Probaditas de Morelia

End of the Line

2007-05-16T23:40:00.000-07:00

I don’t want to write this. I’ve put it off for almost two weeks as I’ve been struggled to find my words. But how do you sum up 15 amazing months? I don’t think you do. You admit they were the best 15 of your life and that you’ve never been happier and you move on.

So let’s hit some of the basics -
I’m home, in California.
Marisol is coming in July to hone her culinary skills in San Francisco with some more schooling. I’m currently looking for a job. We are living with my parents until I find a job at which time we plan to move to San Francisco.

I imagined I would want to share my final thoughts after almost a year and a half in the mountains of Mexico but now that I’ve come to it, it just doesn’t feel right. So I’m going to save that for more personal conversations that I hope to have with each of you when we have the chance.

I will say that it’s good to be home but I miss Marisol more than I thought possible.

I’ve also decided this will be the last Probadita. It was incredibly fun writing this blog but now is the right time to wrap it up. Thanks to all of you who have read my stories and shared your comments.

Before I go, here are the last photos I have from Mexico. The weekend before I came home, we took a trip to Ixtapa on the west coast of Mexico. As some of you may recall, Marisol took me to Ixtapa for my first weekend in Mexico, making this a fitting end.

Mexican sand and surf

The best of friends

The good life revisited one last time

What it's all about

See you soon!

Combis

2007-05-01T00:34:00.000-07:00

I've waited too long to introduce you to the world of Combis.

Combi - From the German "Kombi," is the Mexican name for a Volkswagen bus. Here in Mexico, Combi is also synonymous with a form of public transportation made up of VW buses. Most towns have some form of Combi-based public transportation. Morelia is no exception.

Combis and Me
Riding in a Combi is a hot, sweaty, cramped, neon lit, bad music filled, yet extremely friendly experience. I have developed a love/hate relationship withCombis more complicated and nuanced than any relationship with a fleet of buses should ever be. For most people, the Combi isn't something you contemplate. It is just one of those constants without which life wouldn't quite be the same. Morelia has hundreds of Combis driving dozens of routes that will take you almost anywhere for 5 pesos ($0.50).

Equipment
Most Combis are still VW buses although new, more comfortable, yet totally vapid Nissan vans claim an increasingly large presence in the fleet. All Combis have a U-shaped bench lining the walls of the passenger area thus leaving the middle open for the unfortunate standers. 99.9% of Combis pack a super fancy, color changing, huge display having, mp3 playing, satellite ready CD player hooked up to between 1 and 4 speakers that appear to be 40-100 years old. A classic generational mismatch that results in a unique aural experience. 50% are equipped with neon or black lights and customized interior trim packages. 2% have TV screens and about half of those are functional.

Getting On Board
Actually getting on board a Combi can be challenging. There are many reasons why a Combi will simply pass you by including overcrowded combi, distracted driver, or super-sonic ground speed, although the most likely reason is that you are standing in the wrong place. There is no map nor any marked stops. There are, however, strictly defined routes and official places where theCombi will stop if there is someone standing there. Like lots of things here, you just have to ask someone who already knows.

Pleasantries
It is customary, upon boarding a Combi, to say the appropriate pleasantry. Most of the time this is "good afternoon" or "buenas tardes" to which everyone in the Combi replies "buenas tardes." No on likes a passenger who forgets the pleasantries, they bring everyone down a little. It is also common to offer to hold the bag of anyone not lucky enough to have a seat. An amazing display of courtesy I doubt you will ever find in any US or European city of 1 million people.

Drivers
There are only two types of Combi drivers: fast and slow. Most drivers are in their thirties and although some are very young, none are old. This is a young man's game. The best drivers race around the city in a boredom induced, dream state, pretending they are racing at Daytona. These drivers typically have a broken, over-sized racing tachometer bolted to their dashboards and modified, extra loud exhaust. Despite the risk of personal harm, these drivers are still preferable to their turtle-powered cousins. As their hazard lights blink away, these drivers drift from stop to stop, seemingly propelled by nothing more than the sighs of their desperate passengers. You can easily loose your mind at the hands of these dawdling devils as the entire Combi fleet passes you by, the other drivers slowing down just long enough to ensure you have time to take in their scorn. Yelling at the man behind the wheel for more speed is not advised.

The Come From Behind Victory
The worst part about riding the Combi is standing.
The best part about riding the Combi is also standing. But this time, three stops into your misery, you hear the sweetest sound in the Combi riding world, the click of the front door. The dramatic change of fortune is heady. To good to be true. The best seat in the house, up with the driver, is being vacated and being the last one on board, you are the lucky soul who gets the free upgrade. It's the come from behind victory that's guaranteed to make your day.

Combis in Real Life

The Classic VW Combi

A new style, Nissan Combi

A rare, inside view during non-crowded conditions

A Combi driving down the main street
in town with the cathedral in the distance

Birthday Kicks

2007-04-01T21:50:00.000-07:00

As some of you know, I have a bit of a tennis shoe habit. So you can imagine my delight when Marisol gave me these bad boys for my birthday.

They say "Mexico 70" on the sides.
(My respect to any non-Mexican who knows why.)

New tennies and me in the office

Something Special

2007-03-23T01:05:00.000-07:00

There's just something about the light in Mexico.
It's different. Softer. Warmer. Deeper maybe. But definitely different. Like a gentle filter added to life to make it more inviting, more friendly, and a little less urgent.

Although I imagine descriptions of color and light are best left to poets, I doubt even the pros could capture the enveloping glow that pervades every dawn and each dusk. My camera, equally impotent in this regard, must be incapable of processing Mexican colors with its cold aluminum body and Japanese eye.

Marisol first pointed it out, this issue of the Mexican light and its indescribable character. Few days have passed since that haven't found me stopped for a brief second, pondering its special quality. And now, when asked what I'll miss, my response is almost universally met with confused stares. Like I said, it's indescribable.

Birthday Fun

2007-02-10T23:04:00.000-08:00

I turned 29 at the end of January. We went up to Javier's cabin for a little Mexican style BBQ and relaxation.

Alfonso and Marisol

Howdy partner

Sherlock Holmes at your service

Head-star

Mexican style BBQ

Javier showing off his twirling light ball skills

One Year

2007-02-04T23:50:00.000-08:00

On February 2, 2006 I boarded a plane with all the essential worldly possessions I could carry, and moved to Mexico. Last Friday marked my one year anniversary.

I remember thinking that for the first time in my life I had absolutely no idea what lay in store for me. There were no older friends or siblings to give me some idea of what to expect. Moving to the middle of Mexico was uncharted territory and by most accounts, downright crazy. I was excited and terrified at the same time.

Looking back over the last year I quickly come to one unavoidable conclusion: this is the best thing I've ever done.

Carne Asada Nirvana

2007-02-01T22:18:00.000-08:00

Four steps to Carne Asada Nirvana...

1. Stoke the fire

2. Season your beef

3. Toss on the grill

4. Devour

Dedicated to J.G.

For the First Time Ever...

2007-01-17T23:28:00.000-08:00

More awesome than a panther.
More terrifying than a bear.

Nate with a beard.

Now in black and white!

Vamoosh

2007-01-08T00:40:00.000-08:00

The Friday before New Year's, my laptop was stolen out of the trunk of a Nissan Tsuru.

I've since found out that the Nissan Tsuru, until recently the cheapest car sold in Mexico, can be opened with the same facility as a can of coke, that is to say, almost effortlessly. A handy little piece of information for those of you, my dear readers, who are tempted to throw your not yet stolen laptops in the trunk of a soda can with wheels.

Afterwards, I vaguely remember uttering some obvious lies like, "It's just money," and "Who cares? Computers are for geeks anyway." And really, to be honest, I only ~~depend~~ depended on it for my income, music, movies, radio, news, and English language reading material.

Right. I've moved on now.

The spirited youths who stole my laptop also relieved me of the post-modern Spanish literature that I was slogging my way through and the dictionary that accompanied me on the slog. So now I'm reading a Spanish fantasy novel for young adults - dictionary not required. I've moved on.

Here is a picture of a typical Tsuru. Look at that trunk, don't you hear it calling out to you, just waiting to get torn up.
And the Wikipedia on the Tsuru:

It is the same basic car (as the Sentra) only with minor cosmetic changes and mechanical downgrades to make it cheaper, such as non-power steering, downgraded interior trim, a downgraded braking system, and a mechanical clutch instead of a hydraulic one.

A special thanks to Marisol's good friend, Daniella , who loaned me the computer that I am using to write this. You are a lifesaver Daniella. Thanks.

A Siegel Wedding

2007-01-03T23:50:00.000-08:00

Everyone loves a wedding. Michael's wedding was no exception.

Michael and I have been friends for almost our entire lives. We met when we were 3 years old, went to the same pre-school, kindergarten, elementary school, junior high school and high school, were on the same baseball team, and even had a spell as roommates in San Francisco. Junior year of high school we both thought we wanted to get engineering degrees based on the other's recommendation though neither of us had any idea what an engineer was or did. We took advanced chemistry together and then dropped advanced chemistry together as soon as we got into college. (The beginning of the end for our engineering aspirations.)

It was extremely emotional to finally see him get married but get married he did. Congratulations Michael, to both of you, it was a beautiful wedding.

I also must mention that Michael is also one of my most loyal blog readers.

At the alter

Just married

Freshening up before the reception

Mike Jensen was our trusty table companion

Marisol's red dress

Cutting the cake

Dancing

Gettin' down

Marisol got to meet Michael's Mom and little brother Mathew

Two handsome couples

The morning after.
Michael and Jen are all set to leave for their honeymoon.

