Sunburn in December

Hello faithful readers. Just a quick update to let you all know that we are not dead, but enjoying all that Mexico City has to offer: beautiful museums, efficient subways, punjent odours of urine. It is really crowded here, but if you keep your wits about you, you are not in any real danger.

We have much to share, but in the interest of providing fully detailed accounts of our adventures (and pictures), we will recount everything in entries in the new year (internet here costs an arm and a leg).

And yes, we are both sunburned right now. How's the weather at home?

The Office Party

I am going to present to you the happenings of the school Christmas party. It was on Friday; the kids had early dismissal to make time for this staff-only event, which, by the way, is called a 'posada.'

Because it was actually pretty cold that day, the party was held in the gym. It was still freezing in the gym, so they put three patio heaters in there to heat the place. It wasn't nearly enough, and everyone was still wearing their coats. My friends and I managed to push through the crowd to sit at a table beside one of the heaters, which resulted in my face being hot and the rest of me frigid.

The celebration started with people speaking rapid Spanish (is there any other kind?) into a sound system that made every noise coming out of it sound distorted. Then there were the plays. Four groups of people volunteered to present little plays about the devil getting in the way of the shepherds on their way to Bethlehem. Apparently these plays are very common. So the first group had two people dressed up as Mary and Joseph in fully-made costumes. They began their play by walking around the gym with a donkey. A real donkey. They made their way to the stage, and then things got loud, distorted, Spanish-y, and confusing. I have no idea what the play was actually about. The next three plays were equally beyond my grasp. What stands out, besides the Pokemon-inspired music, was a play that had angels and devils fighting it out with boxing gloves. The whole thing was insane, and it would have been a great basis for an acid trip. I haven't mentioned yet that there were caterers BBQ-ing food. Indoors. So I was getting pretty high on the CO2 also, I think (and everything smelled smokey).

It was finally time for the food. We lined up, walked past the heating trays, and helped ourselves to some pretty good grub. There was a mole (which is really just saucy meat), a bunch of other meats, and tortilla shells to put everything into. Apparently it was very traditional Mexican food, and it was good. I've also noticed that they're not big on vegetables down here... . Dessert was cotton candy (I don't know how traditional that is...).

After food, we played loteria, which is bingo. The prizes were pretty awesome: a bunch of big-screen TVs, some tiny laptop things, a few small appliances (toaster, etc). We didn't win squat. It was interesting that most of the winners were the maintenance and cleaning staff...

And that was it. Posadas are a pretty big deal here, and seem to be pretty expected for any business to have. We had a second, much smaller, posada for the Upper Elementary (grades 4-6) division yesterday. Similar food, and then just sitting around talking to people I don't normally talk to. The kids in my class are going to have a posada too, but there isn't a settled date yet, so I don't know if I'll be going or not.

Crossing Over Part 2

...We arrived at the international border around high noon. Bumper to bumper, the stream of cars crawled serpentine over a bridge which covers a completely dry Rio Grande. In fact the only thing of grand scale was the amount of vendors hawking their wares to pitying black Friday consumers. Ironically there were several signs sternly forbidding any kind of commercial activity at all. Yet here, as in other parts of Mexico, we saw the underside of a population that thrives in spite of its own governmental structures. Garishly adorned Virgin Mary's hung upon the same concession poles as popcorn and cans of Pepsi--everything and nothing was sacred, which reminded me a lot of Israel.

As our little vessel chugged along the bridge, Caroline and I enjoyed our first few minutes of American radio. In fact, we found a nice classic rock channel, and it was our mainstay for the rest of the trip. The infamous American border patrol offered us no trouble; perhaps because I spoke English with more familiarity than he. Soon after we found ourselves cruising along the bustling metropolis of McAllen. There were all the familiar McDonald's, Best Buys, and Targets, and some local oddities as well. We bee-lined it to the mall where we found a moderately chaotic swarm of humanity. There were actually police towers in the parking lot (not sure if that brought a feeling of comfort, apprehension or hilarity).

(I'm taking over this post now, because He is in San Antonio, TX for a UN trip...)

The mall was typical and very busy. And the adage is true: everything (read: everyONE) is bigger in Texas). We didn't find much to buy at the mall, but we weren't really taking the trip to buy anything, just to get away for the day. We also went to a Best Buy, and bought a new camera. We've had trouble with ours; it sometimes will not close, and then water spilled on it and that was that. We got a nifty Nikon for $120USD, not too bad a guess...

