It seems that very suddenly this month, the rainy season stopped.  The water droplets and hail of biblical proportions evaporated, as though a giant switch had been thrown in the sky.  In their place of the rain we started to get a cold snap, going from -1 degrees at night to 20 during the day. 

It’s tricky to be prepared for this mountain weather because I have to wear about three layers of clothing every day.  Huge sweaters and mitts in the early mornings, a light long sleeved shirt or jacket for the late morning, and a tank top for the mid afternoon.  The layers come back on as the day turns into night. 

I have never liked cold weather, which is the obvious appeal of a country without snow.  What they neglect to tell you about Mexico is that it can be really chilly in the mountains with this altitude, and people don’t have heating in their homes or workplaces. 

This weekend it got so cold that my hands and feet felt numb.  I could see my breath in my apartment.  I am wearing sweaters to work out at the gym and a coat over my pajamas at night. I have also been confronted with an old problem, which is having cold feet before going to bed.  If my feet are cold, I can’t sleep, so I soak them in a rusty old pot.  My northern stubbornness kept me from buying a heater all of last year and these have been my only solutions for the chill.  

I was recently browsing the aisles of the supermarket, when I spotted the ultimate solution, a deluxe foot soaker, one that promised to warm my popsicle toes before bed.  It almost called out in Spanish to me… until I noticed the very inexpensive little heater beside it, vice number two. 

As fate would have it, I decided on the spot that I couldn’t live another winter waking up to see my breath, so I bought the heater.  I still try not to use it because of all of the power shortages in my area, but after running from the shower to my room, it seems blissful. 

CNN Weather for Mexico City- http://weather.cnn.com/weather/forecast.jsp?locCode=MEXX

There are days where I feel like the most brilliant, prolific Spanish speaker in the world.  I know that I’m making mistakes, but they don’t even bother me, I just let the words slip off of my tongue and glide into the air.  On these days I’ll talk about global warming, llamas, the quality of socks that I find in the market, anything. 

Other days, I feel like a clam, a child, frustrated that the thoughts in my head won’t turn into something meaningful in my mouth.  I understand every conversation.  I always get my point across, but I want that point to have the same meaning as I can give it in English. 

I learned how to speak pretty quickly, and then got a bit lazy, letting new vocabulary words come to me rather than purposefully searching for them.  This week I learned the Spanish words for ¨hard drive¨ after my laptop died, and ¨bee¨, because for some reason, the word just kept catching my eye.  That’s usually the case; I seem to hear a certain word over and over so I look it up and learn it. 

The way I learned the majority of my Spanish was through music and the radio.  It was great as an endless supply of speech at regular speed, media that didn’t care if I pronounced things a little strangely or if I paused to use a dictionary. 

No matter how I mangle it, with my abilities in Portuguese and Spanish I can communicate with 470 million more people in the world.  Que padre!

-  On Thursday a bill was approved to make gay civil unions legal in Mexico City.  Rock on human rights! 

 -  Xempa sometimes grinds her teeth, and it’s just as cringe-worthy hearing it from a rabbit as it is from a human.

  -  Some revolutionary clowns set off three bombs in the city last week, but nobody was hurt, and perhaps surprisingly, I still feel safe

 -  Arnold Schwarzenegger came to Mexico to promote trade, but uh, he still wants a big wall between the two countries.

 -  My neighbourhood is protesting the possibility of a Walmart moving into the area, but I secretly sort of want one.  Agh, glamourized by the sin of foreign capitalism!

I realized that my Ontario driver’s license is going to expire soon and I don’t think I’ll be able to replace it in person.  This is a big problem, because if I don’t renew it, I could have to start the process over again, including driving with my parents! 

I came up with a solution, which would be to get a license in Mexico City, one that would never expire.  With a foreign license, I could apply for a Canadian one without a problem.  It’s a roundabout way of doing things, but it’s a loophole. 

The thing is, I’m not keen on taking a driver’s test here.  I’ve been told that I will avoid the road test because I already have a license, but I’m still paranoid.

It turns out I probably have nothing to worry about.  I recently talked to a 19 year old who had just learned to drive.  When she went to get her license, they didn’t make her take a road test, they just gave her the license.  She said that in our state only truck and bus drivers need to take a test, and that test is written. 

Yesterday on public transit, I managed to find a driver who likely found a way out of his written test as well.  The bus was crowded and I was standing.  The driver braked his brimming torpedo so hard that I fell into the seat in front of me, leaving a large splotchy bruise on my leg this morning.  A lump of fear sat in my throat as the Mexicans on the bus yelled, ¨where the hell did you learn to drive cabron?!¨ I realized, it’s quite possible he never officially learned how to drive his own bus.  Taking my own test doesn’t seem so bad after that.  

I have gotten to know the friendly people at the bank and cell phone company so well over the past two weeks that they’ve remembered my name. Navigating their bureaucratic systems has made my brain numb. 

All I wanted to do in the beginning was change my address at the bank.  From my experience this means that I go to the teller and simply give them my new address.  Not in Mexico.  They asked that I return with a bill to show proof of where I live.  So, I returned with a bill with my name on it, but they wouldn’t take it, it had to be a certain type of bill.  I didn’t even have one, because I rent and don’t take care of any of the bills.  So you can’t get a product or service without having a bill with your address, but you can’t get new bill without being signed up for a service! 

Stumbling over this red tape has become a common occurance, a game.  There are problems with the type of ID I have and what month it expires, the occupation of a reference, giving a cellular number instead of a landline number, or even needing to describe all of the streets around my house.  The government has demanded certain types of forms to be sent to them immediately, only to ignore them for another three months.  A friend told me that so much bureaucracy exists in order to give people jobs.

The most frustrating thing is that Company X always assures me that everything I use to apply is fine and there will be no future problems… until I get the next phone call days later, asking me to bring the next piece of paper…