25 years of friendship

New York, NY

2006-12-20T22:51:00.000-08:00

My consulting work has allowed me to loosen up the purse strings a bit in recent months. The timing couldn’t have been better as Michael Siegel, my oldest friend, was getting married in Connecticut and it was something I couldn’t miss.

Marisol and I decided to make a vacation out of it and spend the week before the wedding in New York City. The city was, as always, awe-inspiring. It makes me proud to know we have such a peerless city.

The trip begins at the airport in Mexico City
(after 4 hours of bus travel and two 30-minute cab rides).

Ahh, Times Square. Too bad that's a fake,
painted backdrop and not the real thing. Or is it?

This one is obviously fake, the
background proportions and coloring are all wrong.

This looks real. The park in winter.

We don't see a lot of cool guys playing
cool jazz on the streets here in Mexico.

The Chrysler Building,
my favorite NYC landmark, from inside the Empire State.

My, what a big shadow you have.

Freezing on top of the world.

Warning: Consuming obscene amounts
of delicious raw sushi at Yama may be habit forming.

My little chef in spice heaven.

Sarah Sunde was our awesome and gracious host.
We could not have stayed in New York without her help.
She is a famous director now and recently received
a very positive review in the New York Times.

The first stop of the long trip back.

Stay tuned for Siegel wedding photos in the next post...

Mexico Through the Eyes of Kyle S. Smith

2006-12-04T00:26:00.000-08:00

As you may have heard, we recently received a visit from a famous photographer.
I am happy to present to you here, for the first time anywhere, "Morelia Through the Eyes of Kyle S. Smith."

The Cathedral at Night

Through the fence (ala barrière)

Don Quixote de la Morelia

The Church in Candyland

Patzcuaro

Old Lady and a Tree, Patzcuaro

The Heavens

Danza de los Viejitos (Dance of the Little Old Men)

The Glass Ceiling

Tortilla Heaven

Dried Chiles

Church Through the Trees

A Typical House Entrance

My Mexican Thanksgiving

2006-11-30T12:28:00.000-08:00

Marisol, my amazing girlfriend, decided she wanted to make me a Thanksgiving dinner so I wouldn't miss home during the holiday. I deeply regret that I didn't have my camera with me while we (she) was preparing the Turkey but I'll attempt to do it justice with words.

(Warning: Graphic depictions of food stuffs and gluttony follow. If you hunger easily or have eaten nothing but Turkey leftovers since last Thursday, you may want to skip directly to the pictures.)
First, she injected the turkey with white wine, and then proceeded to put butter, bacon, salt, and pepper between the skin and the white breast meat. This, she explained, was the critical step to enhancing the flavor of the white meat. The bacon mostly disintegrates during baking but the usually dry and tasteless breast meat soaks up all that flavor and and juice leaving it juicy and delicious. I could only nod my head in amazement. There was also a glaze of some sort that was brushed onto the skin and then a stuffing made of a dozen ingredients including ground beef, white raisins, almonds, celery, carrots, a bunch of spices, and five or six other special Marisol secrets.

Then there was the Sweet Potato Surprise, a specialty from my family that is topped off with nothing less than a layer of marshmallows. Marisol was skeptical, but consented in the end and I'm proud to say that everyone, Marisol included, raved about this dish. My grandma would be so proud.

Finally, she whipped together a pumpkin pie, from scratch. There were no pumpkins to be found anywhere so we bought a yellowish gourd about the size of two footballs and went to work. I was the most nervous of how this would turn out since it is my favorite single part of Thanksgiving. It, I shouldn't be surprised, turned out amazing. Perfectly spiced and perhaps the best "pumpkin" pie I've ever eaten.

Finally, there were the other usual suspects: rolls, mashed potatoes, salad, gravy, and cranberry sauce. A perfect Thanksgiving away from home.

Just minutes after ravaging our dinner.

Master Chef and, err, host guy.

Javier and Amandine.

A thank you kiss on the forehead.

Kyle & John - Global Wanderers: Part 2

2006-11-17T00:51:00.000-08:00

More photos with Kyle and John.

A now prominent feature of my apartment – an authentic English teapot complete with a knit tea cozy hand-made by an authentic English mom. It's hard to say who is more proud here.

In my kitchen.
Marisol is inventing an amazing meal.
I am holding a jar of mustard.

Posing with coche azul.

Kyle at one end of everyone's favorite street.

Jeans and jackets.

Jeans and sweaters.

We miss you guys.
Hope you are having fun wherever you are.

Kyle & John - Global Wanderers: Part 1

2006-11-13T01:50:00.000-08:00

Ahh yes, those two globetrotters Kyle and John chanced to stop by our little corner of the world a short while ago in route, they claimed, between the UK, Oregon, and New Zealand. They were fantastic guests and even brought me a real English tea pot all the way from, yes, the UK, thus cementing a properly brewed cup of tea as my latest obsession. Kyle took an incredible number of great photos. Here are six of them. More to come soon.

Kyle and John a few blocks from my place.

Standing in the middle of the main street,
"La Madero," right in the heart of downtown.

John enjoying Mexican culture with his first "Bandera." A set of three shots, one of Tequila, one of lime juice, and one of a spicy tomato juice concoction called Sangrita.
Bandera means flag and here each shot matches one of the stripes on the Mexican Flag. These shots are to be sipped (not chugged American style) in sequence starting with the Tequila. The combination when using good Tequila is a delicious treat as John can now attest.

Moments later John enjoyed another Mexican custom. I can never remember what this thing is called but it's a large, shared, tropical cocktail. Locals recommended caution when consuming these huge-bowl cocktails and Banderas in the same sitting.

Later that day in rainy Patzcuaro.

Planning the day over breakfast at the best hotel in Morelia.

More photos coming soon in Part 2...

Job Update

2006-11-07T23:32:00.000-08:00

I am no longer living between the lines in the truest since. Back in June I started a small consulting practice here in Mexico providing marketing services to US based companies. This is my job and I'm having a great time with it.

I’ve had four clients so far and two fairly long term engagements, one of which is still keeping my busy. I communicate with my clients via email, IM and Skype. I have a San Francisco phone number that rings here in Mexico so unless people specifically ask, they have no idea that I’m not in California. The completely digital, outsourced, information worker.

I’m working on a company website now and will post a link to it here when I finish. For now though, I’ve been spending most of my time just working on the projects for my clients so my own marketing efforts have taken a back seat.

I’ve got to say, working for yourself can be an amazing experience. I hope I can continue to find new clients. So of course, if you are looking for marketing help, or know of anyone that is, please pass on my name. Thanks.

Hard at work in the international
headquarters of Night Light Consulting

The Hoopty (Coche Azul)

2006-10-18T01:30:00.000-07:00

Is it the secret dream of every middle-class, suburban boy to some day have his own hoopty ride? For a brief moment I was living the dream. It pains me to write this now but that's how these things go. I was the official driver, though not owner, of an '88 Chrysler that was a bona fide hoopty. It was surprisingly big for a 2-door, didn't go fast, and wasn't quiet or discreet about anything. We had but a short while to get to know each other though I do feel I can say with confidence that groaning and hissing were high on its list of favorite activites. 18 years may not sound like much, but in Mexico time is not kind to mechanical beasts of burden.

This car, this big hulking mass, couldn't have been more different from my Jetta back home, but it did have a certain charm that took me completely by surprise. I was, in fact, quite smitten with my coche azul. Maybe it was the whoosh of the engine, barely audible over all the creaking, as I accelerated through the gears. Or maybe it was the industrial-strength power steering that made navigating at slow speeds an effortless dream. Or perhaps the simple, odd fact that it came with half a fishing pole and a pair of jean cut-offs in the trunk. But it was probably just my inner child finally driving that long lost, great American car that was the favorite companion of every cool rebel in every great movie from the 80's.

I figured it was only a matter of time before it left me stranded somewhere – the cause of a major traffic jam and the recipient of a slew of inventive curses involving donkeys and a dozen spanish words that never made it into any textbook. But I didn't care. I couldn't resist the siren song of my blue, creaky, hoopty ride.

But alas, it was not to be. Sadly, there was no dramatic blow up, no curses uttered, just a flashing "check oil" light, a cursory examination of the engine area, and the depressing conclusion that the engine was "loose" and spewing oil everywhere. Coche azul's owner gave me the bad news. "You best not drive her anymore. Well, not without a new engine or a complete overhaul," he laughed. I didn't cry. After all, we barely new each other, this car and I. But I thought we would have more time. I never imagined the end would come so quickly. It hurt. I cracked some jokes and he smiled, an understanding twinkle in his eye. He had also loved this car despite its many faults and could hear my pain through the gallows humor. I collected my glasses and a tape and gave him back the keys with a shrug. We had a good run while it lasted. What more can you hope for from a creaky old hoopty?

Coche Azul (rough translation: blue car)

Me with Coche Azul in happier times

Our Anniversary Trip

2006-10-07T01:20:00.000-07:00

We went back to the colonial town of Patzcuaro for our Anniversary this year. Patzcuaro used to be the capital of the state so everything there is a little older than Morelia.

The main square in Patzcuaro

Out to dinner

A cool old wall next to the main cathedral

A local celebration that involved running with torches. I believe it was a pre-party of sorts in preperation for the independence day celebrations.

The view from a great hotel in Patzcuaro. You can just barely see the lake itself off in the distance past the town.

