June 7th, 2009
Today was mostly spent completing my homework assignments for tomorrow. I have wanted to reorganize my suitcase since my arrival and at the end of the day feel that it is finally back in some semblance of order. My other task for the day was hand washing a few items, mostly tank tops that I have worn throughout the week and a few delicates. I was shocked to discover that they were dry in only an hour and feel quite productive at the end of an otherwise boring afternoon. My time at the beach yesterday has left me with a peeling forehead and several heat rashes, which are diminishing quickly with my careful application of Cortaid.
Dinner delivered another wonderful panucho to the table, and to my surprise and excitement, a cup of delicious vanilla ice cream. It still feels quite strange to be staying in someone’s home, but Xavier’s constant jokes and conversations in English go a long way to making me feel more comfortable. After one week I finally feel enough at ease to really put my Spanish language skills, no matter how insignificant, to greater use. Blanca was quite impressed at my vocabulary, which I explained to her my difficulty in forming my large repertoire of words into grammatically correct sentences. I was trying to tell her a little bit about my time spent at sea, which went much better than I expected in my clipped Spanish phrases. I find listening to my host family, her children, and even her grandchildren a great help. After dinner Blanca and Xavier asked me if I would like to go to the beach next Sunday with the entire family, which I am looking forward to as opposed to taking the multiple buses to Progreso. It will be fun to watch them interact with their grandchildren and I am sure that it will remind me of my childhood at the beach with my own family.
By now my readers have assuredly read the previous post and are familiar with the events of this evening. Gideon, as I have come to call my scrawny visitor emerged quickly from above the florescent bulb shortly after I turned out the lights. I do not like how their creepy little bottles wobble back and forth as they scamper across the wall, nor do I like their disgusting yellow green coloring that becomes almost peach in certain lightings. At first Gideon made his way toward the closet at the opposite end of the room, but my quick thinking halted this merry scuttling across the peach colored wall as I turned back on the light. I would like to offer my actions of this night to some sort of scientific research. Geckos are smart little buggers. Light clearly equals bugs, which clearly equals food. They apparently can do the math. With this theory proved I turned off the overhead florescent and turned on the lamp next to not only the bed, but also the door. It took some time and alternating between light sources, but eventually, after already opening the heavy wooden door, I pushed open the screen and he disappeared. Of course time seems to fly when dealing with these night critters and so it was well after midnight before I lay restless looking around my, what I assumed to be, secure abode.
June 8th, 2009
Obviously my 6:30 wake-up call arrived too soon and I begrudgingly crawled out of bed to get ready for class. After last night if anyone has a gecko that needs to be trained I would be more than glad to help for a small fee, though potty training is additional. This morning breakfast was a delicious plate of cheesy eggs with pieces of bacon and onion. I’m not sure if my face is easy to read or if Blanca is beginning to guess by the amount of fruit left which ones are my favorites and which ones are not so much. She has taken to placing an apple and a banana at my place setting, which I always eat the banana at breakfast, and take the apple for a snack during class.
Class passed rather quickly, but I still feel as if my instructor constantly chooses me to go first, in which case you have no model to base your answer on. Today I was asked to create a question in the future tense, which everyone tried to correct after the fact, only to discover that indeed I was correct after all. My Spanish is horrible and yet I knew that my question was in the appropriate tense. I even made it a point to say, “Isn’t that exactly what I said,” when Ismael wrote it on the board for everyone to see. After our break I was again asked to read my one page essay first on our visit to Yóol Iik’. I even had to sit in the front of the classroom facing my peers and read the essay aloud. When I reached the portion about Chris forgetting the name of his wife, everyone burst out in laughter. Keep in mind my entire essay is written in Maya. Ismael gave me a “Jach ma’alob,” meaning “very good,” and mine was the only essay not to get corrected on the dry erase board. I’m patting myself on the back right now.
The afternoon passed a bit slowly with me lounging lazily in the hammock. After a traditional Mexican lunch accompanied by two cold Hershey kisses, I retired to my room where clean sheets awaited me on the bed along with a fresh towel. It was so cute at lunch how Blanca dug around in the fridge looking for the box of Hershey’s as if she had hidden it away from everyone. It feels like Ismael gives us quite a bit of homework and I wish that it did not take so long to do.
Dinner was a delicious hot dog, no chance of forgetting American food altogether, followed by, of all things a cinnamon bun and the freshest one I have ever tasted. I have decied that either my blog gets published in Spanish and they know how much I enjoy my sweets, or they are concerned that I will melt away into nothingness. My shower once again shut off before I was complete, but I think that I am finally beginning to get the timing right so that at least the shampoo is rinsed out of my hair. Tomorrow we have a lecture at four o’clock so I am not sure if I will return to Blanca’s or wait it out in the city.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Proceed at Your Own Risk...Just Kidding
First, try not to analyze if you can see my rib cage in the last photo on the right side of my body, the left side when you are looking at the picture. I promise that the only thing not fitting are my shorts. Second, try to ignore any mistakes in the last entry since it was written in a frazzled state as Gideon, my not so welcome friend scurried around the ceiling. I have finally coaxed him out the door with some fancy lampwork to attract him to the light and warmth and pray that he is finding happier feeding grounds elsewhere. Lastly, I forgot to mention the lovely heat rashes that have since appeared on my hands, shoulder, arm pits, and wrists, which I have treated with my anti-itch creams and am satisfied with the results. Secondly a mere twenty minutes in the sun at Progreso has bought me a wonderfully peeling forehead and the mosquito bite count has halted, thankfully, at twenty. I seem to have found a somewhat workable solution, combining two types of repellant for prevention, and six types of anti-histamine creams for treatment including Aveeno, Cortaid, Benadryl, StingEze and a yellow tube with a green lid, all of which would work significantly better if Cherylie were here to threaten stabbing a fork through my hand if I touched them one more time. Honestly though, this first batch of bites will be gone in a few days so something is actually working. Now that I am feeling in a much better mood, and Gideon has tucked me in for the night...I can hopefully sleep some of the next six hours.
