Hi...
My turtle is really, really cute. He has some pretty funny stories too. One was when my mom tried to feed him a snail. I guess when a snail is going to be eaten, it puts out extra slime. So when my turtle tried to eat it, he got slimed and started wiping his face with his "hands" and tonight he was sleeping, and I had to move his tank ---- and when he moved, he yawned and then opened and closed his mouth a few times and was still asleep. He did eat a worm, though. I love him and I am still looking for a name.
San Miguel is really fun. I made two friends and they are really nice. There is only one 4th grade class, and there are only 10 people in it, including me. We have to sing in the morning in Spanish and English, and we exercise everyday. My movement teacher isn't really good at English so she says "Fall the leaves, die the flowers" instead of "the leaves fall and the flowers die". She is ordering us all ballet shoes -- INCLUDING THE BOYS! She didn't even inform our parents (although I told my mom so I would get the right shoe size)
My Spanish teacher is really cool. Her name is Maelle. She has a calico cat. She thought that it would be easier for me if we had a cooking class. We made desserts.
I have to go to bed now. Daddy is away in Colorado, and I have been helping Mommy.
Buenos Noches,
Jessica
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Dating....
Keith and I look at making friends as a couple kind of like dating ..... we meet another couple, and we enjoy their company. We'd like to be friends. We try the "exploratory first date" --- go out to dinner, a family activity if they have kids, a lunch, or something else fun. Get to know them. One on one, together, all of us as a group. Then Keith and I regroup. Can we date them? Can we be friends? Can I hang with her without Keith?..... Can Keith enjoy him without me?..... Even more important... do we think they like us? Were we funny, or did we just think we were funny? (important question that we never really know the answer to) Could this be a serious relationship, or is it just a superficial one, because our kids are the same age, etc., etc. ... for the sake of the kids?
Not really a "joking" matter, when you have just moved to a new country, and are making new friends that are shaping what your life is going to be for the next year... and likely beyond that. These are the friends that we will laugh with, dine with, confide in, trust, that will trust you (hopefully), cook for (still working on that oven thing), ask advice of, and so much more.....
This is a slow process. You have to put yourself "out there" and take that risk ---- just like real dating. You might like someone that isn't really interested in being friends. Someone might dissappoint you. Or maybe you aren't as funny as you think you are. Or --- you might make a great friend that will be around for a long, long time. Wouldn't that be cool?
So far, Keith and I have been lucky. We've made some pretty fun and cool friends that we both enjoy. As long as we keep thinking that they think we are funny.....
Mary
Not really a "joking" matter, when you have just moved to a new country, and are making new friends that are shaping what your life is going to be for the next year... and likely beyond that. These are the friends that we will laugh with, dine with, confide in, trust, that will trust you (hopefully), cook for (still working on that oven thing), ask advice of, and so much more.....
This is a slow process. You have to put yourself "out there" and take that risk ---- just like real dating. You might like someone that isn't really interested in being friends. Someone might dissappoint you. Or maybe you aren't as funny as you think you are. Or --- you might make a great friend that will be around for a long, long time. Wouldn't that be cool?
So far, Keith and I have been lucky. We've made some pretty fun and cool friends that we both enjoy. As long as we keep thinking that they think we are funny.....
Mary
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Our new family member
No, Momo, GrandBob, Bubbe and Papa -- I am not pregnant. We have adopted a new turtle. Jessica has, actually. "He" (not sure how you tell) is not too much bigger than a silver dollar, and Jessica can't think of a name for him (feel free to make suggestions below by clicking on "comments" and she will be sure to get them). She considered names from her current favorite series - Harry Potter -- but none seemed to fit.
So "Tortuga" wades happily in his pink plastic pond with an island and a palm tree. He has a dissolving calcium turtle shaped friend to help his shell grow. He goes to bed early, and likes the sunlight. Pretty typical. I think Jessica likes to talk to him when she gets sent to her room for normal pre-adolescent, 9 year old stuff. She comes out of her room in a much better mood. We can only hope!!
