to Puerto Arista, our nearest beach. Basically anywhere out of Tuxtla is relaxing, but watching waves crash while sitting under a palapa is beyond soothing.
On Sunday, a girl was walking down the beach offering hair braiding, so I said, "Why not?" and got the top of my head braided.
Also, the waiter at our restaurant on the beach got us in touch with the keeper of the lighthouse, and we got to go up to see the view...at night...well, the idea was nice. Upon seeing this menu, I said, "Wow, the food here is cheap!" because I thought that most of the menu items were 11 pesos...turns out this was a blonde moment, as the "elevens" were ditto marks for the dollar/peso signs. Oops.

Guatemala

Talk about relaaaaaaaaaaaaxing!! The weekend of November 2-4 (which was a 4.5 day weekend for me because of Day of the Dead), Danna, Carrie, and I went to Lake Atitlan in Guatemala. On the first, we headed up to San Cristobal (I say up, meaning altitude-wise, as I have no idea where it is in the north-south-east-west sense) to stay overnight. We had a lovely meal at Normita's, which I mislabeled as Lupita's on my facebook because they both end in -ita, and I work with a Normita AND a Lupita. Anyhow, at dinner there were two obnoxious, old, (probably) American men talking ...obnoxiously and getting feisty about the fact that one of them had ordered "wrong". One of the men ordered guacamole and food, and the other (I'm pretty sure they were both intoxicated?) started ranting about how his friend had ordered "wrong", and that the waiter would serve his guacamole at the same time at the food... so he proceeded to call the waiter over, and in decent spanish with a HORRIBLE cowboy accent, told the waiter to cancel the food and just bring the guac. Then he told his friend they'd order later, so that they could enjoy their guacamole, and then went on about cultural ignorance... I wanted to turn and say, HELLO, YOU'RE the ones in another country expecting them to serve you like you're in yours!! Idiots! They also proceeded to say that Mexicans are too poor to have wine, and then talked more about rudeness and cultural ignorance, and I was trying not to die laughing at their ignorance, or say something "passionate". (FYI, there is plenty of wine here, and I know plenty of wealthy Mexicans- hell, I teach their children- just in case I need to dispell any stereotypes for y'all.)
Anyway, the next morning we were picked up at 8am to ride in a van/minibus to the Guatemalan border, and then walk over the border, and then get into another van/minibus for the rest of the way to Panajachel. We didn't know of this transfer before it occured, by the way. Upon arrival, we were taken to a viewpoint/lookout of the lake and its surrounding volcanoes...gorgeous! There were four local kids that were freaking out to be in our photos because they wanted to see them on the LCD screens, which resulted in lots of giggling.
Our accommodations were modest but cheap, at about $6 USD a night per person, and we each had our own bed! Ah, luxury. We only had hot water half of the time, but I'm kind of used to that at this point, after having gone three months without knowing how to light the pilot light on my water heater.
Bargaining fever hit me hard in Panajachel, since the Quetzal was stronger than the Peso, and just because sometimes the 'tude has to have an out. So I was the unofficial market/store worker, getting deals for me and for my friends. I actually got a guy to sell me a poncho/sweater thing for 10 quetzales less than Carrie, and he said, "Please don't tell your friend you got it for less." I found myself whispering things like, "Tell him 2 for 50" and "If he says no, we walk; don't worry, he'll call us back and give us our deal!" It was exciting. I'm still kind of miffed at the water bottle holder guy for not coming down where I wanted him. [Above: I was NOT about to dine with that spider.]
We only had a few days in Panajachel, which was entirely too short a time to enjoy the quiet natural haven that this town is. We also visited San Pedro, a town across the lake, where I'm pretty sure people hide out and use illegal substances... the ambience was incredibly laid back, and there wasn't much to do except hike the volcano (which I will do for sure next time, since I will bring the right shoes!), horseback ride, eat, and be lazy. We found a restaurant on the lake where I could have fallen asleep.
I think this spring I might travel out to the Yucatan and down through Belize and back to Guatemala, possibly on the start of a road trip down through Central America to go to Colombia, so there might be more Guatemala to come!
Also, I have posted pictures to Snapfish. Here's the link:
http://www1.snapfish.com/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=139297659/a=54499013_54499013/t_=54499013