We had a gluttonous supper at Romano's Macaroni Grill. It was sooo relaxing to be able to speak English, and have your meaning understood instantly. That's not to say we didn't hear Spanish; there seemed to be an equal mix happening. At Barnes and Noble (we each bought a book; his was a critical analysis on T.S. Eliot's poetry, mine chronicled the suicides of famous people), the cashier gave us our change spoke to us in Spanish. So much for getting away from the language...

Our drive home was fairly uneventful. Coming back into Mexico at the border, we weren't even stopped. There wasn't even a line-up (granted, it was about 10pm, but still). They did not check ID's, passports, anything. But they had Mexican military lounging about, and a truck-mounted 50-caliber gun. The border town of Reynosa is pretty seedy, but there are plenty of signs guiding us outta there. On the highway back, we stopped a few times to stretch because we were so tired, and both of us were nodding off.

Overall, this was a worthy excursion. It's not something we'll do frequently (like some of our Mexican co-workers seem to do), but for a mini-vacation, it was well worth the trip.

Crossing Over - Part 1

Good Morning all,

So by blogosphere standards I must be considered clinically dead; nevertheless, I live on - a more or less bedraggled version of myself. No complaints about my zoo keeping job though, today I explain our big adventure to McAllen. Last weekend, we decided enough was enough, and it was high time we escaped Vanity Fair for a couple days and head for the good 'ol USA. Trepidation was high as this weekend contained the infamous "black Friday," but with our course set we plunged recklessly onward toward the quaint little car rental place in downtown Monterrey. Interesting way of doing business at this joint, you have to call their posted cell number in order to alert the proprietor to show up at their office, which she did -- eventually. After we received our luxurious white dodge (memories of the intrepid mom?), it was smooth sailing out of town.

This was my first time driving in Mexico, but honestly despite all my misgivings from the pedestrian point of view, behind the wheel there is an eery logic to their mass of traffic circles and ramps. That, or the euphoria of not getting lost in the first ten minutes, is still clouding my judgment. Of course, as the car was given to us with about a quarter tank, we had to fill 'er up and soon. Most gas stations are full service; however, most attendants thankfully understand the English expression 'fill 'er up'. So, after some quick snacks we were on the road again.

Now came decision time:
Two roads diverged in a desolate landscape,
One bore tolls of many pesos, the other did not,
The one with the tolls was smooth and clean
The one that was free looked aged and mean,
Therefore, we paid our way (the road most traveled by SUV)
And that, as Frost would say, made all the difference.

The road to McAllen was fairly uneventful, but soon we were heading through border towns and into the border itself...

The King of the Baby Goat

Lately, I've been missing being able to go out for food and drinks with friends. To rectify this, a few of us went out for supper on Friday night (and do remember that supper hour is about 9pm). The restaurant that we went to is called El Rey del Cabrito, which translates to 'The King of the Baby Goat.' Their specialty is...baby goat. Click here for the menu; the good stuff is on the 'Botanas' and the 'Ordenes de Carbrito' links. And yes, baby goat head is available on the Botanas menu. In case you're wondering, the whole baby goat will only set you back about $120USD.

The inside of this place is very kitschy. There are faded, back-lit pictures of the owner--complete with 70's mustache--adorning the wood-paneled walls. A giant strobe-lit Christmas tree. And taxidermied lions (which were posed fighting each other), deer, and other assorted animals. It was so bad that it was great.

I ordered the baby goat leg. It comes sizzling on a bed of onions, and that's it, no sides other than the requisite guacamole and tortillas on the table (this place is not for vegetarians). The meat was very tender and juicy, and similar to any smoked meat. I couldn't finish it all, because earlier I had made a Creamy White Cheese Dip, and ended up eating it all. The leftovers are currently in the fridge, waiting to be deployed later this week.

Baby goat is considered a bit of a delicacy here, and I had been wanting to go to a goat restaurant for a while now. When we were leaving, I saw into the cooking area. There were about 6 whole goat, stretched out and propped over-top of hot coals. The chef/butcher/cook took a cleaver to another on a chopping block. I found out that these goats are all less than 30 days old, and it seems like the industry is similar to that of veal-production. All I can say is that I would not hesitate to have it again.

