Queso, please

I had my first experience in a Mexican mercado today. I decided it was time to lay off the taco stand and put some food in my house.

There's this little mercardo ( market ) right behind my house, literally on the next block. It's really tiny, and filled with all of the absolute necessities. Eggs, milk, butter, cheese, chorizo, tortillas, your standard vegetables for Mexican cooking ( avocado, onion, cucumber, potato, etc. ), bread, beans, cereal, laundry soap, cigarettes, refreshments, that sort of thing.

What makes it interesting is that it's completely packed with people, and several of the food items are stocked behind the counter. It's like Wall Street, people gathered around shouting orders out and a bunch of clerks behind the counter scrambling around to get it. I needed cheese and was absolutely terrified to try and ask for it, lest I make a mistake and single myself out as the stumbling American amidst the huge crowd of natives. Fortunately someone else needed cheese. She raised her hand and screamed "QUESO!". When the clerk looked at me, I did the same, and he got me my cheese.

I won. Yes.

Viva Mexico

Well on Friday I discovered that the 16th was going to be Mexico's Independence Day, and the evening of Saturday the 15th was going to be the Grito Fiesta downtown Chihuahua. So I decided that it was time to peel my ass off of the leather chair and get downtown to witness the festivities. I hopped a taxi and went to the inner city.

It was pretty neat, I'm not gonna lie. The streets were lined with peddlers and their wares, very bazaar-like. Food was everywhere. Apparently corn is a huge deal here, because I saw about 20 corn stands. It's corn on the cob, grilled, on a stick, with various Mexican seasonings applied. I didn't try one myself because I'm not the biggest fan of corn on the cob, with its stick-between-your-teeth properties, but it looked good. I went with the tacos. 25 pesos for 5 tacos; I couldn't pass it up. I was at first enticed by the gigantic ball of meat sitting on a rotating pole. A butcher stood below it with two enormous cleavers and a bloody apron slicing shreds from the ball which fell down onto the stove to be cooked.

The amount of people was just plain stifling. Thousands upon thousands of people everywhere. At one point I ducked into a bar to wait it out until the fireworks ceremony. Unfortunately they began an hour early and I missed them while trying to flag down the bartender to pay my 2-beer frickin' tab. There was a television in there with a live broadcast and I could hear the detonations, so I suppose I was as close as you could get without seeing it in person.

I got a few pictures, but none are really all that impressive. Truthfully, I stand out in a crowd and I felt like a dip-shit snapping pictures like a tourist. But.. here's what's what.

Time to take a breather...

The first week is over, and it's bittersweet.

On one hand, I have next to no life outside of work right now. After work, I take the dreaded bus back to my house and I generally tend to latch myself onto my computer and seek solace with anyone I can find who owns an instant messenger and speaks English. I'm facing an awful barrier when it comes to developing a social life: my Spanish isn't adequate enough to hold a conversation with someone in hopes of creating friendship. At the same time, it's tough to put myself in situations where I might be forced to at least try, because that would require me to enter a place where social situations thrive, such as a bar, alone. I would have to sit in a bar, alone. Feel free to let me know if that wouldn't look or seem awkward to you. So, without the necessary language skills, I'm forced to be a hermit.

On the other hand, this week was terrifying. I have three classes right now, okay? My first one hates me. It's hard enough being a grammar teacher. No one likes grammar. It's boring, and there's pretty much no way to make it fun. Students at this school attend for two hours -- two one hour classes. My first class is followed by a class on idioms, and my last class follows that class. What would you rather learn? Interesting idiomatic expressions like "Let's make like a banana and split"? Or how to incorporate "already" and "yet" into sentences using the present perfect tense? Right. So I've already got one strike against me, and unfortunately they've failed to let go the humiliating stumbles of my first day with the text book mix-up. Sometimes I'll be explaining something, and then I'll stop and say "Okay, wait.. let me explain this a different way to make it easier." Then they give each other the looks and the snickers, the "God, what an idiot" motions. No, I'm not just paranoid -- it's glaringly obvious.

I can't believe I'm stuck with these little shits for the next 5 weeks. I mean, give me a break for the love of God. I'm trying.

