Culture Shock

"Culture Shock is the personal disorientation a person may feel when experiencing an unfamiliar way of life due to immigration or a visit to a new country, a move between social environments, or simply travel to another type of life." Wikipedia

I don't really remember ever going through culture shock before. I don't know if I was just unaware I was experiencing it when I lived in Spain or if I really didn't experience it. And even though I've heard enough warnings about the signs of Culture Shock, I naively thought I was immune to it. I can honestly say that pretty much every time I step out into the street in Mexico, I experience culture shock. The streets and sidewalks here are much more narrow than anywhere back home and people tend to walk in bigger groups and much more slowly. I often leave the house a few minutes too late and am a fast walker, meaning that I charge through the streets of Querétaro and find myself muttering under my breath as a kid runs out right in from of me, or a group of grandmas slows me down to a turtle's pace. Pedestrians also do not have the right of way here and you must patiently wait for a break in traffic to cross. This is both scary and kind of infuriating for someone like me who comes from a culture that always lets the walker or biker cross first. Just now, I was on my bike when I saw a pedestrian cross signal. An image of a little couple ignited in white, played a chirping noise, and even counted down the seconds you had to cross. I know that seems so ordinary, and that in my homes of Amherst and San Francisco every crosswalk matches that description, but it literally stopped me in my tracks. And just as I was about to roll into the crosswalk, a sedan whizzed past me on a right turn. @#$(!#$%^@!!!! Not even chirping, counting, blinking pedestrian lights make a difference and the cultural norm prevails. 

Yesterday I experienced another type of culture shock. I had told my Spanish teacher that I'm interested in elementary math education and am in search of a new side project to do for the rest of my stay here. She told me that two different departments at the Universidad Autonoma de Querétaro (UAQ) were conducting research projects about math education. She encouraged me to go to campus and ask for the directors of each department to see if I could get involved. And so I walked into the Facultad de Ingeniería (Engineering Department) and told the secretary why I was there. She brought me to a professor's office who kindly explained they don't have a research project going on but they do have a teaching credential in elementary math and invited me to their department meeting. I then went to the Facultad de Psicología where again, I spoke with a secretary who told me to go to a different building and speak to someone there. In the second building, I spoke with a second secretary who looked up all the research projects going on in the psychology department so she could be sure she helped me get in touch with the correct person. When we couldn't find the math project, she pointed me towards another professor's office. Professor Two also said they aren't conducting a formal research project but her own research is on math teaching in the classroom and that she gives workshops. She invited me to email her, assuring me she'd respond, and suggested I attend her next workshop as an assistant and from there I could work with her in some capacity.


I had been so nervous on the bus ride to the university. Who was I to barge in and ask to work on an academic research project? What makes me think they would want my help? I kept thinking. But everyone I talked to was so kind, they approached my request by trying to think of how they could be the most helpful to me. When I asked about a non-existent research project, they thought of what else they could offer to fulfill my curiosity. I don't think that would every happen in the U.S., people are so much more suspicious of strangers and wouldn't automatically entrust a random person to work with them. My friend Robert had a similar experience when he contacted a philosophy professor at the UAQ to ask about being his research assistant. Even though I kind of hate walking through the streets and get a little rageful while waiting for cars to let me cross, there are times when I am awe-struck by the level of humanity here as well. I have made promises to myself that when I move back home I will be better at greetings, better at saying goodbye, I'll stop and chat with co-workers more often and really listen when they chat with me. I still miss home and I still wish there was a fast lane on the sidewalk, but I'm grateful that Mexico is teaching me to approach strangers with compassion rather than impatience and distrust.

Ode to Mexico City

Beautiful Polanco, your streets are lined with embassies and mansions
Conveniently located next to el Bosque de Chapultepec
While strolling your streets, I long for a salary expansion
But sadly I make a measly Fulbright check.

Most of my time was spent in the hip La Condesa
with perfectly groomed dogs and strong cappuccinos
Cajeta cupcakes and malted milkshakes in diners
food from Japan, Argentina, and Venezuela were placed on the mesa
Into the giant park to see modern art near the house called Los Pinos
You make me miss a little less my dear city of the Forty Niners.

Today went a little something like this

PUH-zl. Puzzle.

My Mexican Thanksgiving

I got a tip from another Fulbrighter that Couchsurfing was a good place to meet new friends. I signed up a while ago but hadn't gone to any of Querétaro's group's Thursday meet-ups yet. But then I saw they were organizing a Thanksgiving dinner and I was all about it! It was held a week early and attended by nearly 30 people, mostly Mexicans. I went with Robert, the other Fulbrighter here, and since we were the only US Americans, were asked to give a short explanation. I led everyone in giving thanks before we ate and cherished the familiar feeling of listening to what everyone is thankful for. Gaby and Daniel roasted a delicious turkey and it was accompanied by pasta, creamed corn, a tuna pot pie, another pasta dish, and mashed potatoes that tasted like pureed butter. I was thrilled to see that someone had found a pumpkin pie at Walmart and savored every bite. I followed it with bright green guayaba gelatin which may be the most delicious dessert I've had in Mexico so far. I had thought I wouldn't have an opportunity to celebrate Thanksgiving at all this year and was so happy to get to have a little bit of turkey and pie with a group of such friendly and warm people.