Progreso
June 6th, 2009
I made another attempt this morning to take a shower and found once again that the water was still unavailable. I feel absolutely disgusting, an oily blob with an invisible sheath of sticky bug repellant. I made do with what amenities were available, thankful that my spray bottle was full of water to aid in assembling my curls into some order as opposed to the smashed bed head curls a la humidity, which basically translates as “AHHH!” each and every morning. My breakfast was served at a quarter to ten, delicious little rolls called pancito with strawberry preserves and slices of pineapple. Connie and Mark arrived and sat with my host family as I finished my breakfast and off we went to the bus station already feeling the heat of the day.
We began our trip by walking several blocks to catch the San Lucas bus into the city center, which we take to class each morning. Upon arrival in the city we trudged along for what seemed like forever in the already blazing sun to the bus terminal where we boarded the, hallelujah, air conditioned bus to Progreso. It was a forty minute ride north, where upon arrival we had to walk another four or so blocks to the beach. At this point I already felt quite scorched and lathered on the sunscreen. We choose a table at Eladio’s on the beach where I enjoyed a cold drink and panuchos, one of my favorite Yucatecan dishes of shredded pork or chicken atop crispy tortillas with avocado, tomato, and red onions. It took quite some time to navigate the currency since we are all trying to break our larger bills for smaller ones before Santa Elena.
The beach was speckled with thousands of tiny shells, focused predominately along the edge of the blue water, which was a pretty shade of turquoise, though definitely on the cloudier side. It was even more surprising to step into the calm surf, its warmth quite a shock and preferable to colder temperatures since it still felt refreshing in the fiery of the sun. We positioned our bags under a lone palm tree for some shade, and I knew after a short time in the sun that I was getting pretty burnt. As the shade moved with the movement of the sun, I shifted my towel around the perimeter of the palm to keep my nose and forehead shaded for the remainder of the afternoon. It was a wonderful feeling to be at the beach, and surprising to find it so deserted on a Saturday since many families in Merida make the trip to Progreso each weekend. Almost as soon as we arrived the ocean breeze was a welcome change from the stuffy quarters of the city blocks and I felt for the first time this week that breathing came naturally once again.
When I finally returned to my host house I had barely walked into my room before I grabbed my shampoo and body wash and dashed off to the shower, which at last was delivering a chilly flow of water. It felt so good on my burnt skin and sandy body. Afterwards I was extremely thankful for packing aloe and quickly fell into a deep sleep as any day at the beach is bound to provide.
La Casa de Blanca y Xavier
My bedroom
The hammock, television, and bed in my room with the two walls of windows.
The old, old tape holding the screen together where creepy crawlies can enter and the location of my band-aids (I'll post that soon.)
The large holes near the levers where my favorite little geckos haven't tried to get into yet.
Yool Iik'
June 4th, 2009
Since Mother Nature conveniently forgot to pour buckets yesterday afternoon, today’s forecast will prove even more humid than the last few days. I sincerely hope that today will bring the ever so welcome rain clouds. Perhaps I will have to perform a dance to Cháak while pouring water over my head. Breakfast this morning consisted of French toast and cantaloupe, of which I am not a huge fan, though the toast was amazing. I woke up feeling a bit dizzy today and am very thankful for the purified water that the families provide. Xavier is quite amusing and always promises to ask only one question each meal, which of course turns into an endless string of inquiries. Today he was asking about my family and Tim, deciding not to call “il novio” by the Spanish equivalent, Timateo, since it is less attractive to the ear.
Class ended an hour earlier today for a small field trip to Yóol Iik’, the Maya speaking radio station located off the main zocalo. After a short walk in the blazing noon sun, and bustling sidestreets we crowded into the small air conditioned waiting room of Yóol Iik’. Christa, Pablo, Christopher, and I made our way down the hall to the Yóol Iik control room, while Connie, Mark, and Allison awaited their turn. What we didn’t know, but were shortly about to find out, was that we were the sole topic of today’s broadcast. Yes, we were “on air,” speaking solely in Maya. The radio announcer took turns asking us questions such as our name, our hometown, and our course of study, to our relationship status, and our reason for studying Maya. He had a very difficult time pronouncing my name, a commonality I have found both this year and last. Quickly my name became the simplified Maya xJeder once again, with of course everyone laughing at the announcers attempts to pronounce a –th sound. Christa forgot why she was studying Maya, Pablo received a call from a listener which quickly turned into a Spanish rather than Maya conversation, and Christopher surprisingly forgot the name of his wife, to much laughter from my fellow classmates. Needless to say we were all quite pleased when the whole ordeal was complete.