Walking through one of the many lush plazas in Patzcuaro

Me and my lady

A Favorite Deadly(?) Topic

2006-09-28T10:00:00.000-07:00

A few notes on a favorite topic of mine – scorpions.

I found and killed my 3rd scorpion. This one was on my bedroom wall, stinger poised in attack mode, about 3 feet from where my head would be if I were sleeping. I started to go for the camera to document this small warrior but I noticed him tense up so I decided best not to lose the opportunity. I took of a shoe and wham, that was the end of Mr. I-May-or-May-Not-Kill-You-While-You’re-Sleeping.

This scorpion was much smaller than the fellow who received the Rim Chop. He was in fact the the exact same size and in almost the exact same place as the other one I killed in my bedroom. Maybe there is some merit to the “scorpions travel in pairs” theory. And this, my friends, is not comforting news. This means there is another, big, mean, recently widowed Scorpion somewhere in my apartment plotting revenge against the evil, scorpion hating giant who has taken up residence here (me).

Interesting scorpion fact: The word for scorpion in spanish is “la alacrán”. Alacrán is actually of Arabic origin and found it’s way into Spanish sometime after the Moors invaded Spain in 711. Many Arabic words in Spanish can be identified by the prefix “al-”. This is because in Arabic the word was actually closer to “al acrán”. The “al” being the Arabic definite article which in English is “the”. So the spanish heard “al acrán” as one word and added their own article “la” at the front, thus, “la alacrán.” (Or so I’m told). Other Arabic words in Spanish that follow this pattern include: almuerzo which means lunch and almohada which means pillow.

And not that anyone’s keeping score but just for the record:
Scorpion Army of Death: 0
Nate: 3

El Grito

2006-09-19T22:46:00.000-07:00

We just celebrated Mexico's Independence day. Every year, on the night of September 15th, the Mexican President repeats the cry for independence or "el grito" that was first yelled by Miguel Hidalgo in 1810. As I understand it the grito includes a lot of "viva this" and "viva that" and a little bit of "die you spanish scum." (Translator's note: Slight artistic license taken to aid the understanding of modern readers.) This same tradition is also repeated in all(?) or maybe only the largest cities of each state which, luckily for us, includes Morelia.

We made our way down to the city center to join the sombrero laden mob of people who came from the surrounding pueblos to enjoy the grito. It was absurdly crowded but we squeezed in on one side impossibly far from the main stage but still close to the cathedral which donned festive green and red lights for the occasion.

Now, people from lawsuit obsessed societies, such as myself, are used to a certain amount of safety precautions when attending a large, public event. But when the the fireworks began at 11pm it became clear that Mexicans aren't such a litigious bunch because these fireworks were neither safe nor distant. They were instead being launched from what appeared to be the middle of the crowd. I say launched but given the heights they attained, thrown is probably a more accurate descriptor.

The resulting pandemonium was thrilling. Industrial strength, 4th of July style fireworks were exploding everywhere and then falling, still ablaze, into the packed mob. The crowd lurched and ebbed as we jumped frantically to and fro to avoid the burning, red and green pieces of festive projectiles falling from the sky. We screamed in terror, we laughed, a few unfortunates probably cried, but for the rest of us, wow, what a show. I'm just glad we weren't closer.

After the smoke cleared, there were some cheers and whistling, and then for no reason that I could tell, the crowd knew it was done – the grito had been issued. I'm told someone official gave the shout but everyone admitted they hadn't really heard anything. Perhaps the official was all yelled out after his brief encounter with a premature, fiery death. Or perhaps, this year, it was left to the masses. We weren't exactly clamoring for independence, but we were screaming at the top of our lungs.

The Cathedral and a sombrero before the bombardment

Safely airborne

A burning, red projectile seconds before impact

Blissful chaos

A Matter of Priorities

2006-09-18T00:24:00.000-07:00

A friend traded his stove for a pair of sunglasses — bitchin, envy invoking sunglasses, yes, but still...his stove?

Five days later he left them in the back of a taxi cab.

Sad perhaps, but he did look really damn cool for almost an entire week.

Doctors - Effective Eventually, Most of the Time

2006-09-15T13:14:00.000-07:00

I’m sick of thinking about this and I'm sure you're bored of hearing about it so I’ll keep it short. It wasn’t Salmonella, it was/is an e-coli infection of some sort. I’ve been in bed for much of the last month but I think I’m finally through the worst of it. I’m sure you can move to a foreign country if you don’t know anyone but I really can’t imagine how. There is no way I could have made it through this month without the care and feeding of Marisol and her mom (also named Marisol).

In any case, I hope to be updating this page regularly again now that I’m finally on the mend. There are funny things I've wanted to share but I've been otherwise occupied imbibing a lifetimes worth of chicken soup. So stay tuned. More is coming soon.

The Best Year

2006-08-30T00:03:00.000-07:00

Marisol and I met one year ago today.
Five months later I made the easiest decision of my life and moved to Mexico.
And here I remain, happier than I've ever been.

Guadalajara: Part 2

2006-08-21T01:25:00.000-07:00

And finally, the second-half of the photos from our trip to Guadalajara.
(The first set can be found here.)

We stumbled into a museum. I forget which one.
This courtyard was my favorite part.

The main cathedral.

Marisol in the park next to the cathedral.

Mexico has many different kinds of markets. One example being the farmers market I've mentioned previously. This market, El Mercado Libertad, is a three-story Mexican version of... (Dear reader, we apologize for the interruption. The author failed to find any analogy worth printing. He was appropriately reprimanded for his offensive lack of imagination. Please picture something enormous and crazy. –editor). And well, everything you can imagine is for sale: CDs, DVDs, shoes, name-brand clothes, food, mariachi outfits, instruments, witchcraft supplies (see below), animals, and hot food. It was disorienting, wonderful, and assuredly not earthquake safe.

A store selling potions, herbs, elixirs,
and charms for all your witchcraft and wizarding needs.

Little boy playing in the fountain in front of the cathedral.

Shadows and the cathedral.

The Saga Continues – A Not So Warm Welcome Part 2

2006-08-15T00:10:00.000-07:00

(Part 1 here)
Three trips to the medicine cabinet, food, and regular bodily functions had done nothing for my pain. It was time to get serious. We consulted Marisol’s dad, a non-practicing, but U.C. Davis educated, vet. He prescribed a strong drug that was a sure cure.

That night we had plans with friends who we are always canceling on for reasons much less compelling than what I could proffer that day: the pain of trying to digest what I could only surmise was a bag of rusty, burning daggers. So we went. 25 minutes later I was limping up the stairs to my apartment thinking I just needed to lie down. Five minutes after that I was limping back down my stairs on the way to the hospital.

This was not a medical institution that filled me with confidence. The consultation fee was $4.50 and the “doctor” that attended to me wore fake, green contacts, a white t-shirt with a big heart on it, and had bleached hair tips. After some arguing with her apparently more experience doctor colleague I was told I had Colitis, given some pills for the pain, and an enormous injection of the same which left me grinning, giddy, and unable to read.

I woke up groggy but amazingly without pain for, oh, about half an hour. With a few more doses of the new medicine it became clear that it cured an illness I did not have. The waves of intense discomfort came and went with increased ferocity. By 2pm we were again in a hospital – this time the cities best – talking with what appeared to be a real doctor. Blood and urine tests and an hour of waiting provided the answer: Salmonella. Most likely from my own cooking. In Palo Alto. California.

Vital Stats
Taxi rides: 7
Different medicines taken: 6
Days of mind numbing pain: 3
Doctors visits: 2
Overly easy eggs consumed: 2
Ears accidentally pierced: 1

A Not So Warm Welcome

2006-08-10T23:11:00.000-07:00

It appears Mexico is not particularly happy to have me back. And I don’t mean the people – the land itself has turned against me.

It started with some basic, I’m hungry, abdominal pain. Post lunch it had increased to something more than your typical stomachache. We were briskly walking home with the dual purpose of raiding the medicine cabinet and beating the rain when, right in front of that beautiful aqueduct I love so much, something grabbed my left ear and yanked me backwards. Pain assaulted my senses. English and Spanish curses exploded from my mouth. Despite its tight grip, I was able to turn my head slightly to identify the culprit: a thin branch hooked on my earlobe. I stumbled back a few paces, giving in to the will of this tree-beast. Frantically detaching the branch from my head I found it was covered in extremely sharp hooks which were now dangling at a perfect human-catching height.

Marisol and I exchanged words as we rushed to my apartment with my now bleeding ear. Based on my velocity pre-attachment, the sharpness of the hook, and the force with which I was jerked backwards, I was sure my ear was now hanging in two ragged pieces. A quick look from Marisol surely would have answered this question but apparently I wasn’t in a sharing mood. Upon looking in the mirror back home I was relieved: my ear was gashed in the front and pierced through clear to the other side, but not split in two. Who the hell plants an ear-shredding conifer in such a public...oh, never mind.

Initial fears aside, nothing more than gauze and antiseptic were required to clean me up. More troubling however, was the realization that throughout this lengthy ordeal – it felt at least 20 minutes – my attention never left the now awful pain in my abdomen...
(Continued here)

Home Again

2006-07-30T00:20:00.000-07:00

It's good to be home. Weird and not weird at the same time.
I love San Francisco. That is a fact.
I miss my girlfriend a lot and wish she were here with me.
Palo Alto is much hotter than Morelia.
San Francisco is much colder than any place should be in July.
Sitting in traffic doesn't help you spend time with family or friends.
My niece is non-stop. Action. Talk. All the time. Impossibly cute. I'm biased but that's a fact.
Trips home can go to fast. I don't like to plan the days but wish I had.
Too much to do. Too little time.
Best city in the US? I'd say so.

