Saying Goodbye

                              29 de mayo

I'm in the airport again, but this time its to come home from a life changing journey.
I know I haven't fully finished all the posts I wanted to make about my time here in Mexico, but you can be sure I will be retroactively posting (as I have been for basically this entire blog, unfortunately).

Sebastian came to the airport with me and I have just left him on the other side of security. I cried so much my eyes are stinging and I'm crying again writing about it.

It feels really weird to be leaving Mexico, it really and truly has become a second home to me and it is immensely painful to leave it behind.

I don't even think I have the words I need to describe this experience yet, and the leaving part is, right now, too hard and painful to fully process.

So I'm leaving this post short and bittersweet, and I will try and do a nice and full reflection post when I've caught up on everything else.

Maybe You Need a Little Guatemala

The Thrilling Saga

Snapchat: the wonderful little social media platform where you and your friends exchange pictures. Sometimes they're helpful and provide something called a "geofilter." Perhaps You Need a Little Guatemala is one of those.

And the moment when I caught Syd making the weirdest face goes perfectly with it.

And shout out to Sasha for the screenshot and text filter on part 2.

Here's to many more shenanigans

Catcalling

[Today's Date Here]

Latin America is a place of machismo, or masculine pride, and Mexico is no different. It is pervasive and has affected many aspects of my life while living in Puebla.
Machismo comes from the desire to protect, from the patriarchal idea that it is a man's job to protect the women in his life. Men will open doors for you, will pay for your meals, will give up seats for you on the bus. I've had hosts offer me rides to ensure that I get home safely. These may seem harmless, and they are, but there are some major downsides to machismo as well.
Like cat-calling.

Cat-Calling

to make a whistle, shout, or comment of a sexual nature to a woman passing by

i.e.

to comment on the physicality of a female-presenting human being

this can be verbal, or an action like licking your lips, moving your whole head as you scan her body

This is something I have dealt with since puberty, since my hips started to fill out and my breasts started to grow. Men have been objectifying me and commenting on me for years. At first it was just glances, but then it turned into comments. Men were commenting and objectifying the body of a girl, of a minor.
When I was younger, I thought it was a complement. I waited for when I was catcalled, appreciating that the nice men took the time out of their day to call me beautiful or pretty. I believed this because I had been taught by society that my appearance was important, if not the most important, thing about me. I was taught to appreciate that men noticed me.

And but then as I got older the comments became more objectifying, more threatening. I became hyper-aware of who was around me, who was watching me, how people were responding to me as I went about my daily life. As I grew, I realized that cat-calling is not a compliment, and it never was.

Cat-calling is not for my benefit. It is not aimed for me to feel better about myself. I already know that I look beautiful, I don't need someone else telling me. I do not require an outside validation to appreciate my own appearance, even if it was the goal of the action.
But it's not.

Cat-calling is for the benefit of the man who commits it, and for his friends and the others around him. It has nothing to do with me. I get cat-called in jeans and a sweater, I get hollered at in dresses. I could be wearing a parka and men would comment on my appearance.

I'm sick  of being oogled because I'm a woman. I'm tired of being told I'm "overreacting" or that I should "take it as a compliment." It's exhausting. It's exhausting having to constantly monitor my surroundings because I never know when a look or comment will turn into a touch or worse. I come home every day and collapse onto my bed, finally free from the prying eyes of strangers who scour my body and turn me into an object for their enjoyment, an object that exists solely for them.

Cancun

17 a 19 de marzo

Like any true college students, we hit Cancun for spring break. While some drinking did occur, we mostly just spent our one free day chilling on a beach and avoiding being in our... I don't even know what to call it.... hostel?

Honestly, we were all very uncomfortable in this airbnb. We felt the photos lied to us and everything just felt so dirty and half-assed. It probably didn't help that we arrived after dark and we were all sweaty, tired and overwhelmed. I ended up calling mom crying about how freaked out I was.

BUT we lived, and we enjoyed our time in the turquoise waters immensely. Even Sasha swam in her shorts and t-shirt. 

We started the day with some tacos-for-brunch and a couple cocktails. I found my favorite drink, Miami Vice, for the first time since leaving the resort in Mazatlan, but let me say that this one was so much better.

The tacos were delicious and light enough that I didn't feel like dying in the intense heat. The restaurant was on a sort of board walk that also had some lounge chairs they let us use since we'd eaten there. 

So we had a wonderful view of the water, there were lockers for our valuables, drinks close by, and reserved seats just for us.

Only downside was that it was also right by the bungee jumping, so the guy who was announcing kept telling us how much fun bungee jumping would be. He also teased us when we started to fall asleep. 

But on the upside, we got to see a whole bunch of people go bungee jumping.

The water was amazing. I mean, just look at that color. It was also really warm, and there weren't intense waves so it was super calming and relaxing.

The same guys who were hosting bungee jumping also had some snorkeling equipment, so Syd and I got to see some little schools of fish. The dark patches in the photo are clumps of seaweed and rocks and there were so many cute little fish that swam right past me (as in, within inches). There were fish of so many different colors and sizes, and it was absolutely magical.

