2 inches of snow. And hours of darkness everyday. MI winters are like purgatory. Not quite miserable enough to be Hell, but definitely not nice enough to be heaven! I keep telling myself it's a small price to pay to be home again, but sometimes I'm not sure.
It's not really the cold that's annoying. Yes, it's very chilly here, but with the right clothing (and boots, and coat, and gloves, and hat, and scarf) and central heating, it's really quite comfortable most of the time. And who doesn't like cuddling up in front of a warm fire under a heavy quilt sipping hot chocolate? Very nice.
But the snow sucks. I woke up to the sound of fingernails scratching my bedroom window. At least, that's what I thought it was, so I immediately freaked out. Alas, it was my wonderful father shoveling the sidewalk (under my window) at 6am. And the entryways of buildings are always wet and dripping with snow. The roads are icy and dangerous. Seriously, if Jesus wanted people to live with snow, He would have been born in a colder country.
Another thing about MI winters that I never noticed before - how dark it is here in the winter. I had heard about SAD (Seasonal Affect Disorder) where people get depressed in the cold winter months, but I honestly thought it was all balderdash. I mean, millions of people survive northern winters every year! Then I moved to MX. I spend most of my day exposed to sunshine. The sun is rising as I wake up (around 7am) and sets after I get home (6pm). I spend 2-3 hours driving in bright sun every day. My classroom is in a building, but that building has an open courtyard, meaning that the "hallway" outside my room is exposed to sunshine. I'm groggy all day here as I wait for the sunshine to come out and wake me up.
I'm going to need some serious convincing to stay here longer than a few weeks!
Can I be a snowbird at 30?
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Monday, December 15, 2008
Coming back
Some wierd thoughts as we come back to the USA for a few weeks:
Traffic - the roads are so wide, and open, and fast-moving, and nearly empty! And everyone follows the rules, even with no cops around. There's even signs telling traffic where to go and why a road is closed. It's almost like information overload. I've actually been early a few times, due to traffic being better than expected. (My expectations changed, not the traffic).
shopping - it is amazing how much junk food we have available. There are way too many brands of non-food products here. I mean, how many kinds of chips does a normal person need?
Visiting Target was like an anthropologist on vacation - I kept seeing stuff we "needed". They even have special aisles of pre-boxed gifts, organized by price range. There were aisles and aisles of "home accessories" which basically meant cheap junk made in Asia that someone is telling the American public we need in our homes or they will look empty and ugly.
church - there is just something about worshipping in one's own language that makes our heart sing. I was singing and crying and laughing all at once. I couldn't praise hard enough, it was just so wonderful to be able to worship together with everyone and not once feel confused or out of place.
home - our home is in very good shape. They guys are taking good care of our house. But there is still a surreal feeling to live out of suitcases in our "own" house. I don't like the food in the fridge, I don't use the products in the bathroom, I don't read the books on the shelves, I don't watch the channels programmed on the TV. It feels more like visiting a dear family member's house than our own - we feel comfortable enough to wash our clothes, and get our own drinks, but not enough to walk around in a towel.
Traffic - the roads are so wide, and open, and fast-moving, and nearly empty! And everyone follows the rules, even with no cops around. There's even signs telling traffic where to go and why a road is closed. It's almost like information overload. I've actually been early a few times, due to traffic being better than expected. (My expectations changed, not the traffic).
shopping - it is amazing how much junk food we have available. There are way too many brands of non-food products here. I mean, how many kinds of chips does a normal person need?
Visiting Target was like an anthropologist on vacation - I kept seeing stuff we "needed". They even have special aisles of pre-boxed gifts, organized by price range. There were aisles and aisles of "home accessories" which basically meant cheap junk made in Asia that someone is telling the American public we need in our homes or they will look empty and ugly.
church - there is just something about worshipping in one's own language that makes our heart sing. I was singing and crying and laughing all at once. I couldn't praise hard enough, it was just so wonderful to be able to worship together with everyone and not once feel confused or out of place.
home - our home is in very good shape. They guys are taking good care of our house. But there is still a surreal feeling to live out of suitcases in our "own" house. I don't like the food in the fridge, I don't use the products in the bathroom, I don't read the books on the shelves, I don't watch the channels programmed on the TV. It feels more like visiting a dear family member's house than our own - we feel comfortable enough to wash our clothes, and get our own drinks, but not enough to walk around in a towel.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
the news
Yesterday morning, we heard some horrible news as we were waking up. Even though we had mentally prepared for such news, hearing it was still horrible.
Denial clouded my brain as I struggled to wake up and realize this wasn't a dream.
Depression kept me stuck in bed, cowering under the covers.
Anger ripped through me as my head woke up, and my rage fueled me into action.
Soon, we were packed and ready to go home.
There was nothing we could do, nothing we could say, that would change the news or make the blow any better, but we felt like we had to be there.
ok, so we were planning our trip home anyway, but now it felt like we were going home for a funeral. Denial, depression, anger, and finally, action. The grief process. I felt ashamed to react this way to news that wasn't the death of someone I loved. But it did feel like someone, something had died at least.
It was the death of a dream.
For 3 generations, the US auto industry has fueled dreams in Michigan. Blue collar, white collar, pink collar, and service industries in the state are directly tied to the auto industry. Those of us who don't work directly for automakers or suppliers have someone in our family who does or work to serve those who do. Autoworkers pay taxes for roads and schools and libraries and prisons and welfare, their insurance pays for doctors and hospitals, their offerings pay for churches and charities, their salaries pay for flights and vacations and houses and haircuts and parties and college tuition. There is not a single person in MI who will not lose money this year. We all lost something today.
When the senate decided not to help us, it was the death of a dream.
Our dream.
The American Dream.
The Michigan Dream.
We're living a nightmare.
Denial clouded my brain as I struggled to wake up and realize this wasn't a dream.
Depression kept me stuck in bed, cowering under the covers.
Anger ripped through me as my head woke up, and my rage fueled me into action.
Soon, we were packed and ready to go home.
There was nothing we could do, nothing we could say, that would change the news or make the blow any better, but we felt like we had to be there.
ok, so we were planning our trip home anyway, but now it felt like we were going home for a funeral. Denial, depression, anger, and finally, action. The grief process. I felt ashamed to react this way to news that wasn't the death of someone I loved. But it did feel like someone, something had died at least.
It was the death of a dream.
For 3 generations, the US auto industry has fueled dreams in Michigan. Blue collar, white collar, pink collar, and service industries in the state are directly tied to the auto industry. Those of us who don't work directly for automakers or suppliers have someone in our family who does or work to serve those who do. Autoworkers pay taxes for roads and schools and libraries and prisons and welfare, their insurance pays for doctors and hospitals, their offerings pay for churches and charities, their salaries pay for flights and vacations and houses and haircuts and parties and college tuition. There is not a single person in MI who will not lose money this year. We all lost something today.
When the senate decided not to help us, it was the death of a dream.
Our dream.
The American Dream.
The Michigan Dream.
We're living a nightmare.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
It's not really beginning to look even a little bit like Christmas, actually
Yeah, so I'm doing all I can to get ready for Christmas:
- send Christmas cards check
- finish Christmas shopping check
- staff Christmas party check
- tickets bought & bags packed almost checked
- finalizing all visiting plans check
- eating green bean casserole, pumpkin pie, etc. check
- letting a pointsettia die on my desk check
- listening to hours of Christmas songs every day check
- wearing my jingle bell earrings, which honestly scare me if I move too quickly check
- watching sermon from the states on the internet to "prepare" me for Christ's birth check
NOT WORKING!
yeah, so it's chilly here and all, but come on! It's still like 60 degrees every day! The leaves never fall, it doesn't even rain this time of year. It feels like September. Like eternal September. Like no matter what I do, I'm living in a freakin' Mexican version of Groundhog Day, where every day is exactly like the one before.
I need a good, cold, Michigan kick-in-the-pants to get ready for this holiday season!
- send Christmas cards check
- finish Christmas shopping check
- staff Christmas party check
- tickets bought & bags packed almost checked
- finalizing all visiting plans check
- eating green bean casserole, pumpkin pie, etc. check
- letting a pointsettia die on my desk check
- listening to hours of Christmas songs every day check
- wearing my jingle bell earrings, which honestly scare me if I move too quickly check
- watching sermon from the states on the internet to "prepare" me for Christ's birth check
NOT WORKING!
yeah, so it's chilly here and all, but come on! It's still like 60 degrees every day! The leaves never fall, it doesn't even rain this time of year. It feels like September. Like eternal September. Like no matter what I do, I'm living in a freakin' Mexican version of Groundhog Day, where every day is exactly like the one before.
I need a good, cold, Michigan kick-in-the-pants to get ready for this holiday season!
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Reading
Most high school librarians have to deal with a group we call "reluctant readers". These are kids who can read, sometimes very well, but choose not to read recreationally. Some choose not to even complete assigned reading. Of course, it's super tough for librarians and literature teachers and other bibliofiles to comprehend this, because reading is one of our favorite activities! It's kind of like the PE teacher trying to get me to care about basketball.
I'm not sure, but it's likely that I have a higher percentage of "reluctant" readers than most.
2 reasons:
1. My students speak 2 or 3 languages. Merely being able to spell in all of them is very difficult. Getting to the point where they can read on grade level in any of the languages is difficult. Choosing which language to read in is even more difficult.
2. For those of my students whose primary language is not Spanish, they have limited access to reading material of any kind. So Korean becomes the language of their parents and English becomes the language of homework, and Spanish becomes the language of friends. None of those activities involves a lot of reading.
But right now, guess what? We'd probably win the award for the highest number of students choosing to read. And they're all reading the same thing:
TWILIGHT
Some of my kids have never finished a book in any language. But they're picking up Twilight and reading it, cover to cover, as fast as they can. And they're coming in every day to tell me how many pages they've read (it's become bragging rights) and to talk about parts of the book. I've never connected with teens on this kind of literary level before. It's amazing. Of my 20 HS students, at least 10 of them are either reading the book right now, just finished the book, or want to read it over Christmas. (An additional 2 or 3 are listening to it on their Ipod, bc reading is still too tough for them or they couldn't find an English copy of the book.) Two other teachers are reading the books, too.
This is insanity!
Thanks Stephanie Meyer!
I'm not sure, but it's likely that I have a higher percentage of "reluctant" readers than most.
2 reasons:
1. My students speak 2 or 3 languages. Merely being able to spell in all of them is very difficult. Getting to the point where they can read on grade level in any of the languages is difficult. Choosing which language to read in is even more difficult.
2. For those of my students whose primary language is not Spanish, they have limited access to reading material of any kind. So Korean becomes the language of their parents and English becomes the language of homework, and Spanish becomes the language of friends. None of those activities involves a lot of reading.
But right now, guess what? We'd probably win the award for the highest number of students choosing to read. And they're all reading the same thing:
TWILIGHT
Some of my kids have never finished a book in any language. But they're picking up Twilight and reading it, cover to cover, as fast as they can. And they're coming in every day to tell me how many pages they've read (it's become bragging rights) and to talk about parts of the book. I've never connected with teens on this kind of literary level before. It's amazing. Of my 20 HS students, at least 10 of them are either reading the book right now, just finished the book, or want to read it over Christmas. (An additional 2 or 3 are listening to it on their Ipod, bc reading is still too tough for them or they couldn't find an English copy of the book.) Two other teachers are reading the books, too.
This is insanity!
Thanks Stephanie Meyer!
Monday, December 1, 2008
Coming home
I'm not sure if I've written this before...
For two weeks before Thanksgiving, our friends and acquaintances were asking us if we were going "home" for the holiday. Well, we weren't going to our house, but I do think we went "home". We got to see family and friends, and spend a long weekend being very American. In many ways, it was a trip home.
But then, as we were packing Sunday morning, I mentioned - in my head or out loud - about how we would be "home" in just a few hours.
So, did we go home or leave home for Thanksgiving?
Less than 2 weeks from now, we'll be flying again. Although, whether we're going "home" this time is still unclear. :) We are going "back" to "our" house, albeit a house filled with people and things that are not our own. And after 3 weeks of that, we'll travel "home" again.
Maybe "home" is where your story begins. And our story begins - wherever!
For two weeks before Thanksgiving, our friends and acquaintances were asking us if we were going "home" for the holiday. Well, we weren't going to our house, but I do think we went "home". We got to see family and friends, and spend a long weekend being very American. In many ways, it was a trip home.
But then, as we were packing Sunday morning, I mentioned - in my head or out loud - about how we would be "home" in just a few hours.
So, did we go home or leave home for Thanksgiving?
Less than 2 weeks from now, we'll be flying again. Although, whether we're going "home" this time is still unclear. :) We are going "back" to "our" house, albeit a house filled with people and things that are not our own. And after 3 weeks of that, we'll travel "home" again.
Maybe "home" is where your story begins. And our story begins - wherever!
Thursday, November 27, 2008
what surprised me most
So, my sister-in-law asked me today, "what's surprised you most about Mexico?"
Very intriguing question.
1. how very nice the people are. Latinos who come to the US, whether to visit or to live, are basically met with total contempt. Not from everyone, but plenty of "americans" scoff at their accent, their style, their skin color, etc. Few of us will go out of our way to help them, no matter how lost they are. While we are constanly under scrutiny in Mexico (everyone stares at us when we talk, when we walk by even) almost everyone is nice to us. They'll slow down their spanish, use "sign" language, and even try to talk in English. They smile, and politely show or explain things we don't understand. We absolutely fell in love with Mexico because of the people.
2. How comfortable we are there. Yes, the weather is nice, and so are the people, but mainly the lifestyle is great. We can be 15 minutes late, routinely, and it's not a life crisis. We can still shop at Costco, and at the mall, and not come home broke. We can eat fresh mangoes and advocados every day if we want. We have our house and our car cleaned weekly, and we don't even have to pump our own gas.
But the most intriguing thing -
3. Our perception of money has changed. Americans are all about how much stuff we can get for out dollar. Black friday exemplifies that attitude. (a free mp3 player? a $200 laptop? $10 casmere sweater?) We don't really care if that stuff was made in a foreign country by lax standards or if a teenager was up at 3am to sell it to us or if it's even something we actually need. We just want it bc we can have it. Mexicans are not about stuff. They're about lifestyle. They own a cashmere sweater bc that sweater is better than a cable sweater. They pay to have their car cleaned every week bc taking care of something is part of the price. They'd rather have a clean home than a cluttered home, so they spend money each week on a housekeeper rather than on chinese-made homegoods. Overall, they consider it their personal responsibility to work for their money, and that once they have earned that money to spend it responsibility. That means no credit card debt, low house and car debt, no student loans. It means paying people to do service jobs for you rather than hand out welfare. It means that empowering your neighbor is a better use of your funds than empowering an indian slaveworker. Hopefully we can embrace a saner attitude towards money when we return.
Very intriguing question.
1. how very nice the people are. Latinos who come to the US, whether to visit or to live, are basically met with total contempt. Not from everyone, but plenty of "americans" scoff at their accent, their style, their skin color, etc. Few of us will go out of our way to help them, no matter how lost they are. While we are constanly under scrutiny in Mexico (everyone stares at us when we talk, when we walk by even) almost everyone is nice to us. They'll slow down their spanish, use "sign" language, and even try to talk in English. They smile, and politely show or explain things we don't understand. We absolutely fell in love with Mexico because of the people.
2. How comfortable we are there. Yes, the weather is nice, and so are the people, but mainly the lifestyle is great. We can be 15 minutes late, routinely, and it's not a life crisis. We can still shop at Costco, and at the mall, and not come home broke. We can eat fresh mangoes and advocados every day if we want. We have our house and our car cleaned weekly, and we don't even have to pump our own gas.
But the most intriguing thing -
3. Our perception of money has changed. Americans are all about how much stuff we can get for out dollar. Black friday exemplifies that attitude. (a free mp3 player? a $200 laptop? $10 casmere sweater?) We don't really care if that stuff was made in a foreign country by lax standards or if a teenager was up at 3am to sell it to us or if it's even something we actually need. We just want it bc we can have it. Mexicans are not about stuff. They're about lifestyle. They own a cashmere sweater bc that sweater is better than a cable sweater. They pay to have their car cleaned every week bc taking care of something is part of the price. They'd rather have a clean home than a cluttered home, so they spend money each week on a housekeeper rather than on chinese-made homegoods. Overall, they consider it their personal responsibility to work for their money, and that once they have earned that money to spend it responsibility. That means no credit card debt, low house and car debt, no student loans. It means paying people to do service jobs for you rather than hand out welfare. It means that empowering your neighbor is a better use of your funds than empowering an indian slaveworker. Hopefully we can embrace a saner attitude towards money when we return.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
first impressions
ok, so this didn't really happen to me. It's really Dave's story. But I'm stealing it.