As I am sitting here, he is bobbing his head up out of the water and blinking at me from the patio, and through the window. I think he is saying "Hola" to you all, and would like you to come visit us!!
By the way -- Hurricane Dean was nothing more than a cloudy day with a few sprinkles, and then a chilly night. Not even a brown-out!!!
If you sign onto www.skype.com for free, you can see and talk to us fro free on your computer! My name is mary.b.lewis, and Keith is klewistp. Otherwise -- come visit in person!!!!
XO - Mary
So "Tortuga" wades happily in his pink plastic pond with an island and a palm tree. He has a dissolving calcium turtle shaped friend to help his shell grow. He goes to bed early, and likes the sunlight. Pretty typical. I think Jessica likes to talk to him when she gets sent to her room for normal pre-adolescent, 9 year old stuff. She comes out of her room in a much better mood. We can only hope!!
As I am sitting here, he is bobbing his head up out of the water and blinking at me from the patio, and through the window. I think he is saying "Hola" to you all, and would like you to come visit us!!
By the way -- Hurricane Dean was nothing more than a cloudy day with a few sprinkles, and then a chilly night. Not even a brown-out!!!
If you sign onto www.skype.com for free, you can see and talk to us fro free on your computer! My name is mary.b.lewis, and Keith is klewistp. Otherwise -- come visit in person!!!!
XO - Mary
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
"MOMMY BLEW UP THE OVEN!!"
It was a sunny morning like most of the other mornings we had had our first week here in San Miguel. Jessica, Jacob and Jason were playing in the front garden -- soccer, I think. Keith and I were trying to coax them into a new routine of "responsibilities" (otherwise known as chores). A lot of them are different here --- we hang the clothes on the line to dry, we wash the dishes by hand, and then have let them air-dry, we have to fill water bottles for the bathrooms for brushing teeth and drinking, etc. The kids are still excited about doing them (We give it another few days!)
Jacob's assistance is coming in handy helping me with breakfast this morning. Keith jumps in the shower, leaving me to tend to the gas stove and oven. I don't have a lot of experience in this area... and Keith has been helping out in the kitchen a lot.. so I haven't yet been on my own to handle this situation. But, I've watched him, and received a tutorial, so I'm not worried. There is no pilot light on these old stoves, so everything is hand-lit. I manage through bacon and eggs -- working with 7 year old Jacob like my father used to work with me --- turning the bacon, and scrambling the eggs. We are having some nice one-on-one time. I have some large store-bought muffins that I want to heat up -- and I go to light the oven. The main flame lights, but the rest of the burner does not. I turn off the oven. In a few minutes, the main flame goes out. I wait, then I try again. Same thing. I back up, and stare at it -- puzzled. I know I did everything right. I tell Jake to back up, and I try again. Same thing. I give up and figure Keith can light it when he comes down and close the oven door.
BOOM!!!!!!! The oven door flies open, and the stove knobs fly off of the stove.
"MOMMY BLEW UP THE OVEN!!! D-A-A-A-A-A-D-D-Y-Y-Y-Y"
My best guess is that there is a small pilot light in the deep recesses of that creepy old gas thing, and it must have still been lit, and the oven was full of gas, that lit when I closed the door. Whatever the case, Keith is now the head chef in the family.
No one was hurt in the slightest, it took us 5 minutes to located the stove knobs, Keith swears the house shook and he felt it upstairs, and Jacob and I are both afraid of the oven. Breakfast, however, was awesome!