Going back to the hostel while it was still light out made it a little bit more comodo, but I can safely say that checking out the next morning was such a relief. It was a sobering airbnb experience; it made me realize that while airbnbs are mostly really amazing finds, sometimes you get a dud. 

Although, it did have a really, really nice view once the sun started going down.

Guatemala Part 3: Panajachel

15 a 17 de Marzo

After we left Antigua, we went to Panajachel, a small little fishermen's town on the edge of Lake Atitlan, a stunning freshwater lake surrounded by towering mountains.

Photo above is our view from our hotel room. On our last morning we were up with the sun, so we were able to see all of the fishermen coming in from their morning work. With fresh fish coming in every morning, the seafood in Panajachel was absolutely phenomenal. 

The easiest way to get around was to take a tuk-tuk, which is basically a 3 wheeled low-power scooter with a roof, between the hotel and the town for $1 USD and some spare change.

The roads were so bumpy, I felt like my body was going to vibrate so much I'd just dissolve into a puddle of glue. Since it was so hilly, you could only safely fit 2 people into each of them because if you tried to go uphill the motor would sound like it was dying. We tried to fit 4 people into one when we were coming back from dinner. Not only did it feel like we were going to fall out the sides of the thing, but I'm pretty sure walking would have been significantly faster.

We spent a lot of time exploring the markets, getting souvenirs for ourselves, friends and family, but we also took a private boat ride across the lake to San Pedro, an adorable little town nestled into the mountainside. 
San Pedro had the distinct feel of a home, but the exact feeling is a little hard to explain. Looking at the shoreline as we pulled away in our little lancha made me miss San Juan Island in Washington. 

It was a really quick, brief, relaxing trip and I was so sad to say goodbye to this lovely, lovely, place. If any of you want to go to Guatemala, make sure to stop in at one of the towns on the shores of Lake Atitlan, it's well worth the trek out. Those views alone were worth every cent I spent on this trip.

I mean, just look at the one we had.

Popocatépetl

18 de abril

When I woke up this morning it felt colder than normal and the light quality was different.

It wasn't until I was sitting at breakfast and my phone vibrated thanks to a classmate's post to the group facebook page: the volcano is spewing ash and we should wear masks to school.

This being the first volcanic eruption I've experienced in my lifetime, I was both excited and kind of freaked out.  Popocatépetl [popokaˈtepetɬ]is about 30 miles from Puebla, which also just happens to be directly downwind from the active volcano. This is a video of the eruption from twitter:

La fase más intensa de la erupción del #Popocatépetl esta madrugada entre 2:52 am y 3:03 am. Impresionante pic.twitter.com/csHrSt4vUX

— Webcams de México (@webcamsdemexico) April 18, 2016

Syd didn't believe me that there was ash in the air. She thought it was just fog, but then we saw the footprints outside our home. La ceniza [ash] looks like a lovely light dusting of snow. That is, until a car drives by or a light gust of wind wooshes through, throws it into your face and you start coughing up a lung.

We were woefully unprepared to have to deal with an eruption so we had to improvise a method of protecting our lungs from the ash. The university was handing out free masks so we didn't have to improvise for long. I started singing Bastille's Pompeii shortly after the photo on the right was taken which prompted a lovely ¡cállete! [Shut up!] from Sydney. Ah, true friendship.

I've been making Pompeii jokes all day, even though this eruption is no where near that big of a deal. The most damage we're going to get is to engines and the lungs in people that are silly enough not to wear masks (I'm looking at you Sasha).

The only real affect this has had on me is severely dusty shoes, an overly sweaty lower face, and a mild cough. Well, and the fact that this song has been stuck in my head for the last 12 hours. 

The sunset tonight was absolutely stunning since there is a whole bunch of particles in the air. It was a brilliant glowing orange, and I could just make out the outline of the volcano through the haze.
Unfortunately, I didn't get a picture because there were too many trees in the way. 

There's periodic distant booming right now, but I'm not sure if that's actually Popocatépetl or something else.


Latino Fox News and Inverse both have articles up with more information about what happened this morning if you want more details. There's another video of the eruption below, in color, if  you want to watch it again in slow motion.

How It's Made: Coffee

14 de Marzo

On our last full day in Antigua, Guatemala my friends and I took a tour of a coffee farm in a near by pueblo with the company De La Gente, a wonderful cooperative that works with Guatemalan farmers to grow coffee sustainably, reach larger markets, and teach visitors about the coffee making progress.

Our host's husband, Rafael, was kind enough to give us a ride into the town, and the view on the way in was absolutely stunning. Quaint street between brightly colored buildings, with a view straight to one of the mildly active volcanoes surrounding the valley. We waited outside a cute church for the farmer, a translator (which we didn't really need, shout out to developing language skills) and the rest of a tour group which were some other university students on a spring break trip. They were doing some sort of volunteering and planning with developing grass roots companies. I bonded with the other fair skinned red head in the group as we both walked in whatever shade we could find.

The views on our way up through the farm were stunning. We kept seeing the mountain sides and the rest of the valley through gaps in the trees. We got a lovely view of the church next to our airbnb, the streets where the major festival had just occurred the day before, and we could see the rowed trees of coffee farms on the distant mountainsides.  Even though I was loving every second of the view I was a little disappointed that we were there during a foggy period. I can't even imagine what these views would have been like on clear day.

The first coffee plant we saw was just a baby, which we were told would be ripe with beans some time in October. The farmers keep the fields rotating so that they have constant production throughout the year.

We saw our first beans, which are actually more like a berry on the plant, a little farther up the path, in the shade of a type of austrian tree with very thin leaves and tiny yellow flowers that are used to decorate the streets with the designs in my last post. Our farmer, Daniel, grows a few different types of coffee. The beans to the left are from a tree that can produce for 100 years. However, they tend to cut and replant at around 75 because the beans start to decline in quality. Other varieties grow for different amounts of time and have different bean qualities.

We kept moving. We hiked up the side of the volcano towards Daniel's fields, which he'd inherited from his father, just as his seven sons would inherit it from him (he also has two daughters, and he's given plots away to his two sons that are already married).

When we made it to the field we'd be working in, a shady grove of coffee plants and austrian trees covered in volcanic ash and bugs (it was beautiful), Daniel taught us the tricks of harvesting: only harvest from the middle of the branch because the berries are biggest there, pinch and pull to seperate the berry from the branch, etc. He also showed us the easiest way to strip the red skin from the berry and how the gel-like coating on the beans inside tasted sweet. Then he set us to work.


To the right you can see the fruits of my labor, ft. the basket tied around my waist (really tightly) with rope and my ash covered hands. Coffee berries are really sticky, so the ash clung to me like it was glue. I also had it smeared all over my face because I kept brushing my hair out of the way. My feet were filthy too because I was silly and wore sandals for a hike up a dusty ash-covered mountain. My feet also got mildly sunburned and had a terrible tevas-like tan line for days (its still kind of there, but you didn't hear that from me). 
I successfully picked 2lbs of coffee berries, all on my own on the side of an active volcano in Antigua, Guatemala. With six of us working, we managed to pick about 14lbs of raw coffee berries, which probably wasn't actually that helpful since most of the beans we picked were unusable. See the more orange-ish one in my hand? Yeah, unusable. 1 bad bean can ruin the flavor of 20 good beans.
I have a new found respect for the coffee I drink. We were picking for about 30 minutes and most of our work couldn't even be used. And this is only the beginning of the process.

We returned to Daniel's house where he and his family handle the rest of the production in the courtyard of their home. The outer skin of the beans is stripped from them on this bicycle-like contraption. The skins are then used as fertilizer for the plants in the fields. We managed to work through our 14-ish pounds in a couple of minutes, taking turns on the bicycle. 

Then he showed us through the process of how they float the beans in water to remove the empty ones, dry them out, then strip off the additional inner skin surrounding the beans.
Everything that is taken out before the beans are roasted is used to fertilize the living coffee plants in the fields. The farmers are really good about what they do and have it down to a science, nothing is wasted. Any coffee that doesn't turn out quite right is what they drink with their meals (I feel kind of bad, because this means they're probably drinking our poorly harvested coffee...). 

We then roasted the beans in a metal pan over a wood burning fire in the family's kitchen. We requested a medium-dark roast and each took a turn stirring the beans around the pan to keep them from burning.
Disclaimer: these are not the same beans we picked. The drying process takes over a week, so this is a different small bowl-full of beans that had been picked much earlier.

After we all took a turn at the burner, Daniel's wife finished off the roasting process, let the beans cool, then started grinding the beans on a stone tablet with a wooden rod. Roasting took about 10 min and grinding about 8. Daniel's wife is a real pro. The whole grinding process probably would have been a lot faster if the group of gringas (us) had actually known what they were doing. The grinding process smelled the best. The whole room filled with the smell of warm coffee. It was like heaven.

The grounds then went into the olla, or pot (the dark blue one in the photo to the right). We then sat around talking, asking questions of Daniel and his family, and just bonding in a room filled with one of the greatest smells on earth.

The coffee, after the whole process, was absolutely amazing. It was full bodied, strong, and not too bitter. I ended up using a lot of sugar anyway because I love my coffee sweet, but I ended up buying an extra bag (we got one for free with the tour). Also, can we just take a moment to admire that adorable little mug? It's so cute, I wanted to keep it. Unfortunately, no such luck. But I brought the amazing coffee home and that's what matters.

The morning finished off with an amazing home cooked meal in Daniel's home. It was delicious chicken, fresh vegetables bought that morning in the local market, rice, and strawberry juice. Never in my life had I considered strawberry juice a thing, but let me tell you I had as many glasses of that stuff as I possibly could. It was fresh pressed minutes before and was absolutely stupendous. 