Afterwards the program paid for Level II and Level II to enjoy a traditional Yucatecan lunch in the city, where for the first time this year I enjoyed my very favorite sopa de lima and jamaica. Jach ki’, very tasty! I spent the afternoon in a bit of a daze thanks to the overbearing heat and lack of rain. At six o’clock four of my classmates and I braved the darkened sky and gathered at Allison’s host house to study and work on our homework assignment, where the clouds rolled in and the rain began at last. I genuinely did not want to join the study group, preferring the comfort of my purple hammock near the window. However, many of my classmates had already finished the translation and so it was a breeze for me to complete my own as we corrected the assignment together. Dinner was a delicious plate of quesadillas, before my delightful, note the sarcasm, ice cold shower and bed.
June 5th, 2009
This morning I unfortunately discovered the fate of my leftover fruit. It would seem that my cantaloupe from yesterday morning has transformed into a cold glass of chunky cantaloupe juice. Not so appetizing. I am now faced with the choice of finishing my fruit or facing it a second time perhaps in a less appealing form, a decision I faced with my plate of watermelon this morning, which will not be waiting for me in a glass tomorrow. Obviously I forced myself to eat the nasty, tasteless red bits.
The first strange occurrence of the morning began waiting on the corner for the bus, which proved to be quite a prolonged wait unlike the last several mornings. Three stops after boarding brought our very first chance meeting on the bus with Mark, one of our fellow classmates. Several minutes later and the friendly face of Grant from Level III boarded our bus. I have found it quite strange that we all live so close to each other and yet have never been on the same bus into the city center until this morning. Upon arrival to the UNAM were we shocked to find all of our peers waiting across the street in the shade of a building, the front door to the university securely locked. After twenty minutes the secretary finally arrived with the keys and we filed into our classroom ready to begin.
Forty minutes passed quickly when Christa, sitting two seats in front of me, knocked her notebook onto the floor and leaned back in her chair. Later we decided that she appeared to be laughing hysterically, though it became obvious within seconds that something was quite wrong. First her small body tensed up and began convulsing uncontrollably. Her head fell backwards nearly into Pablo’s lap, her eyes rolling back into her head, and foam pouring out of her mouth. It looked so painful. Connie and Allison managed to reposition her on the tile floor, Christa’s heart rate beating fiercely, and foam rolling onto the tile. After sixty seconds, time had slowed to the pace of a snail, her body relaxed and she seemed to be in a state of sleep. At the same time our professor Ismael was calling Lupe, our coordinator here in Merida and my Level I professor’s wife, who in turn called the doctor. Several more minutes passed before the heavy breathing stopped and she lay motionless on the floor. As Connie moved to reposition her body, Christa sat up and apologized for falling asleep in class, though she had no idea how she had come to be on the floor. She remembered nothing of the incident, and was shocked since she had never had a seizure. She moved to a chair next to Pablo, but I think that all of us could tell that she was not completely there. She even tried to stay for the rest of the class, but Lupe would have none of that and so with her hands shaking and barely able to walk she left for the hospital.
It was a very upsetting event to witness and we were all quite shaken for the remainder of the day. I cannot imagine how scary that would be to have a seizure in a foreign country with none of your loved ones around to protect you and make sure that you are safe. I was very upset for the rest of the day and would really have loved to hear the voice of someone I loved.
When class concluded I returned home for lunch where Blanca once again surprised me with a strange but familiar mannerism. She produced a cold glass of tea from the fridge, which she stirred with a knife in the same way as Nana before wiping the blade on her blouse. After lunch I walked to Connie’s house, noticing that the interior was much fancier than that of my own host family. The pool area is quite charming in its own secluded little courtyard and we spent hours relaxing in the refreshing water. During my afternoon at Anna Rosa’s and Ricardo’s he invited Connie and I to the restaurant that they own and so at nine o’clock we will walk the four blocks to his restaurant.
I was disappointed upon my return to my own host house to find a lack of running water for the remainder of the evening. I wanted nothing more than a cold shower in order to feel refreshed before tonight’s festivities. Without running water I used my bottled water to brush my teeth and wash my face as best as could be managed and together Connie and I went to La Calle, Ricardo’s restaurant. It is a charming little establishment and bar with a simple menu and live music, which occasionally Ricardo even performs himself. He made us feel right at home and brought us fishbowl sized glasses of jamaica, even though he wanted to bring us a cold beer. I think we were both too concerned about the events of the day to consider drinking and were focused on keeping ourselves hydrated. When I returned home there was still no running water and I was very disappointed not to get a shower before bed, especially since I hadn’t showered at this point since Thursday evening.
I am praying for a shower in the morning before a ten o’clock departure with Mark and Connie to the beach in Progreso.
Since Mother Nature conveniently forgot to pour buckets yesterday afternoon, today’s forecast will prove even more humid than the last few days. I sincerely hope that today will bring the ever so welcome rain clouds. Perhaps I will have to perform a dance to Cháak while pouring water over my head. Breakfast this morning consisted of French toast and cantaloupe, of which I am not a huge fan, though the toast was amazing. I woke up feeling a bit dizzy today and am very thankful for the purified water that the families provide. Xavier is quite amusing and always promises to ask only one question each meal, which of course turns into an endless string of inquiries. Today he was asking about my family and Tim, deciding not to call “il novio” by the Spanish equivalent, Timateo, since it is less attractive to the ear.