The Approaching Storm

2006-07-13T11:03:00.000-07:00

Walking home in the early evening after a cup of coffee in the Centro I saw the sky light up in a flash, just past the mountains to the east of town. Despite the almost constant bursts of brilliant luminescence, the evening remained tranquil and clear as the storm had not yet decided when it would stop by, though with each step the wind rushing across my ears assured me it wouldn’t be long.

After 28 years I still can't get over thunder and lightening. With each new storm I'm struck by a halting sense of awe. On this young night I took a seat and watched as Nature pondered her course of action. In the end her verdict called for nothing more than a tantalizing peek and a lazy retreat, the grumbling clouds slip-sliding away to enchant some other corner of the sky.

Guadalajara: Part 1

2006-07-10T00:33:00.000-07:00

We took a trip to Guadalajara to see the sights and check out the town. Guadalajara is the second largest city in Mexico with 4 million people and is a three hour bus ride from Morelia. What struck me most is that despite it's size, Guadalajara has a very tranquil atmosphere.

I took this picture of an Agave field from the bus. Tequila is made from Agave which is a big, blue plant that grows all over Mexico. Only liquor made with the Agave from the state of Jalisco can be called Tequila. Everything else is, well, something else. Guadalajara is the capital of Jalisco.

Standing in front of a typical Guadalajara pedestrian street in the Centro. The climate in Guadalajara is just a little bit hotter than Morelia but still mostly mild compared to what you are probably thinking.

Normally filled with speeding cars, this busy downtown street is closed for business and open for pleasure on Sundays. An amazing idea that produces a wholly agreeable weekend atmosphere right in the heart of the city.

Marisol pretending she doesn't know I'm taking a picture.

Weigh yourself on this machine that must be 100 years old...only 1 peso!

Marisol enjoying her results.

Little Marisol in front of the big cathedral.

(Jump to the rest of the pictures here.)

Better than the Heimlich

2006-07-02T12:25:00.000-07:00

I learned a bit of first-aid yesterday. If someone is choking, repeatedly snap your fingers above their head and yell the following in their face as fast as you can: "Pájarito pájarito pájarito pájarito pájarito..."

Most of the time they will stop choking.

"Pájarito" means "little bird" in Spanish.

Click the play button for a professional demonstration.

powered by ODEO

Don't ask me. I just live here.

Living Between the Lines

2006-06-30T01:15:00.000-07:00

“I learned this, at least, by my experiment; that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.”

- Henry David Thoreau, “Walden”

I was thinking about how we measure success and specifically about what I’ve accomplished here in my first five months. If I went home tomorrow, what would I take with me? What would I say in my next job interview? Embarrassing, petty thoughts, but mine nonetheless. I’d love to blame them on my native culture, thoughts typical of Yanks who work too hard and enjoy life too little, but in the end their origin makes no difference. So what have I added to the world since I moved to Mexico? What accomplishments can I put on my resume? Well, nothing really. But I have learned something during my time here that makes me not care.

This “nothing” scared me at first. At one time I was on a path that may be familiar to you: AP classes, SAT tutors, extracurricular activities, an Ivy League education, and then an investment banking job in San Francisco. But I didn’t like that path. I saw myself rich and miserable in ten years. So I quit. Took another job with a better work/life balance but it didn’t sit right either. A number of events transpired to convince me the next step was a move to Mexico but that wasn’t a decision made with the mind. It was a leap of faith dealing with dreams and matters of the heart. I didn’t have to think about it and I’ve never regretted it.

I did come here with a list of things I wanted to achieve but so far, what I planned hasn’t come to pass. I started to feel bad about this but that was short sighted. It’s easy to obsess about the type of success you can measure and turn into bullet points but there is so much more to life than that. I’ve lived in a foreign country for five months. I’ve learned I enjoy writing. I’ve almost become fluent in Spanish. Most importantly, however, I listened to my heart and followed a dream, something I’ve never done before. I believe we die a little bit each time we shy away from a dream, avoiding the risk, sticking to the safe, well-trodden path, and I would forever be slightly less than whole had I not taken this step.

Despite our country’s, and perhaps the world’s, obsession with the intellect, I don’t believe you can think and reason your way to a happy life. Sadly, it just doesn’t work that way. Accomplishments and intellectual pursuits are a part of life, not the whole ensemble. If I’ve accomplished anything here, it’s that I’ve started learning how to live. It sounds trivial, but in reality we spend most of our lives working and worrying about the future, but never just living. But that is exactly what I’m doing here, living, at the most basic level: learning to communicate, cooking, eating, dancing, laughing, feeling, and loving. I’m sure there will be more bullet points for me to add to my resume in the months and years to come but for now, I’m living between the lines and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever accomplished.

Adventures with Bills

2006-06-27T01:15:00.000-07:00

My apartment doesn't have a mailbox. Luckily I don't get any mail. But what about the bills? You are dying to know. I sense this question burning deeply in your minds. I will not let you down. There are, it turns out, a few proven solutions to this problem.

Mail it anyway and see what happens. The post office here is more like the Pony Express of the 1800's without the ponies or any sense of urgency.
Pay your own people to walk around and shove the naked bill, sans envelope, into any available crack or crevice in the front of the house and hope it is found.
Don't send a bill.

Number 3 is my favorite. I've not paid a penny for cable internet for two months nor heard a peep from anyone. A call to the company confirmed that all systems are normal, they simply don't send bills. So now we wait to see who blinks first in this bloodless war of nerves.

On the flip side, I also can't pay my bills through the mail. A much less amusing problem. On bill day I walk all over the city to the various approved banks and convenience stores who accept payments for each bill. 7-11 for the water bill, a bank for the electricity bill, and if I ever pay it, the tiny cable office that lacks a street number or, according to the recepcionist, a cross street.

I write this not to complain about the reality but to share what could be with those of you frustrated that your local grocery store doesn't offer online billpay.

Let it Roll

2006-06-20T23:45:00.000-07:00

Just as we passed the top of the tiny hill the taxi driver turned off the engine. We coasted for a minute or so and slowly rolled to a stop at the next traffic light. That's odd, I thought.

He did it again as we were turning the corner close to my final destination. No hill this time. He just decided we had enough velocity to roll for a while. Turns out it we didn't. The engine belched a note of disapproval as he performed an ungraceful, rolling restart.

I'm still not sure if he was trying to save gas or just spice up his day but I it amused me nonetheless.

Hello There Bloggy Town

2006-06-16T02:00:00.000-07:00

Blogs are crazy. Yes, I know, a bold statement. Just calm down for a second and I'll explain myself.

I live here in Morelia. You all know this. You are my friends and I emailed you this page when I left. And yet not everyone who reads this got that email. How these things happen is beyond me. Google, schmoogle I say. Nobody is out there searching for me or "Probaditas de Morelia". And yet somehow I've met several people as a result of this page. The best example being our new friends Emily and Sergio.

Emily is from Michigan and Sergio is from Morelia. They met there and now live here. Emily has a blog just like me. Or I have a blog just like Emily (her's came first so I'm the unknowing Morelia blogger copycat). Somehow she stumbled onto my blog, emailed me, and we all had drinks and then tacos together. And the weirdest thing is that when you meet people this way you already feel like friends because you've read each other's stories.

I had no idea that I would enjoy writing this blog and I certainly had no idea that it would lead to new friends, but I do, and it did, and that is crazy.

Painful

2006-06-12T23:08:00.000-07:00

I know nobody cares but the US lost their first game of the 2006 World Cup. We have one of the hardest groups of the tournament and were soundly spanked by the Czech Republic (ranked #2 in the world) today in our opening match.

The World Cup is a huge deal here. When a game is in progress, if you happen to be walking around in the street, you can here the TV comentary seeping through the walls of every business and residence. People were generally nice about our loss but nobody feels particularly sorry for me given that four years ago the US knocked Mexico out of the tournament. People tell me it was one of the worst days they can remember. The whole country was in shock and it remains a touchy subject best avoided in pleasant conversation.

Anyway, I don't feel too bad because no one expected us to win and the Czech team scored three beautiful goals, but still, there is always that glimmer of hope.

Next stop, Italy. Ughh.

The Parental Unit: Part 3

2006-06-06T23:19:00.000-07:00

The final set of photos from my parent's trip to Morelia.

Marisol and her Mom as we wait for the boat at Zirahuén.

On the boat...three of my favorite pictures...

In front of the lake.
Thanks for coming! I had a wonderful time.

The Parental Unit: Part 2

2006-06-04T00:03:00.000-07:00

More pictures from my parents visit...

Marisol, me, and the aqueduct

The Parental Unit

Relaxing in a cafe downtown

Everybody loves this fountain

Are the people in this photo related?
You make the call.

Part 3 coming soon...

The Parental Unit: Part 1

2006-05-26T00:53:00.000-07:00

This is long overdue.

I've always known I had cool parents but their visit to Morelia reminded me of that in spades. We hit all the local spots, took a day trip to the lakes, and enjoyed tons of good food including a home cooked meal at Marisol's house. Mostly we just sat around and talked which was the best part.

Prior to my move to Mexico my parents had only met the girlfriend for a two-hour breakfast at our house in Palo Alto. This trip gave everyone a little more time to get to know each other. Marisol's mom doesn't speak English, the rest of the family does, so Marisol and I got in a good dose of translating.