Las Pozas de Edward James

Soon after moving in with the Ramirez Fellowes family, Andres told me about this magical place in the jungle with an name I could never remember: Xilitla. He explained it was the adopted home of an eccentric British surrealist that was friends with Dalí as he showed me photos of this odd and incredible place. And then he showed me the music video Empire of the Sun filmed there and I was sold (Xilitla shows up at about 2:00).  I got a tip for a place to stay, the enchanting Casa Caracol, and I booked a room for Jamai and I.
We boarded our afternoon bus and started the 5 hour ride north. After a couple of hours, I suddenly remembered every one's suggestion to take Dramamine as we entered the windy, mountainous, Sierra Gorda roadway. When we finally arrived an older man ran up to us asking if we needed a ride to the Casa Caracol. We agreed to meet back in an hour after shaking off the nausea and getting some dinner. The man spoke a little English and told us about when he lived in Oklahoma City and worked back-to-back restaurant jobs for years. He turned down a rocky road with no lights and I thought his beat up truck was going to break down as we bounced over the stones and pot holes. He dropped us off in the dark and pointed down a hill where we wandered in the direction of a faint light. We carefully shuffled along until we finally the Casa Caracol. We were shown to our little room that looked so cozy and peaceful in the photos online. When we stepped inside, we were hit with a strong smell of must and a dampness that permeated the air, a result of Xilitla's subtropical climate. We each tried to hide our disappointment and went to the main building to watch movies. There we met the only other guests staying at the Casa Caracol, a group of four Russians who have been working as tour guides in Cancun for three years. They were extremely friendly and gave us one of their beers and offered to share their dinner as well. We watched Nosferatu projected onto the wall with ambient music playing instead of the movie's track. The main building was really interesting with a very jungley, hippy vibe. Geometric figures and books hung from the ceiling and there was little tent with a Buddha figure lit up by neon lights.

When I awoke in the morning, I explored the grounds and appreciated the beauty of the area. It is so lush and green, with plants dripping off one another. I spotted a neon green bee collecting pollen and tall trees with threatening spikes.

We ate enchiladas and drank rich, nutty coffee at the one little restaurant and headed towards Las Pozas de Edward James, just a couple minutes walking from the hotel.

The garden includes 80 acres of natural waterfalls and pools, and James' objective was to create a Garden of Eden.

For hours Jamai and I just climbed up staircases, across platforms, through walkways hidden from site by gigantic, leafy plants. We would catch glimpses of the waterfall from the tops of different structures and eventually found our way to the little pool of bright blue water. Jamai got in first and convinced me to join him. It was a Wednesday and most of the time, it felt like we were all alone. The structures were built between 1949-1984 and are covered in moss with pieces broken off in a few places. The whole area feels like an archaeological site of uncovered ruins, but instead of Mayan temples, they are surrealist staircases and cement orchids.

There are many areas that are cared for and easy to navigate, but a few paths lead off into the jungle and become faint dirt trails that pass between wild bushes and spider webs. Jamai and I followed the steep trail towards the Secret Garden where we found the shell of a building covered in vines. It was spooky yet romantic, perhaps because of the name and how far into the jungle it is hidden. We only stayed for a few brief moments, it was as long as either of us could last before letting our imaginations start to scare us.

Later in the evening, as we waited for a taxi to take us into the town of Xilitla, I spoke with a man selling coffee. He told me about how his entire family had worked for Edward James in some capacity and shared stories of his bizarre behavior, outlandish requests, generosity, and volcanic temperament. It seems like the locals are fond of their long-gone eccentric artist and that nearly every family in the town had worked for him at one time or another.

When we returned from town, we found the Russians building a fire. We sat with them for a long while, talking about languages, living abroad, and the perfect herb for potatoes that seems to only grow in Russia. As our eyes grew heavy, Jamai and I returned to our musty little room, checked for spiders, and fell asleep wondering about the bearded Englishman that turned the jungle into a work of art.

Kickflips

I often say Jamai won me over with his skateboard tricks. When we first met, we would travel between our apartments by way of the Panhandle. One of his favorite things to do was ride his skate and hold onto me while I walked so I'd pull him along the bike path the separated our homes. Because of dog walking and generally busy-ness, Jamai hadn't been skateboarding as much in recent years but as started to get back into it. I was probably just as excited as he was when he said he was bringing his skateboard to Querétaro. He found a skate spot and chatted it up with other guys while I worked one day and then I got to accompany him to the little skatepark in the Alameda park another afternoon. He says this trick isn't that great, but I think it is and I wanted to show it off for him.

My fiance, the skateboarder:

Día de los muertos

Jamai has come and gone. Such a long awaited trip done and over so quickly. It was simply amazing to have him here, introduce him to my host family, show him my city, and take him on a couple quick trips. He arrived just a couple days before Día de Los Muertos, the holiday that celebrates the return of the deceased for a night of celebration, and also the day my cousin Katie wed a wonderful man in San Diego. Jamai also came just days after my Uncle Steve suddenly and unexpectedly died. It was nearly too shocking to bear and very difficult to go through so far from family. Having Jamai here helped ease the sense of absence while I missed my family during such a major loss and a major celebration.
Normally I work on Saturdays but my school decided to give me the day off to celebrate Día de los Muertos. I had heard that the little town of Pátzcuaro in the state of Michoacán was widely known for it's celebrations and a handful of other Fulbrighters were going so Jamai and I made our way West. Pátzcuaro is on a lake that is dotted with little island pueblos, Janitizio being the best known for Día de Los Muertos. Just around dark, we boarded a lancha and left for the island. Janitzio is a steep mountain plunked down in the middle of the lake with a huge statue of Morelos stuck on top. It was a steep climb up to the tiny graveyard where indigenous families were setting up altars on graves.

It was a weird scene, tons of tourists winding our way through the tombs, most of us trying out best not to step on top of the graves laying so closely together. We watched families sit quietly together, lighting candles and watching over their deceased husbands, wives, grandparents, and friends. It wasn't what I had expected to encounter after hearing so many people exclaim that Pátzcuaro was "the place" to go for Día de Los Muertos, it wasn't an event meant for tourists, but simply locals celebrating their loved ones.
On our second day there, we wandered through the town, shopped at the artisan market, tried delicious, handmade ice cream, and stopped by the Artisan Contest tent. The state of Michoacán is known for it's artisans and the contest displayed the best of the best! The art was really incredible, so delicate and detailed. My favorites were the Catarinas, clay skeleton dolls dressed in Victorian garb.

In the evening, Jamai and I went out to eat with the other Fulbrighters but didn't order quite right. We split a salad (as a rule of thumb, Mexico doesn't really do salad that well) and a delicious but small portion of a bean soup with cheese and sweet chile. After wandering around the market looking for a few gifts, Jamai and I went to another restaurant for drinks and decided to order a second dinner... I got the exact same soup (better the second time!) and Jamai got the mole enchiladas. We cheersed our fruity drinks to being together again, at least for a little while.

El Perdido

Today on my way to my volunteer gig at CutOut Fest, I saw a tiny puppy frozen in the middle of a busy intersection. Two cars passed by him and one was headed straight for him when I put my hand out to make them stop and scooped him up. Everyone who had been standing by watching suddenly disappeared and there was only one older man left. I asked him where the pup had come from and he had no idea. He said he was from Tijuana and couldn't take the pup so I brought him to the CutOut Fest office with me. He glued himself against my chest and trembled. He's been a big hit around here and luckily they all knew what to do with a lost pup so hopefully we can find him a home. I would love to take him, but I don't know if my stipend could really cover the cost of vaccinations and transporting a dog internationally. But isn't he the cutest?

Warning: Conserve your water!!

I just put on a clay face mask and when it was time to wash it off, no water would come out of the tap. I don't really get why, I know that water doesn't always come through the pipes into homes at all hours of the day here in Mexico, but for that reason the family has a water tank in the patio (if you've seen the photos of my house, it's disguised as a pretty water fountain). The tank is full but the tap is empty. I had to use a glass of drinking water to wash off my face (the tap water is not potable here and water is delivered to homes each week). This leads me to my warning to all my U.S. American friends: conserve your water!
Querétaro is going through a major population boom, they say about 70 new families move here every day. The city was rated has having the second highest standard of living in the entire country, it's very safe, and has a strong economy. Angela, the mom around here, has said she is certain Querétaro will be facing a water shortage in the next few years and plans to build another tank. I have always been extremely concerned about wasting water, ever since I saw this cartoon on Sesame Street of a fish's pond being drained as the kid next door left the tap running while he brushed his teeth. Today's face mask incident inspired me to bring my crusade to all of ya'll's attention. Many countries in the world do not have ready access to water the way we do in the U.S. and we will not always have an abundance of fresh, clean, potable water flowing from out taps. Please do what you can to conserve this precious resource. There will be a day when the tap doesn't run all day, every day in the U.S.