Mary
Jacob's assistance is coming in handy helping me with breakfast this morning. Keith jumps in the shower, leaving me to tend to the gas stove and oven. I don't have a lot of experience in this area... and Keith has been helping out in the kitchen a lot.. so I haven't yet been on my own to handle this situation. But, I've watched him, and received a tutorial, so I'm not worried. There is no pilot light on these old stoves, so everything is hand-lit. I manage through bacon and eggs -- working with 7 year old Jacob like my father used to work with me --- turning the bacon, and scrambling the eggs. We are having some nice one-on-one time. I have some large store-bought muffins that I want to heat up -- and I go to light the oven. The main flame lights, but the rest of the burner does not. I turn off the oven. In a few minutes, the main flame goes out. I wait, then I try again. Same thing. I back up, and stare at it -- puzzled. I know I did everything right. I tell Jake to back up, and I try again. Same thing. I give up and figure Keith can light it when he comes down and close the oven door.
BOOM!!!!!!! The oven door flies open, and the stove knobs fly off of the stove.
"MOMMY BLEW UP THE OVEN!!! D-A-A-A-A-A-D-D-Y-Y-Y-Y"
My best guess is that there is a small pilot light in the deep recesses of that creepy old gas thing, and it must have still been lit, and the oven was full of gas, that lit when I closed the door. Whatever the case, Keith is now the head chef in the family.
No one was hurt in the slightest, it took us 5 minutes to located the stove knobs, Keith swears the house shook and he felt it upstairs, and Jacob and I are both afraid of the oven. Breakfast, however, was awesome!
Mary
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Are you attached to the car NOW? - Real Mexicans
OK, more car stories....
It was Monday, a week ago, about 4:30pm. Miguel, the gardener that visits twice a week, motions to me to follow him out the front door to the street. I was sitting on the front patio talking with Mary and a young woman about our kids being mentored in Spanish. I walk through the garden the 15 yards from the patio to the door that goes out to the street.
As in most colonial Mexican towns, a large wall makes up the front facade of our house and is attached to every other neighbors front wall. What lies behind the doors in these walls varies as much as the different pastel colors used to paint them. Behind some doors is the grand entrance hall to the house. Others lead you right into the living room. Ours leads you into the garden, our largest outdoor area that you walk through to get to the actual house.
As Miguel and I walk out the door, I see that our passenger side window in the van is shattered. Miguel says he thinks it happened in the last half hour, although none of us heard it through the 2 foot thick walls that make up the facade. We check the car and nothing was taken. I was a little freaked then. Some Mexican teen was bustin' out windows of gringo cars with big fat Texas license plates to make a point. "We don't like you here." But we accepted our fate. Hey, it happens. People break windows. Maybe it was an accident. I had parked a little close to the wall. Maybe some young kid threw a rock and it ricocheted off the wall.
Tuesday we decided to report it to the police. We should have done it immediately on Monday, we came to realize later. Guess we didn't want to make a big deal of it. When we called Tuesday, the police were quick to respond. 2-3 policia cars showed up to check out the scene and were a bit disappointed to hear that the crime had happened yesterday. They took our information and told us to call a little quicker next time and maybe they could have done something about it.
Wednesday we head out of the house to go for a walk and I ask Mary to grab the camera. "Where is it?" Hmmm... last time we were taking pictures was.... when we were in the CAR! Oh, no! We had left the digital camera sitting out in plain sight! That is what they busted out the window for. Strangely, I felt much better! It wasn't an act of hate, but more of desperation. And, hey, my next door neighbor in Austin had his truck broken into right there in his driveway about a month ago. He had left a valuable in plain sight as well. And packages at Christmas-time get stolen out of vehicles in our Austin neighborhood frequent enough to create a neighborhood email alert.
So I'm still unhappy about the loss of our pictures from the first part of our adventure and the inconvenience of having to replace the camera and the window. But now I felt like it wasn't personal.