The hotel my parents stayed is amazing and just happens to be the oldest hotel in all of Mexico. It first served as an Inn in 1752.

I'll have to break the photos into a few post because there are lots. Here is the first set.

Mom and Dad enjoying the good life in my favorite cafe.

Another church in Morelia, there are a million.

Marisol's grandparents were married here.

Dad and me in front of my corner store.

The oldest music Conservatory in the Americas.
I'm taking classical guitar lessons here every Saturday.

A few blocks from my apartment. Mom, who took this picture,
is standing under the aqueduct. I love the aqueduct.

All the Media Attention is Exhausting

2006-05-23T00:55:00.000-07:00

Look who was featured in a color picture in the most widely read newspaper in the state.

The caption reads,
"Local celebrity and hero, Nate Seaman, spotted enjoying a public art installation. Extra security called in to hold back crowd of screaming admirers. Mr. Seaman was unavailable for comment at press time."

Or something about Monarch butterflies...and...yeah whatever.
What do you want from me?! I'm still learning Spanish.

The Great Post-it Note Debate

2006-05-21T14:40:00.000-07:00

I stumbled across this car covered in Post-it Notes the other day and couldn't help but stop and laugh. I only had my cell phone camera to record the moment so the photo is a little fuzzy.

Each Post-it professed a different message of eternal love for the owner of this little, silver Chevy hatchback. "I love you", "I can't live without you", "I'm sorry", "I'm sorry that I'm this way", and "I need you" are just a few examples.

When I saw this colorful car, I instantly assumed this was the work of a desperate male who had screwed up in some major way and was now deeply afraid he had done irreparable damage to his relationship. It has all the trappings of classic, stupid male thinking. A last ditch act of desperation to show the strength of his love. To show he will go to any length to win back his girlfriend, yes, even so far as to cover her car in Post-it Notes. I've always felt girls were more clever about these things while guys assume that a show of "strength" or willingness to go to any length is what is necessary to save the relationship.

Marisol, on the other hand, upon hearing this story, immediately asked about the handwriting. I had to admit that it did look rather feminine. She feels this type of thing is clearly in the domain of the desperate, psycho-girl. The girl in question has decided the owner of this car is "the one" but he's moved on. She's not ready to accept this and feels a highly-public display with pretty pinks, yellows, and greens will win back the heart of her lost lover with the added bonus of scaring off any new hussy who might be with him when he returns to his car.

I fought it at first but she argues a compelling case. I hear the arguments on both sides. I guess we will never know which sex committed the crime but it still makes me laugh to see it.

The Commute

2006-05-17T00:50:00.000-07:00

I finished my Spanish classes a few weeks ago but never got the chance the share my walk to school with you. What a great way to start the day.

~1~

After leaving my apartment, the first step is a left turn onto the most beautiful street in Morelia, the Callejón del Romance. Throughout the evening this little one-block long street overflows with passionate, teenage lovers, each pair totally absorbed in the moment and oblivious to the rest.

~2~

Then past, Las Tarascas, a fountain named after the native people of this state that was stolen by a former governor and shipped to his house in Europe. The one you see today is a replacement.

~3~
Next, through a park that is lined with state commissioned shoe-shiners.

~4~

I always had to wait at this stop light to cross the busiest street in Morelia, La Avenida Madero, where you can find the Cathedral and all the most popular cafes in town.

~5~

Just past the main street, I cross through my favorite park in Morelia. The first time I saw this park, back during my vacation in September, I knew where I wanted to live.

Today I live five blocks from this spot.

~6~

Then two blocks down this typically residential street...

~7~

...past a beautiful little church with a relaxing garden.

~8~

I have often stopped to yawn in front of this rooster.

~9~

And then finally, the school.

Overheard in an Apartment in Mexico

2006-05-14T19:55:00.000-07:00

Hapless Male: (Looking in refrigerator) Do you think this pasta is still ok to eat?
Culinary Expert: No, probably not. You should throw it out.
Hapless Male: What? Are you kidding? It’s not that old. I’m sure it’s fine. I was a bachelor for years surviving on leftovers exactly like this slightly-funky pasta.
Culinary Expert: Honey, listen to me. Please don’t eat that.
Hapless Male: (Mumbles something unintelligible)

(The Next Day on the Phone)
Hapless Male: (Groans) Hello?
Culinary Expert: Is that you? What’s the matter? You sound terrible.
Hapless Male: Uh, well, you remember that pasta you told me to throw out? I was sort of eating that when all of sudden I was hit with the extremely violent urge to…
Culinary Expert: Oh no! Gross. Did you? Are you ok?
Hapless Male: Yeah, or I mean no, nothing happened. The sensation came fast and furious but I held it back. I’m in bed now, sweating. My face is pale...uh...er than normal, and the skin under my right eye is swollen and puffy. (Trying to sound upbeat) But actually I think I’m starting to feel better.
Culinary Expert: (Long Pause) Who told you not to eat that?

This dialog is a work of fiction. Any similarity between these characters and anyone you know, especially the author of this blog and his girlfriend, who may or may not be a professional chef, is entirely coincidental, ridiculous, and downright slanderous, so please stop thinking what you are thinking, unless of course you are thinking something other than what I think you are thinking and in that case, well, carry on compadre.

Small Town Weather

2006-05-11T17:37:00.000-07:00

Wow, that was a short summer. The hottest time of the year here is April and it was hot but not the kind of crazy hot you would expect from Mexico. The rainy season, which just began, lasts until September. Now every day at 3pm huge rain drops, and frequently hail (yes, the ice kind), plummet from the sky producing a staggering amount of noise as they crash into the roof of my apartment. The drops are of such a size that you can feel each one as it hits you, instantly soaking through to your skin.

You know those huge rain-gutters they have in the parts of the mid-west where it dumps buckets every day in the summer? Yeah, those don’t exist here so everyday the streets turn into wild, rushing rivers for one hour and life sloshes to a standstill. People stand in doorways and under awnings waiting for the worst to pass.

I suppose that’s the big difference between living in a big city and a small town. Although Morelia has more people than San Francisco, it retains the soul of a small town when it comes to things like rushing around. Nothing is so important that you can’t wait one hour so you don’t get washed away in a temporary river.

It's still early to make a definitive judgement on this but the rainy season appears to consist of hot mornings, rainy afternoons, and cool, clear nights and evenings. Very nice.

Red Cross Revisited

2006-05-08T14:31:00.000-07:00

I was looking through my website logs the other day, something I rarely do, when I noticed a lot of interest in the Red Cross Posters I wrote about. It looks like that post made the rounds, or at least a round, at the Red Cross offices in D.C. and California.

What a crazy world. How anyone from the Red Cross found my page is beyond me, but if you are still reading my page, hi. I hope you aren’t offended. I really do like those posters and I’m sure the U.S. based Red Cross also has an excellent sense of humor. ;-)

-n

Bug-Monster Update

2006-05-04T22:50:00.000-07:00

They weren't kidding about the heat bringing out the critters.

Smaller, still scary, scorpion in my closet. Not cool. The big one in the kitchen was very scary. A small one very close to my bed...uh, you know, more scary.
Cockroaches. Averaging about one per night on the first floor. When startled, those suckers really get up and move. I prefer the smash with the side of the broom over the foot stomp. Still gives me the willies every time I see one. Always flip onto their backs during the final throes of death. Not sure why.
Ants on my pillow. Gross.
Spiders in all parts. Are they preying on or food for the scorpions?
Unidentified, scratching sound coming from light fixture above my bed. Still working up the nerve to investigate that one.
All kinds of random winged creatures and crickets. Yeah whatever, see previous bullets.

Things to Do When Living in Mexico

2006-04-29T20:15:00.000-07:00

I received a great email summary of my first three months here...

As I have been keeping up on your blog, I have been remiss in writing to you. It seems that you have had quite the adventure already. I have been looking at the typical list of things to do on your year off in Mexico:

1. Get woken up by rooster - CHECK
2. Take Salsa Lessons - CHECK
3. Visit Itaxpa - CHECK
4. Make Salsa - CHECK
5. Conquer intricacies of Mexican Waste Management -CHECK
6. Dream in Spanish - CHECK
7. Visit open air food market - CHECK
8. Gueritos con sombreritos en Tzin-tzun-tzan - CHECK
9. Drink large bowl of booze with new Friends - CHECK
10. Insanely throw things at ants - CHECK
11. Visit Mexican Zoo - CHECK
12. Jazztival - CHECK
13. Make bones in Morelia (Kill Scorpion) - CHECK
14. Attend Mexican Wedding - CHECK

Thanks Scott. ;-)

Semana Santa

2006-04-27T22:00:00.000-07:00

Thousands of tourists come to Morelia every year for Semana Santa, the week leading up to Easter. This is the big summer vacation and the city was packed. It was funny not be the most lost person in the city. They really make a week out of this holiday with parades, silent candlelight processions, and four hour masses throughout the week.

I woke up one morning to find a religious parade reenacting the passion, complete with drums and horns, passing by my window. I snapped a few photos. Definitely something I never witnessed in San Francisco.

My Spanish Instructors

2006-04-25T23:15:00.000-07:00

Ok, I'm back. Parental visit was great. I'll post some pictures from their visit as soon as my Mom sends them to me. She has a nice camera and takes much better photos than I do.