Ways to Know You're Living in Tuxtla Gutierrez, Mexico

1. There are three temperatures: hot, hotter, and not quite as hot.
2. You put lime (limon) on everything.
3. If you hear a pouring sign and "Agua" annoucement over a loudspeaker every morning, and I know this is the man selling 20 Liter "garrafons" of water.
4. There are actually an even number of men and women in dance classes.
5. You get stared at, blatantly, on a daily basis, just for being foreign.
6. You wear SPF but somehow are still tan.
7. If someone says one hour, count on two. If they say 10 days, count on three weeks. And so on...
8. You don't get American Idol; you get Latin American Idol.
9. A full meal in a restaurant costs about $4-5 USD, on average, but somehow a plastic organizer shelf stack costs $50 US!!
10. You go to a restaurant and people are staring at the birds outside for sale, but they forgot about the birds when the see a herd of gringos walk in.
And, you can buy freshly made, hot tortillas for about 25 cents a pound.

Homage to Colectivos (if one can pay homage to an inanimate object)

I was chatting with Danna, the Kinder 2 teacher, while in Guatemala (post coming soon, if it's not already up), and realized that my most common means of transportation is well worth its own blog entry.
I know I've mentioned the vans, called colectivos (or combis for short), that careen down the avenues here, but I don't think I've really painted the full picture.
First, I leave my house at 7am in a zombie like state from which I don't really emerge until about ... 10 am. Don't ask how I teach from 8 until the cloud lifts mid-morning. I'm not sure if I myself know. So, I leave my house (not in the dark anymore since we set the clocks back!) and walk about 6 or 7 minutes to the Avenida Central, to just in front of the Pizza Hut, where I wait for my colectivo. At first, I could only take the Route 1 van, but now I know that the 53 and a few others also pass by my school. One cannot board just any van of death, because the routes are not clear and if you don't know the route, chances are it involves veering away from the avenida at some point, meaning you have to frantically get the driver to stop, let you off, and then you have to go looking for another van that can get you where you need to be. Anyway, before the clocks were set back, it was extremely hard to see the small Route numbers on the colectivos, leading to last minute flagging down and many missed vans.
Once a combi is properly flagged down, it is time for the buttcheek crunch. These vans can hold up to 16 passengers, including the front seat that holds two, and a novice might wonder how this is possible. A seasoned rider can tell you that only Megan and Anj could fit more buttcheeks on these benches! There is a bench behind the driver that comfortably seats 3 but often seats 4... one down the side that comfortably sits 4 but often holds 5-6, and one down the door side that seats 3 well and 4-5 not so well. For some reason the combis are always, always crowded at 7am, often to the point of blazing by my waving arm, and when I finally get one to stop, I have to wiggle my derriere in between reluctant to move riders. Then come the stares. I've been here for over three months now, but I still find it weird to be conspicuously stared at in public. When packed more than a dozen into a converted van well before I am fully awake, I like the gawking even less. There are few foreigners in Tuxtla (I think I might know them all), and those that are here are made to feel like a spectacle.
Next, it's time to pay. It costs 4 pesos (about 40 cents) to ride the combi to work (or anywhere on the route, for that matter), and unless you're sitting in the front or right behind the driver, paying requires passing your 4 pesos, or a bigger coin or bill, down the row, and mumbling something like "Por favor" or "Le molesta" (Can I trouble you?). Then, back comes the change. If you pay with more than fare for one, you are usually asked by several riders and/or the driver, "Cobra de uno o de dos?" (Basically, is that for one or for two?)
Now, the drivers of the colectivos have a death wish, as I have stated before, and in addition to this, they multitask better than even Boston drivers. They take money and make change while steering crazily and shifting gears and opening the door and sometimes changing the radio. It's no wonder all of the combis have bars installed overhead. I recommend holding on. Even while holding on, one morning I pulled some sort of gymnastic move as my feet and hands stayed planted but my torso went flying off the seat. I have yet, though, to fall completely.
Near these bars is usually a cord, or a button, connected to a buzzer. This is used to request a stop. It was hard at first even to determine where the stops are. Just ring and hope for the best. Even scarier was the first time I looked up and realized, there's no buzzer!!! This means that you have to open your freak show mouth and say, "En la parada, por favor" or "La siguente parada, por favor" (Next stop, please), and be stared at even more. The creature speaks!
That's my morning commute in a nutshell. The parents of older students at school don't let their kids ride in these. Would any of them like to drive me to school so I could have a pleasant ride in, too?

