Postcards from Mexico: Daily Life

What Will They Lock Up Next?

Wed, 28 Mar 2007 04:05:34 GMT

I´m trying to check the final details off of my Chiapas trip list. One of my to-do´s was purchase a small lock, so I headed over to the supermarket.

I had a general idea of where they would be located, and when I arrived to the spot, I saw that the locks were locked behind a glass cupboard. If I wanted to pick up an air rifle, that would not be a problem, I would just go to the sporting goods... but locks are secured?

Other items kept from the reach of the public: toothbrushes, batteries, hair dryers, and Mentos. Yup, the Fresh Maker.

Chicken Swingin´

Sat, 24 Mar 2007 20:50:25 GMT

I live in one of the largest cities in the world, in a nice neighbourhood, across from a University, and my neighbours have started a poultry farm on their roof. I can´t see it, but I hear their rooster make the most woeful crow one can imagine.

Seeing this just makes me reflect on the bizarreness of my life in general. From lunches with powerful politicians, to watching people roll over broken glass in the metro... having my photograph taken numerous times for newspapers and magazines, to meeting drug lords at hockey games... chic nightclubs, to the neighbour´s children swinging a chicken around like a bucket. I don´t have the imagination to create a stranger reality.

Russian

Wed, 21 Feb 2007 03:04:19 GMT

The idea of identity and how we make judgements about others is something that I think about a lot. I find it weird that people will come up to me and suggest where they think I'm from, but I find myself staring at foreigners too, wondering the same thing.

With the simple addition of highlights to my hair last October, my whole identity changed. On a weekly basis, I hear,

"Are you from Switzerland? No? I was sure you were..."

"You must be German! Swedish? Um, Finish?"

"Your Canadian? Really? I thought maybe Swedish... definately European..."

I think some of this change in perception also comes with my accent. I pronounce my r's without the usual Anglo problems, in fact, I seem to be over pronouncing them- so much that my friends in Acapulco called me the Russian!

I laughed off the nicname until this morning, when my pilates instructor asked me where I was from. When I said Canada she stared at me, almost disapointed...

"Oh, I thought you were from Russia".

Visit Before you Speak

Fri, 09 Feb 2007 22:15:08 GMT

The article below was on the front page of the Toronto Star online. This topic has appeared frequently in the press, full of speculations by people who don't actually live here. Yes, there has been escalating violence in the country, but this is almost strictly between rival drug cartels. You have to take precautions and stay out of bad areas, but that's the same for any big city. The same foreign newspapers that warn people to stay away from Mexico feature daily local stories about shootings, hit and runs, drug busts, and fraud... I'm surprised Mexicans would want to go to Toronto!

This is not to play down the tragedy of these situations, but the coverage is getting a bit hysterical and frustrating to read from this end. I was in Acapulco the day of the most recent shootings, and would return anytime. I live in Mexico City, and haven't cowered in my house for a second.

Liberals urge Mexico warning

Feb 08, 2007 11:47 AM

Richard Brennan
Ottawa Bureau
OTTAWA – A Liberal MP called today for an emergency debate on the escalating violence in Mexico and its direct threat to Canadians.

"I believe it is important that Canadians are aware of what is happening to them when they travel to Mexico," Jim Karygiannis (Scarborough-Agincourt) told a news conference.

Despite the fact four Canadians met violent deaths in Mexico in the past year and others have been wounded in shootouts, the Conservative government has not issued a advisory against travel there by Canadian tourists.

"The minister of state (for foreign affairs) stated that no advisory will be issued as Canadians are not targeted, and I am wondering if Canadians have to have a big bullseyes at that top of their forehead ... in order for us to issue an advisory," Karygiannis said.

"We need to make sure that Canadians are protected," he added, particularly in the weeks leading up to school winter breaks and university reading weeks.

Party house leaders are meeting Tuesday to discuss the need for an emergency debate.

In a related matter, Liberal MP Ken Boshcoff (Thunder Bay-Rainy River) called on the federal government to pressure Mexico to officially drop two Thunder Bay women as suspects in the unsolved slayings of a Woodbridge, Ont. couple.

Domenic and Nancy Ianiero were killed almost a year ago in their hotel room on the Mayan Riviera.