Fast forward to Friday. Jacob and I are driving up Ancho San Antonio road to shop at the Mega grocery store. I needed to stop to drop off a check to a new friend for a violin purchase (Jess is required to take violin at school this year.) As parking was unavailable in front of his office, I decided to pull in just behind the loading truck that was parked halfway up on the sidewalk and halfway into the street. This is how it is done in San Miguel. Pull up, put your flashers on, and everyone will go around you. No worries! Phil was in the doorway on the phone anyway, so it would only take a moment. I told Jake to stay in his seat and I'd be right back.
I get out of the car and 5 seconds later as I walk towards Phil I hear a "crunch!" I turn around to see that the truck had backed into the van and bent the hood right were the hood latch is. Damn it! I parked too close behind him and he backed up without seeing me! I ran back around and the driver of the truck met me at the point of collision. He had a sheepish smile on his face and I was pissed that he had backed into me. I tried to ascertain what he thought had happened but my Spanish in the arena was limited. Phil came out to see what happened. He was offering me a few pieces of advice on how to handle this.
I got back in the van and backed it up to survey the damage. Jake said something to me but in my fury it didn't register. Back to the crunch site I went and tried to lift my hood but I couldn't get enough pressure on the latch because of the dent. Phil's assistant came out to help translate. She said that the driver claimed to have not backed up. That he was sitting there and I hit him! I wasn't even in the car when it happened! How could I have hit HIM!??!
And then it hit ME! I had a senior moment. When I got out of the car the first time, I had neglected to put the car in park! So as I exited, the car slowly rolled forward into the truck. Jacob was trying to ask me why I "pushed" the car into the truck. He thought I got out to push it from behind. I went back to the car to confirm this with Jacob. "Yeah, Dad, you hit HIM."
I felt like dirt. I apologized to the friendly and sheepish grinning young man. I was so sorry for jumping to that conclusion.
The whole time at the Mega I felt like throwing up. I hated myself.
The car has now become my symbol for self inflicted wounds. The door scratch, the broken window, the hood. I'd blame Mexico but I really only have myself to blame.
The best part came when I got home. Mary consoled me and rode with me up the street a half a block to a car paint shop. I asked the guy if he could look at the hood and does he or someone he know do this type of work. He stopped doing what he was doing, took a look, and called over to his colleague. "Bring me a ------". I didn't know the Spanish word. His friend brings over a crowbar. He forces the crowbar under the hood and with some loud metallic cracks and pops, he gets the hood latch to release. He calls over again, "Bring me a -----." Over comes a big hammer. He puts the hood back down, gives it a look and BANG! BAM! BAM! BAM! I look at Mary. She looks at me. They were both the same look. "He's beating the crap out of our hood!" BAM! BANG! BANG! "Bring over a ----." Over comes a curved metal block-like piece that he places under the hood. WHACK! with the hammer onto the hood over this piece of metal. BANG, BANG! He was doing to our car what I wanted to be doing. Just beating it! It was almost a cathartic sound. A few more whacks later and viola! The hood sat down on the car just like it was supposed to! OK, so the edge of it has a few hammer dents. But it had dents in it anyway from me!
How much, I said. OH, nothing, he said. No problema. Let me give you something. He said, OK, 50 pesos (about $4.60). I gave him twice that and thanked him and his friend for their time. I hope to see you again, I said. As a neighbor, though, and not a customer. He smiled and said, stop by anytime.
It was Monday, a week ago, about 4:30pm. Miguel, the gardener that visits twice a week, motions to me to follow him out the front door to the street. I was sitting on the front patio talking with Mary and a young woman about our kids being mentored in Spanish. I walk through the garden the 15 yards from the patio to the door that goes out to the street.
As in most colonial Mexican towns, a large wall makes up the front facade of our house and is attached to every other neighbors front wall. What lies behind the doors in these walls varies as much as the different pastel colors used to paint them. Behind some doors is the grand entrance hall to the house. Others lead you right into the living room. Ours leads you into the garden, our largest outdoor area that you walk through to get to the actual house.
