The imminent end

So I leave Mexico on Saturday.

I want to go home and see my friends and family, but I don't want to leave. This place, even with all it's flaws, is so wonderful and fucking awesome and I feel at home here. It feels like so long ago that I arrived, that the five of us went on our trip to Monte Alban and took the most awkward photo on the face of the planet (above), not touching each other or anything, and then the next group photo (a whole forty-five minutes later) with our arms round each other, looking as friendly as can be. There are five copies on that super-awkward photo, one on each of our cameras.

Going on trips to foreign countries with a large group, I've done before. And you feel really close, but they only last 10 days, or 20 days, and then you send messages on Facebook occasionally but essentially forget about them. But you realize how superficial that is when you have a three-month long experience to compare it to. I think it's impossible to share a trip like this one with four other girls and not actually remain friends.

It's strange to think about the life I'll be going back to; how quickly it will seem normal again. How even if I wanted to recapture this trip, I never could, not even by coming back here.

What happens in Mexico stays in Mexico.

Last night she said, "Baby, I feel so down."

Getting free Mezcal is natch, y'all.

And yelling the words to "Last Night" in between songs to get the band to play the Strokes? Drunken joy.

And pictures of me smiling with a lime rind for teeth? Well, that's just class with a capital K.

Mexican Thanksgiving

They don't have Thanksgiving here. Obviously. But we did Thanksgiving anyway. Or at least, we tried.

I never did find cranberries (fresh or frozen) for my cranberry sauce, so I bought to-go mashed potatoes from Chedraui, which were actually delicious.

Ashley couldn't find regular cornmeal, so she had to buy blue corn tortilla flour. It was too fine and the consistency of the cornbread for the stuff was off. By the time we ate, she was a bit tipsy and kept calling her stuffing "the blue shit" and apologising for ruining Thanksgiving with it. And there ain't nothing funnier than a pissed Southern girl doing the Stanky Leg and going on about her blue stuffing.

But the turkey she made was delish, and that's the most important part.

Mentira no, tíralo, pásalo písalo

I never listened to reggaeton back in the states. Not that I have any particular prejudice against it; no, I got over feeling superior to any type of music (except Christmas music) a long time ago. But I just didn't listen to it, or pay it any attention.

But, y'all, I love reggaeton now. And also possibly gangsta' rap? (That one is all Catherine's fault.)





Is it sad that this is probably the song I would consider most definitive of my experience in Mexico? Because they play it freakin' everywhere.





Is this song technically reggaeton? I'm not sure. But it's really amazing.



Okay, this is just Spanish pop music. But I'm addicted.

When time stands still

Something Ashley said over the weekend, when discussing how unusual beach weather is for us in November: "It feels like time is standing still here. Like I'll get back to Tennessee and it'll be August 23."

It's strange how true that is. My whole time here has felt like a huge vacation, even with the few days I had actual coursework. Maybe it's because half the courses won't actually count for anything, or because the ones that do are really easy. But everything is so carefree and easygoing, and I don't feel like I'm doing any work.

And it's not just the relaxing state of mind here. Everything is so different, yet I've settled into my routine and this city like anything else. It doesn't feel foreign, but the fact that I know it is only adds to its unreality. This is not my real life; therefore, my real life must be on pause. I will go back, as I have before with every other vacation, and not much will have happened in my absence.

Of course, my second longest vacation was only three weeks. When I got back, it was still summer, and the things that had happened didn't seem very important. It was still summer, the sun would still set late, my friends and I would still stay out until 3 a.m. every night. Life picked up pretty much where it had let off.

Now, when I go back, it will be winter (though that might not mean much in LA) and all my friends will still be in school. They will have spent an entire semester without me, and maybe they missed my presence, but more than likely they adjusted long ago and forgot to even notice.

I think the reason time seems to be standing still, even more so than the unchanging (okay, barely changing) weather and surreality of it all, is the fact that we, as humans, are inherently selfish and unable to comprehend most things bigger than ourselves. And our worlds, my world, revolve around us. What happens when we can't see it, aren't there it experience it, well, it ceases to exist. We know that's not really true, but it's how we I perceive things anyway. My normal life and everything it entails are not here, therefore I can't imagine how the things in my normal life are getting on without me.

So that world is standing still.

And it'll be waiting for me when I get back, right?

Eating popcorn on a piano

Jillian, Melissa, and I were walking to school this morning when Jillian suddenly exclaimed, "Guess what I did last night!"

I thought it might be something saucy, as the other night we went lingerie shopping (at the Mexican equivalent of TJ Maxx's, no less) and were talking very loudly about her boyfriend and which teddy would make her boobs look bigger, etc., and we really hope no one in that store spoke English. So I thought it might be something like that.

No, it wasn't.

"I stayed up 'till 1 a.m. watching 'Hamster on a Piano'," she says.

I just don't even know what to say.

Like high school

I can't help but feel just a little bit giddy.

This is from the sixteen-year-old, by the way. Who is now seventeen. Yeeeeeep.

No hay honor más grande que ser un charolastra

Huatulco is much, much better than Puerto Escondido. There are a lot more beaches, especially tiny bays that are only accessible by boat and are therefore much less crowded. We went on a boat ride (I'm on a boat!), went snorkeling, held puffer fish, ate a fish that Ashley caught for lunch, went to a ridiculously lame club that charged a ridiculous cover of 100 pesos and was so not worth it, and flirted with a cute Northern Englishman (okay, that last one was just me).