As a result of their being named as suspects in the slayings, the lives of Kimberly Kim and Cheryl Everall have been turned upside down, Boschcoff said.

"The Canadian government has not taken up this case with the vigour and determination that it requires," he said.

Tipping

Mon, 27 Nov 2006 01:47:49 GMT

Tipping or giving a propina is ubiquitous here. I always have change in my wallet for a tipping situation.

What got me thinking about this topic was Día del Cartero or Mailman Day on November 12th. Every year the mail man will leave you an envelope reminding you that this is their day and they would like you to show your gratetude by giving a tip, about $5. Tipping is completely voluntary, but if you don´t you may find that your mail stops arriving as, er, promptly, or fails to even make it to your mailbox.

At the supermarket, we tip the baggers about $0.20, the same for a ¨car guard¨, about $0.50 for using the bathroom at a nice bar/restaraunt, a bit for mariachis who pass your table at dinner, for singers on busses (no matter how good or bad), 10% for restaurants... we don´t tip cab drivers unless they´ve been particularly helpful.

Sometimes people are quite aggressive and will tell you when you enter the bathroom or when you´re at a club that they would like their tip right away. They will even follow you to make sure they get the tip that they want. Being generous and paying up quickly is always a good course of action, to save myself from embarrassment, and, to help substitute the meagre wages in the informal economy, or the US $4.30 a day minimum wage.

El Frío

Tue, 21 Nov 2006 23:39:41 GMT

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

La Language

Thu, 16 Nov 2006 22:47:00 GMT

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!

Important News of the Week

Sun, 12 Nov 2006 03:45:37 GMT

- 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!

Livin´ La Vida Normal

Thu, 19 Oct 2006 19:59:00 GMT

Sometimes I go about my daily activities and something strikes me, something that I want to write about immediately. This has been happening less and less lately, for two reasons. Number one, I´ve been working like crazy and living a pretty regular life. I go the gym, go to work, go home, and go out. Same sort of places and mostly the same people. It´s comfortable and fun, but nothing to write home about. The other thing is now that I´ve been living here over a year, there is less and less that I find strange or novel. All good signs of progress, but not necessarily for my ¨postcards¨.

I saw a man running on his donkey through the suburbs the other day. I didn´t even know that donkeys could run, so I suppose that constitutes something writeable.

The thing that I think about a lot is the fact that my family is coming to visit in December, which means they´ll be here in less than two months. I´ve made a lot of mental plans but should probably commit to getting some more activities together on paper. It´s been a year since I´ve seen them, so you can imagine the anticipation to be reunited! This means I won´t be back in Canada until April... if that means you want to visit me and give me something to write about, I won´t stop you :)

Bermuda Triangle of Jewlery

Tue, 03 Oct 2006 02:18:47 GMT

Something strange has been happening in the misty mountains of Atizapan- my jewelry has been disappearing over the year. My favourite necklaces seemingly evaporate, and earrings wait longingly for their partner to come back.

My jewelry collection isn't expensive, but it's unique. I have pieces from around the world and they hold more personal value than anything. I honestly don't know what has been happening because I can't think of another time that my favourite ornaments have disappeared. I have a feeling that my own fatigue is responsible for this mystery, although it's more fun to blame a magnetic vortex in my neighbourhood. I'm grateful that the expensive jewelry that I do have is still in site and in order. For some reason diamonds don't have the same appeal as an Amazonian mask with real piranha teeth. Go figure.

The Dentist

Thu, 28 Sep 2006 00:44:31 GMT

I felt like something was wrong with a filling several months ago, and I decided that since it was time for a check-up anyway, I would go to the dentist. I found one through my insurance company and headed over. What I encountered was a room the size of a warehouse with a table and a little set-up in the corner. The dentist gave me a quick check over and said that I was fine. It was only after I heckled him a bit that he did a better check and cleaned my teeth- the thing he was most interested in was talking about Toronto and trying to sell me on laser tooth whitening. I was left really unsatisfied with the experience, especially when I had heard that Mexico has some of the best dentists in the world.