Class ended an hour earlier today for a small field trip to Yóol Iik’, the Maya speaking radio station located off the main zocalo. After a short walk in the blazing noon sun, and bustling sidestreets we crowded into the small air conditioned waiting room of Yóol Iik’. Christa, Pablo, Christopher, and I made our way down the hall to the Yóol Iik control room, while Connie, Mark, and Allison awaited their turn. What we didn’t know, but were shortly about to find out, was that we were the sole topic of today’s broadcast. Yes, we were “on air,” speaking solely in Maya. The radio announcer took turns asking us questions such as our name, our hometown, and our course of study, to our relationship status, and our reason for studying Maya. He had a very difficult time pronouncing my name, a commonality I have found both this year and last. Quickly my name became the simplified Maya xJeder once again, with of course everyone laughing at the announcers attempts to pronounce a –th sound. Christa forgot why she was studying Maya, Pablo received a call from a listener which quickly turned into a Spanish rather than Maya conversation, and Christopher surprisingly forgot the name of his wife, to much laughter from my fellow classmates. Needless to say we were all quite pleased when the whole ordeal was complete.
Afterwards the program paid for Level II and Level II to enjoy a traditional Yucatecan lunch in the city, where for the first time this year I enjoyed my very favorite sopa de lima and jamaica. Jach ki’, very tasty! I spent the afternoon in a bit of a daze thanks to the overbearing heat and lack of rain. At six o’clock four of my classmates and I braved the darkened sky and gathered at Allison’s host house to study and work on our homework assignment, where the clouds rolled in and the rain began at last. I genuinely did not want to join the study group, preferring the comfort of my purple hammock near the window. However, many of my classmates had already finished the translation and so it was a breeze for me to complete my own as we corrected the assignment together. Dinner was a delicious plate of quesadillas, before my delightful, note the sarcasm, ice cold shower and bed.
June 5th, 2009
This morning I unfortunately discovered the fate of my leftover fruit. It would seem that my cantaloupe from yesterday morning has transformed into a cold glass of chunky cantaloupe juice. Not so appetizing. I am now faced with the choice of finishing my fruit or facing it a second time perhaps in a less appealing form, a decision I faced with my plate of watermelon this morning, which will not be waiting for me in a glass tomorrow. Obviously I forced myself to eat the nasty, tasteless red bits.
The first strange occurrence of the morning began waiting on the corner for the bus, which proved to be quite a prolonged wait unlike the last several mornings. Three stops after boarding brought our very first chance meeting on the bus with Mark, one of our fellow classmates. Several minutes later and the friendly face of Grant from Level III boarded our bus. I have found it quite strange that we all live so close to each other and yet have never been on the same bus into the city center until this morning. Upon arrival to the UNAM were we shocked to find all of our peers waiting across the street in the shade of a building, the front door to the university securely locked. After twenty minutes the secretary finally arrived with the keys and we filed into our classroom ready to begin.
Forty minutes passed quickly when Christa, sitting two seats in front of me, knocked her notebook onto the floor and leaned back in her chair. Later we decided that she appeared to be laughing hysterically, though it became obvious within seconds that something was quite wrong. First her small body tensed up and began convulsing uncontrollably. Her head fell backwards nearly into Pablo’s lap, her eyes rolling back into her head, and foam pouring out of her mouth. It looked so painful. Connie and Allison managed to reposition her on the tile floor, Christa’s heart rate beating fiercely, and foam rolling onto the tile. After sixty seconds, time had slowed to the pace of a snail, her body relaxed and she seemed to be in a state of sleep. At the same time our professor Ismael was calling Lupe, our coordinator here in Merida and my Level I professor’s wife, who in turn called the doctor. Several more minutes passed before the heavy breathing stopped and she lay motionless on the floor. As Connie moved to reposition her body, Christa sat up and apologized for falling asleep in class, though she had no idea how she had come to be on the floor. She remembered nothing of the incident, and was shocked since she had never had a seizure. She moved to a chair next to Pablo, but I think that all of us could tell that she was not completely there. She even tried to stay for the rest of the class, but Lupe would have none of that and so with her hands shaking and barely able to walk she left for the hospital.
It was a very upsetting event to witness and we were all quite shaken for the remainder of the day. I cannot imagine how scary that would be to have a seizure in a foreign country with none of your loved ones around to protect you and make sure that you are safe. I was very upset for the rest of the day and would really have loved to hear the voice of someone I loved.
When class concluded I returned home for lunch where Blanca once again surprised me with a strange but familiar mannerism. She produced a cold glass of tea from the fridge, which she stirred with a knife in the same way as Nana before wiping the blade on her blouse. After lunch I walked to Connie’s house, noticing that the interior was much fancier than that of my own host family. The pool area is quite charming in its own secluded little courtyard and we spent hours relaxing in the refreshing water. During my afternoon at Anna Rosa’s and Ricardo’s he invited Connie and I to the restaurant that they own and so at nine o’clock we will walk the four blocks to his restaurant.
