Dear everyone,
People here are short. I don't notice it so much in general, walking down the street, but there are some occasions when it's very disconcerting. It's most noticeable in the architecture, when I walk into a building, and discover that the doorways are all a foot shorter than they should be, or when I bump my head on the roof of a vendor's booth, when I walk into a public bathroom and discover that I can see into all of the stalls, or when the gardeners carefully trim back overhanging branches so that they smack me in the forehead. And I really noticed it when I went to church, and, standing in the midst of a sea of people, I realized that I was the tallest one there. Weird...
I think the fact that they all fast 18 hours a day might have something to do with it.
Sunday morning I went to a couple of museums: the modern art museum, which was very interesting (I especially liked the trees made out of saws and bicycle parts), and the Casa de Benito Juarez, which wasn't - except for public restrooms, it didn't have much to offer. All the museums are free to foreigners on Sundays though, so it's a good time to check them out. After, I met my host family at the cathedral for mass. It was very different from the other church I went to, mostly because of the locale, and the fact that there was a bishop presiding. The incense burners were the smokiest I've ever seen - I kept wondering if the fire alarms were going to go off, or what they would do if there was a real fire. All the churches in the area follow the same program, so the service itself wasn't much different from the other one I visited. The kids sitting next to me were the ADDest I've ever seen - they kept crawling under the pews, and over them while everyone else was standing or kneeling in prayer, asking their mom questions, and trying to pull the tapestries off the walls. About half way through the service, one starting moaning 'Ayudeme, ayudeme' (help me, help me). Afterwards, we watched part of an outdoor concert at the zocolo (town square/park) next to the cathedral. My host dad got his shoes shined, and I got pooped on by a pigeon. They're not very polite. That's the second time it's happened since I arrived in Oaxaca.
I had a bit of trouble this week, dealing with the Mexican bureaucracy. When I first arrived in Oaxaca, they stamped my passport and gave me a little receipt-looking thing. Thinking it was just a receipt, naturally I threw it away when I got home, with the rest of my trash. Then, when I went to the instituto the next day, the woman debriefing us told us to make sure we had our tourist cards stamped for the right number of days. 'Tourist card...?' Uh-oh. I went home, and discovered that the trash can in my room had been emptied. My tourist card was gone. So, I went to the main trash can in the house, and, after about ten minutes rooting through banana peels and egg shells, I was (fortunately) able to find my tourist card. Unfortunately, it was only valid for 30 days, and I needed it for 60. I'm not sure how they decided that that was how long I was going to be in the country, since they never asked me. Anyway, there is a procedure for getting a tourist card extended for more time, but it's rather complicated. First, I had to go to the tourist office (shelf). It went something like this:
'First, we'll need photocopies of both sides of your current tourist card.'
'All right.'
'Then, we'll need photocopies of every page of your passport.'
'All right.'
'And credit card statements to prove that you can afford to stay in the country for another month.'
'All right.'
'Copies of your flight information, to prove that you're leaving when you say you are.'
'All right.'
'And fill out these forms.'
'All right.'
'And you'll have to pay a 210 peso fee.'
'All right. Do I pay that to you?'
'No, you'll have to go to the military bank to pay.'
'All right. Can you show me where that is on my map?'
'No, it's not on your map. It's at the army base, a half-hour drive out of town. You can get a bus here, at the edge of your map. When you pay, have them stamp all three copies of this form, then come back here, and we'll check off the rest of your paperwork, and have you fill out more forms.'
'Aaaaaaaaaaall right...'
Anyway, it actually turned out to be easier than it could have been, except that I had to wait a long time in line at the army bank, surrounded by short people with big guns. I'm hoping I don't have any more bureaucratic hassles in my time here.
Last week, there were two people in my Spanish class (meaning that the Spanish magazine we had started the previous week kind of fell apart). The other girl in my class is from Japan, and speaks Japanese, Chinese, English, Spanish, French, and Italian. All three of my intercambios were between tri and pentlingual too. I'm such a failure.
For cooking class, the first day we went to a big market place, to learn about different ingredients. We got free samples of a lot of them, including ice cream. I decided to try the mango-chile flavor. This was not among my better decisions. The next day, we made champurrado (like hot chocolate, but made out of home-made corn milk (atole)), memelas (like mini-pizzas, but with beans, salsa, and cheese), and tamales (tamales). Unfortunately, the course was only one week this session, instead of the usual two, and next week they're going to start over, doing the same recipes. So, I decided to sign up for Mexican history for the next session, then do cooking again afterwards, so I can learn how to make mole (the sauce, not the small burrowing mammal).
I hope you're all doing well,
Hasta luego,
Nathan
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