October Spanish palabra du jour

10-31 aceitunas (olives)
10-30 crecer (to grow/grow up)
10-29 al azar (random/ "au hasard")
10-28 aislado (isolated)
10-27 tela (fabric)
10-26 huella de pulgar (thumbprint)
10-25 palomitas (popcorn, or check marks!)
10-24 bombeos solares (solar panels)
10-23 dulcera (sweetness)
10-22 hacer trampa (to cheat, in a game)
10-21 calavera (skull/halloween skeleton dude)
10-20 panuelos (tissues)
10-19 la selva (the jungle...near where I live!)
10-18 amarrar (to tie [e.g. shoes]
10-17 pegamento (glue)
10-16 amargar (to ruin)
10-15 lanchas (like boats)
10-14 hojear (to leaf through)
10-13 apurrate! hurry up!
10-12 el gabacho (slang for the U.S.) also, gringolandia
10-11 comida chetarra (junk food)
10-10 bruja (witch)
10-9 Escondidas (hide and seek)
10-8 arana (spider)
10-7 dispedida de soltero/a (bachelor/bachelorette party); salvavidas: lifeguard
10-6 alambre de puas (barbed wire), nacos (rednecks)
10-5 tapa (lid)10-4 sarro (tartar on teeth, or scum/buildup in bathrooms)
10-3 hipo (hiccups)
10-2 lima (file, like for nails)
10-1 entronque (intersection)

Comitan and the Lagos de Montebello

Peace and quiet at last. Sitting at Helen's Enrique Restaurant (no joke, that was the name) in the center of Comitan, I listened carefully to see if I really could hear what I thought I was hearing...almost nothing!
Comitan, a smallish city about 3 hours from Tuxtla near the Guatemalan border, made me feel like I wasn't in Chiapas anymore. In Tuxtla, the NOISE LEVEL always seems way too high (See my entry, 'Cultural Bumps'), and in nearby San Cristobal I find more tranquility, aside from being pestered to buy, buy, buy from local peddlers. Comitan was a breath of fresh air, literally and figuratively. There were almost no horns beeping, chains clanging, people screaming "agua", music blaring... just quiet chatter, a few cars, and a group of birds in a tree.
Not only was Comitan quiet, but it was also quite CLEAN!! Not once did I smell that faint sewage smell that I catch a whiff of, ironically, in front of the Human Development Office on my street, and there was little or no litter in the street. And no tourists! Not that tourists are dirty, but they do fit into the "detracting from my experience" catagory, and they make up at least 1/2 the people you see in San Cristobal.
Comitan was only supposed to be a transfer point between Tuxtla and the Lagos (Lakes) de Montebello, a series of at least 12 lakes of varying blue hues. The lakes turned out to be quite pretty, but it was Comitan that was adorable. And cheap! We stayed for 7 US per person per night, it cost about 12 US for round-trip transportation to Comitan and 5 r/t to get to the Lakes, and 5 US per person to have a guide drive us to 13 different lakes, including one that borders Guatemala, for the afternoon. I think including food, this weekend was all-inclusive for about 50 US.

Attention Walmart Shoppers...

If you know me at all lately, you read that headline and thought, "Here comes a blurb about 'The Man'..." Well, I will try not to be too indoctrinating, but a Walmart just opened about a kilometer from me, and I cringe every time I see it. One doesn't have to look far for reasons to be uneasy about the number one...commercial empire? in the world. They are known for low wages, bad benefits, and doing anything to undercut the competition. I was also told of a store (a Sam's Club) that closed near Albany, NY, and employees showed up to work only to be told the same day that the store was closed and they didn't have a job.
I went grocery shopping Sunday and they were playing music and making balloons for kids...basically doing a song and dance circus routine to try to keep their customers who might run to Walmart in hopes of lower prices. They had marked on a ton of their merchandise their price and Walmart's price, to show that theirs was lower. And who can blame them for putting up a fight? Even those who have a choice won't usually choose to pay more on purpose. But sometimes one has to think of what's behind the low prices, which is usually little guys like those saving money who really pay.