Last week I was eating an apple and lost the same filling that had been bothering me. There was a big jagged hole in my tooth and it was even cutting my tongue, so I knew I had to find a dentist again. I decided to do it the local way and ask my friends and co-workers for a reference. The problem was, nobody here goes to the dentist unless they have an emergency! This left me with no option but to search for an office by riding around on the bus. Caity's dad said he had seen an office without graffiti or a sign painted on the side, and I thought, that will be my first standard. My second standard was that the office had to look like an office at home and I would have an interview with the dentist first.

I realized that I would need to refine my Spanish for such an adventure. I could say, "I have lost the thing that covered my cavity" and "Please repair the hole in my tooth", but not, "I have lost my filling". Fortunately, my little phrase book had just the sentence and after repeating it a few times, I was on my way.

I went to a ritzy neighbourhood and found an office that seemed to meet my requirements. There were a lot of dentists there so I got in right away. I had my interview and liked the dentist so I let him go ahead. He got the needle out so fast that I didn't even see it. Phew! The greatest part was that the filling and check-up (no cavities) only cost me $50. That left me with two nerve-wracking experiences over with.

My Secret Identity

Sun, 10 Sep 2006 03:17:05 GMT

When I was in grade eleven, I used to sit beside a Mexican exchange student named Marco, who incidentlally got me interested in the country. Instead of concentrating on our English lessons, we used to write messages back and forth on the dividers of our binders. One of our favourite topics was to talk about Marco secretly being a spy named Paco.

Over the past three months, I too have slowly put my own undercover skills to the test.

I started to get a bit paranoid about the questions that people were asking me. The general list is: where are you from? Do you like Mexico? Do you like Mexican food? Do you like Mexican men? Do you have a Mexican boyfriend? Do you want to get married to a Mexican? But the questions sometimes get really personal, with many complete strangers asking me every detail of my life, even my address. The scariest is when people start listing off what they know about me when we haven't even met. I don't think it's naive to say that they are only curious, but still, the questions started to unnerve me a bit, especially when they came from men. So I started changing small details with people I didn't feel comfortable talking to- my name is Jennifer, I'm a student and I come from a variety of countries. Once I said I was from the United States and the market vendor asked if I could get him a green card. Nobody asks for work permits from the Great White North.

I was feeling pretty confident about my covert operations until Caity started wanting to be "Sam" when we went out. Then I realized that together we would be the most hopeless double agents in the country. I have enough trouble keeping the fine points of my own identity clear.

Rules of the Road

Fri, 14 Jul 2006 13:56:17 GMT

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.

Peeping Tom

Sat, 24 Jun 2006 16:46:31 GMT

Last Friday was the Mexico vs. Angola futbol game. I was going to watch it with my co-workers, but I wasn't feeling well, so I decided to head home to catch it.

About twenty minutes into the game I got up to get a drink, but instead I got quite a shock. There was a dirty twenty-something man looking into the corner of my window. He was a construction worker, working on the house next door.

My heart started racing, but I gathered my nerve and went over to him. He didn't even notice me though, he was too busy watching the game on my television! I got a bit bolder and went and put my face to the window and stared at him without an expression. When he finally noticed me, he almost ran away.

Innocent or not, the situation freaked me out and I immediately fixed the blinds that had fallen down. That was that... no more stolen glances at my game.

There´s a strange fever going around...

Thu, 22 Jun 2006 15:43:33 GMT

I´ve found an acceptable outlet for yelling, clapping, crying, whistling and throwing things at work- World Cup soccer games. I received a memo a couple of weeks ago from the head honcho encouraging me to leave my office and go watch the games... and who am I to disobey the big guy? If I felt like a real rebel and wanted to stay in my office, I could watch the game on one of two televisions that is turned on all day in the lobby...

I´ve been faithfully painting my face with the Mexican colours and cheering at their games. Many co-workers expect that because I am Canadian I must know almost nothing about soccer and will cheer for Mexico by default, but I love the game and know almost everything about the Brasilian team, my favourite. My deepest apologies to my hosts, but cultural assimilation can only go so far!

I realized this week that for the past three World Cup games I´ve been in soccer countries- in 1998 I was living in Brasil (when they lost), in 2002 I was studying in Italy, and now I´m living in Mexico...

Brasil had the most perks, because the entire country shut down for parties that lasted day and night- you could´t even expect public transit to be running during game time.