I was disappointed upon my return to my own host house to find a lack of running water for the remainder of the evening. I wanted nothing more than a cold shower in order to feel refreshed before tonight’s festivities. Without running water I used my bottled water to brush my teeth and wash my face as best as could be managed and together Connie and I went to La Calle, Ricardo’s restaurant. It is a charming little establishment and bar with a simple menu and live music, which occasionally Ricardo even performs himself. He made us feel right at home and brought us fishbowl sized glasses of jamaica, even though he wanted to bring us a cold beer. I think we were both too concerned about the events of the day to consider drinking and were focused on keeping ourselves hydrated. When I returned home there was still no running water and I was very disappointed not to get a shower before bed, especially since I hadn’t showered at this point since Thursday evening.
I am praying for a shower in the morning before a ten o’clock departure with Mark and Connie to the beach in Progreso.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
I am Stuck on Band-Aid Brand
June 2nd, 2009
Last night I welcomed the first of my favorite friends, brought most assuredly by the rain and increase in mosquitoes, though I still only have one bite. As several tiny geckos jumped around the jungle gym of window panes, I grabbed my tennis shoe to knock their creepy little bodies off the screens. After sealing the windows, one pesky critter remained chasing a moth, and with much horror I watched it leap and gobble the trapped prey before disappearing through the glass. With that settled I drifted off to sleep listening to my shuffle and praying that my windows were steadfastly secure. Since the windows resolve to protect me from the creatures of the night weren’t in question anymore, the fraying screen of a single pane surely was. I knew my first task for the new day lie in a solution to the gaping hole in my otherwise secure abode.
Breakfast proved to be a delicious plate of pineapple and banana, cinnamon pancakes, and peach juice, actually quite palatable and sweet in comparison to the orange. When I showed Blanca a picture of “il novio” at her request, she remarked that Tim and I were a beautiful couple, “muy bonita.” In fact both Blanca and Javiere found Cyrulik easier to pronounce than Lundy. The walk to the bus was uneventful and Connie seemed amazed at how well I remembered and navigated the streets of Merida to our class at the UNAM. Class of course was routine and at least until the weekend will prove to be more of a bore.
On our return trip the bus drive right passed our stop and so Connie and I were forced to navigate two additional blocks in the blazing sun. Lunch consisted of chicken tortillas, refried beans, and a bowl of what I can only imagine was carrot soup, and I know everyone is familiar with my intense dislike towards the orange veggie. Javiere informed me that the pool was being cleaned and re-chlorinated so that very soon it would be ready for me to swim whenever I wished. What a relief since tomorrow is forecast at 103 degrees. My afternoon was spent lounging in the purple hammock while studying Maya and listening to the sound of the 4:00 storm.
All four of Blanca’s grandchildren were present today and I found with much amusement that her mannerisms remind me of my Nana – the way she moves her hands when she is unsure, the way she raises her eyebrows when she smiles, the silly expression she gets when she finds one of her grandchildren amusing, and most significantly, the way she wipes her hands on her backside while she is cooking and places them on her hips.
I was extremely pleased to find a simple sandwich for dinner with a pitcher of fresh pineapple juice, which Blanca instructed me to take to my room afterwards. In this heat a heavy meal only seems to weigh you down and so I always welcome a lighter dish. Since there is no warm water my shower was frigid, turning me into a human popsicle in mere seconds. My last task for the day, now that you are wondering what happened to the hole in the screen, was to determine how to patch a tear in the screen without tape, as several worn strips dangling from the opening announced a past similar solution. As I looked through my belongings I determined that band-aids were my best bet, and so now, my screen is quite literally stuck on band-aid brand. Only one gecko sneaked between the glass and screen before quickly departing and I fell asleep feeling much relieved about my sticky solution.
June 3rd, 2009
Today began just as the rest, waking early and eating in a rush to rendezvous with Connie. Mexican eggs and toast awaited me at the table, along with apple juice and sadly a plate of cantaloupe. I managed to stuff two bites of the fowl fruit into my mouth after finishing both slices of toast and eggs before hearing Connie’s voice at the gate. Saved by my crazy friend I rushed out of the kitchen and made my way to class.
I am becoming more and more confused by what aspect of language and grammar we are discussing, especially since Ismael only speaks in Spanish to explain Maya. Allison and I talked after class and I am beginning to understand, finally, the significance of the –ej ending. Since today was Wednesday I can at least feel relieved that three days have passed and only two remain before a two day weekend. Mark mentioned making a day trip to the beach in Progresso about thirty minutes north of here and I would very much like to tag along. Connie wanted to go to the bookstore after class so I showed her Dante in the city center, before stopping at a nearby vendor to look for the bean bracelets everyone loved. Unfortunately none were to be found, though I did remember a conversation with Megan about mismatched button earrings for her friend Stephie. For the equivalent of a dollar fifty I purchased four different buttons of varying hues.
When I returned home I had a quick lunch of spaghetti with chicken before retiring to my purple hammock, taking two Tylenol for what I hope is just a dry parched throat and not a sore one. A few of us were meeting at six o’clock to do our homework together, but it is pouring and I don’t feel like getting drenched, especially until someone rescues me by bringing my rain jacket, which we still managed not to pack in the suitcase. Babe and Tim…I want my rain jacket. Lastly, a single mosquito visited out classroom today. The bloodsucking vampire managed to partake of my lovely right arm, which is now suffering from four irritated red lumps on my elbow and shoulder, but don’t fret I only have six types of anti-itch bite sticks to choose from.