In the meantime, here are some pictures of my favorite Spanish instructors. For all of you out there who have ever taken Spanish with a teacher from Spain, don't believe the hype, those Spaniards talk crazy. Mexican instructors, on the other hand, are mellow and clear. I found the Mexican accent significantly easier to understand while you are learning.

On the left, my instructor Carlos, who is like a general of Spanish grammar and not to be trifled with. He taught me the way it should be. On the right, Jose Luis, the head of the program. Nice guy. Loves high-fives.

And this is me with Luz, my cool teacher. After learning all the proper stuff from Carlos, she would sit me down and say "Ok listen, this is how people really talk."

The rules and the cool - that's all you need.

Complements or Thinly Veiled Threats?

2006-04-18T23:00:00.000-07:00

I don't want to call them threats, but I have received several strongly worded messages about the decreased frequency of new posts.

Short Answer - "Damn, cut me some slack! I think I'm doing a pretty good job of sharing my life with you but I've got to get out and live it if I am to have anything new to write about."

Long Answer-
There are several factors that affect my ability to post daily:

Access to a Computer - It's a very long story why, but I still don't have a computer here. Previously, I wrote at the computer lab everyday after school but since I finished my schooling I'm limited to Internet cafes and Marisol's house.
Time to Write - It takes longer than you might think, at least for me, and I've got things to do...like find a job and, you know, drink coffee.
Suitable Material - You would never know given some of the drivel on here but there is a very demanding editorial review board employed in the production of my blog*. And when I first got here everything was exciting and different but I've sunk into a rhythm of sorts and no longer have all this newness to write about. Don't get me wrong, I still have tons to share but it's more a steady stream of life rather than a torrent of foreignness.
Visitors - My parents arrive on Wednesday so I will be out and about this week rather than holed away in an Internet cafe desperately trying to maintain my dear friends whom I so carelessly abandoned.

* Sidenote: I still hate the word "blog." It sounds like a mushy form of justice dished out by the old Batman and Robin. "Splat! Blog!! Blam!"

The Problem with Free Stuff

2006-04-17T22:55:00.000-07:00

They say a picture is worth a thousand words...

Cruz Roja Mexicana (Mexican Red Cross)

2006-04-16T14:00:00.000-07:00

I love these posters for the Mexican Red Cross. I don't think our Red Cross has quite the same sense of humor.

Last Day of School

2006-04-13T15:51:00.000-07:00

Friday was my last day of Spanish classes. (Tear)

I'm not fluent yet but I've learned all the grammar there is to learn. At this point reading and talking are the best ways to build vocabulary and increase the fluidity with which I jump between grammar structures. I'm also working my way through an excellent and very comprehensive Spanish review book that I highly recommend to anyone looking to brush up on all aspects of the language.

Those in the know told me I would need three months to hold my own in a conversation and six to be fluent. I've got two and a half months under my belt and I understand almost everything and can hold my own in a conversation. I expect to be waxing poetic all over the place in three more months. Reading novels is still sufficiently frustrating to elicit a healthy supply of profane muttering but every day it gets a little easier.

A few feelings:

Nostalgia - I'm always sad when things I've enjoyed come to an end - finishing jobs, college, a meal at Delfina, and language classes come to mind.

Accomplishment - Wow, I took 20 hours of group lessons and 70 hours of private lessons and learned all the Spanish grammar there is to learn. That's pretty cool.

Trepidation - Uhhh, I'm still not fluent. WTF?

Excitement - I had my first interview for a job at an English school yesterday. With the nostalgia for the familiar comes the thrill of the new. I'm considering a number of possibilities for work and I'm very excited to discover what life has in store for me.

Mexican Wedding

2006-04-10T19:10:00.000-07:00

First Mexican wedding. Fun but not really that different from a typical wedding in the U.S. I was expecting mariachis, big hats, lots of mustaches, and a part of the ceremony where we all fire our pistols into the air. "Arriba, arriba...andale!"

But alas, no dangerous gun play this time. Instead we enjoyed a healthy bit of dancing, a pasta dinner, cute little kids in suits and dresses, a happy bride and groom, and a funny old guy from Canada who wore the ever fashionable short-sleeve dress shirt and danced in a fantastically stiff manner. Marisol baked the wedding cake. It was covered in white roses and looked incredible.

Marisol and me with two of her best high school

friends. The sister of the groom, Paula, is to my right.

Father of the groom with all the girls.

The Rim Chop

2006-04-05T11:11:00.000-07:00

This morning, after I took my shower, I was in my kitchen wearing flip-flops, rummaging around in the pile of plastic grocery bags under my sink. I was looking for a small bag to use for some old fruit when a large, grey, bug-monster darted from behind the pile into the middle of the kitchen.

"Ahhhhhhhh! Holy shit! A scorpion."

He crouched up against the wall, facing me. I could feel my heart beating wildly in my throat.

"Dammit. Shit! Is it the big ones or the little ones that kill you? In Cabo they said the little ones...right? But how little is little? Is this guy little? He looks pretty big to me...but not Clash of the Titans big. And are the big ones safe like kittens or only slightly less dangerous than deadly? Shit. Shit! Just remember he's more scared of you than you are of..."

He moved towards me.

"Wait, wait, wait. I thought he was scared of me!?"

He is between me and the one door out of the kitchen. I'm trapped. I know it's me or him so I grab the only thing handy, my trusty frying pan, and assume the gladiator stance.

"Bring it bug-monster."

Hearing my taunt he starts to climb the wall. (Seriously)
I guess stinging my foot isn't enough. This bastard wants to sting my face. All I can think of now is that damn Australian guy who wrestles with crocodiles and plays with spiders and scorpions. What an idiot.

I know the frying pan is the answer, but how exactly?

The squash with the bottom of the pan? No, no. Not enough force plus visibility issues. You won't know if he's dead under that big round bottom or just preparing his counter attack.
The smack with the side? Better visibility but the rounded shape requires deft placement to ensure a kill. A glancing blow will only cause him to dart off, frantically lashing out at his ineffective adversary.
Or the chop with the rim. Yesss. The deadly rim chop. I like it. Swift and sharp without requiring too much skill.

Still in my gladiator crouch, I inch toward him. He's bold but so far appears unaware of the advancing threat. When I'm with in striking distance I prepare myself, give it one more look, and swing like hell.

Wham! The claw-half of his body goes flying.
I leap back in terror. His top half is running recklessly around the kitchen floor. I cower in the corner hoping to avoid his insanity. The severed, deadly(?) stinger lies on the floor next to the scene of our confrontation.

He's still moving but with less vigor. Finally he stops thrashing about and I feel brave enough to leap over him to safety. But am I really safe? I feel horrible. I'm sweating, my skin is crawling, my heart is beating at twice it's normal pace, and I'm convinced that every shadow is moving towards me. I can't believe I ever said anything bad about my nice, cuddly little ant intruders. I go upstairs for shoes and when I return he is still in the same place so I sweep my fallen foe and his stinger into the dustpan.

Wait a minute, wait a minute...did he just move? No, no, it can't be. He was severed in half ten minutes ago, there's no way.

I swiftly take him outside and shake the dustpan into the gutter. The stinger falls, the body doesn't. What the!? I shake it vigorously now and this time the body falls. As soon as it hits the ground he's off running in circles again. Still not dead. This guy is one hell of a fighter. Had I gone with my first thought, the flip-flop stomp, it would be me writhing around in the gutter and him retreating inside for a cup of coffee.

~~Afterward~~

*Conversation with one of my teachers*
Teacher: "Don't worry about it. They're very common when it's hot and not that dangerous."
Me: "Oh really, so they aren't deadly?"
Teacher: "Oh no, they'll kill you."

*Reply from Marisol's parents*
Parents in unison: "You know they are always in pairs. I'd find that partner if I were you."

Jazztival

2006-04-04T18:33:00.000-07:00

Morelia has an International Jazz Festival. Who knew?

The festival is called "Jazztival" so I was expecting the worst - lots of Soprano Sax and Flute and a slew of horrible names. I can excuse a lot of cheesiness but Jazz has a lot to answer for. What kind of disturbed childhood causes you to create the "word" Saxual?

Yes, I've seen Dan Moretti live...
...in Rhode Island...(is that an excuse?)...
and no, I don't want to talk about it.

However, in this case, I was very pleasantly surprised. For only $6 we were treated to three hours of quality jazz in the outdoor courtyard of the 400 year old cultural center. In fact, the local hero, Juan Alzate, plays a pretty mean Tenor. On Saturday night we even saw the fireworks from the cathedral overhead during the concert. Cool.

And no cheesy names or flutes.

At the Zoo-hoo

2006-04-03T13:20:00.000-07:00

Turns out Morelia has a great zoo. I took a trip there with Amandine while our significant others were hard at work. I can't remember the last time I went to a zoo but it had definitely been long enough for me to forget how much fun it is.

Amandine with a an elephant.

I had no idea Ostriches were so huge.

But these monkeys were my favorite. They are amazingly humanlike
and the way they move around using their tail as a 5th hand is very cool.
The Lions were also fantastic but I couldn't get a good picture.

Oh, and before we left Amandine pointed out the heart of Mexico.

Mexican Ants: Irresponsible Drifters, Super Villains

2006-03-31T12:30:00.000-08:00

I know you aren't supposed to compare everything when you move to a new place, it annoys the locals and the insights are rarely interesting, but the state of Mexican ants can't be ignored.

Mexican ants are irresponsible drifters and maybe, just maybe, lethal super villains.