I didn´t have a lot of time to watch in Italy because I had no television and was so busy touring, but I could still feel the spirit everywhere.

Mexican´s aren´t quite as wild with their parties as the Brasilians, but they are increadibly expressive during game time! Horns, chants, hand waving, hollers, expletives, and standing ovations for good plays.

After all of this excitement, I´ve decided that I should make it a goal to be in a different soccer country for every World Cup, it makes me feel alive!

Counting Topes

Thu, 08 Jun 2006 13:54:01 GMT

Caity told me a cute story this week. On Monday night she had insomnia and was trying to find a way to drift back to sleep. Her solution was to count how many times she heard cars screeching to a stop to avoid flying over the topes or speed bumps. Our state has been slow on painting the topes and they´re hard to see at night. Ever the mathematician, she calculated that one in eight cars almost hit them.

That´s much more exciting than counting sheep.

Blast! Clamor! Clatter!

Sun, 28 May 2006 22:35:48 GMT

Mexico provides a serious workout for my senses. Warm spices mingle and flow with the diesel in the air. Foods like mole entice me with over thirty different ingredients, including chilis and chocolate. Houses are painted with rich, sometimes eye-popping colours like purple, orange or green.

The sense that foreigners might be most charmed or tormented by is the sense of sound. Visitors often say that they can't get over all of the noise here.

I live in what I would call a quiet neighbourhood. I can usually sleep without a problem at night, and find general peace during the day. A rooster crows early in the morning, and I still hear the turkey in the afternoons. I usually hear the tamale man and his loud speaker selling his goods at night. On the weekends, the banquet hall nearby sometimes has cumbia bands, and the neighbours blast 80s pop while doing their chores.

Dealing with the noise is 50% of my ears being used to it, and 50% perspective. For example, when those bands are rattling my windows, I don't get mad, I think about how lucky I am to enjoy some free live music. The rooster prompts me to stop ignoring my alarm clock, and the tamale man... well, he's just a part of my life.

This particular weekend I kept hearing a BLAST coming from outside. It sounded like a shotgun, but I preferred to think about fireworks. The thing was, I couldn't see anything that would make those sounds.

At 7am, the noises started again, and I finally got annoyed. Who would be doing that on a Sunday morning? I walked down the street later and found two men setting off these crackers. I was about to go up to them to ask them why, when I saw a procession of people gathering- families, a marching band and mariachi's. They were celebrating something, although I have no idea what. Who was I to make my own noise about their party? I believe in good karma, so they can make all the blasts, clamor and clatters that they want.

Neighbourhood Watch

Mon, 15 May 2006 02:32:00 GMT

This week I discovered a little fiasco with my snail mail- I hadn't been receiving my parcels and letters from home. When I went to the post office, the friendly people took the time to introduce me to my postman. Not only did he recognize my name but he also remembered what he had delivered for me and the names of the people he had given it to! It turns out that he had delivered my mail to another house of people who claimed I lived there.

When I went to this mystery house, I suddenly had a group of people behind me who wanted to help me get my things back- the local cab driver, the mail man, the "man down the street", and the woman who owns my apartment.

It was an empowering experience. People know who I am, when I'm coming and when I'm going. This isn't creepy at all, rather, it makes me feel like I've got a community of people who will help me stay safe and self-sufficient.

To end the mail story- the detective work paid off. I got a fantastic parcel from my parents, filled with Cadbury Easter chocolates. I shared them with everybody in my office, and of course I saved some for my neighbours.

Mexico City, Too Small?

Wed, 12 Apr 2006 13:18:10 GMT

Last week I took a small trip an hour from my house to buy running shoes. About four hours later I caught a micro bus on the highway and headed home. When I got pushed to the back of the bus, I saw my old roomate Lea!

Hundreds of micros go by any given spot in an hour. I don't even know what the statistics of running into somebody that you know would be, but there she was.

Has the second largest city in the world become too small?

Bungled Bureaucracy

Tue, 11 Apr 2006 15:17:17 GMT

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…

El Arco Iris

Sun, 02 Apr 2006 04:07:22 GMT

It's been unseasonally raining every afternoon for over a week now, pouring down on my apartment and my mood. Everything has seemed to be going wrong or falling apart- none of my keys have worked in their doors, technology has failed me at key moments, and I broke my favourite bottle of perfume. My dingy gray mop smells like Dolce and Gabbana.