And look! It's the beach from Y Tu Mamá También! Our visit to which actually led to an argument about whether or not one of the characters fucked the other character's mom, because Justine was adamant that this is what happened, because that's the title of the movie. But that was just a joke he made. I think. If anyone knows the answer, please do tell. This is a matter of some importance that needs to be resolved, for the good of mankind!

We had the day off school today for 20 de noviembre, which is Friday. (I know, it makes perfect sense. It's just, like, logic.) So I've sat around all day, not really doing anything, and now I must get back to the real world and finish the two short stories I've been putting off all weekend.

Something not related to how sick I am

I went to the doctor yesterday; it turns out I have an intestinal infection. Yay! That's always super fun. (It's never super fun.) So the past four days have been wholly uninteresting, with me mostly sitting in my room, clutching first my head (it was really bad the first two days), then my stomach, moaning as the evil bacteria and my immune system had a battle to the death. Which is still going on by the way, but I think the bacteria are losing too many men and can hardly call for re-enforcements from inside my intestines, so they are attacking less frequently, relying on the element of surprise. But my immune system is like, WHAT. WE HAVE ANTI-BIOTICS NOW. SUCK ON THAT. It's like unleashing the A-bomb. (No, it's not.)

Why am I humanising my illness? I'm so weird.

Anyway. Some stuff about last week that is actually interesting and doesn't involve my digestive tract:

1) The Optometry Clinic!

Isn't this little old lady adorable? I swear, she kept changing outfits and coming in every 15 minutes. (She obviously did not do this.) But a lot of the old people tend to look alike. Well, there are types. And it's like, DUDE, YOU WERE HERE YESTERDAY. But they weren't.

And this cutie!


Aw!

It was a really great experience. Glasses don't really seem like such an expensive deal, but for most people here, it's either get glasses or eat. Guess which one usually wins out.


2) Chiapas!

As I said before, Chiapas was great, even if there were a lot of problems with our pants. First, on Friday, they got really wet in the rain and our hotel was being a bitch about letting us dry them, because we hadn't washed them first? Whatever. We ended up waiting for two hours and paying 10 pesos to put them in the dryer for ten minutes. But then they were dry and toasty, so that was nice.

Then, on Saturday, we went horseback riding, which was awful because a) cheap saddles are uncomfortable and bruise your inner thighs and b) my horse was retarded and kept falling into pitholes and my pants were COVERED in dirt. But other than the Epic Pants Fiasco, we had a lot of fun.

Horsey!

A typical street in San Cristobal de las Casas. It's a very cute little town, even though the centro is super European-looking. Well, Mediterranean-looking.

We hiked all the way up to that church.

And all the way up these stairs. At the top of which there was another church. Naturally.

Jill stepped on a candle in the church in San Juan Chamula (pictured), a tiny town about half an hour out of San Cristobal, where they have no pews but instead candles and pine needles everywhere whilst they perform 'exorcisms' with Pepsi from the 80s (they believe you can expel bad spirits in burps). You're not allowed to take pictures inside the church. They have a tendency to smash cameras.


And then there was the jungle in el Cañón de Sumidero!

An actual crocodile, in the wild!




Lions and tigers and bears Jaguars and toucans and parrots, oh my!

And now I'm off to Huatulco for the weekend. I know, brilliant idea to go to the beach when I'm sick. Whatever. Some relaxation (in the shade, as the doctor told me to avoid the sun) will be nice.

I hope I don't have swine flu

Chiapas was great, and I would've done a nice, long post about it much, sooner, but I've been (and still am) very sick. I have a tension headache that is in its third day, so I pretty much want to kill myself. Seriously, I walk up and down the stairs so slowly that my family mocks me. I AM PITIFUL.

Nearsighted

I spent the past three days translating for a free optometry clinic in Zimatlán. And I would post all about it, but I have to leave for Chiapas in two minutes.

Although it turns out I am very slightly nearsighted.

Catch y'all on the flip side.

Deep-fried fun

Jill and I went to the fair outside the Panteón General last night. I just have to say that Mexican carnivals are 394395734857 times better than American ones, because they let you stay on the rides much longer and they jump on to the moving platform to shake the car and spin you round.

It would be an OSHA nightmare. But it's awesome.

Plus if you want a milkshake sugar milk-water to go, they put it in a plastic bag which I find hee-larious.

No one on the corner has swagger like us

This weekend has been pretty freakin' amazing, and I promise I will post pictures soon someday. But for now I have just a few tidbits.


Last night, at one point, we (Catherine, her friend Tara, and I) were in a bar in the seediest part of Oaxaca. We were going to leave soon, but I was already quite fed up with the place. This guy comes up to me with a bottle of something neon green and asks if I want a shot.

"No thanks," I say.

"Come on, it's only water."

"No mames,*" I said, because, Fucking seriously?

"Okay," he says, "it's water with lime."

"No mames," I repeat, and then turn away.

Half an hour later, we finally left that bar to meet up with Jill, Carlos, and Dulce. We walked in to the band playing "Last Night" and it made me so happy, I completely forgot to care about that stupid bar. And we all sang along, really loudly and obnoxiously, because that's what the Strokes do to us white girls.


Then after that bar, around 3 a.m., on my way home with Carlos, Jill, and Dulce, Jill and I started singing "Paper Planes" in our attempts to be gangsta'. Dulce and Carlos found this very funny, even though I don't think they understand the lyrics (they don't speak English). But I'm sure thug stares translated perfectly.


*Don't bullshit

I ain't your guera

Last night I was at the Panteón General, waiting for my host sister, when some random, middle-aged guy saw me, yelled, "Guera!", tried to put his arm around me, and indicated to someone in his party to take a photo.

I was like, Um, no, I am not a display in a museum.

Bitch, I ain't your white girl.