Class number two is great. Until today there was only one girl, and she's the sweetest person alive. It was easy to feel comfortable because the first day we just spent conversing and such, and now it's like teaching a friend. She was absent today, but two more guys registered who are phenomenal and simply the easiest people to get along with. Plus they're American football fans, which made it simple to break the ice. Personally, I look at my second class as just teaching a few cool people -- nothing more or less. In addition, their English, since it's a level 4 ( the highest ) class, is unbelievable, so I don't have to deal with the dumbfounded looks. Looks that are understandable, of course, but looks that put me on the spot nonetheless.

My last class is my favorite. It's up to 12 people now, and they rock my socks off. No complaints from them, ever. If they don't understand something, they say so and give me the chance to rephrase or take a different approach. One woman in particular is my favorite student. It's not because she's someone I would want to hang out with or anything, she just makes me laugh ( inside ). She's 44 I believe, but doesn't look anywhere near it. She must spend HOURS trying to look like a super model, but while her efforts are commendable, she doesn't come close. The greatest thing is that she clings to every word that comes out of my mouth like it is the word of God, pencil and notebook at the ready. When she speaks, she tries to pull of the whole Marilyn Monroe whisper/moan conglomeration, emphasizing certain words with a seductive undertone -- "Teacher, how do you pronounce.. 'incorrect'?" Most of the time I lecture briefly on the new structures in grammar, have them do the exercises on their own, and then let them each speak their own answers out loud. When it's her turn, she's so serious and certain about it that I'm almost scared to correct her mistakes lest I cause her world to crumble to pieces. Really, I thank the heavens for this lady. She totally makes my day.

The other students in that class are just as great, in their own different ways. After the grotesque stress of my first class, I really end up looking forward to the last one.

So, it's over. I have three days to breathe, and for that I'm extremely thankful. While class number one is the constipation in my ass, working at this school is really not so horrendous. I enjoy going there very much. Right now I'm just glad it's over because I know how shit goes, and now I have the weekend to develop a new plan of attack. Even if it costs me my sanity, I'm going to figure out a way to make grammar interesting. To do more than lecture, practice, say aloud, repeat. I refuse to let class one turn me completely cynical -- those little fuckers are going to recognize even if it's the last thing I do. I'm sad to be going forth into a weekend of potential extreme boredom, but thank heavens for the chance to breathe and reboot.

My First Day of School

Today was my first day doing laundry at my new place. I've been putting it off because I didn't know exactly where the laundry mat was, and when I first got here my roommate had offered to bring me along with him when he did it so we could use his car. Well, unfortunately, my roommate is never here, and when he is, he's boarded-up in his room laughing at the television. So taking into consideration that I would begin teaching today, I intended on pulling it off yesterday. When the trumpets sounded and my roommate finally emerged from his den, I was, much to my chagrin, informed that the laundry mat was already closed and that I would need to go myself during the day today before work.

The laundry mat is about 6 long blocks from here. Not so bad, I can handle that. I can see the building it's behind from my house. Problem was, I used nearly every article of clean clothing I have in procrastinating this endeavor. So I stuffed them all into a black Hefty bag, slung my Duffle bag over my shoulder so I could bring my soap and a book to read, and left on my merry way. Wouldn't you know, halfway there and the bag rips to shreds and my clothes spill out everywhere. Thanks, universe.

I gathered them together in my arms, which was a serious feat considering that I was dealing with about three loads of laundry, and ran/waddled the rest of the way to the laundry mat. I was met by an incredibly nice, little old lady who helped me with everything and was thankfully patient with my Spanish handicap. Little did I know that her benevolence was just a form of foreplay to the severe f-ing I was going to get with her $8.00 invoice. For laundry. 3 washers and 2 driers. I was blown away, especially considering how cheap most everything else is here.

I got to work early enough to have a chat and eat with my taco guy ( I call him mine because he won my heart with the most incredible shrimp tacos ever to grace existence ) and then went in to prepare for my first class.

Funny thing is, I wasn't nervous at all. I was going to be teaching the present perfect tense, negative questions and answers, and tag questions. All of which for me are like riding a bike. So my first class begins. Four people. Good, I can handle that. I introduce myself and give them the low-down on me, have them do the same, and then we crack open the book.