Estanzuela Park

On Sunday, we went for a hike with our Austrian friend and her mates. It was awesome. This park isn't too far out of the city (about a 10 minute drive from her place, which is about 20 minutes from ours) and only cost about 50 cents to get in. It starts off as a paved trial, which gradually steepens until we were huffing up about a 60 degree incline. This bricked walkway ends at a sort-of lookout point, and from there a dirt trial continues further up. We went, climbing over roots and clamboring around tree trunks. The trial was very winding and meandering, edging close and then far from the river nearby.

I found the changing foliage interesting, especially as some areas resembled the Shilo training area (with far less scrub -- this is an arid climate). For the first time since we've been here, we were breathing clean air. On some cliff edges, we could see Monterrey in the distance; there was a discernible smudge of smog floating over the metropolis. The views were amazing, with soaring, tree-covered mountains in nearly every direction.

We climbed on. At one point, in a clearing, we came across a small shrine to the Virgin Mary on a tree. I asked our companions why there would be a shrine in the middle of a mountain forest (we had been hiking for about 1 1/2 hours by then). They had no real answer, just that whose-ever shrine it was must just like that place.

Later, there were large out-cropping of rock. Andrew scampered into a cave, and climbed up out of a hole in its roof. I was going to climb up as well, but he started to come down. I thought I was out of the way; a large, softball-sized rock fell and cracked me on my wrist. To put it lightly, it hurt. Luckily, no broken bones, and only slight bruising.

The end of our journey was a waterfall. The water was so clear, I wanted to jump in. We were some-ways up, and were the trail ended, the water was also coming out of a hole in the rocks. It was awe-inspiring.

We headed back; the round trip took about 5 hours. I didn't feel tired at all, just rejuvenated. And hungry. To feed, we all went to a Chinese buffet (which, bizarrely, served a selection of pizza and pasta as well) and made gluttons of ourselves. Highly enjoyable, and an excellent way to spend a Sunday. Andrew and I are definitely looking forward to going for a long-day trip there some time. Hands down, it was the most enjoyable thing we've done so far...

Big Trouble in Little Mexico

I'll let you all in on something. If, hypothetically speaking, you were to lose your temper and mouth off to two of your colleagues, and then they were to tell your boss about it, here would be your punishments:

1. participating in a sit-down mediation with the two colleagues (them against me -- somehow the boss thought this wouldn't be a problem when I pointed that out);
2. writing a 'letter of commitment' for the boss (no real elaboration on what exactly that means); and
   
3. writing a research paper on the themes of frustration and interrelationships (are there any outerrelationships?)

This incident has been the cause of much tension and annoyance for me, as I feel that I have eaten more than my share of the proverbial humble pie, and also that the whole incident has been blown way out of proportion. Seriously. They told on me.

In other news, we didn't go away for this long weekend (research papers take time to research, especially when the computers you are using to research have web filters, and block most research sites). Instead, we managed to squeeze in a viewing of the moving dramatic film 2012. The epic trials and tribulations of John Cusack versus nature cannot be applauded enough, and were rather understated. This is definitely a fore-runner for the upcoming Academy Awards. (In all seriousness, it is a pretty good disaster movie, as far as these things go. If you need to turn off your brain for 152 minutes, check it out.)

Blah

I feel like we've definitely hit the proverbial wall down here. We're busy with classes/the hoops they want us to jump, we haven't done anything or gone out anywhere of note, and nothing is really new. Positive points: the temperature was 27 today, this coming weekend is a long weekend (and we're likely going to San Antonio, Texas with our Austrian mate), and our Christmas plans are complete. Rest assured, we are looking forward to it.

It's hard to explain why I'm in the doldrums. I had assumed that being in Mexico would be non-stop tacos, touring, and relaxation. The reality is, is that it's boring and frustrating. Monterrey is not an attractive city (the travel book I had bought doesn't even include it), nightlife consists of bars full of 18-year-olds (or that's how they look), and we aren't really happy with the school (this is actually a pretty big factor). Simple tasks, like calling Mexico City, are impossible, and dealing with taxi drivers is just tiring. I miss the 'Peg.

Halloween

For Halloween (and seemingly any occasion), there was a class party. Not in school, but at a student's house -- I mean mansion -- last Thursday evening. I was invited, and another teacher advised me that it would be a good thing if I went.