Most of all, I have missed my family. One late afternoon while I was walking home, it started drizzling, disguising the tears that were welling up in my eyes. I wondered what in the world had brought me to this blasted country... but then my gaze fell to the other side of the sky. Rising from the damp pavement, the graffiti and the dirty sidewalks was probably the strongest, most colourful rainbow that I have seen in my life. The rain came down harder, but my tears dried instantly.

The man down the street

Thu, 09 Mar 2006 17:56:48 GMT

His brown eyes are shaded by his bushy eyebrows, but you can always see the smile behind his salt and pepper beard and mustache. He usually wears a dress shirt, cotton pants, leather shoes and his white cowboy hat. I could recognize that hat anywhere. He's the man down the street from me.

We see each other every morning at 6:15 and when I return late afternoon. Sometimes he's sweeping the sidewalk, or sitting on a bucket. He has a habit of tipping his hat to me and saying "buenos dias" or "buenas tardes". He is very cordial during our encounters, but what he's waiting for is for people to arrive with their cars for a parking spot. Like many people here, he has claimed a piece of public road and charged people to find their spot and to guard their car. It's a little illegal, but entrepreneurial to say the least. You can find these men everywhere.

What impresses me about this man is how seriously he takes his job. He's always cleaning up that piece of road, even though he has no real obligation since it's a public space. He's also dressed nicely every day.

I periodically make a mental list of questions that I would like to ask him. What is his name? Where does he live? Does he like the job that he does with such diligence?

What really got me thinking about this mystery man was when he was absent this week. I don't know if he was sick, or busy with another venture. However, as I emerged into the hazy glow of my street this morning, there he was, greeting me with his smile and "buenos dias".

Innovative English

Wed, 08 Feb 2006 22:55:51 GMT

By being next door to the United States and living in McWorld in general, it’s worrisome but not surprising that a lot of products and names here have been influenced by the English language.

I was in some stores the other night and came across a set of pajamas that were supposed to be advertising for sheep. They said, “Wanted: cube and fiuury, must be able to count”. I often see things in English that are misspelled. Sometimes I want to buy the product simply for the entertaining mistakes.

A lot of other garments have properly spelled, but suggestive phrases written on them. I wonder if parents understand that their ten year old little angel is wearing pants that say “I love cute boys” on the behind.

Other pieces of merchandise are named in ways that leave me scratching my head. For example, I found a baby stroller that was named in English as, “The Free Life”. The only way I could picture freedom with that thing is if I got into it myself and had someone push me around. The word free must be key- I also found a pair of nylons called “Free Land”. What are those referring to?

Language statements can work the other way too. One day a young guy came up to me wearing a shirt with a famous cola logo that said “Come Caca” or “Eat bleep” I asked why he would wear such a thing in front of me. I guess he didn’t think I would understand. After I pointed it out, he looked like he would melt into the floor, and quickly borrowed a friend’s sweater to cover up.

Um, the sky just fell

Wed, 01 Feb 2006 16:54:30 GMT

Caity and I stopped by my place last night before Lea joined us for dinner on my patio. As I arrived to my door, however, I knew that something was really wrong.

Huge slabs of white plaster were lying on my floor. A third of my ceiling, which had cracks in it before, had fallen down. Amazingly nothing was broken, and it missed my laptop by a foot. It missed Xempa by even less. I can´t imagine what would have happened if it had fallen on me instead.

I went to get my landlord. As she was coming up the stairs, I realized that I didn´t remember how to say ¨ceiling¨ in Spanish. All I could do was nervously laugh and say, ¨um, the sky just fell¨. I´ll never forget the word techo again.

So, this long weekend I´ll probably find another place to crash, while they repair my sky.