This week, Dave was elected "baby-sitter"/ host to a small group of North Americans coming to Toluca for a business trip at Nissan. Basically, the North Americans are so annoying that the Mexicans got sick of taking care of them and elected Dave to do it. Plus, Dave's the boss, so he gets to do dirty jobs like that. His responsibilities included:
1. borrow minivan from Nissan and pick up co-workers at airport, drive them to and from work, hotel, restaurants, and all other locations necessary so that they don't have to spend any time in a bus or a taxi.
2. Provide lots of exposure to "mexican" food, like tequila and tacos. Also ensure that all food and beverages will not cause illness.
3. Translate everything bc they literally couldn't order at Taco Bell if you paid them a million pesos.
But on the way back to the airport, after spending 4 days in Mexico, the silent American finally speaks up, as if he has something he's really been wanting to say and finally worked up the nerve to say it:
"Dave, Mexico's basically a s***hole"
Nice.
We've heard comments like this before, normally more polite, kinda mentioned after the american in question has been here for a while and hasn't heard our complaints, so finally realizes that they may have to give us an opening in the conversation to say our "true" feelings. They are always surprised that we truly don't agree with them.
I feel safer walking downtown toluca at night than I would walking downtown Flint. Detroit, with it's burnt out boarded up houses and street homeless, is dirtier and junkier than most of Mexico City. Rural America is full of people living in drafty trailers with beat-up pickup trucks. But most Americans who aren't poor can avoid the poverty of America, and forget that it's there.
Sure, mexico has more poverty than the US, but they have less homeless. Everyone here has a family, or a friend, or a little shack. When huge swaths of the country are surviving on beans and tortillas, it doesn't seem so embarassing to admit. And rich Mexicans, of which there are plenty, live like rich North Americans - in all ways but one. They shop at Costco, send their kids to private schools, listen to their Ipods, take vacations to cancun. But they don't avoid poverty. They live right next to it. They embrace it - not as someone else's problem, or a "cause" that they can help. But rich mexicans know that but for the grace of god, they would be living in a shack, too. And so they embrace poverty as a group problem. Letting your neighbor live like that is like giving your son a snake when he asks for bread (is that in the bible?). So they're much more likely to share their bounty with others - buying something from a street vendor, hiring a housekeeper, donating to charities, etc.
Thankfully, Dave's a man of actions, not words. bc the nice lecture I just gave would have been lost on his co-worker. Instead, Dave smiled to himself, and took a "detour" through Mexico City. (They guys had no idea) They drove by the embassies, the statue of independence, chapultepec park, and the neighborhoods of polanco and reforma - past multimillion dollar gated homes, before stopping at a starbucks in the car dealer neighborhood - BMW, Volvo, Hummer, & Bently can be seen from the starbucks patio - where every employee speaks perfectly un-accented English.
Sipping their $6 lattes back in the van, the guy(s) admitted:
"Well, this part of town isn't too bad."
yep, we thought so, too.
This week, Dave was elected "baby-sitter"/ host to a small group of North Americans coming to Toluca for a business trip at Nissan. Basically, the North Americans are so annoying that the Mexicans got sick of taking care of them and elected Dave to do it. Plus, Dave's the boss, so he gets to do dirty jobs like that. His responsibilities included:
1. borrow minivan from Nissan and pick up co-workers at airport, drive them to and from work, hotel, restaurants, and all other locations necessary so that they don't have to spend any time in a bus or a taxi.
2. Provide lots of exposure to "mexican" food, like tequila and tacos. Also ensure that all food and beverages will not cause illness.
3. Translate everything bc they literally couldn't order at Taco Bell if you paid them a million pesos.
But on the way back to the airport, after spending 4 days in Mexico, the silent American finally speaks up, as if he has something he's really been wanting to say and finally worked up the nerve to say it:
"Dave, Mexico's basically a s***hole"
Nice.
We've heard comments like this before, normally more polite, kinda mentioned after the american in question has been here for a while and hasn't heard our complaints, so finally realizes that they may have to give us an opening in the conversation to say our "true" feelings. They are always surprised that we truly don't agree with them.
I feel safer walking downtown toluca at night than I would walking downtown Flint. Detroit, with it's burnt out boarded up houses and street homeless, is dirtier and junkier than most of Mexico City. Rural America is full of people living in drafty trailers with beat-up pickup trucks. But most Americans who aren't poor can avoid the poverty of America, and forget that it's there.
Sure, mexico has more poverty than the US, but they have less homeless. Everyone here has a family, or a friend, or a little shack. When huge swaths of the country are surviving on beans and tortillas, it doesn't seem so embarassing to admit. And rich Mexicans, of which there are plenty, live like rich North Americans - in all ways but one. They shop at Costco, send their kids to private schools, listen to their Ipods, take vacations to cancun. But they don't avoid poverty. They live right next to it. They embrace it - not as someone else's problem, or a "cause" that they can help. But rich mexicans know that but for the grace of god, they would be living in a shack, too. And so they embrace poverty as a group problem. Letting your neighbor live like that is like giving your son a snake when he asks for bread (is that in the bible?). So they're much more likely to share their bounty with others - buying something from a street vendor, hiring a housekeeper, donating to charities, etc.
Thankfully, Dave's a man of actions, not words. bc the nice lecture I just gave would have been lost on his co-worker. Instead, Dave smiled to himself, and took a "detour" through Mexico City. (They guys had no idea) They drove by the embassies, the statue of independence, chapultepec park, and the neighborhoods of polanco and reforma - past multimillion dollar gated homes, before stopping at a starbucks in the car dealer neighborhood - BMW, Volvo, Hummer, & Bently can be seen from the starbucks patio - where every employee speaks perfectly un-accented English.
Sipping their $6 lattes back in the van, the guy(s) admitted:
"Well, this part of town isn't too bad."
yep, we thought so, too.
Friday, November 21, 2008
whoo-hoo!
I went out to dinner last night with Dave & some of his co-workers: 2 mexicans and 3 americans. (the americans are really annoying, so dave got nominated to baby-sit them) After hearing me talk with the waiter, the two mexicans exchanged a look and then told me my accent is much better! And so is my spanish! Whoo-hoo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Very thrilled.
(a few months ago, I was constantly being mocked for sounding spanish, or argintinian, or french. Ah. Now I'm just a pathetic american trying her best. Much more authentic.)
(a few months ago, I was constantly being mocked for sounding spanish, or argintinian, or french. Ah. Now I'm just a pathetic american trying her best. Much more authentic.)
Thursday, November 20, 2008
language
Every language has its idiosyncracies, which make it really interesting, and which help a culture to define its own point of view.
Examples:
In English, we "get" a lot of things, supposedly by fate or God's will or something, bc our phrases don't make it sound like it's our fault at all:
"get pregnant" "get sick" "get in an accident" "get fat" "get a good night's sleep"
On the other hand, English does often make us take responsibility for our own actions, even if they're not our fault:
"I lost my keys" "I forgot my homework" "I broke my legs in the accident"
In Spanish, they have an entire grammatical form dedicated to avoiding responsibility (this is the basic Eng. translation of some common phrases):
"The keys lost me" "The homework got left behind" "the legs got broken in the accident"
So imagine my surprise to learn today that some of the phrases that in English imply certain things aren't my fault, are definitely my fault in Spanish:
"I've fattened myself" "I sicked myself" "I pregnanted myself"
So aparently, in Spanish, it's not my fault if I drop the donut, or forget the donuts, but if I eat the donuts & gain weight - that's definitely all my fault!
Examples:
In English, we "get" a lot of things, supposedly by fate or God's will or something, bc our phrases don't make it sound like it's our fault at all:
"get pregnant" "get sick" "get in an accident" "get fat" "get a good night's sleep"
On the other hand, English does often make us take responsibility for our own actions, even if they're not our fault:
"I lost my keys" "I forgot my homework" "I broke my legs in the accident"
In Spanish, they have an entire grammatical form dedicated to avoiding responsibility (this is the basic Eng. translation of some common phrases):
"The keys lost me" "The homework got left behind" "the legs got broken in the accident"
So imagine my surprise to learn today that some of the phrases that in English imply certain things aren't my fault, are definitely my fault in Spanish:
"I've fattened myself" "I sicked myself" "I pregnanted myself"
So aparently, in Spanish, it's not my fault if I drop the donut, or forget the donuts, but if I eat the donuts & gain weight - that's definitely all my fault!
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Christmas Shopping
We've been following MI news ardently the last few weeks, trying to see what will happen with the auto industry. I was actually interviewed for a story on NPR (really exciting!) but wasn't quoted in the final story. No matter what happens, we're pretty sure the economy, in MI anyway, will get worse before it gets better.
So we were talking - will the Black Friday shopping be bigger or smaller than normal? Will people buy less bc they have a smaller budget? Or will the lines be longer bc the sales are bigger? Will there be more sales? Or will the sales be less intriguing, due to the sales that are already happening?
Either way - we're ready. We'll be in line at 4am, waving pesos & dollars, ready to gorge ourselves on good ol' fashioned US consumerism.
So we were talking - will the Black Friday shopping be bigger or smaller than normal? Will people buy less bc they have a smaller budget? Or will the lines be longer bc the sales are bigger? Will there be more sales? Or will the sales be less intriguing, due to the sales that are already happening?
Either way - we're ready. We'll be in line at 4am, waving pesos & dollars, ready to gorge ourselves on good ol' fashioned US consumerism.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Home Sweet Home
The cold air hit me as soon as I stepped off the plane. Yes, the chilly gust felt like MI, but it also smelled like MI. Like brown leaves and wet dirt. Like cars running and hamburgers grilling. Ahhhh.
It's been too long since I'd been home - over 4 months.
It was strange to overhear and understand nearly all the conversations around me. In fact, it was kind of annoying how loudly some people were talking. I hadn't realized, until then, how much background noise my brain had simply been ignoring. It was strange to sit and stand next to people without striking up a small talk conversation. In fact, it was kind of annoying how rude some yankees are! I mean, I could finally carry on my half of the conversation without sounding infantile, and no one wanted to talk with me! It was strange to have space between cars and enough time to accellerate. It was strange to turn on the radio and understand what was being said. It was wierd to see someone else's stuff in my bathroom, and in my fridge.
It was striking how much I'd missed. I didn't know all the songs on the radio or all the ads on the side of the road. I hadn't realized all the leaves were off the trees and on the ground. I'd missed election chit-chat and halloween candy. We'd collected mail from July; messages that no longer really applied.
But mostly, it was great. It was great to see my kids and give them hugs and take their pictures and laugh at their jokes. Even though it was hard to see them do a play without my help, it was kinda great to see (at least imho) how much we had made a difference in the drama department and a few kids' lives. It was great to see my family's faces and their new houses. It was great to give giant hugs and really meet my new niece. It was fantastic to collect new library books and new clothes and more makeup and pickles and hairspray and supplies for the library and canned pumpkin.
And it was very strange to come home again, to say good-bye again, to call this country, this house "home". It was wierd to sleep alone on the plane and think again about lesson plans and worry about traffic.
The vacation was too short, but I'm still glad I went. It's hard to see what I'm missing, but also great to remind myself of what I have to return to.
It's been too long since I'd been home - over 4 months.
It was strange to overhear and understand nearly all the conversations around me. In fact, it was kind of annoying how loudly some people were talking. I hadn't realized, until then, how much background noise my brain had simply been ignoring. It was strange to sit and stand next to people without striking up a small talk conversation. In fact, it was kind of annoying how rude some yankees are! I mean, I could finally carry on my half of the conversation without sounding infantile, and no one wanted to talk with me! It was strange to have space between cars and enough time to accellerate. It was strange to turn on the radio and understand what was being said. It was wierd to see someone else's stuff in my bathroom, and in my fridge.
It was striking how much I'd missed. I didn't know all the songs on the radio or all the ads on the side of the road. I hadn't realized all the leaves were off the trees and on the ground. I'd missed election chit-chat and halloween candy. We'd collected mail from July; messages that no longer really applied.
But mostly, it was great. It was great to see my kids and give them hugs and take their pictures and laugh at their jokes. Even though it was hard to see them do a play without my help, it was kinda great to see (at least imho) how much we had made a difference in the drama department and a few kids' lives. It was great to see my family's faces and their new houses. It was great to give giant hugs and really meet my new niece. It was fantastic to collect new library books and new clothes and more makeup and pickles and hairspray and supplies for the library and canned pumpkin.
And it was very strange to come home again, to say good-bye again, to call this country, this house "home". It was wierd to sleep alone on the plane and think again about lesson plans and worry about traffic.
The vacation was too short, but I'm still glad I went. It's hard to see what I'm missing, but also great to remind myself of what I have to return to.
Proud to be an American
Last week was the election, and we got to go to an amazing party downtown, sponsored by the embassy. It was non-political, officially, and there did seem to be people there who supported both major candidates. I was actually surprised at how many Mexicans were there! Aparantly, there is great interest in the US election process, not only the final candidate (at least among college-educated mexicans.)
In Mexico, every citizen has a national ID card, that is used to prove citizenship and voter identification. All mexicans must carry this at all times, and must present it when asked. They can use this to get on domestic flights, to get a job, to register legal documets, etc. This is NOT a driver's license, and citizens can take this card with them, even if they move from state to state. Thus, all of the federal elections are run by the federal government and anyone can vote anywhere in the country as long as they show their voter ID card. This allows people to vote near work or home, or even on vacation. And, the federal elections are basically just popular votes - whoever gets the most votes wins.
Compare this to the US elections - 18 mo. ago we had nearly 20 major candidates, who duked it out for superiority within their own party. Then, we had 6 mo. of fighting between two major candidates. The winner was the one who most effectively "got out the vote". Thousands of absentee voter ballots were not counted. Up to 25% of US citizens who tried to vote had trouble doing so bc they could not provide acurate ID to match their name on the voter rolls. People stood in line for hours, despite a polling center blocks away that may have had no line.
Don't even get me started on the electoral college!
In the end, though, I was shouting "Yes, We Can! Si, se puede!" at the top of my lungs and humming "God Bless the USA" for a few days.
In Mexico, every citizen has a national ID card, that is used to prove citizenship and voter identification. All mexicans must carry this at all times, and must present it when asked. They can use this to get on domestic flights, to get a job, to register legal documets, etc. This is NOT a driver's license, and citizens can take this card with them, even if they move from state to state. Thus, all of the federal elections are run by the federal government and anyone can vote anywhere in the country as long as they show their voter ID card. This allows people to vote near work or home, or even on vacation. And, the federal elections are basically just popular votes - whoever gets the most votes wins.
Compare this to the US elections - 18 mo. ago we had nearly 20 major candidates, who duked it out for superiority within their own party. Then, we had 6 mo. of fighting between two major candidates. The winner was the one who most effectively "got out the vote". Thousands of absentee voter ballots were not counted. Up to 25% of US citizens who tried to vote had trouble doing so bc they could not provide acurate ID to match their name on the voter rolls. People stood in line for hours, despite a polling center blocks away that may have had no line.
Don't even get me started on the electoral college!
In the end, though, I was shouting "Yes, We Can! Si, se puede!" at the top of my lungs and humming "God Bless the USA" for a few days.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
update
yeah, so we're up to 3 people who've asked me if I'm pregnant. The main reasons this is a concern (again, couldn't make this up if I tried):
I've been sick for a week with flu-like symptoms
I'm wearing clothes that are loose around my abdomen
I'm married
I'm 27
No joke, these are the only reasons.
My attempt to diffuse the questions has aparantly also led to the belief that I can't have children, i.e. either Dave or I are infertile. And my refusal to be on any sort of prayer list for this is causing great concern.
Oh, my.
I've been sick for a week with flu-like symptoms
I'm wearing clothes that are loose around my abdomen
I'm married
I'm 27
No joke, these are the only reasons.
My attempt to diffuse the questions has aparantly also led to the belief that I can't have children, i.e. either Dave or I are infertile. And my refusal to be on any sort of prayer list for this is causing great concern.
Oh, my.
Embassy
I sort of had the idea that while we were living abroad, any and all issues I had could be solved by the embassy. Maybe only as quickly and efficiently as back home (which, granted, is neither quick nor efficient), but still.
Nope.
A comedy of errors meant that our paper ballots were in danger of not making it back to the states on time. (We did fill out a federal write-in ballot, specifically created to close the loopholes that make it so hard for overseas voters to vote.) So, last week I was driving, frantically, to the embassy, to try and get the ballots into the official US mail system. After two hours of driving, getting lost, getting turned around, finding a parking space, walking 1/4 mile, and staring down a few security guards, I find out that the embassy closes at 5:30. There is no possible way for me to get those ballots into the building. I can't enter, and bc it's a federal crime for anyone else to even touch my ballot, no one who works there will volunteer to take it in for me.
No joke.
The entire block was heavily secured. I probably could have illegally stopped my car in the middle of the street, left the keys in the ignition, with the door wide open and my wallet on the seat, carrying my cell phone and saunter naked up to the embassy doors, and I would have been safe. No one would have dared to touch me. But I couldn't get into my own embassy after hours.