Creature [dis]comforts

I was warned before my arrival, by a former teacher from Canada, to expect large insects. I have to pat myself on the back and say that I have been handling these new "friends" much more calmly than I (or any of my few readers) may have imagined. Dad, that means you don't have to move down here to take all of the spiders outside!
Here are a few pictures of some "friends" (insects, spiders, salamander/gecko things) that have graced my apartment with their medium- to large-sized presence. Also there's one or two thrown in from the outside environment. It's 90 degrees Fahrenheit in October, so these bugs on steroids are the price I pay.

Cultural...bumps

Now that I'm into my third month in Mexico, I'd like to take the time to address some cultural differences that could potentially get on my nerves, or that I find interesting.

Class
To put it simply, you either have a maid here, or you are a maid. The middle class is small, and most people have everything or have nearly nothing. To risk overgeneralizing, most people are not shy about making their status known. Even at work, there are those who give orders and those who do. And there seems to be little or no resentment/protest on the part of those receiving the orders; it seems like this is just "how things are" here, and how they've been for a long time.
At the beginning of the year, I went to a student's birthday party. Arriving early, I asked what I thought was the family if I could help them set up. I received strange looks and polite instructions to just sit down somewhere. As it turned out, these were people who worked for the party hall, clearly hired to set up for the family, and as a guest, offering to help set up, clean up, or lift much of a finger, you are usually refused.

Noise Level
I read in a book I bought called "Living in Mexico" that the culture is louder here, sometimes people talk at the same time, etc., and I said, I can dig. Well, I can dig, but it's a tad frustrating to NEVER have a quiet moment, and to have students who are slowwwwwwwwly learning what it means to work quietly and independently.
The water trucks make noise. The gas trucks have chains behind them to signal their presence. Taxis and collectivos constantly beep to alert riders who might want to flag them down. Multiple grown adults in my building BLAST music. People shout to get others' attention instead of going to them. The list goes on... it is NEVER quiet here. Never a dull moment. Even at school, during recess there is constant shrieking far beyond the noise level of a playground back home, and many children SCREAM when the bell rings to end recess, every day, even though at this point it is not a surprise.

Standing Out
There is NO way for me to blend in here. I have blonde hair, blue eyes, and I am melanin-impaired. Because of this, I feel like half celebrity, half freak show. The only time I feel sort of normal is at school, because almost half the teachers are foreigners like myself. Otherwise, I'm subject to stares, and sometimes hisses, whistles, and 'mamacitas' from the menfolk. And, no one thinks twice about calling us gringos or gueros (whities, basically). It's amusing...but sometimes I would just like to go a day, or an hour outside, without being stared at!
As a not-bonus for standing out, I often get offered "gringo" prices at the market... c'est a dire, the market vendors know immediately I'm probably not from these parts, they see dollar signs in their heads, and think I won't notice paying a little more than a local might pay. No way, folks! I live and work here; I earn pesos! I will barter with the best of them, so to speak.

Manana...
Nothing ever happens on time. I'm getting quite used to making few or no plans, and then even having the few things I think *might* happen not happen, or at least not when/how I thought they would. Things are a lot more...relaxed here in Tuxtla. No one's in a hurry to get things done, although sometimes outward appearances would tell you that all is going well and is organized. This even continues at school, where the teachers are supposed to plan a week ahead but then be okay with last-minute interruptions, lost prep periods, etc. I've found it easier to laugh and adapt rather than get my shorts in a knot, mostly because doing the latter wouldn't do any good.

Probably more to come...

How am I still alive?

I must be a cat...

I think I've used up a good share of my nine lives, though, since I've been here, and most or all of them have been used on transportation. My ride to work in the colectivo, for starters, is trying at best and perilous at worst. And many private cars don't have seatbelts, or at least they're tucked under the seats and not reachable.

I really didn't think I was going to survive this weekend, though, on my way to Tapachula with my roommate, my roommate's partner teacher (the 6th grade Spanish teacher), and her husband. Her husband was the driver, and he rarely drove below 75mph on NOT straight strips of highway. He slowed down to maybe 55 for the switchback mountain curves. How nice of him. We left at midnight, and in theory we were supposed to be sleeping overnight while he drove, but I think I could sleep better in a rickshaw. I woke up at one point, and wondered if perhaps he had fallen asleep at the wheel. Realizing he hadn't, I said to Shelly, "I was hoping he hadn't fallen asleep at the wheel, but now that I think about it, if he did fall asleep, the driving might actually improve!" She replied, "Yeah, I think he thinks he's Mario Andretti." "Or in Mario Kart," I retorted. This drive was even worse than our bus trip home from Puerto Escondido, where the bus took the same dangerous curves (curvas peligrosas!) at speeds that exceeded safety, to put it nicely.