As Miguel and I walk out the door, I see that our passenger side window in the van is shattered. Miguel says he thinks it happened in the last half hour, although none of us heard it through the 2 foot thick walls that make up the facade. We check the car and nothing was taken. I was a little freaked then. Some Mexican teen was bustin' out windows of gringo cars with big fat Texas license plates to make a point. "We don't like you here." But we accepted our fate. Hey, it happens. People break windows. Maybe it was an accident. I had parked a little close to the wall. Maybe some young kid threw a rock and it ricocheted off the wall.
Tuesday we decided to report it to the police. We should have done it immediately on Monday, we came to realize later. Guess we didn't want to make a big deal of it. When we called Tuesday, the police were quick to respond. 2-3 policia cars showed up to check out the scene and were a bit disappointed to hear that the crime had happened yesterday. They took our information and told us to call a little quicker next time and maybe they could have done something about it.
Wednesday we head out of the house to go for a walk and I ask Mary to grab the camera. "Where is it?" Hmmm... last time we were taking pictures was.... when we were in the CAR! Oh, no! We had left the digital camera sitting out in plain sight! That is what they busted out the window for. Strangely, I felt much better! It wasn't an act of hate, but more of desperation. And, hey, my next door neighbor in Austin had his truck broken into right there in his driveway about a month ago. He had left a valuable in plain sight as well. And packages at Christmas-time get stolen out of vehicles in our Austin neighborhood frequent enough to create a neighborhood email alert.
So I'm still unhappy about the loss of our pictures from the first part of our adventure and the inconvenience of having to replace the camera and the window. But now I felt like it wasn't personal.
Fast forward to Friday. Jacob and I are driving up Ancho San Antonio road to shop at the Mega grocery store. I needed to stop to drop off a check to a new friend for a violin purchase (Jess is required to take violin at school this year.) As parking was unavailable in front of his office, I decided to pull in just behind the loading truck that was parked halfway up on the sidewalk and halfway into the street. This is how it is done in San Miguel. Pull up, put your flashers on, and everyone will go around you. No worries! Phil was in the doorway on the phone anyway, so it would only take a moment. I told Jake to stay in his seat and I'd be right back.
I get out of the car and 5 seconds later as I walk towards Phil I hear a "crunch!" I turn around to see that the truck had backed into the van and bent the hood right were the hood latch is. Damn it! I parked too close behind him and he backed up without seeing me! I ran back around and the driver of the truck met me at the point of collision. He had a sheepish smile on his face and I was pissed that he had backed into me. I tried to ascertain what he thought had happened but my Spanish in the arena was limited. Phil came out to see what happened. He was offering me a few pieces of advice on how to handle this.
I got back in the van and backed it up to survey the damage. Jake said something to me but in my fury it didn't register. Back to the crunch site I went and tried to lift my hood but I couldn't get enough pressure on the latch because of the dent. Phil's assistant came out to help translate. She said that the driver claimed to have not backed up. That he was sitting there and I hit him! I wasn't even in the car when it happened! How could I have hit HIM!??!
And then it hit ME! I had a senior moment. When I got out of the car the first time, I had neglected to put the car in park! So as I exited, the car slowly rolled forward into the truck. Jacob was trying to ask me why I "pushed" the car into the truck. He thought I got out to push it from behind. I went back to the car to confirm this with Jacob. "Yeah, Dad, you hit HIM."
I felt like dirt. I apologized to the friendly and sheepish grinning young man. I was so sorry for jumping to that conclusion.
The whole time at the Mega I felt like throwing up. I hated myself.
The car has now become my symbol for self inflicted wounds. The door scratch, the broken window, the hood. I'd blame Mexico but I really only have myself to blame.