**I wrote this blog post last night but couldn't upload it because we also lost internet. Carlos Slim may be the richest man in the world but his internet is extremely lacking.**

When I kind of went to Cervantino

This past weekend I went to visit Guanajuato and check out the International Cervantino Festival. I had heard such great things about it, mostly things like "it is the coolest!", "you're going to Cervantino? You're so lucky, it's amazing!", "Cervantino is the greatest!" and so I packed my bag on Friday and hauled it to school with my on Saturday with the intention of being on the last bus to Guanajuato at 6pm. I arrived at the ticket counter and proclaimed my need for one ticket, please! But guess what! I wasn't the only one planning to go to Guanajuato that night as the bus was sold out. I booked a seat for the next morning and dragged my bag home.

I arrived in Guanajuato at 10:30 a.m. the next morning and the kind taxi driver took me on a little detour to show off some of the most beautiful buildings his city has. Alia told me to get dropped off in a little plaza where she met me and brought me to breakfast with 6 or 7 other Fulbrighters. It was such a nice surprise to see so many friendly faces. Two had to leave that morning and the others were going to Dolores Hidalgo, a little town with great historic importance nearby. I was eager to see this Cervantino and stayed behind with Alia, who is living there, to check out the scene. 

You know when you get this huge, blown out of proportion expectations and then you go, "oh, what was everybody so excited about?" That kind of sums up my Cervantino experience. It didn't help that I arrived on a Sunday and hadn't done my homework to figure out what events to go to. Basically my trip was a nice visit to Guanajuato and there just so happened to be Cervantino posters all around. Sunday Alia walked me around town and I picked up a beautiful ceramic frog and lizard I had been eyeing to decorate my classroom with next year, but at a lower price than I'd seen anywhere in Querétaro. We had a lovely dinner with the other Fulbrighters before they took the midnight bus back to Mexico City and were in bed at a reasonable hour so Alia would be ready for work the next day. 

On Monday I wandered around by myself and came across an enchanting looking cafe and was drawn in by a piece of art that reminded me of a wave.

I ordered the seasonal fruit plate and a delicious sounding mocha. Looking through the shelves, I came across a book of poetry by José Martí and thought my day was off to a brilliant start. My breakfast arrived and I was a bit dumbfounded by the thimble of "coffee" and plate full of cantaloupe and apple. Frankly, it was probably the worst breakfast I had ever had. The coffee was itty bitty and half of it was the grinds and the cantaloupe was just plain awful. At least I had found the book, after just a few pages I was loving Martí's writing. I went to pay and discovered that the little pencil note on the inside cover that said "consulta" meant it was only to be read in the shop... total fail. I went next door and ordered another coffee and some molletes (french bread with beans and cheese on top) and started over. 

Next I went to the Universidad de Guanajuato to see the exhibit of Diego Rivera's drawings. So romantic sounding, isn't it? Seeing sketches and drawings of one of Mexico's most famous artists at the beautiful, European style university! Oh but wait, "pencil sketches? Aren't those just practice drawings?" you may have asked yourself. Why yes, yes they are. Far from the masterpieces they would later become, the sketches were.... boring.

To the mummy museum! Guanajuato is known for it's Museo de Momias and I would not, could not, miss it. The city is built amongst steep hills, which creates beautiful views of the nearly neon and sherbet colored buildings. It also makes any walk into a hike. I followed the signs for the museum until they led me to a steep staircase. I started to climb and paused. "Is that a hand? Maybe it's a fake hand and I'm at the museum." I thought as I saw an eery figure dangling outside a window tapping against the side of the building.

I stared, not knowing weather it was real or fake. I saw the face that belonged to the hand and still couldn't determine what I was looking at. Finally, I continued to climb the steps and realized it was indeed a real human being. I pointed up the staircase and asked "¿el museo?" he nodded his head yes and I moved past his window. When I finally made it to the top, I was faced with a cemetery. It seemed quite appropriate considering where I was going.

 The Mummy Museum was around the bend and when I arrived, I realized how weird it was of me to go it alone in a hall full of mummified bodies. A few of them had little stories that went along with the body, but most of them were simply on display.

 I met a family from Santa Rosa, just north of San Francisco, who were there visiting family. We were in the extra creepy room with the skeleton that looked like a vampire and the mummy in a coffin full of metal stakes that pierced through his body. 

I headed back down the hill to meet up with Alia and wasn't paying attention as I walked down the stores. I heard a loud voice shout from directly above me and I screamed and ducked and covered. It was the man with the hand who I had spoken to on my way up. I burst out laughing and sputtered in Spanish "I've just come from the mummies! You scared me!" He laughed and I continued giggle to myself as I headed back into town.

