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.