I haven´t sent an update recently and quite a few of you have been harassing me to do so.
Your wish is my command...Last weekend we took a trip to Mexico City, for those of you who aren´t in the know, you simply say Mexico (sin city...get it... you spanish speakers, you). I have heard many horror stories of the citay and was a little apprehensive for my personal safety; I was fully expecting to fear for my life/health/livelihood/kidneys et cetera, however, this was far from the case.
Yasmin and I took the city by storm and found that the largest fear factor is spending time with a group of panicking inexperienced travelers. Needless to say, we have found ways to ditch them whenever possible and Professora has finally figured out that I am safe and able to navigate the city. Mum, Dad, don´t worry, I didn´t accept rides from strange men.
A slight diversion: The Public Transportation in Mexico
The buses are AMAZING! Serious luxury, people. Such decadence has only been experienced on a first class Virgin flight years ago, champagne et al. There are two classes of bus travel in Mexico,
Primera Plus (money class ifyaknowhatimean) and Amarilla Flecha (the jungle); these two were not,repeat: not, created equal. Upon check-in at Primera Plus you will receive a sandwich, cookies,drink, and coffee sachet (oh, the joy of the coffee sachet). When you make your way to your assigned seat, you will be able to recline your seat to approx. 135 degrees where, for your viewing pleasure, a film (or several) will be played for your enjoyment during the duration of your journey. The bus is clean, it has a bathroom, there is a foot rest, I mean, people, this is L U X U R Y. Flecha Amarilla, however, is a far cry from luxury. If you have taken the Orient Express through Chinatown, you will have a picture not dissimilar to this rather lacking experience. On Flecha Amarilla, the jungle, you must carry a switchblade to fight for you seat. It is not unusual for a passenger to get onto the bus with their 7 children who climb on their mother/seat/each other like a jungle gym and if you are lucky, the children will burst into a song that is painful for your ears/head and then harass you to give them money for their horrendous performance. I mean, I gotta respect that we are all trying to make a living, but couldn´t they sell chicalets like the rest of employed children under the age of 5? Primara plus has suspension,The Jungle does not. PP has air conditioning, the widows of the jungle might sever your fingers whilst you are energetically trying to open them due to the heat and horrific smells that have
begun to permeate your system and make you ill; seriously, I have the scars and a reduced forefinger to prove it. Maybe the English were on to something when they thought smells would give you the plague, I have never felt so unwell in my life. Momma, I thought of you on that cable car in Turkey as I nearly squeezed myself out of the 2" crack I was able to procure able after severing my finger and breaking a nail. Needless to say, pay the extra 50 cents and take Primera Plus any opportunity you have.
We set off for Mexico on Friday morning -- after 2.5 hours of sleep for Yasmin and myself -- comfortably arriving in the early afternoon. Professora was panicking and shouting, as usual,about the risks, the danger, and the necessity of conversing solamente in espanol. Out hotel was charming and we set down our heavy limbs and bags for a moment before embarking upon what potentially could be the last journey of our lives. I held my kidneys and earplugs -- 2 things it would be hard to survive without -- close, took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and ran out into the street. Luckily there were no cars to terminate my life after my poor judgment in blind running and I opened them to see a beautiful and bustling city.
Wow, Mexico is a rockin´ city, don´t believe the horror stories. It was really cool to see Diego Rivera murals in the flesh; when enough oil paint is used, I swear you could believe it was flesh...or, maybe it was the fear factor and dehydration, just my imagination running away with me(80´s anyone...?). And the highlight of my trip: visiting Teotihuacan(http://www.mexicocity.com.mx/teoti_i.html). I have been wanting to visit the big T since we studied the pyramids briefly in sixth grade or something. The precision of planning, degree of accuracy, and sheer monumental visual stimulation was exhilarating. In addition to my selfish joy and sense of accomplishment of hiking up the damn things, it was hard to think of the obliteration of the indigenous people who had walked barefoot up the Avenue of the Dead before my teva clad ones had.
Later, against all better judgment, I mean, really, we decided to hit the club scene. Replicating a VW commercial, we crammed six people (AND driver) into a cab and sped off toward the flickering lights. I was wearing a belt, um, I mean, skirt that the driver craned his neck to see under while driving which resulted in the near death of several dogs/cats/children/grandmothers. We walked around trying to find our ideal venue -- we didn´t -- before breaking into 2 groups. We nearly spent the evening watching strippers, but after eying their (lack of) talent, I decided that I needed to shake my money maker. My reduced group of 4 went to V.I.P. I should have be clued in by the "woman" in line in front of me that this was no ordinary club; her hips were too narrow, her breasts to perky, her hair too prissy, but I didn´t realize until we were inside that this was indeed was a gay club.
I hope you are giggling, because you should be. Beautiful men surrounded me with intoxicating dance moves, a TS cabaret show, and more hair products than those used during the entire broadway running of Hairspray created a most amusing environment. My gaze was transfixed on a particular man with impeccable style and enviable rhythm for most of the night and his boyfriend looked about
ready to jump me by the end. A topless man wearing a cowboy hat tried his magic with both Diana and Tien before whipping out a condom to lure out any takers. Oh, my! Luis looked increasingly uncomfortable and my ab´s hurt from laughing so hard. Whattanight.
We decided to walk home. Yeh, bad idea, I know. Tien glanced nervously around and pointed out that he couldn´t defend me in my belt. The police pulled over to hoot n holler and practice their English, "you are a very beautiful woman", "good morning", and "yes, i like." I took charge of the situation after minor cardiac arrest and we took another shoebox taxi home.
Back at the pad, I discovered Courtney had become deathly ill in my absence and was lying on the bathroom floor struggling to breath, no bueno. I stayed lovingly in the next room -- ew, she was coughing so hard that she was throwing up -- and then took her to the doctor today in Guanjuato.Don´t worry, she only has an infection and is now on penicillin and 2 other medications. I am ridiculously proud that my spanish skills were sufficient to converse with la doctura and get such good results and i hope you are too.