That night, Alia and I attempted to go to one of the Cervantino events, a free performance of a band from Uruguay with multi-media effects! We sat in the cement-seated stadium and did our best to watch and listen, but the music was mediocre and the "multi-media effects" were weird videos that weren't very interesting either. We left early and went back to Alia's house and watched a movie on Netflix.

Guanajuato really is a charming city and I was happy to have the opportunity to visit. I was a bit let down I didn't get the full effect of the Cervantino, but what can you do? Such is the risk of high expectations.

11 Awesome Things About Mexico

One of the program directors posted this on the Mexico Fulbright Facebook page. The US media loves sensational, violent, and tragic stories and so that's the picture it paints of Mexico. There is so much more going on in this country that we ever hear about back home. Here are just 11 of many reasons why Mexico is great.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/05/30/11-awesome-things-about-m_n_3361229.html

Things that are new

I've been in my new home for a week and I could not be happier with the move! That isn't to say I suddenly have friends and a happening social life, yesterday I didn't even leave the house! But it was Sunday and there was something so nice about not really wanting to leave the house. I Skyped with my parents (I miss you!!) and ate lunch with the whole Ramirez Fellowes family (the folks who are sharing their home with me). I watched old Mexican movies starring María Félix and Pedro Infante. I talked about how much governments let us down (i.e. by shutting down! And in the case of Mexico, not having a way to process crude oil so having to sell it to companies outside the country and then buy it back as gas), the prospects of the solar energy business in Mexico (who has 100,000 pesos we can borrow??) and how we can reduce water waste.
Other nice things that happened this week were: going to lunch with the two Ramirez Fellowes sons and one of their friends on Friday and being teased about the English misuse of the words lemon and lime. Lima is Spanish for lemon and limón is Spanish for lime. And after a few weeks of "assisting" in an advanced grammar class where I was really something between a student and an observer, I spoke with my mentor about doing something else and began teaching my very own English class this past Saturday. It's intimidating. I am in charge of preparing them to pass an expensive and mandatory exam and I don't have a curriculum to follow so I'll be creating it on my own. But I'm also excited and there is another English teacher who seems to be confident in my abilities and willing to guide and support me. And today I bit the bullet and ordered a new computer. This old gal apparently has some hard drive damage, perhaps from the time I spilled coffee on her...... and will be returning to the USA a bit earlier than expected.

I feel like I'm in a space of anticipation. The heavy homesickness seems to be behind me, I'm happy and comfortable in my new home, and I feel like I have a good balance of challenging work to do. I'm not exactly where I hope to be, though. I still have a constant sense of subtle discomfort and a lingering shyness, but it feels like I'm on the edge of breaking through it and finding that sense of ease and belonging that I so much look forward to.

Mi nuevo hogar

I moved! JP, the first and only friend I've made (so far!), found me the most wonderful place to live! His friend from college, Andres, lives with his family in a part of the city that I constantly visit and each time I think "I would love to live in this area". Andres' family has been renting out rooms to foreigners for years and they have a room available! I met with Angela, the Canadian mom, and Isauro, the Mexican dad, on Friday and moved in on Sunday. Their eldest son, Alexis, and his fiance, Fer, also live here along with a Turkish student, Burga. They are very warm (obvio) and have a lovely home.

My bedroom window.

View from the entrance.

Dining room.

Kitchen.

I'm in love with the chairs!

The library.

Living room.

Fire place in the sitting/family room.

Sitting room? Family room?

Poco a poco

After writing that last blog post about feeling homesick, I felt a bit better. Just getting it out there and recognizing it helps. And then my parents and I made a Skype date and just having a time in which I knew I'd get to see their faces and talk to them helped, too. And then I spilled coffee in my bag. The bag that was also holding my computer. And my screen suddenly went black. Oh the horror! My lifeline, my connection to all that is familiar! I brought the old gal over to the Centro de Tecnología and choked back tears as I explained what happened to the kind tech guy, Carlos. He told me to come back in 24-hours and I sulked my way back home. Lucy kindly let me borrow her computer so I could talk to my parents and oh how I moped! Nothing like the parents letting you just stew in your self-imposed misery. They were every so sweet and promised me a care package (which I'm sure will arrive any day now, right Mom and Dad?) and I felt a little lighter.
I returned to Carlos will hope-filled eyes to learn that the pieza madre (it's kind of funny trying to communicate about technology here. I have no clue what the pieza madre is in English but it all sounds so much more dramatic in Spanish, the mother piece! Dun! dun! dun!) got the worst of the coffee spill and my computer was in a grave state. I returned two more times before she was finally dry. Carlos pulled the ole "we couldn't save her...... just kidding!" and showed me how she turned on again and toted how he had cleaned the fan so now she wouldn't get so hot so fast. I took her home and lived in denial for about a day, assuring myself she was equally as slow as she was before. But alas, my nearly 6-year old computer may be at the end of her life because apparently playing a YouTube video or moving between Firefox and Microsoft Word are now causes for spazzing and freezing. Oh the spinning rainbow of doom.....