Six Month Statistics

Mon, 16 Jan 2006 21:40:51 GMT

Number of taco stands that I pass each day- 3

Numbers of times I've seen donkeys carrying tequila (burros tequileros)- 2

Number of names in my cell phone- 35

Number of times I have eaten fried worms- 0

Number of times I have heard Roxette on the radio- 34

Number of times the power has gone out- 11

Number of times I thought I would meet my demise on the micro bus- infinite

Number of foreigners I’ve met- 21

Number of nights I’ve gone to bed before 9:30pm- 120

Number of wild animals I’ve seen, other than stray dogs- 5

Number of times someone has said “yes” when they mean “no” and “no” when they mean “maybe”- 100

Mi casa... no es mi casa

Sun, 08 Jan 2006 18:42:47 GMT

I got back to see the place that I would be renting, and it turns out the the photos they posted for the apartment were actually of another one. They claimed they were the same (or that the one in the photos was a bit bigger), but in reality, the one in the photos was a lot bigger. I was presented with sometihng the size of a shoe box for the same amount of rent, and would not be able to keep Xempa. I've been looking at other places this morning... it might become my new occupation.

Mi casa es... mi casa

Thu, 29 Dec 2005 16:45:50 GMT

I couldn't resist adding some photos today, of the apartment I will be moving into in another week and a half. The rent is pretty good and covers everything, including cable and internet. I'll add some of my own touches (ie. no more fake flower decor) and then it will be home sweet home.

Milk, Tortillas, Military Hardware...

Mon, 28 Nov 2005 16:07:47 GMT

I went to my friendly neighbourhood supermarket yesterday evening. There have been a lot of changes there because of renovations. The most striking element I noticed when I entered the door was the five uniformed men with assault rifles.

This wasn’t the first time that I have seen weapons in Latin America. Instead of video cameras at the bank in Argentina, there was a man perched in a crows-nest with a gun. In Brasil, two military police adorned with machine guns and smiles sat on each side of me on a bus trip and proceeded to hit on me. How do you turn down a guy with one of those?

I felt nervous and flushed when I passed the armed men in the store, even though I had no intention of stealing my veggies. I hope that Loblaws doesn’t get any ideas from this.

Fin de Semana

Mon, 22 Aug 2005 16:35:11 GMT

Have you ever thought that your street was a little complicated to spell for people, or a little long? I remember last year in Woodstock, people were in a small uproar over the name of their new street, ¨Wendy Calder Place¨. The name was just too long, they argued. Well, I guess they would have a terrible time in South America. Both Mexico and Brazil have a fondness for huge street names. For example, a friend of mine gave me his address, with the name ¨Ingeneiro Manuel Marroquin y Rivera 24¨. Try filling out government forms with that one.

I did fill out a very unconventional form this week. It was for the Federal Police (I think) and asked me questions such as my eyebrow type (scant, bushy), nose (straight, large, flared nostrils, I don´t remember), body type, hair type... so if I ever go missing, they can look for a caucasian woman with straight brown hair, green eyes, and small eyebrows, nose and mouth.

As you can see from the new photos posted, we had a little party at the apartment this weekend. It was a Fiesta de Traje, or Potluck party. There was a little bit of everything- guacamole, mango salad, japones (great Mexican peanuts), orange baslamic rice (my speciality) and of course, deserts! Rice pudding, frozen oreo pie, cake... unfortunetly for my waistline, desert was the only thing that was left over for us to eat.

The highlight of my week was actually yesterday, hanging out with my friend Hector. He and I have been friends since he and his brother came to Canada on exchange 8 years ago. He had promised to take me around the city to do things, and definately stuck to his word.

The first part of the invitation was to a futebol game, but I sadly felt like I should do a bit of work that morning. He came to pick me up in the afternoon, and we went to his family´s home in Coyoacan (Frida Kahlo area). He has a wonderful family, who served me some of the most interesting food that I´ve had yet. First, was a tequila shot for all of us, and a glass of white wine. This was followed by pumpkin soup, and the main dish- a giant pepper stuffed with peaches, breaded on the outside. The final touch was a sweet cream, pomogranate and an herb poured on top. It had some spice with the sweetness... mmmmm! I could eat many of those, if they weren´t so enormous.

After dinner, we went to a very strange alternative theatrical performance put on at Hector´s university, UNAM. I love the arts because they transend my problems with understanding Spanish.