Last night I welcomed the first of my favorite friends, brought most assuredly by the rain and increase in mosquitoes, though I still only have one bite. As several tiny geckos jumped around the jungle gym of window panes, I grabbed my tennis shoe to knock their creepy little bodies off the screens. After sealing the windows, one pesky critter remained chasing a moth, and with much horror I watched it leap and gobble the trapped prey before disappearing through the glass. With that settled I drifted off to sleep listening to my shuffle and praying that my windows were steadfastly secure. Since the windows resolve to protect me from the creatures of the night weren’t in question anymore, the fraying screen of a single pane surely was. I knew my first task for the new day lie in a solution to the gaping hole in my otherwise secure abode.
Breakfast proved to be a delicious plate of pineapple and banana, cinnamon pancakes, and peach juice, actually quite palatable and sweet in comparison to the orange. When I showed Blanca a picture of “il novio” at her request, she remarked that Tim and I were a beautiful couple, “muy bonita.” In fact both Blanca and Javiere found Cyrulik easier to pronounce than Lundy. The walk to the bus was uneventful and Connie seemed amazed at how well I remembered and navigated the streets of Merida to our class at the UNAM. Class of course was routine and at least until the weekend will prove to be more of a bore.
On our return trip the bus drive right passed our stop and so Connie and I were forced to navigate two additional blocks in the blazing sun. Lunch consisted of chicken tortillas, refried beans, and a bowl of what I can only imagine was carrot soup, and I know everyone is familiar with my intense dislike towards the orange veggie. Javiere informed me that the pool was being cleaned and re-chlorinated so that very soon it would be ready for me to swim whenever I wished. What a relief since tomorrow is forecast at 103 degrees. My afternoon was spent lounging in the purple hammock while studying Maya and listening to the sound of the 4:00 storm.
All four of Blanca’s grandchildren were present today and I found with much amusement that her mannerisms remind me of my Nana – the way she moves her hands when she is unsure, the way she raises her eyebrows when she smiles, the silly expression she gets when she finds one of her grandchildren amusing, and most significantly, the way she wipes her hands on her backside while she is cooking and places them on her hips.
I was extremely pleased to find a simple sandwich for dinner with a pitcher of fresh pineapple juice, which Blanca instructed me to take to my room afterwards. In this heat a heavy meal only seems to weigh you down and so I always welcome a lighter dish. Since there is no warm water my shower was frigid, turning me into a human popsicle in mere seconds. My last task for the day, now that you are wondering what happened to the hole in the screen, was to determine how to patch a tear in the screen without tape, as several worn strips dangling from the opening announced a past similar solution. As I looked through my belongings I determined that band-aids were my best bet, and so now, my screen is quite literally stuck on band-aid brand. Only one gecko sneaked between the glass and screen before quickly departing and I fell asleep feeling much relieved about my sticky solution.
June 3rd, 2009
Today began just as the rest, waking early and eating in a rush to rendezvous with Connie. Mexican eggs and toast awaited me at the table, along with apple juice and sadly a plate of cantaloupe. I managed to stuff two bites of the fowl fruit into my mouth after finishing both slices of toast and eggs before hearing Connie’s voice at the gate. Saved by my crazy friend I rushed out of the kitchen and made my way to class.
I am becoming more and more confused by what aspect of language and grammar we are discussing, especially since Ismael only speaks in Spanish to explain Maya. Allison and I talked after class and I am beginning to understand, finally, the significance of the –ej ending. Since today was Wednesday I can at least feel relieved that three days have passed and only two remain before a two day weekend. Mark mentioned making a day trip to the beach in Progresso about thirty minutes north of here and I would very much like to tag along. Connie wanted to go to the bookstore after class so I showed her Dante in the city center, before stopping at a nearby vendor to look for the bean bracelets everyone loved. Unfortunately none were to be found, though I did remember a conversation with Megan about mismatched button earrings for her friend Stephie. For the equivalent of a dollar fifty I purchased four different buttons of varying hues.
When I returned home I had a quick lunch of spaghetti with chicken before retiring to my purple hammock, taking two Tylenol for what I hope is just a dry parched throat and not a sore one. A few of us were meeting at six o’clock to do our homework together, but it is pouring and I don’t feel like getting drenched, especially until someone rescues me by bringing my rain jacket, which we still managed not to pack in the suitcase. Babe and Tim…I want my rain jacket. Lastly, a single mosquito visited out classroom today. The bloodsucking vampire managed to partake of my lovely right arm, which is now suffering from four irritated red lumps on my elbow and shoulder, but don’t fret I only have six types of anti-itch bite sticks to choose from.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Arrival in Merida
May 31st, 2009
After a long day spent wandering around airports and breathing recycled air while sitting on less-than-desirable worn-out airline seats and no one to sanitize the tray table, I made my arrival in Merida under cover of darkness. Immigrations and Customs proved long and tedious as usual, but I chatted throughout the long lines and baggage claim with Connie and Grant, who I had rendezvoused with in Houston. I cannot recall the name of the crazy old goon that ate endless amounts of mangoes and provided Megan with innumerable moments of hilarity on her trip to Mali, but it would seem that Connie has been fashioned from the same mold. She is traveling to Belize at the conclusion of this trip and tactlessly informed the custom’s officer that she was carrying live cultures in a refrigerated bag for her vaccine. I’m not sure that was the best approach. Later she would spend fifty pesos on bread that should cost only five and I can only say how thankful I am that she seems clueless half the time so that I feel somewhat, reasonably smart. My own swift visit with Customs brought me face-to-face with a fancy glass screened terminal and an officer saying “Press the button.” I didn’t quite understand at first, but soon realized it was a random method of selecting bags to search. Two seconds and a green light later I could sigh with relief as my belongings rolled past the search table free of aggravating and unwanted searches.