"What's your name again? Okay, sorry. So, will you please read from the top -- letter A?"

They all look at me like I'm an idiot, because it turns out that they have a different book than I do. Shit. I ran to the office and looked through the books, and from what I can tell, it's simply the first part of my book that they're missing. Their book starts at my book's page 10. Good. So I start at page ten. We flip the page, and it changes again. Son of a --! I run back to the office again, and at this point the students are all looking at each other and smirking. We had about 20 minutes left for learning, and I was so unprepared for that lesson that I just stumbled through the whole thing.

Afterwards I smoked the most amazing cigarette I've ever smoked, thinking meanwhile about how they're going to go home tonight and their families will ask them, "How was your day at school?" To which they'll reply, "Well, we had the dumbest teacher ever, but.."

My second class, I had no students. Registration is all week, and none started today. Hallelujah. I took that hour to chain smoke and go over the material for my last class. My last class, which was the exact same subject as the first one, went much smoother. I had 8 students, which somehow was better because it felt like there was much less pressure. It turned out that I originally had the right book, and that the students had gotten the wrong ones, so I felt a lot better about that. We got the books matched up and I was able to teach what I had originally prepared for ( instead of having to read ahead on each page so I knew what I would be explaining like I did in the first one ), and I managed to be much more graceful about it. Now just to patch up the bad first impression I caused in the first class, tomorrow.

In the end, I don't have much to complain about. The first class was horrific while I was dealing with it, but after it was over and I had a moment to think clearly, I understood that I shouldn't have expected my first day to be flawless anyway. It's a little strange to be called "Teacher," or "Sir," especially since, particularly in my last class, all of my students but one are older than I am. I tried to have them call me James or Jaime ( Spanish-speakers have a tough time with J.R. ), but they wouldn't have it. I suppose I'll get used to it. I'm simply going to aim to do better tomorrow.

Bus shenanigans

I have experienced so many problems with the bus system here, I'm about to just light myself on fire. Every time I think I have it worked out, it manages to screw me over in some new and creative way.

Yesterday, the driver refused to drop me off at my stop and let me off a mile away. I finally got back to where I needed to go, and the next bus I needed just failed to appear. Well, it appeared once, driving along side another bus, and he wouldn't stop even as I jumped up and down waving my arms in desperation. Then I saw a million taxis, none of which would stop for me. Eventually I realized that I was standing 5 feet from a taxi service stand and managed to snag one there. I was 10 minutes late to my last day of training.

There was that particular instance, but something obnoxious happens with the bus every day.

I had my first downtown experience two evenings ago. I wouldn't say that it was on purpose.. I was trying to go home from work and the bus I was on just decided to veer off in the direction opposite of where I needed to go. It took me into downtown, so I just figured I'd get off there and have a look around. I discovered an incredible bar in one area, one where the seating is high up on the roof, outside, where the air is fresh, the drinks are cheap, and the techno is abundant. I felt a bit like a loser sitting alone with my beer, bobbing my head to the music, but... I've been dying for something to entertain myself with and I suppose I found it.

As for the rest of downtown, it's filled with people, stores, bazaars, peddlers with their wares and music on the streets. I've found out that for what I'm paying for rent where I am, I can have my own 2-bedroom apartment closer to downtown. My own. The problem is it's unfurnished, but it's definitely something I'm going to keep in mind for the future. As it is, I'm about a 40 - 50 minute bus ride from where I am to downtown. About 15-20 by car. We'll see.

Does anyone know how to get a bottle cap off without a bottle opener? For some reason, twist-tops don't exist here, much to my dismayed realization. I'm thirsty for my Fresca.

Getting my settle on

I've been hit with this feeling. I think it might be resignation. Most likely it's a calm realization. I'm not sure. All I know is that all of a sudden, I've realized that I'm here, and this is it. This is my life. This is my job. This is my neighborhood. This is my bedroom and this is where I put my things. This is my convenience store, the one I walk to when I need something. This is my grocery store, the one I go to when I need groceries. This is my local mall. This is it. This is my home. Sometimes I'll occasionally still get a pang in my gut, one that makes me ask myself what I'm doing here and what I was thinking. But slowly I'm being consumed by comfort and acceptance, and that might just be a little scarier. I was just thinking about it yesterday -- soon things are going to start being familiar, if you can understand what I mean.