With a broken computer, a conflict with a coworker, and feeling a bit lonely, it felt like the few steps I had made out of homesickness had been erased. But then, something wonderful happened! Allie came to visit. Allie is another Fulbrighter who lives in Pachuca and got a ride with her friend Javi and his cousin Victor and Victor's girlfriend Irma. They are all incredibly warm and sweet. I adore Allie because she has a vivacious and gregarious approach to life and it's simply infectious. Hanging out with Javi, Victor and Irma also reminded me that yes, I do indeed know Spanish, as we talked about US race relations, if D is a vitamin or hormone, and Mexican slang. It's like they collectively hit my reset button. I finally bought myself a yoga mat, painted my nails yellow, and rededicated myself to worrying less about my correctness and just communicating as much as I can in Spanish. And get this! Irma's best friend is moving to Querétaro and they're going to put us in touch. And obviously we'll las mejores amigas.

I'm still looking for a new place to live and feeling a bit hopeless in that department. Although, I went into CutOut Fest today and two people said they have friends with open rooms here in the center. And last night Robert and I started our Spanish class and our teacher was impressed and excited about our level of Spanish. Jamai comes to visit at the end of the month and I'm starting to plan out some trips for us that I'm really excited about. Poco a poco, I'm moving through this stage of living abroad and looking forward to making it to the other side.

La sujetavelas

When I moved to Mexico, I hit the ground running. I wanted to push my comfort zone, meet new people, not sweat my Spanish and just take it all in. I made it about a month until all the effort I put towards being positive and enjoying every moment of this experience toppled. I'm homesick. I'm a little bored. I've started to watch a lot of t.v.

I feel like the homesickness hit me all at once. I woke up on Saturday, September 16th wanting to cry. And that feeling has been living in that space where your tongue meets your throat and creates a tightness that turns your voice into a croak and seeps out from behind your eyes no matter how hard you think you're smiling. I take longer to get out of bed and also to fall asleep. In the spaces where I once felt comfortable in my inexperience and obviously foreign accent, I feel myself retreating.

Yesterday I went to the Sierra Gorda and Bernal with my co-worker Lucy and a guy she's been talking to, Paco. They have just started to get to know each other and are not quite dating but are headed in that direction. Robert, the other Fulbright grantee in Querétaro, was supposed to come with us but came down with the flu and had to cancel at the last minute. I was faced with spending the day alone in Querétaro or getting out of town for a few hours with Lucy and Paco. I felt so awkward tagging along but couldn't bare the idea of staying behind either. I taught myself the word for third wheel, sujetavelas and interjected myself into their day date. The funny thing about the second language is the worse you feel, the worse you speak. Holding back the tightness I quietly tried to join the conversation from the back seat and got stuck in a self-correcting loop of babble. I leaned against the window and listened to Lucy's music drown out their flirtatious teasing.

The landscape was beautiful, a vibrant green covering the rounded, rolling mountains. Paco took us to a short waterfall hike where the light blue water flowed through the sienna rock bed. The waterfall was extra strong from the recent rains and as it crashed into the pool below it sprayed mist, the word I had tried to describe to my English students the day before with an amateur drawing on the white board. Mist, fog, overcast, cloudy, trying to help them expand their vocabulary in preparation for their Cambridge exam. It was such a beautiful place and I was so lucky to have been driven there by the wonderful and generous Paco, yet all I could think of was Jamai, my partner in adventure and my sense of home, miles and miles away watching a slow bike race in the Golden Gate Park. The tightness clenched in my throat and I squinted eyes, trying to hold back tears as snapped a few close ups of the waterfall's mist to show my students.

Today I woke up to the frantic beats of the spinning class music, shoved ear plugs into my ears and slept for two more hours. I lingered in my room uploading photos and figuring out how to rotate a video I took on my camera. Robert and I met up to go sign up for a Spanish class together. We laughed at our daily blunders and our overly dramatic descent into apathy. Together we made jokes about the man that gave me a hard time when I asked where Avenida Tecnología was when it's really called Avenida Tecnológico. I looked at another apartment I don't want to live in and bought a couple books. Tomorrow I'll wake up before spinning starts and head to the CutOut Fest office and keep looking for the humor in this silly part of the process of getting used to a new place and another language.

Getting to know: Hello Seahorse!

Hello Seahorse! is kind of a big deal in Mexico.  They've joined together with CutOut Fest to hold a contest for an artist to create a music video for this song, Frontera. But for now, just enjoy their trippy melodies and haunting vocals.

FOOD!