After a delicious lunch, we left Daniel and his family with a thousand thanks and walked back to the center, where we were picked up by our host's husband, Rafael, and driven back to the house to wash our feet, change clothes and prepare ourselves for the next adventure, a personalized tour to the pueblitos surrounding Antigua led by Rafael, who runs a tour business in Antigua. But I'll talk about that adventure later.

Antigua Guatemala

12 a 15 de Marzo

Antigua Guatemala- a city filled with churches, beautiful architecture and wonderful people. Surrounded by mountains, volcanoes and tiny pueblos. It's so rich with culture that the four days I spent there were not nearly enough.

The ride into Antigua was absolutely stunning (See picture at right). Everything was decorated for Pascua [Easter] with purple banners and other violet decorations. 

La ciudad pequeña [the small city] really lives up to its name, which means "ancient" in Spanish. All of the houses looked old, and had a definite colonial vibe to them. They were absolutely stunning.

The best part architecture-wise was how these old buildings were crammed in together, and occasionally there'd be a completely run down building squashed between two that were still in use. There were abandoned churches a block from one that was in use. There were crumbling cement walls, tree roots re-covering floors, and walls heavy with ivy. It was absolutely beautiful.

Our host family was super kind. The airbnb is owned by a woman named Violeta and her husband, who run a little shop/restaurant out of their front room which looked like it might have been a garage at some point. Three of their four sons still live with them and help out, and the rest of the bedrooms are rented out to travelers. While we were there we made friends with a French couple, a few students on a leap year or spring break adventures, a woman from Barcelona (pronounced barth-eh-loh-nah) and a man from England. There was also another woman from First Hill. It was really fun getting to know other travelers and get advice for places to go in the town.

Antigua really gets into their Easter Celebrations. Our Airbnb host says that thousands of people come to see the festivities every year, and I believe it. It's one of, if not the, largest Easter celebration in the world (thanks google). When we went out to breakfast our first morning in Antigua, we walked past families and neighbors making beautiful artwork in the streets using wood chips, pollen, flower petals, and other brightly colored natural materials. The photo at left is one of these in progress. They marked the path of the procession that was performed twice in one day- more on that later.

Many men and boys were wearing purple hooded robes made out of what appeared to be a heavy polyester, thus also adding a lovely sheen of sweat since it was hot. I was burning up (literally, since I forgot sunscreen) so I couldn't even imagine what these men and children were going through. 

As we wove our way through the streets, trying to find the elusive Blue Sky Cafe, which TripAdvisor had recommended for its stunning views of the city, I could sense the somberness of the occasion. The procession and purple clothes are supposed to replicate, remember, and honor the journey of Jesus into Jerusalem and the process of carrying the cross so everyone was pretty somber and pensive, although there was still the vendors and the amount of people proper for a classic parade and festival. 

The view from Blue Sky cafe didn't disappoint. Unfortunately, we were in Guatemala during the middle of a foggy period, so the volcanoes and mountains weren't as prominent as they normally would be. But we could still see almost the entire city (photos at right)

The food wasn't the best as it was definitely geared towards international visitors (read as: menu consisted mostly of american food) and there weren't many gluten free options. The best part of breakfast was the coffee, which came with a cute little jar of fresh milk.

After breakfast, we explored the city and the markets. We got swarmed with people, my chest, face and feet started to burn (#beefsteaktomato). I found a blanket I feel in love with (surprise) and we decided that before we explored anymore we needed to get back to the house to rest and budget.

Little did we know- since our airbnb was right in front of a church, the procession passed right in front of our house. We made it to the end of the block when we were stopped by some sacerdotes [priests] in white robes and were told we needed to stay behind a line made by more men in purple. We slowly tried to wind our way through the crowd, but got trapped about 6 houses down from our own. 

It was pretty amazing. We watched as men carried a giant wooden platform with the figures of Jesus carrying the cross and what I assume are other significant scenes from the bible and his crucifixion. There had to have been over 50 men carrying the platform, and each and every one had this look of extreme pain on his face, but also a peaceful reverence. I have no doubt that this was a deeply important moment for them, mimicking Christ's suffering like they were.

After about 30 minutes of being stuck as this procession made its way down our street, I started to get lightheaded from a combination of heat, dehydration and incense, so as soon as the platform was past I had to start moving.

Sasha and I started making our way through the crowd. We finally made it outside the house, but had just about given up ever making it inside past the  group of people 5 rows deep standing in front of us when a man pushed past us and started pushing his way inside. We followed close behind and, after 40+ minutes stuck outside in the blaring sun, we finally collapsed onto our beds under the protective roof of our airbnb.

[Photo to the left is an aerial view of the parade that I took during dinner, where we'd ducked inside to avoid getting stuck in the throng for the second time in one day. You can see more of the flower art and some of the hooded men who were leading the procession, cleansing the path with incense.]