When we actually arrived Saturday morning in Tapachula, it seemed surreal that we'd survived! Sirley (my roommate's partner teacher) and the cousin of her husband that we took along, didn't seem to notice that we'd been tossed like ragdolls due to high speeds and Formula 1-like moves, as well as some sort of tire alignment issue that made the ride feel like a roller coaster in some parts.

We were escorted through Sirley's mother's house just before the crack of dawn and taken to our room... on the roof! No lie. Don't mistake this as being ungrateful; we were really happy to go to Tapachula with Sirley and to stay with her family, who were gracious hosts, and her husband didn't let us spend a penny (one time when the machismo thing here comes in handy), but sleeping on the roof was hilarious! We had cement block walls, a tin roof with a one-foot gap between the wall and it, and a bathroom semi-enclosed in plywood. The second night, a BIRD flew into our room, sending us shrieking under the covers. I figured it wasn't a bat...it wasn't fast or low enough.

Saturday, after our catnap (no intended reference to my nine lives), we checked out some Mayan ruins nearby and then hit the downtown area. I use the term "downtown" loosely here, as it was smaller than Tuxtla and not overly happening. There were some interesting snacks, though, like freshly made root beer. We then went to a place similar to Chipalin (here in Tuxtla) where you buy a drink for 2-3 USD and food comes with it. LOVE these places. I love anything where the food is, or seems, free.

Accompanying us on Saturday was "el diablo" (the devil), or Sirley's 2-2.5 year old nephew Gael who is used to being played with roughly by his family members. I would try to be nice to him, and he would hit me. Finally by day two, he realized I wasn't going to throw a shoe at him, so I received smiles and waves instead of kicks and whacks.

Sunday morning I awoke to find a cocoon in my sheets. That's all I can think it could be... some fuzzy gray domelike structure cemented onto the sheets. I was a little more than grossed out that I found this cocoon after I slept in those sheets for two nights!

We were supposed to leave that day at 11am. Those of you who have any concept of how time is treated here may have already guessed that we didn't leave at 11am. Or noon. Or 2pm, like the third estimate. Instead of leaving, we went to the beach for lunch and fun, and at 3pm, our driver, Mario (real name Daniel, fyi), was snoozing in a hammock, hat over his face.

At 5:30pm, we were ready to leave, but not until we learned that "la prima" (cousin) had her husband coming with us (he works in Tapachula). Six people in a car that uncomfortably sits five... where will we put the sixth person? Logic clearly states that the sixth person has to sit in the back with the bags, of course. Of course...

This led to a great idea... why don't we put all of the bags into larger plastic bags, grab some pink twine, and strap them to the roof?? GREAT idea, since Mario will surely have star power in his foot and floor it all the way home over bumps and curves. I thought Shelly was going to wet her pants when I mentioned the similarity between this idea and the ideas of middle schoolers or high schoolers (or even college students, who am I kidding) when left to their own devices. But there were no adults to say that this was a bad idea, since those who'd thought of this genius plan were the adults. Shelly and I opted to keep out bags at our feet. Better cramped than bagless.

Somehow we got back to Tuxtla alive, and with luggage. Seven hours off schedule. But really, do schedules exist here?

The pictures include: Me and the biggest hamburger I've ever had, "el diablo", me in a cocoon before I found a cocoon in the sheets, Daniel the driver sleeping and me ready to go and an engraving from the Mayan ruins.

September Spanish du jour

I'm still trying to keep track of new and/or interesting words that I encounter. Here they are for September:

9-1 hoja (sheet [of paper])
9-2 rompehuesos (bonebreaking)
9-3 nalgas or nalchas, not sure (buttcheeks)
9-4 wey (castrated bull; insult or greeting, depending)
9-5 tijeras (scissors)
9-6 diente flojo (loose tooth)
9-7 resistol (glue, b/c of the brand)
9-8 pegar (to glue, to stick)
9-9 arbitro (referee)
9-10 federales (federal employees/officials)
9-11 cola (animal tail, or a line)
9-12 estuche (pencil case)
9-13 un pedo ( a fart)
[Vacation]
9-16 pinche olas (freakin' waves)
9-17 moscas (flies)
9-18 bronceador (sunscreen/bronzer? not sure which)
9-19 cajeta (caramel)
9-20 junta (another word for meeting)
9-21 chistoso (funny)
9-22 pastanas (eyelashes)
9-23 paquete (package)
9-24 rompecabeza (puzzle, lit. "headbreaker")
9-25 suceder (to happen), Que sucedio? (What happened?)
9-26 unas (nails)
9-27 conejito (bunny)
9-28 hazmerreir (laughingstock, a "makemelaugh")
9-29 bomberos (firefighters)
9-30 carril (lane [of traffic])

My Kids

I have to admit, when I first started off this year, I was wondering what exactly I'd gotten myself into. My six- and seven-year-old students in first grade are in many ways more immature and dependent than my four-year-old charges were this summer in D.C., and this came somewhat as a shock. It is very much the result of a culture where children are babied moreso than in the states, and the children at my school are quite wealthy, so they don't really have to lift a finger at home. Some of them cut their paper right over the floor. Y'know, to save the trouble of having to brush it off of their desk onto the floor.
But, I also have to admit that they're adjusting to me, which means I won't talk to them if they're yelling "Teacher! Teacher! Finished!" until I come to them, and not cutting their paper over the floor, and I've adjusted to them being a little more needy than kids their age would be in the Land of Autonomy. All in all, they're growing on me, even the kids that, at the beginning of the year, I wasn't sure I'd grow to like.
Last week, the third grade teacher, Glenn, came to do a science and bubble show for my lovelies. Here I am posting some pictures from that adventure. There's also one or two from "mufty day", what they call Friday because the kids can come in their...mufties? I don't know, it just means they're out of uniform. Aren't they cute?
Above: Mr. Glenn getting his bubble on for group 1A.
Right: Gustavo in a bubble!
Below: Sergio, Arturo, Siu, Alejandra, Andres, and Gustavo.
Below that: Joseline, Ixchel, and Maria Jose on the reading rug.

El Canon del Sumidero and Chiapa de Corzo

Yesterday (Saturday), Shelly, Danna, Carrie, and I went to Chiapa de Corzo, a small town about 30 minutes from here, to chill out and take a boat in the river Grijalva, which flows through the Canon del Sumidero. Chiapa de Corzo is cute, has a nice plaza, and offers different handicrafts than Tuxtla, but let it suffice to say that I'm glad I live in Tuxtla, where there are actually things to do.
The boat ride itself almost didn't happen, since we didn't have a full boat, and they wanted to charge us the price of a full boat divided among the would-be riders. We vetoed this, and waited an hour to see if more riders would come along, and they did.
I was expecting a slow boat cruise, but as I quickly found out, we were going to zip along in a speedboat, hair in the wind. My lifejacket made a nice cushion and safety net, and the ride was underway. We raced down the river to the start of the canon, and the driver stopped to tell us that the canon (pronounced canyOHN, I don't have the ~ over the N key) was starting...as if we hadn't noticed? We continued along, with the driver slowing down a few times to point out the highest point of the canyon, (1000 meters up, 100m water depth!), some crocodiles, one of the most powerful dams in Mexico, and a point where, if I understood correctly, someone fell on September 13.

Puerto Escondido

...or, not feeling like a freak show for once.

This weekend, we (Shelly, Lisa, Jennifer, and I) went to Puerto Escondido, a beach town about 12 hours from here on an overnight bus (or 6-7 if you drive yourself!). In August, we went to nearby Huatulco, and I really can't compare the two... Puerto Escondido just blows Huatulco out of the water. And with the size of the waves there, it really could. Puerto Escondido is mainly a surfer town, which implies a very laidback feel, and lots of gringos. Since there were many tourists, we weren't stared at very much, and it felt good to "blend in" for once! I didn't blend in trying to surf, though, as my two attempts to stand up on the d**n thing were fruitless.

We stayed at Casa de Dan y Carmen, which is now Casa de Dan y Carmen is down the road at their restaurant, which was the deal when they broke up. We rented a cabana/apartment for two nights, and got a great deal. I am itching to return!

The accommodations were great, the food was great, the beach was amazing (although unswimmable in some parts), and I really can't wait to go back!

Below: Ice cream man on the beach, an overhead view of one of the beaches, and our cabana.