The best part came when I got home. Mary consoled me and rode with me up the street a half a block to a car paint shop. I asked the guy if he could look at the hood and does he or someone he know do this type of work. He stopped doing what he was doing, took a look, and called over to his colleague. "Bring me a ------". I didn't know the Spanish word. His friend brings over a crowbar. He forces the crowbar under the hood and with some loud metallic cracks and pops, he gets the hood latch to release. He calls over again, "Bring me a -----." Over comes a big hammer. He puts the hood back down, gives it a look and BANG! BAM! BAM! BAM! I look at Mary. She looks at me. They were both the same look. "He's beating the crap out of our hood!" BAM! BANG! BANG! "Bring over a ----." Over comes a curved metal block-like piece that he places under the hood. WHACK! with the hammer onto the hood over this piece of metal. BANG, BANG! He was doing to our car what I wanted to be doing. Just beating it! It was almost a cathartic sound. A few more whacks later and viola! The hood sat down on the car just like it was supposed to! OK, so the edge of it has a few hammer dents. But it had dents in it anyway from me!
How much, I said. OH, nothing, he said. No problema. Let me give you something. He said, OK, 50 pesos (about $4.60). I gave him twice that and thanked him and his friend for their time. I hope to see you again, I said. As a neighbor, though, and not a customer. He smiled and said, stop by anytime.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Primera Post de SMA from KDL
Hola! We are sitting on our roof of our home in San Miguel de Allende (SMA) watching our first of many nights of fireworks. Why are they shooting off fireworks? We have no idea. But this is the first set of pretty ones, sparkly ones, the colorful ones. As Mary has posted, about every night or morning or mid afternoon or whenever you can hear a cannon type firework go off.
It is lovely up here. About 64 degrees F and clear, with quite a number of stars visible. I'm glad we're here.
I've viewed this adventure with the analogy of a gearshift moving from 5th to 1st. I can hear the RPMs slowly rev down as time literally slows. Realistically, I'm not quite down to 4th gear yet. But I can feel it coming. How do I know? 2 signs already.
1- On my first trip to the Mega grocery store I took a right onto Ancho San Antonio street and cut the corner too short. There is a way that the San Miguelians let you know when you've cut a corner too close. They put a 8" tall cornerstone on top of the 10" cobblestone curb at the corner. So when you cut it close, you hear this quite audible scraping noise against your what-used-to-be automatic sliding door. And you think to yourself, if I just accelerate through it, the noise will go away. And it does.
Normally, my thought may have been, "Damn it! I've scratched the car. How much will that cost to bang out and retouch?" But this time it was, "Well, there we go. I've got my first of many scratches on the car." And later, it became a bit deeper. "Why am I so attached to a car anyway? It's a car. It still runs. The door actually still works." I like this non-attachment stuff... at least so far as I dip my toe in the water.
On our first trip down here, we had barely left Austin when we heard something scraping the ground as we drove. It was a plastic cover just behind the front bumper that I suppose helps to protect the undercarriage. Our fix? A bungee cord. YES! Our car is ready for Mexico!
2- I had an important call with a client scheduled at 9am this morning. I awoke to a brown-out. Remember those? It's when you flip on a light and the little filament says, "Dude, I don't got no energy for this." So your 100w bulb glows like it's struggling to put out 10w. Well that's what it was. What did that mean? It meant my internet was down. It also meant my Vonage phone was down. So I had no way to be reached or reach my client. (My US cell phone doesn't work down here.) Luckily, Mary had her blackberry, which, interestingly enough, works very well down here. So Mary shot off a quick message to my client hoping to reschedule. He got it and was flexible enough to move the meeting to the afternoon. He's also traveled to and lived in places that experience brown outs as well. So once I noticed the blood pressure in my body dropping, Mary said, "Well, let's go out for breakfast!" And we walked until we saw a place with electricity and waffles on the menu. It only took about 4 blocks.
When you talk to the local gringos about brown-outs, they go, "Yeah, it only happens about every week or two. And usually only lasts an hour or so. Maybe a day. Usually after a thunderstorm, though. But... yeah, it was blue sky today, wasn't it? And sometimes it happens for no reason at all. A construction worker down the road may be welding and tap into a line or something. I had a brown-out downstairs but full power upstairs one time." How the hell does THAT work?