I was so sunburned by the time we got in, but only on my face and chest since I'd been smart enough to bring a light summer jacket with me that kept the sun off my shoulders and arms. I've got tan lines now, y'all. I still look pale af, but I definitely have tan lines.

El fin del infierno

10 a 12 de Marzo

Winter Quarter went out with a groan and a quick prayer that it was over. The last few weeks of the quarter were hellish, with a professor who wasn't the best communicator nor supportive when we asked for clarification. 

It was a series of busy work, unproductive class discussions, lack of communication and just an eternal bought of frustration.

But its finally over, and I'm pretty sure my sigh of relief when I practically ran out of the classroom after turning in my final exam could be heard across campus.

And so began Spring Break 2k16

Mis amigas y yo had a day of freedom before we left at the crack of dawn for the airport for the next adventure: Guatemala.

As usual, I over packed for the 2 weeks I was going to be gone, but I managed to save enough room for all of the regalos and recuerdos I ended up buying (I regret nothing).

We got off to a rocky start when- for the first time in my life- Uber failed us. There were no drivers available, and when one did appear and accepted the ride, he cancelled it a minute later. So we had to resort to calling a taxi service. I always struggle with this because my Mexican phone is really low quality, and I'm not skilled enough with Spanish yet to be able to fill in the blanks the phone creates in the conversations.

But we made it to the bus station and bought our tickets to the airport. We made it in one piece on a really nice bus but we got lost for a bit in the airport itself. I swear the signs led us in circles. The best part- the security in the airport was so simple. There was no line, we didn't have to take off our shoes, it was absolutely amazing. Such a breeze. I think the airports here are going to spoil me for when I go back to the states...

Getting through customs in Guatemala was relatively simple too. They have you fill out a customs sheet when you enter AND when you leave the country. This freaked us out a little bit when they took our immigration form. How would we verify that we're legally allowed to be there? But apparently its fine and they didn't even have randomly selected bag searches- a plus for me since I almost always get randomly selected.

The best part of immigration was being greeted by this lovely relief next to the bathroom before we actually had to go through customs (shout out to Immigration Offices providing a bathroom, its a rare blessing)

Its Mona Lisa but 3D and much bigger than the original. 

She's also nude.

It was an unexpected sight upon entering a new country, but I love it all the same.

la Ciudad de México round 2

3-6 de febrero

This post is going to be a pretty brief post because I didn't transfer any of the pictures from this trip to my laptop before my phone was stolen a couple days later. 

The rest of the LASP program and I went to Mexico City during the end of the first week of February to go to museums, see the major sites and get to know a bit more about the history of Mexico. 

My favorite parts were the palace of Maximilian and El Palacio de Bellas Artes, the latter featured an amazing mural by Diego Rivera named El hombre controlador del universo. I spent a good 15 minutes sitting in front of this mural, just taking it in, absorbed by its complexity.

Source: http://www.wikiart.org/en/diego-rivera/man-controller-of-the-universe-1934

All of the murals in this museum were absolutely stunning, and the 40 minutes we had there were not enough. 

Most of the nights were spent in the hotel, but there was a 7-11 across the street so we had access to junk foods for random hotel room parties. It was a really good bonding experience for everyone and I came out of it feeling more connected to the group as a whole. 

Some of my friends and I spent an extra night in la Ciudad, and we went out for the night to a bar/club thing where we ended up just sitting around, eating chips and guac, talking about life and playing Never Have I Ever. 

I want to go back to CDMX really badly because the city is massive- it takes about 2 hours of highway driving to cross the city from one side to the other- and absolutely stunning.

Oaxaca City

22-24 de enero

I know this post is really late, but I finally have down time where I can feel productive so here we go.

Oaxaca City, Oaxaca is a beautiful city in the mountains of central Mexico.  

My friends and I stayed in a beautiful Airbnb where we each got our own room. They voted me into the master suite because I’d orchestrated all the travel and housing plans (MomFriend^TM). It was absolutely wonderful.

 

This is a picture of the view from our airbnb. Syd was lucky and got the room with the view, so she got to wake up to this every morning and go to sleep to the full moon every night.

Biggest downside was the mosquitos, but they were tame in Oaxaca compared to what I'd have to live through in Puebla in a week and a half.

Oaxaca is famous for its cheese, which I have pretty much formed an addiction too. My go-to snack is a quesadilla with some salsa and some Oaxaca cheese, because it’s melty and stringy like mozzarella but it tastes better.

Our first day there we got breakfast in a cute little restaurant near the city center. I had a delicious omelet de champiñones y espinaca and cafe de olla (at right), which means coffee of the pot because it’s brewed with a whole bunch of sweet spices in a giant clay pot, giving it a very unique flavor. I generally hate black coffee, but cafe de olla is sweet enough that I didn’t want to add anything.

Overall, the food in Oaxaca was amazing. For dinner our last night there Syd and I split a sample platter of different cheeses and sausages that featured quesadillas, guacamole and totopos, i.e. tortilla chips.