Not wanting to arrive empty-handed (especially because I had no intentions of wearing a costume), I decided to make some cookies. Not just any cookies though. I ended up making the best cookie recipe I have ever tasted in my life. These are dangerous. Because they are a sandwich cookie, and I wanted there to be plenty to go around, I doubled the recipe. Because of this, and the fact that my oven refuses to work properly, it took me 4 hours to make 160 individual cookies. But it was worth every second...

At the party, the mothers sat around a table while the children ran around screaming. The gossip at the table alternated between Spanish and English (solely for my benefit). Happily, there wasn't much asking about how their child is doing. Overall, a good impression was made.

On Friday, the school allowed the students to wear "Head Costumes." This entailed a mask, wig, or hat. And that is the extent that the children were allowed to dress up (would any of you be surprised if I said I was the only grade 5 teacher not to wear a head costume?). Behold the awesome glory of the head costume:



The kids were buzzing all day, but I made them hold out until last period before they could receive any candy gratification. During the 10-ish minutes that I let them cut loose, I took it upon myself to teach them the Chicken Dance, with great results:



For actual Halloween: we ended up buying some candy, none of which looks particularly edible:



For the evening, we ended up watching the most quintessential of all 80's films: The Karate Kid. It's been about 15 years since I'd seen it, and just to refresh you all, there are 4 montages (one of which is the all-mighty Training Montage), horrible clothing, a killer soundtrack, and a strong message of 'don't mess with Mr. Miyagi.' It was fantastic. No kids came. Now we have a giant bowl of disgusting 'candy' that we'll likely dole out throughout the year. Is it wrong to give skull-shaped suckers out at Easter?

Food

I haven't brought up the topic of food and cooking very much. As you all know, I prefer to cook and bake from scratch as much as possible. What's frustrating here is that specific ingredients are hard to come by (for example, graham crackers) and also that (in my opinion) the kitchen is woefully under stocked (in terms of utensils, bake-ware, etc).

To overcome this, I generally have had to make really simple dishes. Lots of pasta with simple vegetable sauces, and little tortilla shells with beans, cheese, and salsa (of which there's about a million varieties at the store). My baking has mainly consisted of chocolate-chip cookies; the flour and butter is so different that I hesitate to make a cake or pie.

The opportunity arose last weekend to show off my baking talents when another Canadian couple decided to host a belated Thanksgiving at their place. I opted to make 2 desserts, one of which had to have pumpkin. After much internet searching and careful consideration of what implements were housed in the kitchen, I found the two recipes: Pumpkin Cheesecake Crumble Squares and Turtle Bars. Both are fantastic and I highly recommend them both. Because if I can make them under duress here in Mexico, you can definitely make them in Canada. Enjoy!

The Month I did not sleep

Good Evening folks,

Well it seems entirely impossible that it has been a month since my last post. It seems as if I spend most of my posts apologizing for their infrequency. Thank goodness for the industry of my beautiful wife to keep you all updated. In any case, as you may surmise, I have been very busy the past few weeks just treading water with this whole teaching thing. My main source of time consumption is that any assignment I give, I have to mark 140 times. Now this isn't much when it comes to multiple choice quizzes, but when it comes to 3 - 4 page short stories, I find myself trapped in a purgatory of sentence fragments and misplaced prepositions (probably not unlike the present composition).

We have still managed to find time for some recreation; namely the soccer game, which was incredible for a variety of reasons. And while I do wish to keep this blog family friendly, I defy any of you to find a sporting venue in Canada or the U.S. where they serve beer in cups the size of a McDonald's Value meal me for less than $3 USD. Now you know the reason for all the riots, at least in Mexico.

We celebrated Canadian Thanksgiving this weekend (a bit late) with some of our friends from the school, and were able to show/provide them, to the best of our abilities, a traditional Thanksgiving meal. Caroline's pumpkin cheese cake squares were a big hit. I was lucky to have sampled some at home because they disappeared quickly at the dinner. Our outings have been a bit less frequent this month, mostly due to school work; but we still managed to get to the theatre for both "Jennifer's Body" (mildly amusing) and "Inglorious Bastards" (entirely indecipherable since the subtitles were Spanish and the audio was mostly French and German) :(

This weekend I will be attending my first simulated UN gathering at one of the local high schools, so I can finally see my UN club kids in action. