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It has rained for two days, lightly and with persistence. Once last week, it pounded down like small fists against the earth, and the streets rose up with water to meet the fresh, full drops. There has been flooding, chilly nights and gray mornings. The locals say the wet season has arrived a few weeks early, and that I missed out on the more direct rays of summer heat. Sorry to disappoint, but I will not be returning with that gloriously bronzed skin we had all been expecting.
I am in a routine here now, with everything routines include...schedules and habits and regular times for certain happenings, etc. But more importantly: comfort. Familiarity. In fact, I have become so comfortable with this routine that I have woken more than once in the morning and not even regarded the fact that I happened to be eating breakfast in Mexico.
Speaking of breakfast, let's talk about the food. I was very sick about a week ago, for a full day, but I am not one to hold a grudge. In fact, I put the blame on the shoulders of my long-time friend Mono, who likes to introduce me to all his
other friends at any given opportunity. (These opportunities usually involve me missing a few hours of sleep, sharing a cup with another person, not taking my multi-vitamin, or really any day that ends in "y.") Either way, I'm not blaming the food; you wouldn't either. I spend so much time marveling at how happy it makes my mouth that I have little time to consider whether or not my stomach is smiling. Fresh squeezed orange juice every morning. Now, when I say "fresh squeezed" I'm not talking about Log Cabin orange juice. I'm talking about an orange, in front of me, that is cut and then squeezed, fresh, and still in front of me. I'm talking about mango and papaya, dripping with sweet color, rich white cheese, beans and fresh vegetables, homemade salsa, tortillas and fish and flavor. Flavor.
And from flavor, we are reminded of the spicy world it is here. Among other exciting events of my second week, I was witness to my first argument conducted fully in "Spanglish." To inform some of you, my host sister Daniela is 24, and her American boyfriend Chris is visiting for the month. Daniela is learning English, Chris is learning
Spanish. Her bedroom is next to mine, and walls are thin. For educational purposes only, I will share with you what I have learned about the language barrier: don't attempt to defend any strongly held opinions in a foreign language, especially when you've chosen to use the first language of the person to which you are defending yourself. To me, a person who knows Spanish better than Chris, and English better than Daniela, the fight was quite amusing. Daniela (in English): "I have never did treaten you in such a manner as so! How unjust is my condition from you!" Only their curses and swear words seem to spill with proficiency. Chris (in Spanish): "Your said words put me in the location to perform this offense, so you are guilty of course!" Let's just say, in this particular debate, there was no clear winner.
Outside the house as well, the sights and such have continued to enthrall me. Another Tuesday spent at my "volunteer program" meant touring the church in Teotitlan, visiting the markets there, and seeing the herds of sheep that provide the wool for Felipe's weaving. This Tuesday, we are set to climb the mountain that presses
Teotitlan into the valley, if Felipe's wife doesn't have the baby before then.
Yesterday we took our last group excursion, to Mitla, another area of ruins in which we were allowed to descend into now emptied tombs of Zapoteca Indians. It was warm inside, but chilling still; there are certain smells you can just never clean out of a place, and I think death is one of them.
Besides the tourist role, I've been up to typical Oaxacan youth activities as well: half-price movies at the theatre on Wednesdays, restaurants and exploring and dancing and shopping at the street markets. Kelly and Greta have proven to be wonderful companions in this search for the essence of Oaxaca, and our time spent with the greater group has been equally fulfilling.
Once again, I hope the summer is treating all of you as well as it has been treating me! Please keep praying for me if you think of it. I can only hope my time here continues to be as ideal. I miss you all and wish we could share these things together.
Love--Nat
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commonwrites
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great cultural pics
Great pics Natalie! Your writing style made me think I was there! Thanks for your description of the fresh orange juice, etc.. The fresh food in Oaxaca must be better than all the processed stuff we get here in the US. Fruits and vegetables in USA stores are treated with oxidizing chemicals such as chlorine, hyppochlorite, chlorine dioxide, peracetic acid, hydrogen peroxide and ozone in order to multiply the company's profit margin 10 fold before the food begins to decompose. Great, it looks good and fresh but it's loaded with carcinogens as a result of the process. Cancer-causing carcinogens are the very things that we eat fruit and vegetables to fight! I think that the more simple and natural the culture, the best chance exists to be healthy - and happy! Take care