The kids are having fun. Jason loves to yell "HOLA!" to passing cars in the street. Jessica is practicing her Spanish with Lucha, a babysitter that is shorter than she is. And Jacob was running around the Jardin (main square) tonight kicking around an ice cube like a soccer ball with some local teenagers.
We've given some great tours of our house to our parents via Skype or iChat. Let us know if you'd like a virtual tour.... or even a real live tour!
More later... and we'll figure out how to add some pictures as well.
Hasta luego, amigos!
It is lovely up here. About 64 degrees F and clear, with quite a number of stars visible. I'm glad we're here.
I've viewed this adventure with the analogy of a gearshift moving from 5th to 1st. I can hear the RPMs slowly rev down as time literally slows. Realistically, I'm not quite down to 4th gear yet. But I can feel it coming. How do I know? 2 signs already.
1- On my first trip to the Mega grocery store I took a right onto Ancho San Antonio street and cut the corner too short. There is a way that the San Miguelians let you know when you've cut a corner too close. They put a 8" tall cornerstone on top of the 10" cobblestone curb at the corner. So when you cut it close, you hear this quite audible scraping noise against your what-used-to-be automatic sliding door. And you think to yourself, if I just accelerate through it, the noise will go away. And it does.
Normally, my thought may have been, "Damn it! I've scratched the car. How much will that cost to bang out and retouch?" But this time it was, "Well, there we go. I've got my first of many scratches on the car." And later, it became a bit deeper. "Why am I so attached to a car anyway? It's a car. It still runs. The door actually still works." I like this non-attachment stuff... at least so far as I dip my toe in the water.
On our first trip down here, we had barely left Austin when we heard something scraping the ground as we drove. It was a plastic cover just behind the front bumper that I suppose helps to protect the undercarriage. Our fix? A bungee cord. YES! Our car is ready for Mexico!
2- I had an important call with a client scheduled at 9am this morning. I awoke to a brown-out. Remember those? It's when you flip on a light and the little filament says, "Dude, I don't got no energy for this." So your 100w bulb glows like it's struggling to put out 10w. Well that's what it was. What did that mean? It meant my internet was down. It also meant my Vonage phone was down. So I had no way to be reached or reach my client. (My US cell phone doesn't work down here.) Luckily, Mary had her blackberry, which, interestingly enough, works very well down here. So Mary shot off a quick message to my client hoping to reschedule. He got it and was flexible enough to move the meeting to the afternoon. He's also traveled to and lived in places that experience brown outs as well. So once I noticed the blood pressure in my body dropping, Mary said, "Well, let's go out for breakfast!" And we walked until we saw a place with electricity and waffles on the menu. It only took about 4 blocks.
When you talk to the local gringos about brown-outs, they go, "Yeah, it only happens about every week or two. And usually only lasts an hour or so. Maybe a day. Usually after a thunderstorm, though. But... yeah, it was blue sky today, wasn't it? And sometimes it happens for no reason at all. A construction worker down the road may be welding and tap into a line or something. I had a brown-out downstairs but full power upstairs one time." How the hell does THAT work?
The kids are having fun. Jason loves to yell "HOLA!" to passing cars in the street. Jessica is practicing her Spanish with Lucha, a babysitter that is shorter than she is. And Jacob was running around the Jardin (main square) tonight kicking around an ice cube like a soccer ball with some local teenagers.
We've given some great tours of our house to our parents via Skype or iChat. Let us know if you'd like a virtual tour.... or even a real live tour!
More later... and we'll figure out how to add some pictures as well.
Hasta luego, amigos!
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Apprendare - To Learn
We are just beginning...