I'll admit the whole concept makes me a little bit sad. I miss my friends and I miss my mother and brothers. Honestly, for a while, I was sure I was just going to say "fuck it" and go back home. I thought it would just be a matter of time before I saw everyone again and things returned to normal. But as things start to wind down and this is becoming what's normal, I'm understanding that it's going to be a while before I see anyone. In any case, I love you guys so fucking much that it makes my heart ache. That's never going to change just because I'm somewhere else. I think about all of you every single day, and I'm always going to.

Moving on from the sappiness, I totally screwed myself over trying to get to my first day of training yesterday. So, I need to take Ruta Una or Ruta Dos. Okay? Both will take me where I need to go. Sometimes they switch their routes up and go some crazy long way, from what I've been told, so occasionally if I see that begin to happen I need to get off the bus and grab the next one. Okay? Sounds simple. Well, for Ruta Uno and Ruta Dos, there's also Colon and Vallarta. I need to be on Vallarta. Well, wouldn't you know I jumped on Colon yesterday without thinking about it. I spent 2 and a half hours on that damned bus and was an hour late to my training class. Fortunately they were totally cool about it, but 2 and a half hours on the most rickety, run-down bus you've ever seen was enough to piss me right off. It was additionally annoying that as soon as I got there, I got to listen to the wrap-up speech for a mere 20 minutes and then head right back home. I get to try again today, so we'll see how that goes.

I'm home

Alright. So, there's internet here. It's an unnecessary luxury, so I was prepared to face not having it. Fortunately, my roommate loves it as much as I do, and he's planning on financing the entire bill for it in exchange for some English lessons. Which almost makes me want to break my heterosexual boundaries and spank him for being so glorious. Almost, but not quite.

He's a pretty cool guy. He's 32, severely Catholic and a bit nerdy, but that's totally cool because I enjoy nerdy people. Not much else to say about him. He's just plain nice.

So here are the goods. This is my house ( and I say "house" because it's a not connected in any way to any other buildings, but really it's the size of an apartment. ).



Here is the inside.




I'd show the kitchen, but it's not anything to sing about unless you're interested in seeing a lone refrigerator. Yeah, no stove. I'm not even going to get into that right now.

My bedroom.




And our security system on the wall that surrounds the house.



It's pretty much the equivalent of barbed wire, only it's not. It's shards of glass sticking up from the cement. And it's also awesome.

So I got that job at Lingua Franca. Which is fantastic. I train Monday through Thursday next week and then I get my teach on the following Monday. They're also going to get me my FM3 working visa after 3 months and will get me citizenship if I so desire it later on. My roommate, whose initials are also J.R. and that makes him even cooler, took me down there this morning like the nice guy he is and also explained the bus system to me. In Spanish. Fortunately my comprehension skills are moving along quite nicely and I got it, for the most part. The part I liked the best was when he dropped me off with a final piece of advice - "Watch out for the thieves." Great, thanks.

The worst was getting home. I watched the two bus numbers I wanted go right by me about a million times. When I finally found out where they were stopping, I waited there and watched 'em zoom right by me another million times. That was until some other guy came up and grabbed a bus, and I realized that apparently you have to flag it down, taxi-style. I ended up getting home safe in the end, all of my belongings unscathed.

So this neighborhood rocks my world. It's not fancy, and my spectacular view is now a thing of the past, but there's so many places I can walk to. Two gas stations, a grocery store, a video store, a bus stop, a tortillaria, a smoothie shop, this burger stand thing ( think State Fair food stands ) which I went to last night and has the most incredibly succulent burgers on the planet, a laundry mat, and a bar. Considering the fact that absolutely nothing was accessible to me from my last location, I hardly know what to do with myself.

I think that's it. I really wish I could have elaborated more on the individual aspects of these last twenty-four hours, but this has already gotten pretty long and I want to go and do some exploring.