After the performance, Hector asked if I wanted to go to church with him, it was down in his old uni neighbourhood. I said sure. When we got there, the streets were filled with what looked like a carnival. I asked what was going on, and it turned out that it was a church festival, the festival of Maria Reina. We went into mass, which was pretty casual. Fireworks and rides were blaring in the background, and nobody flinched or looked twice.

After the service there were fireworks. As the priest and alter boys were getting the fireworks set up, Hector mentioned that they were illegal in Mexico. I asked why the church would be partaking in illegal activity... the priest responded that it was Mexico. Another tradition of the church that you might not see in Canada was the ¨Burro Tequilero¨or Tequial Donkey. It apparently carts the tequila down the street for the parishiners. I didn´t get to see this little burrito myself, but I have other photos that I will add tomorrow.

So, back to the grind. I start Capoeira again tonight. Wish me luck, I have a feeling that it will be a slow walk home.

Cut Off

Sat, 13 Aug 2005 17:26:39 GMT

We all know that it´s important to pay our bills on time, but it doesn´t usually matter if you send them a couple of days late, you´ll still have your services. Not in Mexico.

My roomates and I recieved a series of bills the first week that we moved into our apartment. As we hadn´t actually used the services that we were charged for, we passed the bills onto our employer who said they would take care of them.

One day we woke up and had freezing cold showers. It turns out that our gas had been cut off. We had to pay the gas bill to someone in the building, something that we couldn´t have known, and voila, cold water. Fortunetly as soon as we paid the gas was turned on.

The next thing to go was our phone. We picked it up to make a call, and a woman´s voice said, ¨dear customer, your account has been suspended until you pay your bill. When you pay, your service will immediately be reinstated¨. The thing was, our bill had been paid, we talked to our employers and the person who had lived in our place before us. Strangely enough, people can still call us though. I think that my cell phone was my smartest purchase here so far- about $50, with $30 of airtime, and unlimited value in sorting out our problems (or getting locked into my office, like today).

The icing on the cake came the other night, when the electricity went out. It was storming outside, and we thought to ourselves, we can´t possibly be having another problem with a bill. Fortunetly, a few hours later the lights came back on...

So you may be wondering, how in the world did these hopeless girls end up living in a foreign country?

The cool thing is now that we have all of this sorted out, it´s really easy to pay bills. We can just go to the bank down the street or at work and pay them there.

After five days of feeling miserable and not being able to talk, I went to see the doctor. I had a throat infection and got meds... feel great now! However, my poor roomate Lea Ellen was the last victim to our bug, and was down for a couple of days too.

Jen asked, ¨So, um, what do they put in burritos in Mexico¨? Well Jen, I try not to think about things like that too often. It´s like being a passenger in a car and seeing a bus barreling towards you. I don´t ask the driver to save us, I just look the other way and hope for the best.

In all honesty, there are a lot of foods that are similar here, with slight differences and names. Tacos are tortilla with a filling and have been fried. Enchiladas have a filling and a sauce poured over top and are not fried. Burritos have a filling, no sauce and are not fried. Don´t quote me on these things... I´m sure my friend Jose Luis will read this soon and correct me where I´m wrong!
Cheers y´all! Sami

Photos Nuevas

Thu, 28 Jul 2005 23:43:38 GMT

Hey everyone,

I just sent a giant email, as I have found a stray wireless signal from 'home' today; hopefully you got the big update.

I have found some wonderful things this week, such as Pina Coloda flavoured YOP, prepackaged creme caramel, and Los Simpsons on television. Strange things included finding out that students here recieve random drug and alcohol tests throughout the year, and seeing mopeds being sold in furniture and grocery stories.

I have some new photos posted... feel free to check them out.

Take care, I have no idea when the next update will be. Cheers! Sami

Map of Mexico and Mexico City

Tue, 19 Jul 2005 19:15:28 GMT

Here is a map of Mexico City. I'll be in the top left hand corner, in the State of Mexico, not quite the city. Doesn't look like I'll be able to get into trouble here... I'll add a photo of the country to give you an idea of where the city is too.

http://www.maps-of-mexico.com/distrito-federal-df-mexico/mexico-df-distrito-federal-mexico-map-main.shtml

A profile of Mexico created by the Government of Canada is available at:

http://www.voyage.gc.ca/dest/ctry/country-en.asp?country=184000