Now before you berate me with terms like NAFTA and globalization, let me explain. The ants I'm familiar with behave like good, obedient members of an organized colony. If there's a trail of ants in your house, you can be sure they've discovered food and are working hard collecting their bounty. Upon discovering these unwanted guests, one typically follows their trail to the point of entry and executes the dastardly deed upon the lot of them leaving a trail of little ant bodies after the smoke clears.

The ants in my apartment, on the other hand, defy all the ant logic I throw (shout) at them. They appear out of nowhere without a goal, destination, or discernible reason for being. There are no cookies on my ceiling. There is no watermelon in my dresser. And there is definitely no chicken on my bookshelf. And yet this is where I find them. I try to follow their trail to some source but I can't. I finally realized it isn't a path at all, but a circle. These ants are loitering! Just passing the time, hanging out, walking from one end of my bookshelf to the other. They are like the local hoodlums looking for trouble as they cruise the strip. And the worst part - they don't even care. They are totally irresponsible ants, drifting about from scenic wall to luxurious corner, blissfully ignoring the culinary needs of their hard working brethren.

I have no patience for this intrusion so I turn the Raid can on my wayward pets. But after the smoke clears I never find that trail of little black dots. Their little bodies just disappear. Poof - gone. And this little fact is what really worries me. What if they aren't dying at all, but instead limping off to recover in some dark, seedy ant hospital. With each shot of Raid becoming stronger and more radioactive. On top of this already perilous situation, my apartment is teeming with toxic fumes from my recent exploits with wood stain and a suspicious "paint thinner" that melts all things plastic.

Yes, maybe I'm a little paranoid, but with all the ingredients for superhero mayhem (radiation, creepy creatures, unsuspecting victim), it's easy to imagine being dragged off to my demise by some enormous, surly, super-ant. On the positive side, perhaps I will emerge from the encounter with super-ant powers of my own. An Ant-Boy of sorts. I can think of worse.

Research Notes

Antus Normulus
Likes: Working hard, carrying food scraps, long lines, appearing overnight en masse
Dislikes: Soap, water, Raid
Size: Small

Antus Mexicus
Likes: Appearing out of nowhere, loitering in small groups, my right stereo speaker.
Dislikes: Soap, water, Raid
Size: Small (but growing)

Antus Radioactivus
Likes: Committing evil, causing chaos
Dislikes: Kryptonite, capes
Size: Terrifying

Weekend Getaway

2006-03-29T12:36:00.000-08:00

Another great trip with Javier, Amandine and Marisol. This time to Javier's cabin at Quercus.

Javier's family owns a plot of land close to the town and lake of Patzcuaro. They divided the land into smaller plots for sale to individuals. By sharing the cost of utilities and plumbing amongst everyone in the community, called Quercus, they can offer people a place to build a country home at a fraction of the cost of an equivalent property elsewhere. Brilliant and beautiful. I wish I had taken more pictures of the actual countryside because it's incredibly lush and relaxing.

Some crazy drink at Javier's
Family's restaurant on the way to Quercus

Javier and Amandine in the cabin at Quercus

On the way home we stopped off at the most tranquil spot
I've been to in Mexico, the lake Zirahuen. It was at a restaurant on
the other side of the lake where I first contemplated living in Mexico.

How Cute is My Niece?

2006-03-27T12:16:00.000-08:00

This has nothing to do with Mexico, but seriously, how cute is my niece? It's pretty ridiculous.

That's not a real goose.

Going for a walk in Palo Alto.

"Yes, yes...you can check
your email as soon as I'm done."

Cuanajo, Tzin-tzun-tzan, y Quiroga: Part 2

2006-03-25T14:47:00.000-08:00

When we last saw our adventurers, they were in the middle of an ancient, church that was rumbling and shaking something wicked...

Luckily, just as things looked ready to turn nasty our sage explorers stepped back outside into the safety of the courtyard. It is difficult to report with any certainty what was said amidst the evolving ruckus but some sources report hearing the following words uttered in a strange, foreign tongue, "Uhh, who wants to check out those crazy old trees we saw on the way in? This Church is in a bad way."

Amandine enjoying the safety of a
crazy, haggard, old tree in the church courtyard.

Happy to be safe and wearing green.

Marisol and her guerros.

Marisol helping us buy the best carnitas and fresh tortillas at a little street market in Quiroga, a town famous for carnitas. We were all ravenous after the close call in that spooky old church.

The park where we gorged on carnitas tacos.

And yes, we got lost on the way home.

Cuanajo, Tzin-tzun-tzan, y Quiroga: Part 1

2006-03-22T19:35:00.000-08:00

Took a great little trip with Javier, Amandine, and Marisol. First stop was Cuanajo where they sell cheap, wood furniture. I purchased a little coffee table which I've been sanding this week to prepare it for some nice, dark stain ala Home Depot. Pictures to come once I've got at least one room pulled together.

Javier's bitchin shades and 'stache.

My 3 best (and only) amigos, helping me look for furniture in Cuanajo

The high desert scenery en route to Tzin-tzun-tzan and Quiroga.

After Cuanajo we headed over to Tzin-tzun-tzan for a little look around. Tzin-tzun-tzan is famous for an old Church and little hats. Well, it's not famous for little hats yet...but fashionistas take note - these little babies are going to be hott! (See following photo with profesional models wearing said little hats)

Gueritos con sombreritos en Tzin-tzun-tzan

Super duper old church in Tzin-tzun-tzan

BUT...just as we set foot inside the ancient church walls, the ground began to shake and everything went fuzzy....

Oh no!? What happened to our intrepid travelers? Were they crushed in a pile of rubble and aviator shades? Did the earth swallow them whole like tasty green tic-tacs? Or did they complete their trials and emerge victorious in Quiroga only to gorge themselves on delicious carnitas tacos?

fIND oUT iN tHE nEXT pROBADITA!!

The Good Life: Revisited

2006-03-19T14:35:00.000-08:00

First Fiestacita

2006-03-17T11:21:00.000-08:00

First little party in my apartment.

My three favorite people drinking wine on my couch right
after I moved into my apartment a few weeks ago.

Mercado San Juan

2006-03-15T12:00:00.000-08:00

The Mercado San Juan, located three blocks from my apartment, delivers a shopping experience quite different from your local Safeway. Though similar to a farmer's market, the mercado's hundreds of enthusiastic and vocal vendors create an interactive adventure wholly unique to Mexico. Heeding the requests of these marketeers results in a tour of fresh Avocados, Chile, handmade Tortillas, Papaya, Mango, Cactus, and recently alive and now dead and de-feathered chickens.

And the prices! Not even the biggest and best supermarkets can compete. Here in Morelia the best 'Super' is, dare I say it, Walmart. Sad but true. The reality is that people (including myself) buy fresh food at the mercado and everything else at Walmart.

Below are a few photos from my first, chaperoned trip to the mercado. I've since completed solo journeys but it is still a crazy experience. Kilos, pesos, Spanish, 20 vendors selling the same stuff - what's a guy to do?

An aisle of fruit vendors.

Marisol picking out the best Mandarin Oranges.
(I'm still completely useless at picking out the best fruits and vegetables.)

Me and my reusable, old lady, shopping bag.
With a hundred little stores each giving you a tiny bag it is the only way...really.

I Must Be Crazy

2006-03-14T11:32:00.000-08:00

Odd dream last night.

I'm at a party with a bunch of people from my high school who were not my friends. We are all wearing A's uniforms. Mine is, of course, the best - all white with the green pin stripes and the hat and everything. I'm sitting on the couch with other non-friends when someone asks me how much Spanish I'm really learning down there. I explained to them, in Spanish, that it would be better if I answered that question in Spanish.

All of a sudden we are sitting around on the playground equipment at a children's park talking and I can't help but notice the equipment is covered in pasta sauce.

And then I wake up smiling and happy. I guess because I was speaking Spanish in a dream(?)....or I'm crazy. Time will tell.

-n

Mexican Politics in Action

2006-03-13T11:55:00.000-08:00

The other day I was walking in the Centro when I came upon this big to-do. Mexico's next presidential election is on July 2 and the most popular candidate with the laborers, Lopez Obrador, was visiting Morelia. His visit brought countless busses packed with people coming to show their support. I didn't stay long but everything appeared very organized and orderly.

Mexico has three political parties, PAN, PRI, and PRD though it is interesting to note that Vicente Fox, the current president, was the first non-PRI president in 71 years.

Supports walking past the main cathedral

The stage where the politicos were exciting the crowd

Another shot of supporters in front of the cathedral

There were lots of mini-parades as people marched with signs towards the festivities

A cool red bug equiped with political ideal spouting speakers

Now Showing in your Email Inbox

2006-03-10T12:34:00.000-08:00

Now you can subscribe to my site via email and receive a new email message when there are new posts to view. Simply type your email into the little white box below.

There is another little box like this in the right column of my site.

For those of you who don't read other blogs and don't use an RSS reader, this is probably the easiest way to find out about new posts.

-n

La Vista

2006-03-10T11:30:00.000-08:00

The view from my 2nd story bedroom window. I believe the rooster is somewhere off to the left but like the garbage man, I've never actually seen him.

The building across the street is in ruins and has been abandoned but this is actually less common than you might think. As you can see in the second photo, the rest of the houses on the block are in good shape. I've noticed five cats who enjoy passing their days there lazing around. I feel bonded to them by our common pursuits of food and leisure.

The view when leaning out of my bedroom window.
That's the end of my street, Calle 20 de Noviembre.

Phantom Truck

2006-03-08T09:29:00.000-08:00

I knew things would be different. But it's never the things you expect. Take garbage for example.

My last apartment in San Francisco had the best and most futuristic system for garbage I have yet encountered. Simply walk 5 steps down the hall and drop the offending bag into the garbage shoot. Down the hatch and whooosh, it is whisked away to a happy place where little gnomes magically take care of everything. Perfection. Even after three years, each whoosh and satisfying thud gave me a slight rush.

Here in Mexico things work a little differently.

First of all, there is no shoot but that was to be expected. No big deal. Instead of the shoot and gnomes, Mexico has a truck with a little bell. Every morning at an unspecified and highly irregular time, this truck drives around the neighborhood ringing the bell to alert attentive garbage disposers of its presence. The system is simple, when you hear the bell and see the truck, bring out your garbage and pay them a small tip ($0.25 per bag) for the service. Oh they love to ring that bell. Ring a ling a ling.

It's 7am, I'm still asleep but from the corner of my mind I hear a sound to faint to be my alarm clock....Ring, a ling a ling a ling a ling. "Oh god, is the truck here? Is it close?" The bell is louder now. I run to open the window, sticking my head out to see if I can make out the phantom truck in the distance but it's nowhere to be seen. Ring a ling a ling. "Yeah, yeah. I hear your damn bell. Where the heck are you?" Ring a lin a li..... and it's gone. No bell, no truck. I've heard the bell many times but I have never seen that truck.

The old lady who runs the corner store and spends her days asleep behind the counter told me the truck comes when it wants to come. Not helpful. When pressed she said usually around 8am. But at 9am, still no truck and I have to leave for school. When I return, I turn the corner full of anticipation. Did they pick it up? Things look good, all the garbage is gone, but wait, what's that? They left mine sitting there? Of course they did. No tip, no pickup.

When I get desperate I leave money with this same old lady and put my garbage in front of her store. This works but I feel bad and I doubt she appreciates me dumping my garbage duties on her. But so it goes. Maybe they come by on Saturdays.

Asì es.

-n

Pretty Things Near My Apartment

2006-03-07T11:21:00.000-08:00

Country of Contradictions

2006-03-06T11:51:00.000-08:00

They keep telling me Mexico is a country of contradictions. I'm starting to believe.

I Made Salsa

2006-03-06T11:46:00.000-08:00

I made my first real salsa last week and it was actually really easy. Oh, and delcious if I do say so myself.

So proud of myself here.
Marisol pretended to be impressed which was very sweet of her.

School Days

2006-03-04T10:32:00.000-08:00

I spend my mornings at the Instituto Baden-Powell learning Spanish.

My classes are one-on-one for three hours every day from 9-12. The first hour is grammar, the second hour is practice and the third hour is for everything else including the use of prepositions, indirect object pronouns, and the like.

The quality of the instruction here is excellent. The teachers are better than any I had in college or in San Francisco. Pretty incredible considering I found the school on Google.

The view of the Morelia skyline from one of the school's many terraces.

The Panaderia (Bakery) around the corner where we buy tasty bread and doughnut snacks.

A few of my American friends and me enjoying our tasty bread and doughnut snacks on one of the terraces. These guys are priests from Sacramento learning to speak and give Mass in Spanish.

Everyday I have my Practica class outside on this terrace. Only a tiny bit different from the learning environment in Rhode Island.

My grammar classroom. Perfect for 1 student and a teacher.

Favorite New Snack

2006-03-03T06:55:00.000-08:00

Non-Fat Plain Yogurt
Fresh Blackberries
A dab of Fresh Honey

Delicious. You can switch up the berries or leave out the honey but the combo is divine.

Note: If you are planning on visiting a 3rd world country like Mexico (hint, hint), eating yogurt daily for four weeks before your trip will help prepare your stomach for the trip. It adds something, I'm not sure what, to your stomach that helps you digest new foods that might otherwise make you sick.

-n

El Gallo

2006-02-28T10:21:00.000-08:00

Morelia has more people than San Francisco and yet every morning I'm woken up by the rooster that lives somewhere on my block.

Rooster Alarm Clock

Pros: Save money on alarm clock.
Cons: Wakeup time not negotiable. No snooze button. Service may be interrupted by culinary needs of owner.

Please leave a message after the...

2006-02-25T20:02:00.000-08:00

**Beep**

I just added this little green button to my site that allows you to leave me a voice message. You don't have to download any software or sign up for any service, just click the button, and talk into your microphone (most laptops and webcams have them built in). It will automatically send your message to me and I think I can reply. Pretty cool, no? Well, I guess we will see.

You can find this little green box of Internet magic on the right side of my site, just below the picture of that dork in the sombrero. The button looks like this...

So make haste and send me a message already!!

Morelia

2006-02-25T19:30:00.000-08:00

Morelia is the incredibly beautiful capital of the state of Michoacan. Founded by the Spanish about 500 years ago, Morelia retains much of the charm and striking buildings often found in the quaint old towns of Europe.

The cathedral is the center of the city. My school and apartment are both less than a 10 minute walk away.

The cathedral and all the historic buildings are built from a pink stone called "Cantera Rosa" which literally means Pink Quarry...or something like that. The cool thing is that as the sun sets, these buildings appear to glow. I will try and take a picture of this for you to see. Anyway, if you are there at the right time it looks amazing.

One of the parks that on the side of the cathedral.
A typical Morelia street in the morning. You can just see the edge of the park from the previous picture on the right side of this photo.

That is a taste for now. I will post more pictures soon but today is Saturday and there are laws here about doing too much of anything on the weekend.

-n

Salsa!

2006-02-23T07:45:00.000-08:00

I had my first salsa dancing class on Tuesday and my next one is tonight. My Spanish language school offers free classes for students. Marisol is, of course, the star of the class. I, on the other hand, haven't lost my American stiffness yet. My inability to move my hips side to side continues to be a source of much frustration. Luckily this is a very common problem for the other gringo students in the class. I actually feel pretty good because Marisol told me I improved from a 0 to a 2.5 after just one class. I didn't ask what scale that was on but I'm pretending it's out of 10. ;-)

Hola Mis Amigos

2006-02-19T14:11:00.000-08:00

Hello everyone. As you know, I'm now living in Mexico in the city of Morelia. I will share photos of my life here in Mexico with you on this page. This site is organized in chronological order so the oldest posts are at the very bottom. I recommend starting there.

Oh, and all the pictures can be enlarged if you click on them.

More pictures coming soon - stay tuned.

-n

The Good Life

2006-02-16T21:27:00.001-08:00

A Kiss on the Beach

2006-02-16T21:27:00.000-08:00

On The Boat to La Isla Ixtapa

2006-02-16T21:23:00.000-08:00

That is the north end of Ixtapa behind the driver. Our hotel was just out of the picture to the right. The weather is perfect in Ixtapa in February - hot but not humid with perfectly warm, comfortable nights.

More Ixtapa Wildlife

2006-02-12T11:40:00.000-08:00

My, What Big Teeth You Have

2006-02-12T11:39:00.000-08:00

On Sunday we went to la Isla Ixtapa, a little island just 5 minutes by boat from the local beach. On the way we stopped on a bridge that was over this mini-nature preserve containing 6 big old crocs. I had never seen one up close and they really look like something from the age of the dinasours, which I guess they are. Anyway, I was very happy they were down there and we were up on our "safe" little bridge.

Off to the beach

2006-02-12T11:00:00.000-08:00

Holy crap there's a lot of sun here

2006-02-12T10:16:00.000-08:00

The view from our Room in Ixtapa

2006-02-12T10:15:00.000-08:00

Ahh...Ixtapa

2006-02-12T10:14:00.000-08:00

Endless

2006-02-12T08:34:00.000-08:00

Marisol was there waiting for me when I arrived and we hoped on the bus with out any problems. Next stop Morelia for one night and then off to Ixtapa.

The World Trade Center in D.F.

2006-02-12T08:15:00.000-08:00

Mexico City!!

2006-02-12T08:01:00.000-08:00

My first stop is Mexico City, the craziest city I've ever visited. Despite what you've heard, D.F. as it's known here, is quite beautiful if you know where to go. There are quiet, tree lined streets, great cafes, and wonderful restaurants but it really helps to have a local show you around. Today my time in D.F. is very short, just long enough to meet Marisol, eat a quick bite and jump on a bus for Morelia, 4 hours to the west.

Last Days in SF

2006-02-10T11:46:00.000-08:00

My last days in San Francisco. My best work pals celebrating my birthday and departure at Place Pigalle in Hayes Valley.

Happy In Napa

2006-02-10T11:30:00.000-08:00

Marisol came to visit me in October and we spent a great weekend up in Napa with Jess. I like this picture.

Dancing

2006-02-10T11:29:00.000-08:00

Our last night together during my vacation. Silly dancing is all I know.

In Morelia the First Time

2006-02-10T11:28:00.000-08:00

My very first day and meal in Morelia during my vacation back in August.

What the??

2006-02-10T11:26:00.000-08:00

Welcome to my page where you will find pictures and perhaps thoughts on my life here in Morelia. If you like these blog thingys then you may find it easier to keep track of them using a feed reader such as www.bloglines. com or your my.yahoo page. A feed reader will tell you when there is a new post so you only have to visit this webpage when there is something new to see. Of course, if you enjoy viewing the same pictures over and over again, then by all means, feel free.

The feed for this website is: http://feeds.feedburner.com/ProbaditasDeMorelia

-n