So let me get this straight - the embassy is open during business hours? They can only help me if I have an emergency between 9:30 am and 5:30 pm M-F, excluding US and MX bank holidays? What if I get mugged? kidnapped? raped? falsely arrested? These are not unusual circumstances for Americans in Mexico (very rare in the area we live, though, don't worry!) but I'm aparantly supposed to wait until business hours to get some help.
God Bless the USA.
Nope.
A comedy of errors meant that our paper ballots were in danger of not making it back to the states on time. (We did fill out a federal write-in ballot, specifically created to close the loopholes that make it so hard for overseas voters to vote.) So, last week I was driving, frantically, to the embassy, to try and get the ballots into the official US mail system. After two hours of driving, getting lost, getting turned around, finding a parking space, walking 1/4 mile, and staring down a few security guards, I find out that the embassy closes at 5:30. There is no possible way for me to get those ballots into the building. I can't enter, and bc it's a federal crime for anyone else to even touch my ballot, no one who works there will volunteer to take it in for me.
No joke.
The entire block was heavily secured. I probably could have illegally stopped my car in the middle of the street, left the keys in the ignition, with the door wide open and my wallet on the seat, carrying my cell phone and saunter naked up to the embassy doors, and I would have been safe. No one would have dared to touch me. But I couldn't get into my own embassy after hours.
So let me get this straight - the embassy is open during business hours? They can only help me if I have an emergency between 9:30 am and 5:30 pm M-F, excluding US and MX bank holidays? What if I get mugged? kidnapped? raped? falsely arrested? These are not unusual circumstances for Americans in Mexico (very rare in the area we live, though, don't worry!) but I'm aparantly supposed to wait until business hours to get some help.
God Bless the USA.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Nissan Comments
We get a lot of comments about Nissan. Mainly, bc small talk always involves why we are here, in Mexico, which of course is bc of Nissan. But also, bc Nissan is the number 2 car company here in MX, so we're about as popular as if Germans came to Detroit to work for BMW or something.
The following are all real comments. Again, I couldn't make this up if I tried.
"I like Nissans. I never feel like I'm about to be kidnapped when I'm driving one" - said by a little old lady at church.
"You let her take your car??!!" - asked incredulously by Dave's coworkers (it's very against latino machismo to loan your car to your woman - but not nearly as bad as loaning either your woman or your car to someone else...)
"I'm not sure you should be driving such a big car" - told to me in Spanish, and in English, about our Nissan Altima, which is aparantly more than this lil' lady can handle.
"The car you're driving now is a lot nicer than the cars you tell us stories about, Ms. Kelly" - from a student after hearing about the cars I drove in HS & college
"Don't worry - I'll have another small used one when I go home" I assured him
The following are all real comments. Again, I couldn't make this up if I tried.
"I like Nissans. I never feel like I'm about to be kidnapped when I'm driving one" - said by a little old lady at church.
"You let her take your car??!!" - asked incredulously by Dave's coworkers (it's very against latino machismo to loan your car to your woman - but not nearly as bad as loaning either your woman or your car to someone else...)
"I'm not sure you should be driving such a big car" - told to me in Spanish, and in English, about our Nissan Altima, which is aparantly more than this lil' lady can handle.
"The car you're driving now is a lot nicer than the cars you tell us stories about, Ms. Kelly" - from a student after hearing about the cars I drove in HS & college
"Don't worry - I'll have another small used one when I go home" I assured him
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Real Sick Day
This week, I really was sick. As in, I slept on the bathroom floor Monday night. And I didn't walk more than 5 feet all day Tuesday. And I didn't eat any substantial food until Friday morning. Argh.
Bonus - I did lose 5 pounds in 36 hours. Which means that I need the stomach flu before any major event where I need to wear a nice dress.
Unfortunately, 2 sick days in 2 weeks caused some gossip at work. Which really shocked me. I'm living in a country where most Americans are afraid to drink the water, not to mention actually LIVE here, eating and drinking multiple times each day. So one would think that a little illness would be believable, even acceptable. Oh, no, I was SO wrong!
I had forgotten two things:
1. Mexicans ask really personal questions.
2. Good baptist women are supposed to have as many babies as possible, as soon as possible.
Neither of these things was in the front of my mind on Wednesday, when I was definitely still too sick to work, but too bored to stay home. So, imagine my surprise at the copy machine when a fellow teacher - the director's wife - asks me, none too softly:
"Since you're married, could you be pregnant?"
OH MY GOD YOU DID NOT JUST ASK ME THAT QUESTION!
It was a good thing I was sick. My mind was too ill to remember what horrors I would normally explode onto a person who asked me that question.
"Um, no." i was hoping to answer with more suave grace, but oh, well. "not at all"
Instead of apologizing, letting the question drop, sharing sympathy for my stomach flu, or anything else nice, she continues with not one, not two, but THREE more stories:
- a slightly modified explation of the birds& the bees, accounting for my possible ignorance of the effects of antibiotics on birth control's effectiveness
- a story about her one infertile friend who cried each time she got her period for years but then "miraculously" got pregnant
and finally,
- a detailed description of her own high-risk pregnancy, including medical interventions that may be impossible to receive in a developing country.
I COULD NOT MAKE THIS UP IF I TRIED!
Not only did she imply that I did not understand my own medical history, but also that I may not understand the basic concepts of reproduction after nearly 5 years of marriage. Not only did she consider the fact that I may be infertile, but wanted to bring this up in front of another teacher and then imply that a miracle could happen at any time. Not only did she share a pregnancy story with a woman who just explained that she's NOT pregnant, but she insisted on highlighting everything that could go wrong with a pregnancy, just in case I wasn't worried about that while living abroad.
Nice.
Bonus - I did lose 5 pounds in 36 hours. Which means that I need the stomach flu before any major event where I need to wear a nice dress.
Unfortunately, 2 sick days in 2 weeks caused some gossip at work. Which really shocked me. I'm living in a country where most Americans are afraid to drink the water, not to mention actually LIVE here, eating and drinking multiple times each day. So one would think that a little illness would be believable, even acceptable. Oh, no, I was SO wrong!
I had forgotten two things:
1. Mexicans ask really personal questions.
2. Good baptist women are supposed to have as many babies as possible, as soon as possible.
Neither of these things was in the front of my mind on Wednesday, when I was definitely still too sick to work, but too bored to stay home. So, imagine my surprise at the copy machine when a fellow teacher - the director's wife - asks me, none too softly:
"Since you're married, could you be pregnant?"
OH MY GOD YOU DID NOT JUST ASK ME THAT QUESTION!
It was a good thing I was sick. My mind was too ill to remember what horrors I would normally explode onto a person who asked me that question.
"Um, no." i was hoping to answer with more suave grace, but oh, well. "not at all"
Instead of apologizing, letting the question drop, sharing sympathy for my stomach flu, or anything else nice, she continues with not one, not two, but THREE more stories:
- a slightly modified explation of the birds& the bees, accounting for my possible ignorance of the effects of antibiotics on birth control's effectiveness
- a story about her one infertile friend who cried each time she got her period for years but then "miraculously" got pregnant
and finally,
- a detailed description of her own high-risk pregnancy, including medical interventions that may be impossible to receive in a developing country.
I COULD NOT MAKE THIS UP IF I TRIED!
Not only did she imply that I did not understand my own medical history, but also that I may not understand the basic concepts of reproduction after nearly 5 years of marriage. Not only did she consider the fact that I may be infertile, but wanted to bring this up in front of another teacher and then imply that a miracle could happen at any time. Not only did she share a pregnancy story with a woman who just explained that she's NOT pregnant, but she insisted on highlighting everything that could go wrong with a pregnancy, just in case I wasn't worried about that while living abroad.
Nice.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Sick Day
I had a mental health day yesterday, and a lot of extra time to catch up on errands, which really meant a lot of time to SHOP!
Back in the US, this would have meant hours of browsing through the racks at Target, and Borders, and Jo-Ann's, etc... until I had either emptied my wallet or ran out of time or both. Then, a few days later, I'd regret all the shopping, because now I had more stuff than I needed and less money than I wanted. *sigh*
But guess what??!! Even with a whole day at my disposal, and plenty of excuses to shop at Costco and the Mall (and online), I only got the things on my list! I wasn't even tempted to wander through aisles of things that I don't need.
After 3 months living out of suitcases, and 6 months of not finding the sizes or styles or items I want, I've kind of given up. I didn't really need anything new. I wear about the same 10 outfits over and over. Our house looks great, without lots of added knick-knacks. We can't carry home heavy gifts for friends and family. I've borrowed print and audio books from the library, and I can't find any in English here anyway.
I hope that 18 more months here can officially wean my shopping addiction, and it's not just a passing phase. :)
Back in the US, this would have meant hours of browsing through the racks at Target, and Borders, and Jo-Ann's, etc... until I had either emptied my wallet or ran out of time or both. Then, a few days later, I'd regret all the shopping, because now I had more stuff than I needed and less money than I wanted. *sigh*
But guess what??!! Even with a whole day at my disposal, and plenty of excuses to shop at Costco and the Mall (and online), I only got the things on my list! I wasn't even tempted to wander through aisles of things that I don't need.
After 3 months living out of suitcases, and 6 months of not finding the sizes or styles or items I want, I've kind of given up. I didn't really need anything new. I wear about the same 10 outfits over and over. Our house looks great, without lots of added knick-knacks. We can't carry home heavy gifts for friends and family. I've borrowed print and audio books from the library, and I can't find any in English here anyway.
I hope that 18 more months here can officially wean my shopping addiction, and it's not just a passing phase. :)
traffic jam - lessons learned
Today I was stuck in traffic. As in, a 45-minute drive took 2.5 hours. I was really frustrated.
In the US, a huge traffic jam would cause serious road rage. Americans would be honking their horns, walking around screaming, throwing our fists in the air, calling the radio stations, demanding the firing of our governor or the police chief, and in general letting it ruin our day. But in Mexico, people were smiling and laughing, flirting with people in the cars next to them, listening to Mariachi music, and generally enjoying being late to work. :)
Kind of gives some perspective, doesn't it?
In the US, a huge traffic jam would cause serious road rage. Americans would be honking their horns, walking around screaming, throwing our fists in the air, calling the radio stations, demanding the firing of our governor or the police chief, and in general letting it ruin our day. But in Mexico, people were smiling and laughing, flirting with people in the cars next to them, listening to Mariachi music, and generally enjoying being late to work. :)
Kind of gives some perspective, doesn't it?
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
The Shack
Ok, if you haven't read "The Shack" by William Young, you need to read it. ASAP.
This highly controversial novel tells the story of a man consumed by grief and anger directed towards God after the brutal murder of his young daughter. Like most of us, he wonders why God allows evil to happen and why it seems like evil people cause good people so much grief. He wants God to offer grace and forgivness through Christ to good people, like his wife and kids, but not to bad people, like murderers. He can only start to understand God by developing a relationship with him. This book is the story of that relationship.
I wouldn't read this book instead of going to church or reading the bible, but it has a lot of great truths and interesting insights. I laughed, I cried, I can't stop thinking about it.
I think I'll read it again.
This highly controversial novel tells the story of a man consumed by grief and anger directed towards God after the brutal murder of his young daughter. Like most of us, he wonders why God allows evil to happen and why it seems like evil people cause good people so much grief. He wants God to offer grace and forgivness through Christ to good people, like his wife and kids, but not to bad people, like murderers. He can only start to understand God by developing a relationship with him. This book is the story of that relationship.
I wouldn't read this book instead of going to church or reading the bible, but it has a lot of great truths and interesting insights. I laughed, I cried, I can't stop thinking about it.
I think I'll read it again.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Looking Back
It’s been almost two years since Dave first mentioned to me that we could move to Mexico. That’s how he told me – we could. Not that we will or we should or we might. We could. We could move if: if we both agreed that that’s where God was leading us. We could.
So we thought and prayed and planned and hoped for almost 18 months before the move happened. By that point we were as ready as we could be.
I don’t know how other people present this opportunity to their wives or husbands, but I’m guessing not as well as David did. Because either the wives say, “absolutely not!” and they never come, or the wives say, “whatever you think, sweetie” and then come but they’re miserable, or the wives say, “great! I wanted a few years vacation from my real life.” Almost no one says what we said: “we both are moving and we both are working because this marriage is a partnership and no one wins when someone loses.”
So now, when someone has a bad day at work or when everything seems to be going wrong, or when homesickness settles in for a few days – in other words, when life isn’t perfect – there’s no one to blame. There’s no fighting. No one’s mad. We made this choice together and we’re living it together.
I don’t know of any other way to live peacefully.
So we thought and prayed and planned and hoped for almost 18 months before the move happened. By that point we were as ready as we could be.
I don’t know how other people present this opportunity to their wives or husbands, but I’m guessing not as well as David did. Because either the wives say, “absolutely not!” and they never come, or the wives say, “whatever you think, sweetie” and then come but they’re miserable, or the wives say, “great! I wanted a few years vacation from my real life.” Almost no one says what we said: “we both are moving and we both are working because this marriage is a partnership and no one wins when someone loses.”
So now, when someone has a bad day at work or when everything seems to be going wrong, or when homesickness settles in for a few days – in other words, when life isn’t perfect – there’s no one to blame. There’s no fighting. No one’s mad. We made this choice together and we’re living it together.
I don’t know of any other way to live peacefully.
Shopping Malls in Mexico
For the last 5 centuries, Mexican cities have been modeled after Spanish cities: with a central plaza consisting of an open area, normally with a park or benches or something surrounded by the most important buildings in the city - the cathedral, bank, government offices, and sometimes a rich person's house or a museum. The plaza would be like the spoke of a wheel with roads veering off in multiple directions from this plaza. In very large cities, smaller plazas throughout would be in the centers of specific neighborhoods, and house smaller churches, government buildings, etc.
Hanging out in the plaza is an important activity for Spaniards and Mexicans. In warmer climates, it's very important to mingle outside (this is very different than how northern Europeans and midwestern Americans have traditionally met with friends). So everyone would "grab the old ladies and pack up the babies" and walk throughout the plaza - where kids will play ball and old guys play checkers and couples smooch and ladies gossip and families buy ice cream, etc.
In modern Mexico, Shopping Malls are becoming the plazas of the middle and upper classes. In these places, they can do all the mingling they used to do in the plazas, but without inclement weather and beggars and such.
(I hear Wal-Mart is becoming the plazas of the lower and working classes, but I'm not sure.)
On Sunday we went to the mall near our house, which is more "American" than our US malls! It has a 2 food courts, movie theatre, ice rink, 2 coffee houses, bowling alley, casino, salons, snack bars, cell phone kiosks, very clean bathrooms, and a LOT of stores.
But unlike US malls, which are full of tweens and teens and bored husbands and housewives, this mall was hopping! Dads were carrying babies in snuglis and pushing them in strollers. Old ladies were snacking on ice cream cones and watching their grandkids ice skate. Couples were going out to a movie and then out to dinner. Entire families (sometimes 3 generations) were relaxing together, enjoying their Sunday afternoon.
Watching them did make me a little homesick for our own families. But mainly I was surprised at how much a mall shows about a culture.
In the US, malls are all about the shopping.
In Mexico, malls are all about the relationships.
Kinda made me wonder.
Hanging out in the plaza is an important activity for Spaniards and Mexicans. In warmer climates, it's very important to mingle outside (this is very different than how northern Europeans and midwestern Americans have traditionally met with friends). So everyone would "grab the old ladies and pack up the babies" and walk throughout the plaza - where kids will play ball and old guys play checkers and couples smooch and ladies gossip and families buy ice cream, etc.
In modern Mexico, Shopping Malls are becoming the plazas of the middle and upper classes. In these places, they can do all the mingling they used to do in the plazas, but without inclement weather and beggars and such.
(I hear Wal-Mart is becoming the plazas of the lower and working classes, but I'm not sure.)
On Sunday we went to the mall near our house, which is more "American" than our US malls! It has a 2 food courts, movie theatre, ice rink, 2 coffee houses, bowling alley, casino, salons, snack bars, cell phone kiosks, very clean bathrooms, and a LOT of stores.
But unlike US malls, which are full of tweens and teens and bored husbands and housewives, this mall was hopping! Dads were carrying babies in snuglis and pushing them in strollers. Old ladies were snacking on ice cream cones and watching their grandkids ice skate. Couples were going out to a movie and then out to dinner. Entire families (sometimes 3 generations) were relaxing together, enjoying their Sunday afternoon.
Watching them did make me a little homesick for our own families. But mainly I was surprised at how much a mall shows about a culture.
In the US, malls are all about the shopping.
In Mexico, malls are all about the relationships.
Kinda made me wonder.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Overheard on Cultural Day
Friday we had a special cultural day celebration at school. Oct. 12 is Columbus Day/ Native Americans Day/ Day of the Race in the Americas and Foundation Day in Korea. So we spent a half day celebrating various cultures. Here are some of the comments heard:
"Whoo-hoo!" (upon seeing their own country's flag)
"Jesus Loves Me" (in 6 languages)
"I had no idea..." (followed by a number of statements)
In my class, students looked at groups of unidentified pictures from a variety of American sub-cultures.
"OHMYGOSH! IT'S TERRORISTS!" (upon seeing muslims in Dearborn, MI)
"that looks so gross"/ "that looks delicious" (a picture of 'soul food' from Detroit)
"wait, I know this place! It's the TajMajal!" (it was a picture of a mosque in Dearborn)
"This has got to be disney world. No one really lives like this." (it was a picture of Frankenmuth, MI)
"Ms. Kelly, where's that place kinda by Denmark?" "Scandenavia?" "Yep, that's it! This is the scandenavian flag" (It was a polish flag, on a parade in Chicago)
"is that sarah palin?" (it was an eskimo family in Alaska)
"these are fortune cookies" "did you even read this, dummy? it says 'moon cakes'" "but there's a pieces of paper coming out of them!" (it was a fortune cookie)
"this must be africa. everyone's black" (it was detroit, MI)
"this is japan - that's where they wear kimonos" "no way! they have fortune cookies, definitely china" "wait - you're asian, what do you think?" (it was chinatown, san francisco)
After a half day of fun activities, we had a potluck lunch with every family bringing something to share. I was getting homemade hummus and pita bread triangles ready when the kids circled around.
"what is that?" "is it cheese"
"no, it's hummus"
"what?"
"hummus"
"what?"
"hummus. it's ground chickpeas. it's like a dip"
"is it spicy?"
"nope. they feed it to babies."
"who does?"
"it's arabic. Remember how I said that a lot of Arabs live near my house in MI? They eat this a lot, and so all of us like to eat it, too."
"where did you find it in Mexico?"
"my husband made it from scratch."
"what's that?"
"it's pita bread. in Mexico they call it pan arabe or arabic bread. it's like the bread Jesus ate."
"really?"
"yep. try a little! I bet you'll like it!"
"wow! this is really good!"
Everyone ate hummus and pita bread and absolutely loved it. Even Mr. Derek, who said, "I really liked your hammas." I wanted to point out that I did not bring a terrorist group from Lebanon, but I thought he'd miss the joke.
Overall, a really great day. :)
"Whoo-hoo!" (upon seeing their own country's flag)
"Jesus Loves Me" (in 6 languages)
"I had no idea..." (followed by a number of statements)
In my class, students looked at groups of unidentified pictures from a variety of American sub-cultures.
"OHMYGOSH! IT'S TERRORISTS!" (upon seeing muslims in Dearborn, MI)
"that looks so gross"/ "that looks delicious" (a picture of 'soul food' from Detroit)
"wait, I know this place! It's the TajMajal!" (it was a picture of a mosque in Dearborn)
"This has got to be disney world. No one really lives like this." (it was a picture of Frankenmuth, MI)
"Ms. Kelly, where's that place kinda by Denmark?" "Scandenavia?" "Yep, that's it! This is the scandenavian flag" (It was a polish flag, on a parade in Chicago)
"is that sarah palin?" (it was an eskimo family in Alaska)
"these are fortune cookies" "did you even read this, dummy? it says 'moon cakes'" "but there's a pieces of paper coming out of them!" (it was a fortune cookie)
"this must be africa. everyone's black" (it was detroit, MI)
"this is japan - that's where they wear kimonos" "no way! they have fortune cookies, definitely china" "wait - you're asian, what do you think?" (it was chinatown, san francisco)
After a half day of fun activities, we had a potluck lunch with every family bringing something to share. I was getting homemade hummus and pita bread triangles ready when the kids circled around.
"what is that?" "is it cheese"
"no, it's hummus"
"what?"
"hummus"
"what?"
"hummus. it's ground chickpeas. it's like a dip"
"is it spicy?"
"nope. they feed it to babies."
"who does?"
"it's arabic. Remember how I said that a lot of Arabs live near my house in MI? They eat this a lot, and so all of us like to eat it, too."
"where did you find it in Mexico?"
"my husband made it from scratch."
"what's that?"
"it's pita bread. in Mexico they call it pan arabe or arabic bread. it's like the bread Jesus ate."
"really?"
"yep. try a little! I bet you'll like it!"
"wow! this is really good!"
Everyone ate hummus and pita bread and absolutely loved it. Even Mr. Derek, who said, "I really liked your hammas." I wanted to point out that I did not bring a terrorist group from Lebanon, but I thought he'd miss the joke.
Overall, a really great day. :)
Thursday, October 9, 2008
princess life part two
It's always wierd to travel, bc it's so surreal. Nothing seems normal, and if you let yourself, you can forget about all of the negativity at home. And when homesickness hits hard, it's easy to forget any negatives of home, bc all the positives come swirling into your mind.
Had we traveled abroad in a less advanced time, we likely would have no idea what was happening back "home" in the US in general and in Michigan in particular. But we do know. We have high speed internet and English-language TV and phones. We know. We know that GM & Chrysler stock are freefalling, and that people are losing their homes, and that raucous election crowds are shouting insults. We know that it's a crazy time to be an American, but we can't help it.
We're still proud to be from the USA.
Only, the issues back home make it all the more surreal that anyone would choose to live here merely to take a "time-out" from their "real" lives. How can someone sit here, with live-in help, a few credit cards, and no responsibilities knowing that thousands, maybe millions, of Americans would like a job, any job? argh.
Had we traveled abroad in a less advanced time, we likely would have no idea what was happening back "home" in the US in general and in Michigan in particular. But we do know. We have high speed internet and English-language TV and phones. We know. We know that GM & Chrysler stock are freefalling, and that people are losing their homes, and that raucous election crowds are shouting insults. We know that it's a crazy time to be an American, but we can't help it.
We're still proud to be from the USA.
Only, the issues back home make it all the more surreal that anyone would choose to live here merely to take a "time-out" from their "real" lives. How can someone sit here, with live-in help, a few credit cards, and no responsibilities knowing that thousands, maybe millions, of Americans would like a job, any job? argh.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Living the Life of a Princess
My Spanish tutor is awesome. She's a mature lady (NOT old!) with grown kids, who's been living in Toluca and teaching Americans like me & Dave for years now. She's not only really patient, but makes learning really fun, while keeping really high standards for our learning.
My favorite classes are when we get off on a tangent and can just talk in Spanish for an hour or so. This gives me great practice, but also great insights into the educated Mexican mind.
Last night was one of those nights. :)
I found out that Dave & I are one of the youngest couples she's ever worked with in this capacity. She was really surprised that a 27-year old could have the kind of responsibilities that Dave has. But once she met us, she was also really surprised at how much we embraced our lives here in Mexico. Aparantly, it's relatively normal for the US executives she works with froma number of companies - to basically come down knowing no spanish and not really trying to learn any. Dave is one of the more advanced students she's had, and she says he's really improving.
Also, I'm only the 2nd wife she's EVER worked with who's actually learned spanish. Most of the wives either don't take classes at all. If they do, they don't do any homework, they only come to class once a week for an hour or so, and they don't really try to use Spanish outside their limited time with Sara.
Well, that got me going. "I shouldn't say anything..." I started, but since it's her job to listen to me speak Spanish, she gave me the go ahead :) "Why do they come?" I asked. "Why do they come to a country where they don't know the language or culture, and they don't want to learn, and they don't have a job or anything to do all day?"
"They want to live like a princess." Sara said.
I had never thought it out; never put it into words. But that's exactly what they want. For a few short years, these women want to be on a constant vacation. They have nannies and maids and drivers and money. They have no responsibilities, no concerns. Their husbands work, their employees work, their children play, and they relax. They go to the gym and the beauty parlor and the mall and the coffee shop. They watch TV all day and take long baths once the kids are in bed. They write home bragging to their friends and family about their new wonderful life.
But what about when it's over? At some point, these women have to go home! Someday, they'll need to clean a toilet and make dinner and get up early and drive the kids to school. Someday, they'll have to sit through an interview explaining what they did for 2 or 3 or 5 years while they were in Mexico. And they won't even be able to say "I learned Spanish." or "I volunteered."
I couldn't do that, I told her. I will not believe that the 2 years we're here is merely a pause from my real life. I cannot wake up every morning knowing that yesterday, today, and tomorrow don't really count for anything. I can't talk with my family and friends when I have nothing to talk about. I won't return to the United States with nothing to show for the time I've been here.
Every day is a gift. I'm too young, and life's too short to throw away even one day.
So what do I want from this experience? Everyone I know expects me to come home on every vacation, and ultimately when we move back, with a story to tell. An explanation.
When I return, I want to say that I know Spanish. Not that I taught it, or studied it, or speak it a little. I know it. I can use it.
When I return, I want to say that I saw Mexico. I want to travel to as many cities as possible and see as much of the country as possible.
When I return, I want to say that I grew in my career. I want to learn how to run a library, how to teach a subject I know nothing about.
When I return, I want to say that I helped Mexico. I want to donate my time, and my money, and my skills to make this a better place.
When I return, I want to say that I grew Spiritually. I want to rely on God more fully than before. I want to trust Him, no matter where He sends me.
There's a lot of other silly things, too. I want to write a book or two, and catch up on scrapbooking, and learn to play the piano (again). I want to read a lot, and make new friends, and learn new recipies. I want to spend time with my husband and lead mission trips and visit with my nieces & nephews.
In other words, I want to keep living.
Live each day as if it were on purpose.
My favorite classes are when we get off on a tangent and can just talk in Spanish for an hour or so. This gives me great practice, but also great insights into the educated Mexican mind.
Last night was one of those nights. :)
I found out that Dave & I are one of the youngest couples she's ever worked with in this capacity. She was really surprised that a 27-year old could have the kind of responsibilities that Dave has. But once she met us, she was also really surprised at how much we embraced our lives here in Mexico. Aparantly, it's relatively normal for the US executives she works with froma number of companies - to basically come down knowing no spanish and not really trying to learn any. Dave is one of the more advanced students she's had, and she says he's really improving.
Also, I'm only the 2nd wife she's EVER worked with who's actually learned spanish. Most of the wives either don't take classes at all. If they do, they don't do any homework, they only come to class once a week for an hour or so, and they don't really try to use Spanish outside their limited time with Sara.
Well, that got me going. "I shouldn't say anything..." I started, but since it's her job to listen to me speak Spanish, she gave me the go ahead :) "Why do they come?" I asked. "Why do they come to a country where they don't know the language or culture, and they don't want to learn, and they don't have a job or anything to do all day?"
"They want to live like a princess." Sara said.
I had never thought it out; never put it into words. But that's exactly what they want. For a few short years, these women want to be on a constant vacation. They have nannies and maids and drivers and money. They have no responsibilities, no concerns. Their husbands work, their employees work, their children play, and they relax. They go to the gym and the beauty parlor and the mall and the coffee shop. They watch TV all day and take long baths once the kids are in bed. They write home bragging to their friends and family about their new wonderful life.
But what about when it's over? At some point, these women have to go home! Someday, they'll need to clean a toilet and make dinner and get up early and drive the kids to school. Someday, they'll have to sit through an interview explaining what they did for 2 or 3 or 5 years while they were in Mexico. And they won't even be able to say "I learned Spanish." or "I volunteered."
I couldn't do that, I told her. I will not believe that the 2 years we're here is merely a pause from my real life. I cannot wake up every morning knowing that yesterday, today, and tomorrow don't really count for anything. I can't talk with my family and friends when I have nothing to talk about. I won't return to the United States with nothing to show for the time I've been here.
Every day is a gift. I'm too young, and life's too short to throw away even one day.
So what do I want from this experience? Everyone I know expects me to come home on every vacation, and ultimately when we move back, with a story to tell. An explanation.
When I return, I want to say that I know Spanish. Not that I taught it, or studied it, or speak it a little. I know it. I can use it.
When I return, I want to say that I saw Mexico. I want to travel to as many cities as possible and see as much of the country as possible.
When I return, I want to say that I grew in my career. I want to learn how to run a library, how to teach a subject I know nothing about.
When I return, I want to say that I helped Mexico. I want to donate my time, and my money, and my skills to make this a better place.
When I return, I want to say that I grew Spiritually. I want to rely on God more fully than before. I want to trust Him, no matter where He sends me.
There's a lot of other silly things, too. I want to write a book or two, and catch up on scrapbooking, and learn to play the piano (again). I want to read a lot, and make new friends, and learn new recipies. I want to spend time with my husband and lead mission trips and visit with my nieces & nephews.
In other words, I want to keep living.
Live each day as if it were on purpose.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
DF Costco
We spent the whole day in DF today: church, park, lunch, shopping. It's a long day, but worth it.
We went to Costco in DF - what a mess! There were literally more cars than spaces there. Sometimes I forget that Mexico City is the largest city on earth! But whenever I realize that, I'm so glad we don't actually live there. Craziness reigns!
But we did get ground turkey, a space heater, and organic fabric softener. Sometimes it pays to be so close to an urban metropolis. :)
We went to Costco in DF - what a mess! There were literally more cars than spaces there. Sometimes I forget that Mexico City is the largest city on earth! But whenever I realize that, I'm so glad we don't actually live there. Craziness reigns!
But we did get ground turkey, a space heater, and organic fabric softener. Sometimes it pays to be so close to an urban metropolis. :)
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Warning - Frio!
No joke, this morning the radio had a warning that went something like this: "parents, bundle up your kids! It's freezing out there, and you don't want them to get pneumonia!"
It was like mid-40s (F) this morning. It'll get up to mid 60s(F) this afternoon.
Seriously?
Turns out, that it normally doesn't get this cold until December, so they're all convinced that Global Warming actually means GLobal Cooling for Mexico.
I'm just thankful I the truck is here - and that I thought to pack some sweaters.
It was like mid-40s (F) this morning. It'll get up to mid 60s(F) this afternoon.
Seriously?
Turns out, that it normally doesn't get this cold until December, so they're all convinced that Global Warming actually means GLobal Cooling for Mexico.
I'm just thankful I the truck is here - and that I thought to pack some sweaters.
Monday, September 29, 2008
One down...
We got some bad news at school today - a teacher is leaving. Effective immediately.
I'm sorry for her students - a small elementary class - but I'm not really surprised. The school had so many vacancies to fill this year that quite a few of the new teachers have no experience and/or no education degree and/or no spanish skills and/or no international traveling experience. Bad combo. Showing up hours before the first teacher meeting, with no idea how to teach or what to teach, no idea how to live in this country, and limited resources (no curriculum, no internet) make for a bad combination.
So now I'm realizing a sharp truth - no matter how badly I feel I'm doing, no matter how crazy things get at school - leaving isnt' really a choice. Not because I can't be replaced, I can, but because the students don't understand that it's not about them. It rarely is.
I'm sorry for her students - a small elementary class - but I'm not really surprised. The school had so many vacancies to fill this year that quite a few of the new teachers have no experience and/or no education degree and/or no spanish skills and/or no international traveling experience. Bad combo. Showing up hours before the first teacher meeting, with no idea how to teach or what to teach, no idea how to live in this country, and limited resources (no curriculum, no internet) make for a bad combination.
So now I'm realizing a sharp truth - no matter how badly I feel I'm doing, no matter how crazy things get at school - leaving isnt' really a choice. Not because I can't be replaced, I can, but because the students don't understand that it's not about them. It rarely is.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Reformation, etc.
I like to think that I've become more open-minded in recent years. I thought that I was ok with a variety of biblical interpretations and Christian interpretations. I thought that I was in the "Jesus is still all right with me!" camp, and that I wanted to focus on preaching the gospel to non-believers more than infighting with other Christians.
Until I sat through Baptist chapel this morning.
Besides the poor asthetics (slow, boring music followed by long, boring sermon), I was completely shocked by the message! Our school board director spent 30 minutes reading verses from Psalms outlining how we should "fear" God. Which is a wonderful idea, except that the summary message was that we fear God by being good, making good choices, praying a lot, etc. Ok, also pretty much true. Then Santiago, bless his heart, spoke up.
"But we're just kids! we can't be perfect all the time! What if we mess up?"
Ron's answer (with a perturbed look that said he didn't want to be interrupted) was that we should just pray harder. No kidding.
Then, he gave an example of a time when his family was driving past a car accident where someone had been killed. This was an example of God's faithfulness, bc they weren't hurt. So, my thought was - did the other man not pray enough?
Also, Ron's kids are his step-kids. Their real father died of cancer. So was their 1st dad just not a good enough CHristian, so God had to kill him & replace him with a better dad?
This theology isn't inherently wrong - it's just not Christian. Muslims believe the same thing - pray harder to be good; bad things happen as a punishment for sin. Where's the Jesus? Where's the grace? What's the point of being a Christian if God only loves me as long as I am good and everything bad that happens is a punishment from him?
Until I sat through Baptist chapel this morning.
Besides the poor asthetics (slow, boring music followed by long, boring sermon), I was completely shocked by the message! Our school board director spent 30 minutes reading verses from Psalms outlining how we should "fear" God. Which is a wonderful idea, except that the summary message was that we fear God by being good, making good choices, praying a lot, etc. Ok, also pretty much true. Then Santiago, bless his heart, spoke up.
"But we're just kids! we can't be perfect all the time! What if we mess up?"
Ron's answer (with a perturbed look that said he didn't want to be interrupted) was that we should just pray harder. No kidding.
Then, he gave an example of a time when his family was driving past a car accident where someone had been killed. This was an example of God's faithfulness, bc they weren't hurt. So, my thought was - did the other man not pray enough?
Also, Ron's kids are his step-kids. Their real father died of cancer. So was their 1st dad just not a good enough CHristian, so God had to kill him & replace him with a better dad?
This theology isn't inherently wrong - it's just not Christian. Muslims believe the same thing - pray harder to be good; bad things happen as a punishment for sin. Where's the Jesus? Where's the grace? What's the point of being a Christian if God only loves me as long as I am good and everything bad that happens is a punishment from him?
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Temporary Mexicans?
All weekend, we were asked (often in 2 languages) where we were from. We always answered "Toluca" in a straight face. Which often caused a HUGE look of surprise from the person asking us. One Mexican actually said, "so you guys are Mexicans?" Which made us laugh. And made me think.
What makes us Americans? North Americans? United Statesians (which is, btw, the official Mexican term for people from the USA)? Michiganians? Mexicans?
Is it where we live or how we live? Is it what we speak or how we speak it? It it what we do or how we do it or where we do it? It it what we celebrate or how we celebrate it? Is it what we look like or what we look at? Or is it, as I'm suspecting, how we feel and who we choose to be?
I know one thing - I'm at least a little more mexican now. Because the (north) Americans were driving me crazy! (We actually overheard someone say, in English, 'why are there so many Mexicans here?' not kidding)
What makes us Americans? North Americans? United Statesians (which is, btw, the official Mexican term for people from the USA)? Michiganians? Mexicans?
Is it where we live or how we live? Is it what we speak or how we speak it? It it what we do or how we do it or where we do it? It it what we celebrate or how we celebrate it? Is it what we look like or what we look at? Or is it, as I'm suspecting, how we feel and who we choose to be?
I know one thing - I'm at least a little more mexican now. Because the (north) Americans were driving me crazy! (We actually overheard someone say, in English, 'why are there so many Mexicans here?' not kidding)
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
It's about the journey ... not the destination
Everything seems to take longer in Mexico. Especially traveling. Whether it's going to church, meeting friends, grocery shopping, taking a walk, or taking a great vacation, we always seem to spend most of our time getting somewhere.
Take Los Cabos, which we both totally loved. We were gone for 4 days, in planes and taxis, walking up to 2 hours each day for about 90 minutes swimming in the ocean and 8 minutes of parasailing. And a sunburn.
If we were only going on vacation for the highlights, we wouldn't have had such a good time. But every aspect was wonderful -
new podcasts on the plane
gorgeous ocean views from the taxi
a free upgrade to a jacuzzi room
warm sand
clear ocean water
lunch on the beach, under an umbrella, relaxing on a chaise lounge
Fresh mangoes
sleeping under the moon & stars
English church
fireworks.
So, it's really about the journey. Even when the destination is amazing.
Take Los Cabos, which we both totally loved. We were gone for 4 days, in planes and taxis, walking up to 2 hours each day for about 90 minutes swimming in the ocean and 8 minutes of parasailing. And a sunburn.
If we were only going on vacation for the highlights, we wouldn't have had such a good time. But every aspect was wonderful -
new podcasts on the plane
gorgeous ocean views from the taxi
a free upgrade to a jacuzzi room
warm sand
clear ocean water
lunch on the beach, under an umbrella, relaxing on a chaise lounge
Fresh mangoes
sleeping under the moon & stars
English church
fireworks.
So, it's really about the journey. Even when the destination is amazing.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
We're not supposed to understand?!
I started my second Spanish class this week, with a tutor from MCCA. I'm taking the class with another teacher, which I was looking forward to, bc I thought it would mean more practice in talking. Unfortunately, it wasn't nearly as good - we focused mainly on completeing grammar exercises from a textbook. I can do those in my sleep, bc they look a lot like what I've been creating, using, and grading for the last three years.
Then she said something really surprising -
"you don't understand? Good! You're not supposed to. God doesn't want us to understand each other" I'm not kidding. She went on to re-explain the tower of babel story, explaining that the reason that our languages have completely different grammatical styles and formats, not just different vocabulary, is so that it's impossible for anyone to know a lot of languages very well. Supposedly that's to keep any one group from taking over the world.
Huh.
Then she said something really surprising -
"you don't understand? Good! You're not supposed to. God doesn't want us to understand each other" I'm not kidding. She went on to re-explain the tower of babel story, explaining that the reason that our languages have completely different grammatical styles and formats, not just different vocabulary, is so that it's impossible for anyone to know a lot of languages very well. Supposedly that's to keep any one group from taking over the world.
Huh.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Working Women
I work with women now!!!!!!!!!!!
This doesn't sound like a huge deal, but it really is. In my last job, I was half of the female teaching staff. I was the youngest person there by at least 5 years, but more like an average of 15 years. The women on staff were more like mothers than friends (which is ok, except that I already have a fabulous mother and mother-in-law, so I'm not really in need of any more). And all of my bosses - department head, administration, principal, superintendent, etc. - were all men. Old men. Men who laugh at sexual harassment training. Which, btw, isn't about sex at all but is about respect.
So this year, I work with women! Almost the entire staff is women, and most of them are my age-ish. There isn't a principal, but 2/3 of the directors are women.
The 2 reasons this is really awesome:
1. Everyone "gets" it. They know what it's like to spend 30 minutes trying to look nice without looking attractive. They know how one stray hair or one nasty pimple can ruin a day. They know where to find great deals on stylish clothing. They know that when I say I want to get home for dinner that I don't mean my husband will starve without me but rather that this is my hour of the day to actually connect with my family and I don't care if we're eating cold pizza I'm only going to miss it for an actual emergency. They know that Sarah Palin isn't automatically my hero, but neither is Gloria Steinem.
2. I have friends! It was very tough to have a real conversation with my prior co-workers - we had nothing in common. We were in different life stages, with different afterschool activities, and very little teaching methods in common. I don't have much in common with these ladies, but we feel more comfortable talking, so we can share about our lives here.
Yippie!
This doesn't sound like a huge deal, but it really is. In my last job, I was half of the female teaching staff. I was the youngest person there by at least 5 years, but more like an average of 15 years. The women on staff were more like mothers than friends (which is ok, except that I already have a fabulous mother and mother-in-law, so I'm not really in need of any more). And all of my bosses - department head, administration, principal, superintendent, etc. - were all men. Old men. Men who laugh at sexual harassment training. Which, btw, isn't about sex at all but is about respect.
So this year, I work with women! Almost the entire staff is women, and most of them are my age-ish. There isn't a principal, but 2/3 of the directors are women.
The 2 reasons this is really awesome:
1. Everyone "gets" it. They know what it's like to spend 30 minutes trying to look nice without looking attractive. They know how one stray hair or one nasty pimple can ruin a day. They know where to find great deals on stylish clothing. They know that when I say I want to get home for dinner that I don't mean my husband will starve without me but rather that this is my hour of the day to actually connect with my family and I don't care if we're eating cold pizza I'm only going to miss it for an actual emergency. They know that Sarah Palin isn't automatically my hero, but neither is Gloria Steinem.
2. I have friends! It was very tough to have a real conversation with my prior co-workers - we had nothing in common. We were in different life stages, with different afterschool activities, and very little teaching methods in common. I don't have much in common with these ladies, but we feel more comfortable talking, so we can share about our lives here.
Yippie!
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Labor Day or Independence Day?
Last Monday, when all our American friends and family were enjoying the last day of summer (and theoretically supporting the labor movement by not working :), we were actually working! And next week, when those same friends are hard at work, we'll be on the beach in Los Cabos celebrating American Independence from Europe (and theoretically being independent enough to take the day off work). In the wake of US political conventions -and I watched both - this blog is a hodgepodge of thoughts about working, playing, and fighting for a better government.
Celebrating independence day with Mexico reminds me of our shared American heritage - what it's like to break free from colonial dependence, write our own constitution, spend nearly a decade fighting for that independence and another century fixing all the little problems that werent' resolved originally (US - slavery, MX - corruption) and all the while being proud to be an American. Plus, Mexico actually reads their constitution, rings their liberty bell, and has a political parade. Not just fireworks & a picnic :)
Working on Labor Day reminded me of how much our careers define us, as NorthAmericans. I wanted to work here - I asked to work, I searched for work, and I'm thrilled to work. Most of my salary is used to pay for my work related expenses! And even though I'm not exactly qualified to teach math, I'm excited to work at a school that lets me teach kids first and subjects second.
Watching the conventions between labor day and independence day reminded me of how much women have fought for independence and the right to work. (I heard a joke that the republicans nominated a woman for vp so that they could pay her 75% and save the taxpayers money!) While I'm here, I'm often reminded of how blessed I am to work. Most of the int'l women here are "kept women" stuck at home with no job, no car, no money, and a full-time housekeeper. I was happy to work on Labor Day, bc I was happy to work! And I'm happy to support a female VP, as long as she supports working women: equal pay for equal work; paid maternity leave for all workers; access to quality affordable day care, after-school care, and college tuition; and healthcare for everyone. We'll see. In the meantime, I'll just be thankful I can vote, even from far away!
Celebrating independence day with Mexico reminds me of our shared American heritage - what it's like to break free from colonial dependence, write our own constitution, spend nearly a decade fighting for that independence and another century fixing all the little problems that werent' resolved originally (US - slavery, MX - corruption) and all the while being proud to be an American. Plus, Mexico actually reads their constitution, rings their liberty bell, and has a political parade. Not just fireworks & a picnic :)
Working on Labor Day reminded me of how much our careers define us, as NorthAmericans. I wanted to work here - I asked to work, I searched for work, and I'm thrilled to work. Most of my salary is used to pay for my work related expenses! And even though I'm not exactly qualified to teach math, I'm excited to work at a school that lets me teach kids first and subjects second.
Watching the conventions between labor day and independence day reminded me of how much women have fought for independence and the right to work. (I heard a joke that the republicans nominated a woman for vp so that they could pay her 75% and save the taxpayers money!) While I'm here, I'm often reminded of how blessed I am to work. Most of the int'l women here are "kept women" stuck at home with no job, no car, no money, and a full-time housekeeper. I was happy to work on Labor Day, bc I was happy to work! And I'm happy to support a female VP, as long as she supports working women: equal pay for equal work; paid maternity leave for all workers; access to quality affordable day care, after-school care, and college tuition; and healthcare for everyone. We'll see. In the meantime, I'll just be thankful I can vote, even from far away!
Thursday, September 4, 2008
We're not leaving (yet)
We were originally planning to be on a plane home this evening, so that we could be in town for the Delta Chi 10-year weekend celebration. It's been about 2 months since we walked down the street without feeling like outsiders. By all accounts, it's time to go home.
It's time to eat Indian Food, shop Target's clearance sale, watch HGTV, sleep with the windows open, walk around barefoot, use a cell phone for hours, sing along with the radio, smell freshly cut grass, feel the crunch of twigs underfoot, use turn signals correctly, get bombarded with political ads, share a coldstone ice cream, visit costco for the Sunday samples, hear an English sermon, snack on pickles, browse a library full of books I can actually read, pick up all the "stuff" we left behind, meet with friends, print off pictures, and hold our families tightly.
Instead, the DX celebration was cancelled, and our tickets moved to a later time. So this weekend is mainly uneventful - we have nothing planned. We'll likely watch CNN, plan math lessons, take a long walk (uphill both ways), sleep in, arrange for a shipment from the US, and study our Spanish homework. Kinda boring - our new normal. :) But the fact that I'm ok with it must mean something, right?
It's time to eat Indian Food, shop Target's clearance sale, watch HGTV, sleep with the windows open, walk around barefoot, use a cell phone for hours, sing along with the radio, smell freshly cut grass, feel the crunch of twigs underfoot, use turn signals correctly, get bombarded with political ads, share a coldstone ice cream, visit costco for the Sunday samples, hear an English sermon, snack on pickles, browse a library full of books I can actually read, pick up all the "stuff" we left behind, meet with friends, print off pictures, and hold our families tightly.
Instead, the DX celebration was cancelled, and our tickets moved to a later time. So this weekend is mainly uneventful - we have nothing planned. We'll likely watch CNN, plan math lessons, take a long walk (uphill both ways), sleep in, arrange for a shipment from the US, and study our Spanish homework. Kinda boring - our new normal. :) But the fact that I'm ok with it must mean something, right?
Thursday, August 21, 2008
It's the little things
I had a hot shower today. Thank you Jesus!!!
(I almost feel like speaking in tongues... although it wouldn't be a big change...)
A hot shower may not be a big deal, but I haven't had one since Monday morning. Tuesday I was running late bc our alarms didn't go off. Wednesday I stepped into the shower half asleep and - AAAHHHHHEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!! Like ice cubes from the sky.
We were out of propane gas. Completely empty. No hot water, no cooking. (We don't have central heat, like in the states.) Curses! Hot showers was reason #1 why I chose never to be a missionary. I decided that if God made me such a pansy, He must not be calling me to the mission field. So, on my third day of long meetings with missionaries in a foreign countries, I was seriously wondering why God had called me here. *sigh*
Very happy ending, though. Our good friend Gilberto (who needs some sort of "most helpful to crazy Americans award") pulled some strings and got us a gas appointment this morning at 9am. Ahhh. Just in time. No meetings today, so Dave & I slept in, took a hot shower, and started out day a little late.
Now if that pesky washing machine could just get fixed...
(I almost feel like speaking in tongues... although it wouldn't be a big change...)
A hot shower may not be a big deal, but I haven't had one since Monday morning. Tuesday I was running late bc our alarms didn't go off. Wednesday I stepped into the shower half asleep and - AAAHHHHHEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!! Like ice cubes from the sky.
We were out of propane gas. Completely empty. No hot water, no cooking. (We don't have central heat, like in the states.) Curses! Hot showers was reason #1 why I chose never to be a missionary. I decided that if God made me such a pansy, He must not be calling me to the mission field. So, on my third day of long meetings with missionaries in a foreign countries, I was seriously wondering why God had called me here. *sigh*
Very happy ending, though. Our good friend Gilberto (who needs some sort of "most helpful to crazy Americans award") pulled some strings and got us a gas appointment this morning at 9am. Ahhh. Just in time. No meetings today, so Dave & I slept in, took a hot shower, and started out day a little late.
Now if that pesky washing machine could just get fixed...
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Poverty = Laziness???!!!
Today, on the third looong day of meetings, we were asked to reflect on the following bible verses and determine what they were telling us about 'results'.
Prov. 6:9-11:
"How long will you lie there, you sluggard? When will you get up from your sleep? A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest- and poverty will come on you like a bandit and scarcity like an armed man."
I was completely shocked!!
This is a totally american verse, and I said so. In the most prosperous country in the world, it's easy to think that poverty comes from laziness and blame people for their own problems. But we're foreigners in a strange land. And here, 60% of mexicans live in poverty - deep, crushing poverty. As in, they're living on less than $10/day. The avg. American annual family income is $37,000 - 3x the US poverty level. The avg. Mexican annual family income is $3700 - and that is earned through physical labor. It just seemed incredibly rude to imply that 'well, be sure to work hard so you don't get poor' when Mexicans are working much harder than North Americans and getting so much less for it. (and, they're telling this to church workers who are making ridiculously little for all the hard work we're expected to do)
Thankfully, the Lord held my tongue, and I tactfully stated my opposition to this verse and asked others to help open my eyes. (Baptists love that!) Here's the conclusion "we" eventually came to, and I'm asking for others' opinions on it:
'poverty' in this verse is not referring to money. it's more of a metaphor describing our entire lives. So, it's more like the verse Galatians 6:7 "A man reaps what he sows" or John 4:37 'One sows and another reaps' The idea being that we get out of life what we put into it. When we are merely trying to survive the day, at the end of the day, we don't feel richly blessed, we merely feel satisfied that we survived. Also, that it has to do with our spiritual life. If I'm going to church (or praying, studying the bible, etc.) just bc I feel I have to, I will not feel spiritually rich. Instead, if I'm going to church (etc.) as a small deposit in my spiritual health bank, then I can earn spiritual "interest" through the power of the Holy Spirit, and I will have more in that account than I put into it. Over time, I become rich only partly because of what I have done, but also because of the "interest" I've received from the Holy Spirit. But if I put nothing into it, then it can't grow. And that my "seed money" was a gift from the Holy Spirit. Like in the parable of the talents in Matt. 25:14-30: God gives us gifts, but we're expected to use them.