All through dinner we made friends with pigeons, some adorable dogs, and at the very end a father son duo brought up a marimba (its like a giant wooden xylophone) and played some adorable music. 

We also tried mezcal, which is a super strong alcohol that's made from the same plant as Tequila (i.e. agave) but it's fermented differently.

The city center was absolutely adorable. It was still very colonial, which I have some moral issues with but man is the architecture stunning. 

These pictures are of my two favorite places I found in Oaxaca. One is of a small courtyard near an open-air market with beautiful trees and crooked streets (above). The other is a tiny hidden alley/courtyard we found where all the businesses were therapists, spiritual healers and a tiny cooking school. I fell instantly in love and didn't want to leave (left).

We also made a trip out to Monte Alban, the ruins about a 30 min drive from Oaxaca City.

It's an old Zapotec city that's only partially excavated, so some of the pyramids aren't fully exposed (see the main pyramid to the left). There was so much exploring to do that we Hailey and I didn't get a chance to see the whole thing because we spent too much time exploring the first half and taking a ton of pictures. Travel Tip: don't spend 1/2 your time at a site in the first 1/4, because you end up rushing through the last half and missing some cool things. Oh well, Oaxaca is definitely on my list of places I need to see again. 

look at my cute friends

The trip was absolutely amazing. Best purchases were an absurd amount of Oaxacan chocolate, which makes the greatest hot chocolate I have ever eaten in my entire life, and a blanket. I have a problem where I buy a blanket in every country I go to because I am obsessed with them. I don't really consider it a major problem, because they keep me warm and can also double as beautiful wll hangings once I actually get my own place. This one is brightly colored and has a simple striped/geometric pattern on it. I love it a lot.

Bonus Photos:

Giant spider we found at Monte Alban. It was a little over an inch long and about an inch wide, including legs. You could see it from about 10 feet away, putzing its way through the dead, yellow grass. It was so beautiful, but I probably would die of fright if it had suddenly appeared on my body. No one else wanted to get anywhere near it, but I was down on my knees trying to get pictures.

Beautiful Tree with the background of an old church and an amazing system of roots that was breathtaking. Also this lighting was amazing and everything about this tree and this moment made me exceedingly happy. 

In front of the church doors there was a painter who was working on capturing the beauty of this area, and just past him, up the street, was an open air market with a whole bunch of blouses, jewelry and generally tourist-y souvenirs. It was super cool to wander around and look at everything though and the light filtering through the leaves around us was absolutely stunning.

I was pretty sunburned by the end of the day though.

Fun Fact: I'm actually getting tan?!?!?!

Keep in mind that I have always been as white as a piece of paper, so when I say "tan" what I actually mean is that my skin doesn't reflect sun and blind the people near me anymore. 

I'm still the whitest person in the LASP program.

It's Been a "Nope" Sort of Day

10 de febrero

Warning: this post is basically just going to be a big complaining dump about my day.

It's not that well written.

Sorry.

When I put on my "Nope" shirt today I was protesting a Spanish test that I had one night to study for. I was protesting having to wake up early and was expressing my general distaste for the day ahead.

Little did I know that it would quickly turn into the summary of my day.

My phone was stolen in a 30 second window on the (wrong) bus to school today.
I, stupidly, left it in an easily accessible pocket while I paid my fare and as soon as I found a spot and reached for it, it was gone. Props to the thief tho, I hope he gets some good money for it, it was a (relatively) new, nice phone.

I'm trying to be an optimist about this but it's not really working.

I feel kind of empty.

One of the issues with having an anxiety disorder and depression is literally anything can tip you over the scale. When my anxiety gets to high (like before an exam, like today) my depression is generally not too far behind. Motivation has been hard recently, and with this mourning process sort of thing literally all I want to do is curl up in my bed and never leave.

I want to call my parents and just talk.

I want to hide under the blankets and cry.

And it's not just because my phone was stolen, that's just the last straw in the snowball effect that is my life with mental illness (apologies for the blend of idioms). 

I keep being hard on myself about the phone thing and I know I should let it go but also I made a really stupid mistake and now I'm paying for it.

Basically I feel like a mess right now and I hate it.

But, shout out to my friends who comforted me today. It helped <3

A Stroke of Bad Luck

1 de febrero

Today I spent about 4 hours in the hospital.

I want to preface this article by saying that I am now OKAY. I really don't want everyone to panic over this, my day was scary and I never want to have to go through this again, but I am okay and I am getting some prescriptions filled in case it ever happens again.

Okay, so here's what happened.

Starting about 11 am today, my eyes started acting weird. You know how if you stare at a light your eyes get a white image stuck in them for a bit? Yeah, that happened. But it didn't go away.

About 10 minutes after that, my right arm went numb. But not like numb like it fell asleep, I just lost all sensation up to about my elbow. At first I thought it was a pinched nerve 'cause I get those a lot, but when I kept it resting at my side and moving my fingers and nothing changed, I started to know something was wrong.

About 5 minutes after that, I stopped being able to talk. My tongue stopped working and I couldn't form words unless I talked very, very slowly and enunciated very, very clearly.

It was probably the scariest moment of my life.

As soon as the first syllable slipt, I focused on saying that I had to go to the hospital. Now.

I heard one of my classmates voice my fear: "She's having a stroke."

Power was off at the university, so my professor, roommate and I had to hail a cab to get to the hospital, and the driver had to ask to get through a construction barrier in order to drive us there, but I made it in about 20 minutes.

By the time I was checked in and was in my very uncomfortable hospital bed, my symptoms were over and I felt fine. 

I got a CT scan for the first time, and it was so short. The worst part was not twitching while it happened. But now I have some cool pics of my brain!

Which, by the way is totally healthy. So I didn't have a stroke, thank god.

The neurologist said that the most common cause of stroke-like symptoms in youth is a severe migraine. He said that the blood vessels in my brain constricted so much that it cut off blood flow to the nerves in my arm and to my speech center. 

Mom suspects it could have also been triggered by anxiety, because those symptoms can overlap.

I got stuck in the hospital mostly due to wait time, but on the bright side I was served a lovely bland hospital lunch that consisted of chicken broth, agua de jamaica, this potato thing with cream and spinach (it was amazing tbh) and some sort of jello. I think it was orange? I didn't eat much of that.

I got home around 4:30 and took a nap. Syd and I are about to go to the pharmacy to fill prescriptions for when I get a bad headache and one for if I ever suffer a pseudo-stroke again (praying that the latter turns into a waste of money).

Other than the headache, I feel totally fine. The worst thing now is if I ever stumble over a word (which has been happening a lot lately because I'm getting stuck between languages) my anxiety immediately starts screaming that I've lost the ability to speak again. Getting over that will take some meditation and calm breathing, but I feel confident that I'm going to be okay.

I've been getting messages of love from friends and family, and I feel comfortable in my support net here. 

I just hope that I never have to use it again.

Fuertes, Murales y Comida

16 de enero

January 16, my friends and I went to los Fuertes de Loreto y Guadalupe, two forts that were essential in the battle of Cinco de Mayo in the revolution against french occupation. They were constructed in the 18th century, and are absolutely beautiful.

Entrance to Fort Loreto

The fort featured a museum with lots of war relics such as flags, uniforms, guns, binoculars and the like. It was super cool to see so many artifacts that were in relatively good condition and to learn a bit about Mexico's history as we wandered through. We went with a couple friends who are also on exchange in Puebla, but hail from one of the northern states. They were able to give us a bit more background information about the wars and such.

Panorama of the fort ft. Sydney

Beautiful mural representing the revolution

The mural above is one of my favorites I've seen. The colors are vivid, and its done in the style of traditional Mexican muralists. 

Food of the Week:

Lentil soup with tocino (bacon) and platanos fritos (fried bananas, which just so happen to be one of my favorite foods ever).

It might not look like much, but this is probably one of the best foods I've eaten so far here in Puebla. I didn't think I even liked lentil soup, but I ate two bowls of this stuff and would have eaten more if I didn't want to save room for the main course. 

It's been a really amazing few weeks food wise. I'm eating healthier foods in large portions, so my snacking habit has all but disappeared. I've been having a hard time battling my salted, fatty food cravings. When I get desperate, I satisfy it with these freshly made potato chips with lime juice and salt that are deliciously deadly. 

Overall though, I've felt a lot healthier since I've been here. My host mother appears mildly offended that I've actually been loosing weight. I need to explain that it's not because I'm not eating enough, but that I'm actually eating well.

Brujas, Cloaks and Classes

19 de enero

Today I learned that some of the churches here in Puebla don't keep holy water in their entry because the local brujas [witches] kept putting potions in it.

I guess it's the optomist in me, but I keep imagining kind little old ladies sauntering up to the holy water and dumping in a potion to encourage compassion and forgiveness because she thinks the world needs more.

In other news, yesterday I bought a chal [shawl] that kind of looks like a cloak. I wore it to class today and at least three friends told me that I look like I belong in Hogwarts. I feel so epic swooshing around in it and it makes me very happy. 

I'm also probably going to sign up for a painting class, even if it is a little nerve wracking and not necessarily in my traditional branch of skills. I originally wanted to do ceramics, but a whole bunch of my classmates are taking it and I don't want to be tempted to gravitate towards only them. I want to make new friends, dammit!

Right now I'm resting my becloaked self in an attempt to recharge my introverted energies. I think this is some of my only free time in a while, and I've felt like I've been running on empty for the last couple of days. It's hard to get alone time when one of the major rules is "Don't go anywhere alone, ever!"

Semana Primera

3 a 15 de enero

La semana primera en Puebla estaba muy divertido, y me encanta la ciudad y mi familia.

The first week in Puebla was very fun and I love the city and my family.