Walking through the last set of doors I soon realized that the mix-up in my arrival had indeed gone unchecked and that no smiling family was awaiting my arrival. Connie, Grant, and Chris, who I later realized was on the same flight, were all embraced by their new families. I felt quite lonely not having a host mother and father waiting at the terminal, though Connie’s family temporarily adopted me, stuffed our bags into the back of their small car, which is saying a lot considering the size of the four bags packed by my eccentric classmate. After a short drive Maria Rosa and her husband phoned Blanca and Javiere, my Mexican family, while parking the car outside a fancy automated gate. There in the driveway I was greeted with hugs and the worried face of Blanca who was still unaware of the mistake in my arrival time. Later she would inform me that she had stressed all day about my whereabouts. Javiere smiled as I crossed the threshold into the living room while carting my bags up the stairs and welcoming me to “my new home.” 
My room is quite large with two sets of screened windows and a ceiling fan for circulation. Aside from a small desk, nightstand, full size bed, closet, hammock, and television, the room is quite simple yet clean, and without creepy crawlies. What a shame too since I had already chosen names! After a cold shower, there is no warm water or air conditioning; I crawled into bed ready to write my blog as I drifted off to sleep only to discover a wireless internet connection. My perpetual evening loneliness was slightly dimmed by the knowledge that my closest friends and family would receive my emails in the morning.
June 1st, 2009
I awoke this morning to the sound of strange birds and quickly dressed before checking emails. I had a restless first night and seemed to wake every hour, tossing and turning, but I promise, Tim, it was only a total of three times. Breakfast consisted of enough toast to feed a giant, scrambled eggs, and papaya, perhaps my least favorite fruit. It was difficult to eat the mushy pink flesh but even worse to rinse it down with the freshly squeezed orange juice, or rather the cup of pulp served with a smidgen of orange liquid. I can only imagine pieces of pulp stuck in my teeth as I told her the juice was wonderful. At 8:20 Connie and Maria Rosa arrived, Blanca grabbed her purse, handed me a bottle of water and pack of crackers and we were out the door. Several blocks over already glistening with sweat, we awaited the wawa (the Maya term for bus), and boarded for a rather long, hot drive to the Parque de Santa Lucia. Another dozen or so blocks of walking and we had arrived at the UNAM where my class will be for the next three weeks. It was with excitement that we walked down the street as I started to recognize my surroundings and even the location of the Hotel San Juan, one of our many homes from last summer.
Class began with Ismael May May shutting the door to an air conditioned room before Maya, and only Maya flowed from his mouth. I’m still trying to pick my jaw up off the ground. Many questions and phrases seemed to float back into my mind with ease, and I found myself feeling quite pleased with how well I was recalling Maya from last summer and how I could actually understand what Ismael was saying. Though my major mistake of the day proved to be an answer to “Do you have kids?” of which I either responded “My road has ended,” or “I’m dead.” Later I was thrown for a bit of a loop when Ismael asked each of us whether we were single or married and the only thing I could think of was some variant of “Tun tz’o’okol in beel,” the closest I could come up with for unofficially engaged. Even knowing how well class progressed today I am still nervous about tomorrow and what errors await. My only comfort is that at least we all probably feel like fools at some point during the lesson. After a year, Pablo is pretty much the same funny character, and Christa just as pretentious and annoying. I have to remind myself that a conversation with her is just not worth my time. Unfortunately there are just some people that will always make others feel inferior and luckily I have the choice not to associate with her as much as possible.
After class we walked two blocks to the UADY for our credentials where Javiere joined us to take Connie and I back to our new homes. Tomorrow we will make the trip without Blanca, Maria Rosa, or Javiere, but I feel confident now that they have taken the time to show us the way to the UNAM. Blanca had prepared a rather large meal for my return and after eating I retired to my room shortly after noticing the beautiful pool in the backyard. Javiere speaks excellent English so communicating is much easier than I expected, but it still did not deter him from quizzing me in Spanish over lunch. It feels as if I have been beaten over the head with Maya all day, and now I have to switch on the Spanish for the evening. A storm was brewing in the distance, and just as it started to pour I settled into my hammock to check emails and write my first blog. I have a small bit of homework this evening followed by a cold shower and bed. It was so exciting to chat with Tim and Megan, but also bittersweet when the connection failed during the storm.