We haven't even been here a week, but have already settled in. Okay - so we only had to unpack the car and buy enough groceries to fill up the refridgerator only slightly larger than the one I had in college... but we had to do it in MEXICO. It was just the littlest things that puzzled us, like:
1. Every one of doors and windows inside and outside of our home has a different kind of latch, lock, and opening mechanism
2. The microwave is all in Spanish, and the quick set buttons are "popcorn, tacos, tortillas..." (not in that order)
3. When driving behind another vehicle, a left turn blinker can mean either "go ahead and pass me on the left, it's clear", or the usual, "I'm turning left." Not a good idea to misinterperet that one on a 2 lane highway.
4. Teaching your kids that they need to tell you if there is a bathroom attendant so you can give them some pesos so they will get toilet paper.
5. 9-1-1 is now 0-6-6 (having drilled that one into my little ones' heads since birth, we are switchin it up on 'em)
6. Fireworks every morning between 5-6 am. Something about a combination of old Indian superstitions combined with religious beliefs that bad things or evil spirits or souls or death or something like that needs to be scared away before dawn in order for the day to be good. We'll figure that out.
7. Big bugs (I will not be afraid, I will not be afraid, I will not be afraid)
8. The grocery store: bacon is sliced and sold at the deli counter, eggs are in produce, the FDA nutrutional information chart is not a requirement, they have green stamps (remember those -- you could get silverware and stuff??)
9. Websites automatically load in Spanish. "Not really" you say --- but if I type in "www.google.com" -- I get "www.google.com.mx/" -- I'm sure there is a fix... we'll get to it manana
10. They have a different word for EVERYTHING (a la Steve Martin) (well.. except for pizza, hot dog and no)
Beyond the obvious changes above, our time together as a family has been an adventure for us. At various times this week each of us has felt sad to leave, nervous about going, excited, and hopeful. We've had some other emotions thrown in for grins (some car scuffles, some exhaustion) -- but I have watched our family grow a little bit this week as we have spent this time together.
Adios!! Mary
We haven't even been here a week, but have already settled in. Okay - so we only had to unpack the car and buy enough groceries to fill up the refridgerator only slightly larger than the one I had in college... but we had to do it in MEXICO. It was just the littlest things that puzzled us, like:
1. Every one of doors and windows inside and outside of our home has a different kind of latch, lock, and opening mechanism
2. The microwave is all in Spanish, and the quick set buttons are "popcorn, tacos, tortillas..." (not in that order)
3. When driving behind another vehicle, a left turn blinker can mean either "go ahead and pass me on the left, it's clear", or the usual, "I'm turning left." Not a good idea to misinterperet that one on a 2 lane highway.
4. Teaching your kids that they need to tell you if there is a bathroom attendant so you can give them some pesos so they will get toilet paper.
5. 9-1-1 is now 0-6-6 (having drilled that one into my little ones' heads since birth, we are switchin it up on 'em)
6. Fireworks every morning between 5-6 am. Something about a combination of old Indian superstitions combined with religious beliefs that bad things or evil spirits or souls or death or something like that needs to be scared away before dawn in order for the day to be good. We'll figure that out.
7. Big bugs (I will not be afraid, I will not be afraid, I will not be afraid)
8. The grocery store: bacon is sliced and sold at the deli counter, eggs are in produce, the FDA nutrutional information chart is not a requirement, they have green stamps (remember those -- you could get silverware and stuff??)
9. Websites automatically load in Spanish. "Not really" you say --- but if I type in "www.google.com" -- I get "www.google.com.mx/" -- I'm sure there is a fix... we'll get to it manana
10. They have a different word for EVERYTHING (a la Steve Martin) (well.. except for pizza, hot dog and no)
Beyond the obvious changes above, our time together as a family has been an adventure for us. At various times this week each of us has felt sad to leave, nervous about going, excited, and hopeful. We've had some other emotions thrown in for grins (some car scuffles, some exhaustion) -- but I have watched our family grow a little bit this week as we have spent this time together.
Adios!! Mary
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