My family is very loving and kind towards me, mi mamá is an amazing cook. (left: chicken with onions, spinach and nutmeg. right: chilaquiles)

        

Our host sister has two little ones: a five year old boy and an 18 month old girl. Both are very sweet. I keep making faces at the little girl hoping for a smile and a laugh, (finally on Wednesday I achieved the former). The little boy always wants to play, but he's really only here right in the middle of prime nap and homework time.

One of the first days we were here, he wanted to hang out with us in our room, but Syd and I said we needed to rest and change. Knowing he'd be persistent, we closed and locked the door. This is where it gets good: he kept trying to turn the handle, we kept responding "¡no puebes entrar!" (you can't come in!). There was a moment of quiet, and we thought he finally understood. Nope. The little monster punched the door open. While I was in the middle of changing.

Well, now he knows that if the door is closed, he can't come in. Lesson learned the hard way I guess.

Our house is super cute too. There's no central heating, which was really only a problem the last few days when it felt like Seattle had followed us south. It was cold, rainy and windy, and I deeply regretted only packing one sweater. Our shower is a pipe that sprouts out of the wall, and we try to collect the water in a bucket to reuse it to water plants and stuff. It's actually a pretty nice use of recycling, even if it did take a little getting used too.

This is our room on our first day. It's pretty much the same, except syd's clothes are actually here now and the table has turned into a depository/makeup table. Out the window is a view of a super cute backyard where geckos like to climb on the walls (I definitely have tried to catch some a couple of times). Over the back wall is a river, and sometimes if the wind is just right you can catch a lovely wiff of I don't know what. The walk to school crosses it, and if you look down there's a bunch of white foam and it's recommended that you try to avoid breathing because it smells pretty terrible. There's lot's of pretty trees around it though, so at least it looks pretty.

We went out to some bars last Friday, and the first one had the most amazing piña coladas and a live band that performed classic rock. It was amazing. We bar hopped around a bit after that, but the night sort of fell after that. 

Saturday we went to a discotec and danced the night away. I lost track of time and before I knew it, it was 3am and Syd was like "okay, it's time to go home." It just felt so good to dance, and I felt so present in my body it was amazing. I got a few guys' numbers, and have been talking with one pretty consistently since then. We keep explaining different colloquial phrases and laughing at each other's confusion. He speaks almost solely Spanish, which is really amazing for my practice, but he can communicate well enough in English that if I say "wait, I really have no idea what you're saying"  he can help me out.

Two pretty negative things happened in the last week though.

On Friday, on their way to meet us at the Zocalo, two of my classmates were on a bus and got robbed at gunpoint. One of them lost everything they had, and the other somehow managed to only give up his money. Beyond being scared and freaked out, no one on the bus was hurt. I want to emphasize that point, no. one. was. hurt.

It's served as a good lesson to us though: don't bus at night, remember to only carry the absolute essentials, and make sure you have people knowing where you are, where you're going, and who you are helping to keep track of you. Also, if we're in public we need to speak only spanish, because our american english sticks out like a sore thumb. 

I still feel very safe here, I'm just even more alert than I was before.

The other negative thing was a loss in my family. As some of you know (because I excitedly texted you in all caps) my family had a Yorkie puppy named Pinchi. He was the most energetic, playful ball of a pup ever. 

Wednesday night, he slipped out the front door and ran into the street where he was hit by a car. Unfortunately, he didn't make it, and it was really hard to understand the rapid-fire spanish about what happened, but I did catch that his death was almost instant, so at least he didn't suffer. It threw the whole family off for the last few days, as it should. It's been hard trying to walk the thin line between wanting to support them, and not trying to over-help.

I've been mourning him too. Yorkies have always been one of my favorite dogs, and I love animals in general, so I was pretty attached to him from the get go. 

On the bright side, the family's laughter and smiles are starting to come back, my spanish is improving constantly (even if there's still the moments of "wait, how the HECK DO YOU SAY THIS" followed by frantically searching the divine website wordreference.com) and I'm starting to feel myself settling in.

There's still a part of me that feels like I'm on vacation, and so there's another part of me that's waiting in nervous anticipating for the other shoe too drop.

Photo of a side street near the Zocalo, el centro del Puebla

P.S. I have now been lost 3 times in Puebla.

1. Syd and I took the bus home without knowing that they dropped us off on another street and ended up outside of Puebla. We were on the bus for about an hour and a half, and just sort of rode around until we saw something familiar.
2. First time walking to la Ibero (our university), we made a slightly wrong term cause google maps mislead us and we ended up walking for over an hour instead of the promised 40 minutes. Now that we know what we're doing, though, the walk is actually nice and I'm going to try to take it as many mornings as possible.
3. Today, me and 8 other of my classmates (just under half the class) took the wrong bus to school. Before we got on, we asked if it went to la ibero, and the driver said yes. After about 20 minutes he told us that we were at our stop, we hopped off, only to find we were over 30 minutes walking distance from the Ibero. Then we tried to take a shortcut and that backfired. We all lived, but it was an adventure.