Mexican food has been one of my favorite types of food for a while. Since moving here, it has been a struggle to get myself to eat at home when there is so much to try. This week Querétaro has been celebrating La Fiesta de la Exaltación de la Santa Cruz, a local remembrance of its history and ancestry (which I will discuss in a later post). Because of this, there was a TON of food in La Plaza de La Cruz, the center of the fiesta. I was thrilled when I came across all of the food tents and walked up and down the aisles as I struggled with indecision until I came across a woman selling pozole.

I've been battling a cold this week and steaming bowl of pozole rojo was exactly what I needed. Two women were already sitting at the stand when I arrived and expressed how valiente I was as I added in some spicy chili sauce to help clear my congested head, which made me feel like I'm really learning to hold my own here in Mexico (and not to brag or anything, but last night at a BBQ someone else was impressed by my ability to eat and enjoy the hotter of the two salsas.). I then went to a stand where a woman was making gorditas, tacos, quesadillas and sopes all with blue corn flour tortillas. I asked for a gordita, one of Querétaro's specialties, and froze when the woman asked what I wanted in it. There were literally over a dozen ceramic bowls full of possible fillings in front of me and I didn't know what any of them were called. I stuttered "¿tiene flor de calabaza?" because I'm still kind of excited by the idea of eating flowers to which she replied "solo en las quesadillas" and showed me a quesadilla with zucchini flower and melted cheese. The blue corn tortilla added an excellent flavor to the cheese and flower combination. I also listened closely as others ordered gorditas so I'll be prepared next time.
I wandered back through the tents considering which of the sweets I should try. I had seen one that looked like a sweet potato latke at one stand went back to find out what it was.

I chose the latke-looking sweet, a dulce de leche and a lime rind filled with candied coconut.

The latke look-a-like turned out to be fried coconut. Good but not as exciting as I had hoped. The coconut-filled lime rind was my favorite. It took me a minute to realize I could eat the rind as well which added a nice tangy, citrus flavor to the sweet and smooth coconut. That was by far my favorite of the desserts.

And as I left the food fair, I decided I hadn't eaten enough vegetables and stopped for an elote on my way out. Because obviously mayonnaise and cheese covered corn is an important part of a balanced diet.

Why Mexicans are basically the best

- I was walking behind a group of teenaged boys who were shuffling along the narrow sidewalk after school got out. I was thinking to myself "jeez, could they walk any slower?" when one of them noticed I was behind them and then told all of his friends to move aside so I could pass. TEENAGED BOYS ya'll!

- Caro got dumped and insisted that she cook for me!

- When I couldn't find the street for the migration office, I asked an older woman who didn't recognize the street's name. She then brought me into the shop behind us, asked the woman behind the counter where the street was. When that woman didn't know, the older woman insisted that the shop worker call the office for me. She then noticed I was going to migration and knew exactly where it was (just didn't realize it was on that specific street) and walked me to the street, gave me her phone number and made me promise that I would call her if I need absolutely anything at all.

- When I say "gracias" to someone who has just provided me with a service they pretty much always respond with "gracias a usted". Sometimes it becomes a ridiculous game of thanking each other, but either way it is extremely sweet.

- I noticed a small boy of about 7 years old and his even smaller sister of about 5 years old walking together in their little school uniforms. She was pulling a little backpack on wheels. The brother took the bag and pulled it for her.

- You should see how patient they are when they teach me how to dance! I am usually super embarrassed to dance but here, everyone is so sweet and understanding of my lack of experience, I feel totally fine as I struggle with basic steps.

- Basically after meeting anyone knew, they always say "if you need anything at all, if you have any questions, we are here for you!" It can be that sweet lady I met in the street, the bartender, the yoga instructor, or the friend of a friend of a friend. They say it sincerely as they offer their friendship and support.

#gringamoments

- Every time I take coins out, I had to study them closely, front and back, to make sure I'm choosing the correct ones. Just like my second graders last fall.

- Crossing the street is like my own, self-imposed, game of Frogger in which I take one step into the street, one step out of the street, two steps in, two steps out. Eventually a local crosses and I follow inexcusably close behind.

- I have botched so many greetings! Mexicans kiss on one cheek when they greet but sometimes, sometimes! they hug, too. I can't tell when. (Ellen, if you're reading this, this #gringamoment is dedicated to you.)

- I accidentally said "I pooped" when I meant to say "she (the new puppy) pooped"......

- I brazenly assumed La Corregidora (a revolutionary hero) and La Zacatecana (a local murderess) were the same person and wondered why the woman that worked at the Zacatecana museum was clueless about La Zacatecana's other house in La Plaza de las Armas. Turns out it was La Corregidora's house and the museum employee does, indeed, know her shit.

- I forget to disinfect my vegetables and then must do without.

- I forget my vegetables in their disinfectant bath for many hours when 15 minutes will suffice.

- I walk around in a tank top, skirt, and sandals and pass people in jeans, sweatshirts, and boots. I sweat a lot, they seem to be just fine.