After a long day spent wandering around airports and breathing recycled air while sitting on less-than-desirable worn-out airline seats and no one to sanitize the tray table, I made my arrival in Merida under cover of darkness. Immigrations and Customs proved long and tedious as usual, but I chatted throughout the long lines and baggage claim with Connie and Grant, who I had rendezvoused with in Houston. I cannot recall the name of the crazy old goon that ate endless amounts of mangoes and provided Megan with innumerable moments of hilarity on her trip to Mali, but it would seem that Connie has been fashioned from the same mold. She is traveling to Belize at the conclusion of this trip and tactlessly informed the custom’s officer that she was carrying live cultures in a refrigerated bag for her vaccine. I’m not sure that was the best approach. Later she would spend fifty pesos on bread that should cost only five and I can only say how thankful I am that she seems clueless half the time so that I feel somewhat, reasonably smart. My own swift visit with Customs brought me face-to-face with a fancy glass screened terminal and an officer saying “Press the button.” I didn’t quite understand at first, but soon realized it was a random method of selecting bags to search. Two seconds and a green light later I could sigh with relief as my belongings rolled past the search table free of aggravating and unwanted searches.
Walking through the last set of doors I soon realized that the mix-up in my arrival had indeed gone unchecked and that no smiling family was awaiting my arrival. Connie, Grant, and Chris, who I later realized was on the same flight, were all embraced by their new families. I felt quite lonely not having a host mother and father waiting at the terminal, though Connie’s family temporarily adopted me, stuffed our bags into the back of their small car, which is saying a lot considering the size of the four bags packed by my eccentric classmate. After a short drive Maria Rosa and her husband phoned Blanca and Javiere, my Mexican family, while parking the car outside a fancy automated gate. There in the driveway I was greeted with hugs and the worried face of Blanca who was still unaware of the mistake in my arrival time. Later she would inform me that she had stressed all day about my whereabouts. Javiere smiled as I crossed the threshold into the living room while carting my bags up the stairs and welcoming me to “my new home.”
My room is quite large with two sets of screened windows and a ceiling fan for circulation. Aside from a small desk, nightstand, full size bed, closet, hammock, and television, the room is quite simple yet clean, and without creepy crawlies. What a shame too since I had already chosen names! After a cold shower, there is no warm water or air conditioning; I crawled into bed ready to write my blog as I drifted off to sleep only to discover a wireless internet connection. My perpetual evening loneliness was slightly dimmed by the knowledge that my closest friends and family would receive my emails in the morning.
June 1st, 2009
I awoke this morning to the sound of strange birds and quickly dressed before checking emails. I had a restless first night and seemed to wake every hour, tossing and turning, but I promise, Tim, it was only a total of three times. Breakfast consisted of enough toast to feed a giant, scrambled eggs, and papaya, perhaps my least favorite fruit. It was difficult to eat the mushy pink flesh but even worse to rinse it down with the freshly squeezed orange juice, or rather the cup of pulp served with a smidgen of orange liquid. I can only imagine pieces of pulp stuck in my teeth as I told her the juice was wonderful. At 8:20 Connie and Maria Rosa arrived, Blanca grabbed her purse, handed me a bottle of water and pack of crackers and we were out the door. Several blocks over already glistening with sweat, we awaited the wawa (the Maya term for bus), and boarded for a rather long, hot drive to the Parque de Santa Lucia. Another dozen or so blocks of walking and we had arrived at the UNAM where my class will be for the next three weeks. It was with excitement that we walked down the street as I started to recognize my surroundings and even the location of the Hotel San Juan, one of our many homes from last summer.
Class began with Ismael May May shutting the door to an air conditioned room before Maya, and only Maya flowed from his mouth. I’m still trying to pick my jaw up off the ground. Many questions and phrases seemed to float back into my mind with ease, and I found myself feeling quite pleased with how well I was recalling Maya from last summer and how I could actually understand what Ismael was saying. Though my major mistake of the day proved to be an answer to “Do you have kids?” of which I either responded “My road has ended,” or “I’m dead.” Later I was thrown for a bit of a loop when Ismael asked each of us whether we were single or married and the only thing I could think of was some variant of “Tun tz’o’okol in beel,” the closest I could come up with for unofficially engaged. Even knowing how well class progressed today I am still nervous about tomorrow and what errors await. My only comfort is that at least we all probably feel like fools at some point during the lesson. After a year, Pablo is pretty much the same funny character, and Christa just as pretentious and annoying. I have to remind myself that a conversation with her is just not worth my time. Unfortunately there are just some people that will always make others feel inferior and luckily I have the choice not to associate with her as much as possible.
After class we walked two blocks to the UADY for our credentials where Javiere joined us to take Connie and I back to our new homes. Tomorrow we will make the trip without Blanca, Maria Rosa, or Javiere, but I feel confident now that they have taken the time to show us the way to the UNAM. Blanca had prepared a rather large meal for my return and after eating I retired to my room shortly after noticing the beautiful pool in the backyard. Javiere speaks excellent English so communicating is much easier than I expected, but it still did not deter him from quizzing me in Spanish over lunch. It feels as if I have been beaten over the head with Maya all day, and now I have to switch on the Spanish for the evening. A storm was brewing in the distance, and just as it started to pour I settled into my hammock to check emails and write my first blog. I have a small bit of homework this evening followed by a cold shower and bed. It was so exciting to chat with Tim and Megan, but also bittersweet when the connection failed during the storm.
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