So, what do you think? Is the proverb showing a causation or a correlation? Is it about actual money or success or spiritual growth or what?
Prov. 6:9-11:
"How long will you lie there, you sluggard? When will you get up from your sleep? A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest- and poverty will come on you like a bandit and scarcity like an armed man."
I was completely shocked!!
This is a totally american verse, and I said so. In the most prosperous country in the world, it's easy to think that poverty comes from laziness and blame people for their own problems. But we're foreigners in a strange land. And here, 60% of mexicans live in poverty - deep, crushing poverty. As in, they're living on less than $10/day. The avg. American annual family income is $37,000 - 3x the US poverty level. The avg. Mexican annual family income is $3700 - and that is earned through physical labor. It just seemed incredibly rude to imply that 'well, be sure to work hard so you don't get poor' when Mexicans are working much harder than North Americans and getting so much less for it. (and, they're telling this to church workers who are making ridiculously little for all the hard work we're expected to do)
Thankfully, the Lord held my tongue, and I tactfully stated my opposition to this verse and asked others to help open my eyes. (Baptists love that!) Here's the conclusion "we" eventually came to, and I'm asking for others' opinions on it:
'poverty' in this verse is not referring to money. it's more of a metaphor describing our entire lives. So, it's more like the verse Galatians 6:7 "A man reaps what he sows" or John 4:37 'One sows and another reaps' The idea being that we get out of life what we put into it. When we are merely trying to survive the day, at the end of the day, we don't feel richly blessed, we merely feel satisfied that we survived. Also, that it has to do with our spiritual life. If I'm going to church (or praying, studying the bible, etc.) just bc I feel I have to, I will not feel spiritually rich. Instead, if I'm going to church (etc.) as a small deposit in my spiritual health bank, then I can earn spiritual "interest" through the power of the Holy Spirit, and I will have more in that account than I put into it. Over time, I become rich only partly because of what I have done, but also because of the "interest" I've received from the Holy Spirit. But if I put nothing into it, then it can't grow. And that my "seed money" was a gift from the Holy Spirit. Like in the parable of the talents in Matt. 25:14-30: God gives us gifts, but we're expected to use them.
So, what do you think? Is the proverb showing a causation or a correlation? Is it about actual money or success or spiritual growth or what?
Friday, August 15, 2008
Someday my truck will come...
3 weeks of shopping
5 hours of packing
12 weeks on the truck
45 minutes to unload & unpack
2 hours to settle in
having all of our stuff with us in our house ... priceless
5 hours of packing
12 weeks on the truck
45 minutes to unload & unpack
2 hours to settle in
having all of our stuff with us in our house ... priceless
Books!
Stumbling through the airport, my vision clouded by tears, I have no where to go and nothing to do for at least an hour, which is not helping me to calm down. Then, I find my salvation - I'm standing in front of a wall of English books. Not sure how I got here or if this is even real, I'm practically drooling over the books, newspapers, and magazines full of English words. Pouring over the words is like a balm to my soul.
In the end, I buy 2 newspapers, 4 magazines, and 1 book: $40 worth of English language information bound to carry me through the news few days.
In the end, I buy 2 newspapers, 4 magazines, and 1 book: $40 worth of English language information bound to carry me through the news few days.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Lessons Learned
Our first guests have been here for about 10 days. What we've learned:
10. not everyone who likes Mexican food actually likes Mexican food
9. keep a virtual pharmacy in the guest bathroom
8. altitude sickness is real. asprin should help (see #9)
7. be prepared to translate EVERY single sign, pamphlet, commercial, newspaper headline, news broadcast, overheard conversation, store annoucement, etc.
6. be prepared to make up the translation for anything heard or seen in Spanish, just in case the real translation is akward or I don't actually know what's going on
5. it is impossible to consistently provide American food, TV stations, or temperature controls
4. bring comfortable shoes. we walk A LOT.
3. the maps are always wrong. The roads are always crazy. Backseat drivers don't help.
2. Tequila is a local food. So is Sangria. Our drinking should not be intended as a reflection of our guests. we're just trying to blend in. Really. In fact, you should drink, too :)
1. Expect the unexpected.
10. not everyone who likes Mexican food actually likes Mexican food
9. keep a virtual pharmacy in the guest bathroom
8. altitude sickness is real. asprin should help (see #9)
7. be prepared to translate EVERY single sign, pamphlet, commercial, newspaper headline, news broadcast, overheard conversation, store annoucement, etc.
6. be prepared to make up the translation for anything heard or seen in Spanish, just in case the real translation is akward or I don't actually know what's going on
5. it is impossible to consistently provide American food, TV stations, or temperature controls
4. bring comfortable shoes. we walk A LOT.
3. the maps are always wrong. The roads are always crazy. Backseat drivers don't help.
2. Tequila is a local food. So is Sangria. Our drinking should not be intended as a reflection of our guests. we're just trying to blend in. Really. In fact, you should drink, too :)
1. Expect the unexpected.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Biblioteca (library)
The reason tourists don't get homesick is because they're not trying to act as if this new place is their home. Homesickness happens when we're trying to live our "normal" life and we're reminded about how different it is here from there.
I've always felt at home in libraries, as if I could spend all day there. So I was thrilled today when I found a local library in the center of a beautiful park. It seemed familiar - the kid's corner, the "silencio" signs, the dewey decimal system, the clean bathrooms, etc. But for some reason I couldn't warm up to the place. And I think it wasn't just the lack of comfortable chairs. Despite the rows and rows of books, I couldn't read a single one. Not even the kids' books. And I didn't understand what the librarians told me.
Homesickness is when you're trying to feel at home and it just doesn't work.
And then, when we least expect it, something familiar makes it all ok. After a few minutes of wandering confused through the library, I had a long spanish class, where i got to start reading a book of short stories - in Spanish! Maybe in a few months, the kids' corner of the library will be less frightening.
I've always felt at home in libraries, as if I could spend all day there. So I was thrilled today when I found a local library in the center of a beautiful park. It seemed familiar - the kid's corner, the "silencio" signs, the dewey decimal system, the clean bathrooms, etc. But for some reason I couldn't warm up to the place. And I think it wasn't just the lack of comfortable chairs. Despite the rows and rows of books, I couldn't read a single one. Not even the kids' books. And I didn't understand what the librarians told me.
Homesickness is when you're trying to feel at home and it just doesn't work.
And then, when we least expect it, something familiar makes it all ok. After a few minutes of wandering confused through the library, I had a long spanish class, where i got to start reading a book of short stories - in Spanish! Maybe in a few months, the kids' corner of the library will be less frightening.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Good News!
After yesterday's depressing post, I thought I'd share some more optimistic news from today:
1. I drove into D.F. (MX city) and back home, without getting lost, without being late, and without tears. Also, I used the GPS and IPOD and cell phone w/ bluetooth during this excursion. YAY!
2. Joined Newcomers' Club of Mexico City - got books of info re: living here and can join yahoo group and attend social gatherings. New Friends - very yay!
2. Found American bookstore w/ slightly used (cheap! English!) books
3. Found list of Eng. language churches in DF
4. Got recommendation for mega-church here in Toluca
5. Have scheduled excursion tomorrow to interview at an English school, visit the local University, and drive past a chiropractor.
6. Dave actually recommended we shop at Wal-Mart tonight!
7. Lost 6 pounds.
Whoo-hoo!
1. I drove into D.F. (MX city) and back home, without getting lost, without being late, and without tears. Also, I used the GPS and IPOD and cell phone w/ bluetooth during this excursion. YAY!
2. Joined Newcomers' Club of Mexico City - got books of info re: living here and can join yahoo group and attend social gatherings. New Friends - very yay!
2. Found American bookstore w/ slightly used (cheap! English!) books
3. Found list of Eng. language churches in DF
4. Got recommendation for mega-church here in Toluca
5. Have scheduled excursion tomorrow to interview at an English school, visit the local University, and drive past a chiropractor.
6. Dave actually recommended we shop at Wal-Mart tonight!
7. Lost 6 pounds.
Whoo-hoo!
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
On Mexico Time
Our moving truck is still not here. In fact, we have no idea when it will come. Our items were packed up 8+ weeks ago. David has been given excuses by the US moving company, the MX moving company, the MX immigration officials, Nissan, and our relocation company. Everyone claims it's someone else's fault, and by avoiding responsibility, they can all avoid actually doing anything. In the meantime, we are living out of suitcases. Thankfully, we're living out of 12 suitcases, bc Dave & I have traveled back and forth so many times. By the time our truck gets here, I'm starting to wonder if we should have just FedEx'd everything!
Our truck must be on Mexico Time.
Mexico Time means that 10:30 church starts at 10:40.
Mexico Time means that the food for our 7pm party arrives at 8:15.
Mexico Time means that our housekeeper comes a day late with no explanation.
Mexico Time means that the cultural assimilation excursion around town never happened.
Mexico Time means that I still haven't started Spanish Language classes.
Even our stove is on Mexican Time! It took over 45 minutes to boil water last Sunday...
So I'm starting to wonder... why? Why do I need my things to feel at home? Why do I need anything besides a bed and a toothbrush (and a laptop & a cell phone & satellite TV & an ATM card...)? Why do I choose to complain when my wonderful husband has done everything possible to make our new home as comfortable as possible?
Maybe my attitude adjustment is on Mexico Time, too.
Our truck must be on Mexico Time.
Mexico Time means that 10:30 church starts at 10:40.
Mexico Time means that the food for our 7pm party arrives at 8:15.
Mexico Time means that our housekeeper comes a day late with no explanation.
Mexico Time means that the cultural assimilation excursion around town never happened.
Mexico Time means that I still haven't started Spanish Language classes.
Even our stove is on Mexican Time! It took over 45 minutes to boil water last Sunday...
So I'm starting to wonder... why? Why do I need my things to feel at home? Why do I need anything besides a bed and a toothbrush (and a laptop & a cell phone & satellite TV & an ATM card...)? Why do I choose to complain when my wonderful husband has done everything possible to make our new home as comfortable as possible?
Maybe my attitude adjustment is on Mexico Time, too.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Fiesta de banco
7pm - Party started
8pm - guests arrived
8:30 - food & chairs arrived
10:30 - guitar performance started
11 - ran out of beer
12 - Dave took a nap :)
1am - dancing started
2am - tequila is running low, thanks to the creative serving of our good friend Gilberto
3am - we collapse in bed, thankful that they left early on our account (these parties usually go until breakfast at 7am!)
8pm - guests arrived
8:30 - food & chairs arrived
10:30 - guitar performance started
11 - ran out of beer
12 - Dave took a nap :)
1am - dancing started
2am - tequila is running low, thanks to the creative serving of our good friend Gilberto
3am - we collapse in bed, thankful that they left early on our account (these parties usually go until breakfast at 7am!)
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Home Sweet Home
We flew home for the 4th of July (actually, we flew home for two weeks to spend time with our families, collect items we'd forgotten, and get some work done). So, we got to spend America's most patriotic holiday weekend riding the train through the midwest, eating internationally at the "Taste of Chicago", and watching fireworks from the shores of Lake Michigan. Aahhh... it's nice to be home.
But where is home?
We've lived in Chicago, in Ann Arbor, and now in Toluca. But we didn't grow up in any of those towns. And I'm sure the list will keep growing. So where do we belong?
It's hard to say. "home is where the heart is" "home is where they have to take you in" "when I was at home, I was in a better place" Authors have lots of coined phrases to describe what our home is or what it should be. But I traveled "home" for two weeks after being at my new "home" for only two weeks. And if I'm completely honest, I felt "at home" in many places. I felt welcomed home by loving family throughout our trip, even upon arrival in Mexico.
No matter where we hang our hats (or purse!), we're always going to be Americans. We felt that as soon as we stepped off the plane. We liked being surrounded by such diversity, such freedom, such opportunity as can only be found in the U.S.
But I think we'll also always identify with the Mexico we know. A country filled with such optimism, such passion, such comraderie that everyone feels like family.
So who knows when we'll be home. But it might be ok that we're wanderers, enjoying many places before God calls us home.
But where is home?
We've lived in Chicago, in Ann Arbor, and now in Toluca. But we didn't grow up in any of those towns. And I'm sure the list will keep growing. So where do we belong?
It's hard to say. "home is where the heart is" "home is where they have to take you in" "when I was at home, I was in a better place" Authors have lots of coined phrases to describe what our home is or what it should be. But I traveled "home" for two weeks after being at my new "home" for only two weeks. And if I'm completely honest, I felt "at home" in many places. I felt welcomed home by loving family throughout our trip, even upon arrival in Mexico.
No matter where we hang our hats (or purse!), we're always going to be Americans. We felt that as soon as we stepped off the plane. We liked being surrounded by such diversity, such freedom, such opportunity as can only be found in the U.S.
But I think we'll also always identify with the Mexico we know. A country filled with such optimism, such passion, such comraderie that everyone feels like family.
So who knows when we'll be home. But it might be ok that we're wanderers, enjoying many places before God calls us home.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Vacation!
Aaahhh. Time for vacation. Yes, I need a break. My life has been so stressful these past two weeks here in Mexico, watching Satellite TV and breaking only to travel to Starbucks for internet access...
And the question I'm most dreading, "so what have YOU been up to, Kelly?" Because the people who ask are only being nice, trying to start a conversation. And because I want to tell those people the truth, but the truth is still so depressing I'm not ready to admit it to myself. The truth is that I haven't adjusted yet. My daily routine is boring, and my personal triumphs seem insignificant: found US news on the TV, drove to Wal-Mart & back w/out getting lost, bought a sofa in Spanish, started language lessons, signed a Spanish cell phone contract, began mastering facebook, located organic cleaners, hired a cleaning lady, tried sushi, carried on a conversation with David in public mainly in Spanish so we don't look like tourists, etc.
The truth is that while we may have "moved" we're living out of suitcases in a huge dirty house. It took days to navigate the roads and the stores to buy all of the food, cleaners, appliances, clothes, toiletries, linens, and other things that didn't fit in our suitcase or that we can no longer live without. After that, without the items on our moving truck or friends in this town or the right clothes for the weather or the guts to explore alone, I felt stuck in an empty house with nothing to do. So I spent a week watching too much TV and feeling sorry for myself.
But who wants to hear that?
So instead, I exagerate. "I've been settling in, getting to know the area, running some errands, and practicing my Spanish." It's not a lie, but I am still looking forward to the time where I can unpack ALL of our stuff, and hang up curtains that match, and strike up a conversation with a stranger, and make a Mexican dinner, and listen to NPR streaming radio at home, and get into a routine that works.
It will happen soon.
And the question I'm most dreading, "so what have YOU been up to, Kelly?" Because the people who ask are only being nice, trying to start a conversation. And because I want to tell those people the truth, but the truth is still so depressing I'm not ready to admit it to myself. The truth is that I haven't adjusted yet. My daily routine is boring, and my personal triumphs seem insignificant: found US news on the TV, drove to Wal-Mart & back w/out getting lost, bought a sofa in Spanish, started language lessons, signed a Spanish cell phone contract, began mastering facebook, located organic cleaners, hired a cleaning lady, tried sushi, carried on a conversation with David in public mainly in Spanish so we don't look like tourists, etc.
The truth is that while we may have "moved" we're living out of suitcases in a huge dirty house. It took days to navigate the roads and the stores to buy all of the food, cleaners, appliances, clothes, toiletries, linens, and other things that didn't fit in our suitcase or that we can no longer live without. After that, without the items on our moving truck or friends in this town or the right clothes for the weather or the guts to explore alone, I felt stuck in an empty house with nothing to do. So I spent a week watching too much TV and feeling sorry for myself.
But who wants to hear that?
So instead, I exagerate. "I've been settling in, getting to know the area, running some errands, and practicing my Spanish." It's not a lie, but I am still looking forward to the time where I can unpack ALL of our stuff, and hang up curtains that match, and strike up a conversation with a stranger, and make a Mexican dinner, and listen to NPR streaming radio at home, and get into a routine that works.
It will happen soon.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
you can take the teacher out of the school...
So, after a long day of driving, and waiting, and working, and driving, and waiting, and getting lost, and speaking a lot of Spanish, and more driving, and more waiting, I was looking forward to a long lonely night at home. (Dave's on a business trip).
So I stop at a convenience store to buy some corona, or at least full-fat Ben&Jerry's ice cream.
I walk out with oatmeal cookies and organic milk.
Somehow, Christian teacher is oozing out of my pores and I can't even fake it.
Sheesh
So I stop at a convenience store to buy some corona, or at least full-fat Ben&Jerry's ice cream.