Translation Station at the CutOut Fest

This past week I started volunteering with a festival called CutOut Fest at their pretty office in the city center. I met the founders, Bianca and Miguel, through a mutual friend at a bar last week, emailed them on Friday and started on Monday. The festival was created to fill the giant gap for animated film and art here in the Americas. Apparently, there are very few festivals of this kind and many animation artists must travel to Europe to show their work. The festival is in its fifth year and the staff is seriously dedicated, organized and motivated. I met with the Head of Programming, Daniella, when I first arrived and she gave me the run down on the huge need they have for English translation. The artists come from across the world so CutOut wants to ensure that the information is understood by the widest audience possible.

I started by translating a brochure needed to attract British businesses to the festival. CutOut has partnered with an organization called This is GREAT to attract creative talent from the United Kingdom. It took me about two hours to  write the first draft of the translation and by the end, I was so fried, I could barely even speak English, let alone Spanish! A funny thing about translating is that you start to forget how to say things in your own language. I can spend many minutes on four word phrases, wracking my brain to remember how we normally say "debuted at number one on YouTube" ( I had to ask myself, "is it 'debuted as or at?'"). I spent 30 minutes trying to translate the tagline for a music video contest. Given, it was a weirdo artsy farsty musiciany phrase that started with "hear with your eyes", but 30 minutes nonetheless. A few of my friends who are innocently on gchat while I'm at CutOut Fest have fallen victim to my messages asking them "does this sound normal to you?" with various different translated sentences to follow.

I'm really happy I found this gig. It's really challenging in a fun way and I think it'll ultimately help my Spanish as well. Plus, I've never felt like as much of an expert as I do as the sole native English speaker in an office full of Mexicans. Not to mention, I want to be BFF with all the people there, hip creative types in their cool boots and wearing pretty lipsticks. And there's a cute dog that comes in everyday, too.

First day of classes

Lucy, the other English teaching assistant arrived yesterday from the UK. We will be working together this entire year, assisting Maestra Mercedes and Maestro Jaime on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. We started today at 8am with Mercedes' class of five students preparing to teach English in high schools and studying for the Cambridge exam. Having such a small class size is really great for learning a second language. It can be intimidating and embarrassing to test out new vocabulary and practice complex grammar structures in front of a large group and having a trusting environment is ideal for learning a new language. The class is based on curriculum that uses British English and it's interesting to read the text and listen to the audio while focusing very acutely on the way they use language. I've never realized just how different English is in the U.S. from English in the U.K. The language of the curriculum is also quite rich, using a wide mix of interesting vocabulary and phrasing. I don't remember the audio tapes in my Spanish classes sounding so varied, although I also don't remember understanding them that well either.
Mercedes asked Lucy and I to explain the difference between journey, travel, trip and way. It was quite challenging, especially to do it on the fly. From now on, Mercedes will email us the lessons she wants us to prepare in advance, but asked us to give journey/travel/trip/way a go this morning so we could get our feet wet. We also tried to explain the reason why you say "when I was a tour guide" instead of "when I was being a tour guide". I really do love the nuances and subtleties of language and although my explanations weren't as smooth as I would have liked, I really enjoyed this first class and look forward to planning and teaching more lessons.
We had an afternoon break and returned to school at 2pm to observe in Jamie's class on grammar. It's based on comparing Spanish and English grammar and was quite interesting, at least for my inner grammar geek. We talked about grammatical units and parts of speech, seriously some of my favorite topics. I finished the day back with Mercedes in a beginner English class where I led a conversation group of about 9 students. I adore language and teaching and am thrilled to be teaching language to teachers. I had them introduce themselves and then talk about why they want to teach and witnessing them lose their initial inhibitions and start to trust the group enough to relax and have fun with English was extremely satisfying. Today was a good day.

Look who moved in today!

Name TBD

The little pup has yet to meet the elder of the house, Fergi:

Fergi knows something's up.

Saca la bici

Last night's bike ride was amazing! Robert, the other Fulbrighter living in Querétaro, came on the bike ride with me. JP picked us up in his truck and brought us to the meet-up spot at Cerro de las Campanas, which is where Emperor Maximilian was executed on June 19, 1867.

 

JP lent me a single-speed blue cruiser with pedal brakes. We road for a couple of hours through the cool night air, passing by neighborhoods and people cheering. It was very similar to San Francisco's Critical Mass except the bikers respected the cars and the cars respected the bikers. People called out when we rode over topes, speed bumps, and chanted "Beso! Beso! Beso!" anytime we passed a couple walking together. And hey there, look what we came across!

The aqueduct! We road along it's entire length!

The ride is every Wednesday night. I'm now hoping to find a used bike I can buy for the year and go on this ride regularly.