I walk out with oatmeal cookies and organic milk.
Somehow, Christian teacher is oozing out of my pores and I can't even fake it.
Sheesh
Monday, June 16, 2008
Fortune Cookies
Kelly – “there is a prospect of a thrilling time ahead for you/ Existe la posibilidad de ratos emocionantes por venir.”
Dave – “All the troubles you have will pass quickly./ Todos los problenas que tiene pasarán rápidamente.
Maybe this is a promise of things to come?
Dave – “All the troubles you have will pass quickly./ Todos los problenas que tiene pasarán rápidamente.
Maybe this is a promise of things to come?
Sunday, June 15, 2008
OMG it's time
So it’s 4am and I can’t look at the clock bc my eyes tell my brain I should be in bed & my brain tells my heart to give it up it’s time to leave but then my eyes see all the dirt in the corners of my house now that it’s empty and my mind thinks I should clean before I go and my ears hear honey, everything is fine and then my heart is so jealous I think just leave it because right now I would give anything to keep using my own bathroom, mold and all.
Suddenly, I hear myself answer , “yes!”, even though I can’t remember the question and I know it’s a lie bc I want to scream, “NO! I’m NOT ready! We CAN’T go yet!” and throw a royal tantrum or at least sneak 1 last thing into the suitcases really, just this one but then I realize there’s nothing left to take. The house is empty. One last check for my passport is really just routine, because what kind of nutcase carries 8 suitcases & forgets her passport?
In the car I blend into the suitcases and just when I start to feel like another piece of luggage, I hear David try to distract me. “You’ve got to wonder, who else drives at 4am Sunday morning?” But I just smile glumly because it makes me wonder about everyone else who had to leave their homes.
I try to be brave for him, but he knows I’m not, because normally it’s me who talks to fill the silence and this morning he has taken on that task just to be nice. I can’t even remember why I’m doing this, so I just tell myself, won’t it be nice to relax? And that works for all of two minutes before I remember how many things I have left undone and how many I have left to do…
There will be no rest for me today.
Suddenly, I hear myself answer , “yes!”, even though I can’t remember the question and I know it’s a lie bc I want to scream, “NO! I’m NOT ready! We CAN’T go yet!” and throw a royal tantrum or at least sneak 1 last thing into the suitcases really, just this one but then I realize there’s nothing left to take. The house is empty. One last check for my passport is really just routine, because what kind of nutcase carries 8 suitcases & forgets her passport?
In the car I blend into the suitcases and just when I start to feel like another piece of luggage, I hear David try to distract me. “You’ve got to wonder, who else drives at 4am Sunday morning?” But I just smile glumly because it makes me wonder about everyone else who had to leave their homes.
I try to be brave for him, but he knows I’m not, because normally it’s me who talks to fill the silence and this morning he has taken on that task just to be nice. I can’t even remember why I’m doing this, so I just tell myself, won’t it be nice to relax? And that works for all of two minutes before I remember how many things I have left undone and how many I have left to do…
There will be no rest for me today.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
It's Friday, but Sunday's Coming!
Dave comes in on Friday!!! I am so excited. It has been soooo long! I am totally excited to see him, and show off all the hard work I've been doing to be ready for the move - and then I remember that if Friday is almost here then Sunday is almost here and Sunday is when I actually move. Huh.
Everyone keeps asking me if I'm excited. Sure I'm excited! But I'm also really scared. I'm excited for Friday - but Sunday's coming.
I'm also often asked if I'm ready. I want to answer with witty comment about how none of us are ever truly ready, but it always seems to fall flat. I'm ready for Friday - but Sunday's coming.
BTW - My title phrase first coined by Tony Campolo was meant to be an inspiring message about Christian faith. When things are down and depressing, like they were on Good Friday, just remember - Sunday's coming! Christians will always have trials, but the promise is for something amazing in this life or the next.
Only in my case it's the opposite - Friday will bring rejoicing & Sunday will bring tears. Hello, Friday. Good-bye, Sunday.
It's (almost) Friday - but Sunday's coming!
Everyone keeps asking me if I'm excited. Sure I'm excited! But I'm also really scared. I'm excited for Friday - but Sunday's coming.
I'm also often asked if I'm ready. I want to answer with witty comment about how none of us are ever truly ready, but it always seems to fall flat. I'm ready for Friday - but Sunday's coming.
BTW - My title phrase first coined by Tony Campolo was meant to be an inspiring message about Christian faith. When things are down and depressing, like they were on Good Friday, just remember - Sunday's coming! Christians will always have trials, but the promise is for something amazing in this life or the next.
Only in my case it's the opposite - Friday will bring rejoicing & Sunday will bring tears. Hello, Friday. Good-bye, Sunday.
It's (almost) Friday - but Sunday's coming!
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Advice people actually think I need to know before I move to a place they've never been before
6. Carry a lot of cash to bribe the police
5. I don't think Americans should drive in Mexico
4. So my friend went and she actually had a maid (this was whispered in such a way as to imply that having a maid was equivalent to having a live-in stripper or something)
3. You need a passport, you know.
2. I heard they revalued the peso (they did. when I was in junior high.)
1. Don't drink the water!
5. I don't think Americans should drive in Mexico
4. So my friend went and she actually had a maid (this was whispered in such a way as to imply that having a maid was equivalent to having a live-in stripper or something)
3. You need a passport, you know.
2. I heard they revalued the peso (they did. when I was in junior high.)
1. Don't drink the water!
Monday, June 9, 2008
Top 10 questions I'm sick of answering with a smile
10. Why Mexico? Are you kidding? yes, this is all a big joke. thanks for your support
9. Where exactly in Mexico? this is followed by a glazed look as I try to explain, so I keep wondering why people are asking!
8. Are you going to teach Spanish? um... no. I'm going to learn it.
7. Why are you leaving so soon? soon??!! Dave's been gone since April 1!!
So you've been all by yourself? no, actually, there's a couple of single guys staying with me to keep me company (oops!)
6. What are you going to do with the house? we're renting it out
5. So when are they moving in? um... funny you should ask...
4. Are you driving? you've got to be kidding!
3. When does the moving truck come? three weeks ago ... haven't you noticed I wear the same 4 outfits over and over again??!!
2. When do you come back? anytime we want to buy a plane ticket...
1. Do you have a place to stay? nah, we were going to live in a box.
9. Where exactly in Mexico? this is followed by a glazed look as I try to explain, so I keep wondering why people are asking!
8. Are you going to teach Spanish? um... no. I'm going to learn it.
7. Why are you leaving so soon? soon??!! Dave's been gone since April 1!!
So you've been all by yourself? no, actually, there's a couple of single guys staying with me to keep me company (oops!)
6. What are you going to do with the house? we're renting it out
5. So when are they moving in? um... funny you should ask...
4. Are you driving? you've got to be kidding!
3. When does the moving truck come? three weeks ago ... haven't you noticed I wear the same 4 outfits over and over again??!!
2. When do you come back? anytime we want to buy a plane ticket...
1. Do you have a place to stay? nah, we were going to live in a box.
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Are all Americans this confused?
I knew my students would have a lot of questions. And I scheduled a day in my Spanish lessons to discuss the cultural differences between daily life in Mexico and daily life in the U.S. This seemed like a somewhat relevant classroom discussion, as it's part of my job to impart this knowledge to future generations.
But when adults started asking me the same things, I started to worry.
Just in case you've been wondering, here are just a few questions (and their answers) about Mexico and our trip:
Are you living in a suburb of Mexico City? No. Mexico City can't have suburbs. It is geographically stuck within a ring of mountains. It can grow in population, but not in size. The concept of suburbs is totally American, and almost no other country has them. We are lucky to be living within miles of Mexico City, so we can drive there for things like organic grocery stores, American restaurants, protestant churches, and Kelly's job.
Do Mexicans make less than Americans? Will you be paid in Pesos? Doesn't it cost less to live there? We can be paid in pesos or dollars, it doesn't really matter since all companies pay electronically anyway. There are 10 pesos to 1 dollar, approximately. The avg. American makes $40,000 per year; the avg. Mexican makes $4000 per year. Cost of living is not really cheaper in Mexico, they are just used to living with less than Americans are. If we wanted to, we could live in a smaller house, drive older cars, eat less food, and choose cheaper entertainment - whether we lived in the U.S. or in Mexico. Plenty of college-educated Mexicans have satellite TV, cell phones, a reliable car, a few kids, a housekeeper, extra food, and a few stamps in their passport.
How much is gas there? I'm guessing Americans are interested in this bc gas is such a hot topic right now. Mexico is a net exporter of gasoline. What that means is that Mexicans can extract more gas from their own land than they actually need. The arabic world we call "the middle east" can all explode next week & Mexicans will still be driving SUVs. They also have government controlled gas prices, because the avg. Mexican thinks it's wrong for very few mexicans to get really rich selling a national resource to their own countrymen. (it would be like Michiganians selling tap water) So the government sets 1 gas price for the country & all stations charge the same amount. Right now that price is about $2.50/ gallon for a full-service fill-up.
What will you eat? food. like we do now. As previously stated, we're living in a house with a kitchen, much like we do now, and in a town with many American-styled grocery stores, and delicious restaurants. If you actually know Dave & I, you can be assured that we will eat about anything. :)
What are you going to do all day? Well, we'll be working! Dave is working for the same company, just in a different location. So his job will be very similar to what he's already been doing (there are some differences, but most people only know that he uses calculus to test cars. That basic concept isn't changing.) Kelly is still finalizing her plans, but currently is planning to work 2 or 3 different jobs, as well as devote time to some interests she hasn't had time to do. "2 or 3?!" someone asked yesterday. "Well," I replied, "I work 2 or 3 jobs now, it's just all on one paycheck!" This is actually true. Sadly.
Are the police/ government corrupt? This is a sociological question that could take days to answer. Most likely, not any more corrupt than other governments. If you've watched American news, you know that our government & police have been caught up in a lot of scandals lately. If you have heard stories, please try to remember that saying Mexico City was really dangerous in the 80s is like saying Detroit had riots during the 70s. It's true, but it's also history, not current events.
Do you have to bribe the police? Um, no. In fact, it's a bad idea. But, remember that what Americans consider a bribe, Mexicans sometimes consider a tip for good service. We're planning to smile a lot.
Are you going to be illegal aliens? um, no. sorry.
I'm still waiting for more questions.
But when adults started asking me the same things, I started to worry.
Just in case you've been wondering, here are just a few questions (and their answers) about Mexico and our trip:
Are you living in a suburb of Mexico City? No. Mexico City can't have suburbs. It is geographically stuck within a ring of mountains. It can grow in population, but not in size. The concept of suburbs is totally American, and almost no other country has them. We are lucky to be living within miles of Mexico City, so we can drive there for things like organic grocery stores, American restaurants, protestant churches, and Kelly's job.
Do Mexicans make less than Americans? Will you be paid in Pesos? Doesn't it cost less to live there? We can be paid in pesos or dollars, it doesn't really matter since all companies pay electronically anyway. There are 10 pesos to 1 dollar, approximately. The avg. American makes $40,000 per year; the avg. Mexican makes $4000 per year. Cost of living is not really cheaper in Mexico, they are just used to living with less than Americans are. If we wanted to, we could live in a smaller house, drive older cars, eat less food, and choose cheaper entertainment - whether we lived in the U.S. or in Mexico. Plenty of college-educated Mexicans have satellite TV, cell phones, a reliable car, a few kids, a housekeeper, extra food, and a few stamps in their passport.
How much is gas there? I'm guessing Americans are interested in this bc gas is such a hot topic right now. Mexico is a net exporter of gasoline. What that means is that Mexicans can extract more gas from their own land than they actually need. The arabic world we call "the middle east" can all explode next week & Mexicans will still be driving SUVs. They also have government controlled gas prices, because the avg. Mexican thinks it's wrong for very few mexicans to get really rich selling a national resource to their own countrymen. (it would be like Michiganians selling tap water) So the government sets 1 gas price for the country & all stations charge the same amount. Right now that price is about $2.50/ gallon for a full-service fill-up.
What will you eat? food. like we do now. As previously stated, we're living in a house with a kitchen, much like we do now, and in a town with many American-styled grocery stores, and delicious restaurants. If you actually know Dave & I, you can be assured that we will eat about anything. :)
What are you going to do all day? Well, we'll be working! Dave is working for the same company, just in a different location. So his job will be very similar to what he's already been doing (there are some differences, but most people only know that he uses calculus to test cars. That basic concept isn't changing.) Kelly is still finalizing her plans, but currently is planning to work 2 or 3 different jobs, as well as devote time to some interests she hasn't had time to do. "2 or 3?!" someone asked yesterday. "Well," I replied, "I work 2 or 3 jobs now, it's just all on one paycheck!" This is actually true. Sadly.
Are the police/ government corrupt? This is a sociological question that could take days to answer. Most likely, not any more corrupt than other governments. If you've watched American news, you know that our government & police have been caught up in a lot of scandals lately. If you have heard stories, please try to remember that saying Mexico City was really dangerous in the 80s is like saying Detroit had riots during the 70s. It's true, but it's also history, not current events.
Do you have to bribe the police? Um, no. In fact, it's a bad idea. But, remember that what Americans consider a bribe, Mexicans sometimes consider a tip for good service. We're planning to smile a lot.
Are you going to be illegal aliens? um, no. sorry.
I'm still waiting for more questions.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Roommates
With the right lighting and costume designer, I could be living an episode of "Desperate Housewives"! There are two guys staying at my house right now, while my husband is away on business. Normally, this would be either a top-secret quirk or some generous act of hospitality, but in this case it's just one more thing to make me completely crazy.
The only reasons I'm still sane:
a) dave's ok with it
b) it's only temporary
c) they both speak engineer, which I'm used to
d) I can now watch Law & Order SVU after dark and still fall asleep before midnight.
the not nearly so exciting nor benevolent reason they're here: they're renting our house for the next two years while we're gone, and their old leases expired May 31. So, Dave's in Mexico, the new guys are in our house, and I'm in limbo for 2 weeks while I finish my job.
I totally should have quit sooner.
The only reasons I'm still sane:
a) dave's ok with it
b) it's only temporary
c) they both speak engineer, which I'm used to
d) I can now watch Law & Order SVU after dark and still fall asleep before midnight.
the not nearly so exciting nor benevolent reason they're here: they're renting our house for the next two years while we're gone, and their old leases expired May 31. So, Dave's in Mexico, the new guys are in our house, and I'm in limbo for 2 weeks while I finish my job.
I totally should have quit sooner.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Ambushed
Everything looked normal. But it didn't take long for me to process the truth - my stuff has been taken. Someone came into my house while I was at work, and a lot of my things are missing. As I look around, I see empty book shelves, empty cabinets, empty closets.
I have been violated.
And not entirely without my permission.
This morning, instead of helping my husband direct movers and sort through items and double check our packing list and try to awkwardly dust, I chose to avoid the entire situation by escaping to work. Weeks of procrastination and avoidance culminated in the moment of my arrival home this afternoon. Half of me has been working hard to prepare for the move: buying items we needed, whether or not they were approved by customs, and setting them aside for the movers to take. But half of me was not preparing. Half of me was reading books and grading papers instead of sorting through my classroom supplies. Half of me was buying new clothes instead of sorting through what clothes I needed to take. Half of me was visiting with friends & relatives rather than try to find a renter.
Half of me is ready to leave.
Half of me is not.
I have been violated.
And not entirely without my permission.
This morning, instead of helping my husband direct movers and sort through items and double check our packing list and try to awkwardly dust, I chose to avoid the entire situation by escaping to work. Weeks of procrastination and avoidance culminated in the moment of my arrival home this afternoon. Half of me has been working hard to prepare for the move: buying items we needed, whether or not they were approved by customs, and setting them aside for the movers to take. But half of me was not preparing. Half of me was reading books and grading papers instead of sorting through my classroom supplies. Half of me was buying new clothes instead of sorting through what clothes I needed to take. Half of me was visiting with friends & relatives rather than try to find a renter.
Half of me is ready to leave.
Half of me is not.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Lilacs & hummus
We got to spend last Sat. afternoon with some of our new Mexican friends. Whenever I say that it sounds really ignorant & biased, but they really are Mexicans! One of Dave's Mexican co-workers is in MI on a business trip, just like Dave, and another one is coming soon. And, there's a Mexican Nissan employee who is here for 2 years, with his new wife. They're basically living the opposite of us - they're from Mexico on a 2-yr. business trip to the US. Cecilia is really struggling with the same concerns I had about going to Mexico: she had to quit her job to come here, and now she is really bored and really struggling with the language and really missing her friends & family back home. It felt good to know that my concerns aren't really all that weird!
We took them out for Mediterranean food, a very local specialty. They loved falafel & hummus & tabbouleh & shish kafta, even if they couldn't pronounce any of it :) We have really looked for Mediterranean food in Toluca, but the only place we can find it is at Costco ;) really wild!
Cecilia loved the lilac flowers. Lilacs are totally local; there aren't any in Mexico. They were out in full force this weekend, and she was ready to take some home with he
BTW - my Spanish name when I was in high school Spanish was Cecilia. Ah, the irony.
We took them out for Mediterranean food, a very local specialty. They loved falafel & hummus & tabbouleh & shish kafta, even if they couldn't pronounce any of it :) We have really looked for Mediterranean food in Toluca, but the only place we can find it is at Costco ;) really wild!
Cecilia loved the lilac flowers. Lilacs are totally local; there aren't any in Mexico. They were out in full force this weekend, and she was ready to take some home with he
BTW - my Spanish name when I was in high school Spanish was Cecilia. Ah, the irony.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Jesus on a Bicycle
I can't ride a bike. Which is really embarrassing for two reasons:
1. Papa taught me how to ride. We had a really great dad&daughter moment when I was in kindergarten & I learned how to ride a super cool green bike with streamers, which I continued to ride until I was about 8.
2. Everyone can ride a bike.
Even though I hadn't rode in years, I kind of assumed I could always just pick up a bike and start riding again. That's where the phrase "just like riding a bicycle" comes from right? So imagine my surprise, at 21, when a friend & I rent bikes in Rome to visit the Vatican. We had barely started when I ran into a cafe table, crashing the glasses & dumping a carafe of wine! In a matter of minutes I had ran into a nun, set off a BMW car alarm, run into a brick wall, and nearly fell into a sewer ditch before we realized that we needed to take the bikes back. :) How embarrassing!
Now that we live in Ann Arbor, lots of people ride bikes. In fact, I don't think I can have kids until & unless I'm prepared to ride around with them to pick up ice cream or Starbucks or something. So now I want to re-learn. Just in case I ever need to get somewhere, and all that's available is a bicycle!
In some ways, our Christian faith can be like riding a bike. We do it as a kid & then put it on a shelf somewhere, fully intending to pick it up whenever we're desperate or when we have kids ourselves. It never really occurs to us that faith is something we do, something we practice, something we need to keep doing in order to keep knowing how to do it!
Then I found this story on http://www.activatedministries.org/activated/47.554:
When I met Jesus, life became rather like a bike ride. It was a tandem bike; I rode in the front and steered, and Jesus was in the rear seat, helping to pedal.
I don't remember just when it happened, but Jesus suggested we change places. Life hasn't been the same since. Jesus makes the ride so exciting!
When I had control, I knew the way. It was safe and predictable, but rather boring--always the shortest distance between two points. But when Jesus got in the driver's seat, He knew delightful "long cuts" up mountain roads and down again at breakneck speeds. It was all I could do to hold on!
I didn't want to question His judgment, but once I couldn't help myself. "Don't You think we should slow down just a little? I'm scared." He turned and smiled and touched my hand and said, "It's okay. Pedal."
Sometimes I got worried and anxious and asked, "Where are You taking me?"
I am learning to not worry or want to get back in control, but just to relax and enjoy the view.
"It's a surprise," He would say with a laugh. Gradually I learned to trust. I forgot my boring life and entered the adventure.
He took me to meet people with gifts that I needed--gifts of love, healing, acceptance, joy. They gave me their gifts to take on my journey--our journey, my Lord's and mine--and we were off again. He said, "Give the gifts away." So I did, to other people we met. But the strangest thing happened. I found that the more of those things I gave away, the more I had for myself and to give to other people we met along the way. And still our load was light.
At first I didn't trust Jesus to be in control of my life. I thought He would wreck it. But He knows the bike's capabilities and limits, and all sorts of tricks. He knows how to take sharp corners at high speeds, make the bike "jump" to clear rocks in our way, and He can even make it fly when the road disappears beneath us.
I am learning to not worry or want to get back in control, but just to relax and enjoy the view, the cool breeze on my face, and the delightful company of my constant companion, Jesus.
I still get tired sometimes because it is a long, hard ride, but Jesus just smiles and says, "Pedal."
I want to be in the front of the bike, listening to Jesus' whispered directions from the back. But a Christian life isn't like that. My life is more like a wild ride on the back of the bike. I am so thankful for the journey so far.
As I travel to Mexico for the next part of the bike ride, I will miss those whom I am riding with now. But I am looking forward to new people I will meet.
1. Papa taught me how to ride. We had a really great dad&daughter moment when I was in kindergarten & I learned how to ride a super cool green bike with streamers, which I continued to ride until I was about 8.
2. Everyone can ride a bike.
Even though I hadn't rode in years, I kind of assumed I could always just pick up a bike and start riding again. That's where the phrase "just like riding a bicycle" comes from right? So imagine my surprise, at 21, when a friend & I rent bikes in Rome to visit the Vatican. We had barely started when I ran into a cafe table, crashing the glasses & dumping a carafe of wine! In a matter of minutes I had ran into a nun, set off a BMW car alarm, run into a brick wall, and nearly fell into a sewer ditch before we realized that we needed to take the bikes back. :) How embarrassing!
Now that we live in Ann Arbor, lots of people ride bikes. In fact, I don't think I can have kids until & unless I'm prepared to ride around with them to pick up ice cream or Starbucks or something. So now I want to re-learn. Just in case I ever need to get somewhere, and all that's available is a bicycle!
In some ways, our Christian faith can be like riding a bike. We do it as a kid & then put it on a shelf somewhere, fully intending to pick it up whenever we're desperate or when we have kids ourselves. It never really occurs to us that faith is something we do, something we practice, something we need to keep doing in order to keep knowing how to do it!
Then I found this story on http://www.activatedministries.org/activated/47.554:
When I met Jesus, life became rather like a bike ride. It was a tandem bike; I rode in the front and steered, and Jesus was in the rear seat, helping to pedal.
I don't remember just when it happened, but Jesus suggested we change places. Life hasn't been the same since. Jesus makes the ride so exciting!
When I had control, I knew the way. It was safe and predictable, but rather boring--always the shortest distance between two points. But when Jesus got in the driver's seat, He knew delightful "long cuts" up mountain roads and down again at breakneck speeds. It was all I could do to hold on!
I didn't want to question His judgment, but once I couldn't help myself. "Don't You think we should slow down just a little? I'm scared." He turned and smiled and touched my hand and said, "It's okay. Pedal."
Sometimes I got worried and anxious and asked, "Where are You taking me?"
I am learning to not worry or want to get back in control, but just to relax and enjoy the view.
"It's a surprise," He would say with a laugh. Gradually I learned to trust. I forgot my boring life and entered the adventure.
He took me to meet people with gifts that I needed--gifts of love, healing, acceptance, joy. They gave me their gifts to take on my journey--our journey, my Lord's and mine--and we were off again. He said, "Give the gifts away." So I did, to other people we met. But the strangest thing happened. I found that the more of those things I gave away, the more I had for myself and to give to other people we met along the way. And still our load was light.
At first I didn't trust Jesus to be in control of my life. I thought He would wreck it. But He knows the bike's capabilities and limits, and all sorts of tricks. He knows how to take sharp corners at high speeds, make the bike "jump" to clear rocks in our way, and He can even make it fly when the road disappears beneath us.
I am learning to not worry or want to get back in control, but just to relax and enjoy the view, the cool breeze on my face, and the delightful company of my constant companion, Jesus.
I still get tired sometimes because it is a long, hard ride, but Jesus just smiles and says, "Pedal."
I want to be in the front of the bike, listening to Jesus' whispered directions from the back. But a Christian life isn't like that. My life is more like a wild ride on the back of the bike. I am so thankful for the journey so far.
As I travel to Mexico for the next part of the bike ride, I will miss those whom I am riding with now. But I am looking forward to new people I will meet.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Where going green means making some green
While the US is gearing up for it’s biggest Earth Day celebration in 40 years, Mexico continues to greatly surpass us in “green” activities. We had been trying to discover how we could continue to recycle while in Mexico, but weren’t being given a lot of detailed information about our trash pick-up. Dave had basically been told that our housekeeper would take care of it, and that everyone recycled. Today, I got the whole story.
Not so long ago, Mexico used open garbage dumps to collect all of the city’s trash. Huge trucks simply continued dumping until the pit was full, then it was covered with dirt & they moved on to another dump. Cardboard shanty towns would crop up around the dumps and poor families would make a meager living by pulling anything of value out of the dumps and reselling it.
As Mexico City has worked to become healthier and cleaner over the last few years, this home-grown economy grew even larger. Every piece of cardboard, plastic, and glass can be sold to scrap dealers who resell it for a profit. In order to encourage recycling, the government simply supported the purchase of used items. Now, each garbage truck and garbage dump literally has people in it every day sorting through the trash to collect piles of recyclable materials. The trash gets picked up every few days so that there’s nothing too rotten in there, and every possible item is removed for reuse or recycling.
Amazing!
Not so long ago, Mexico used open garbage dumps to collect all of the city’s trash. Huge trucks simply continued dumping until the pit was full, then it was covered with dirt & they moved on to another dump. Cardboard shanty towns would crop up around the dumps and poor families would make a meager living by pulling anything of value out of the dumps and reselling it.
As Mexico City has worked to become healthier and cleaner over the last few years, this home-grown economy grew even larger. Every piece of cardboard, plastic, and glass can be sold to scrap dealers who resell it for a profit. In order to encourage recycling, the government simply supported the purchase of used items. Now, each garbage truck and garbage dump literally has people in it every day sorting through the trash to collect piles of recyclable materials. The trash gets picked up every few days so that there’s nothing too rotten in there, and every possible item is removed for reuse or recycling.
Amazing!
Sunday, April 20, 2008
What not to wear ... En espanol
What NOT to wear:
Shorts, tank tops, tee shirts, pajama pants, flip-flops, midriff tops, baseball caps, tennis shoes
What to wear if you’re an American desperately trying to fit in:
Whatever you’d normally wear to church on Sunday. Or something made by a designer.
Americans are notorious for our atrocious fashions. More to the point, we’re so filthy rich that we don’t mind looking like complete slobs in public most of the time! Even devoted fans of Clinton & Stacy’s TV show (or Trinny & Susannah’s British version) aren't likely to clean up for a quick trip to the mall.
But we had heard that Mexico is a different story all together. So today we spent a lot of time people watching. What do they wear in Mexico? Basically what we would wear to church! Designer labels are actually more popular there than here, but most guys were in jeans and polos, while ladies were in jeans, capris, or casual pants with cute tops. In fact, their word for polo shirt is “playera” which roughly translates to “beachwear”.
Shorts, tank tops, tee shirts, pajama pants, flip-flops, midriff tops, baseball caps, tennis shoes
What to wear if you’re an American desperately trying to fit in:
Whatever you’d normally wear to church on Sunday. Or something made by a designer.
Americans are notorious for our atrocious fashions. More to the point, we’re so filthy rich that we don’t mind looking like complete slobs in public most of the time! Even devoted fans of Clinton & Stacy’s TV show (or Trinny & Susannah’s British version) aren't likely to clean up for a quick trip to the mall.
But we had heard that Mexico is a different story all together. So today we spent a lot of time people watching. What do they wear in Mexico? Basically what we would wear to church! Designer labels are actually more popular there than here, but most guys were in jeans and polos, while ladies were in jeans, capris, or casual pants with cute tops. In fact, their word for polo shirt is “playera” which roughly translates to “beachwear”.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Worse than a Michigan Left
Never ones to plan a boring weekend, Dave & I spent over 6 hours in his new Nissan Impala navigating the unpredictable roads of Mexico City & its environs. Ok, so Dave drove and navigated, and I mainly watched the sights speed by. Well, sometimes speed by. Other times, it seemed we were perpetually stuck in traffic. There were a few things working against us:
A malfunctioning GPS with outdated maps
street signs completely in Spanish (including Spanish abbreviations)
absolutely no knowledge of where we were going!
Eventually, we did find our way from the airport to the Mexico City Christian Academy and from there to Toluca. Thankfully we were very happy to be together, because constantly turning around, getting lost again, getting stuck in traffic again, and then trying another road would have made anyone else nutty!
But it was a great way to see the city (almost all of it!).
A malfunctioning GPS with outdated maps
street signs completely in Spanish (including Spanish abbreviations)
absolutely no knowledge of where we were going!
Eventually, we did find our way from the airport to the Mexico City Christian Academy and from there to Toluca. Thankfully we were very happy to be together, because constantly turning around, getting lost again, getting stuck in traffic again, and then trying another road would have made anyone else nutty!
But it was a great way to see the city (almost all of it!).
Sunday, April 6, 2008
To Sell or not to Sell... that's only one of the questions!
We have never really considered selling our house in MI. The logistical answer is that by all accounts, our house has lost a lot of value since our purchase, despite our seemingly endless renovations. Even if we managed to sell it, we’d probably lose a lot of money.
But after a lot of soul-searching today, I finally stumbled upon the real reason. We can’t emotionally deal with selling the house. Selling is so final. Selling means moving not just relocating. Selling our house and living in another one means that our home would be there and not here. It would mean that if we come back, we’d never again be able to enjoy all the hard work we put into “our” house. Holding onto the house is a symbol that we’re still Americans – residents, homeowners, caring citizens. Owning the house means we can get mail and vote and complain about the government and care about the school system.
Without it, we’re just nomads. Crazy wanderers who never put down roots and instead continually search for adventure. Which, come to think of it, isn’t all that bad…
But after a lot of soul-searching today, I finally stumbled upon the real reason. We can’t emotionally deal with selling the house. Selling is so final. Selling means moving not just relocating. Selling our house and living in another one means that our home would be there and not here. It would mean that if we come back, we’d never again be able to enjoy all the hard work we put into “our” house. Holding onto the house is a symbol that we’re still Americans – residents, homeowners, caring citizens. Owning the house means we can get mail and vote and complain about the government and care about the school system.
Without it, we’re just nomads. Crazy wanderers who never put down roots and instead continually search for adventure. Which, come to think of it, isn’t all that bad…
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
13 books
So today I stopped by the biblioteca (library). The plan was to “just browse” in order to delay the inevitable return to a lonely, empty house. I didn’t even bring my totebag. Minutes later, I was struggling to carry 13 tomes to my car without dropping any!
It won’t be surprising to anyone if I finish all of those, and more, before leaving for Mexico.
Mexico – how will I find so many books in Mexico?
None of this quick errand will be able to happen there. Without a car, I won’t casually “stop by” anywhere. There will be no cozy libraries full of interesting and diverse people and equally interesting and diverse stories. There will be no easy way to pick up a dozen or so books, or scan a few magazines, or make small talk. Even though books, and magazines, and friendly people will be available, all of those stories will happen in a foreign language.
And for someone who loves stories so much, it will be hard to adjust.
It won’t be surprising to anyone if I finish all of those, and more, before leaving for Mexico.
Mexico – how will I find so many books in Mexico?
None of this quick errand will be able to happen there. Without a car, I won’t casually “stop by” anywhere. There will be no cozy libraries full of interesting and diverse people and equally interesting and diverse stories. There will be no easy way to pick up a dozen or so books, or scan a few magazines, or make small talk. Even though books, and magazines, and friendly people will be available, all of those stories will happen in a foreign language.
And for someone who loves stories so much, it will be hard to adjust.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Bye, Dave
It is unusual to begin any story with a farewell, but that is how some of the most interesting adventures start.
After a weekend spent living multiple personalities, alternately desiring the clock to speed up or slow down, the morning still came.
At 4:30am, everything changed. For Dave at least. Because he is now in Mexico, not as a traveler or tourist, but as a resident. He will spend the next days and weeks making a life for us there. And while I'm trying to convince many people that little in my life has changed, it seems that I'll have to convince myself first. The silence in the house speaks volumes. For each moment of silence is another moment closer to the next farewell:
Good-bye, family.
Good-bye, community.
Good-bye, America.
Of course, this adventure is but one chapter in an ever-evolving saga, but it is shaping up to be more intriguing, more challenging, more suspenseful, and more purposeful than we planned.
And while it is unusual to begin with good-bye, I hope to continue the story until the greeting when we return.
Hello, home.
After a weekend spent living multiple personalities, alternately desiring the clock to speed up or slow down, the morning still came.
At 4:30am, everything changed. For Dave at least. Because he is now in Mexico, not as a traveler or tourist, but as a resident. He will spend the next days and weeks making a life for us there. And while I'm trying to convince many people that little in my life has changed, it seems that I'll have to convince myself first. The silence in the house speaks volumes. For each moment of silence is another moment closer to the next farewell:
Good-bye, family.
Good-bye, community.
Good-bye, America.
Of course, this adventure is but one chapter in an ever-evolving saga, but it is shaping up to be more intriguing, more challenging, more suspenseful, and more purposeful than we planned.
And while it is unusual to begin with good-bye, I hope to continue the story until the greeting when we return.
Hello, home.
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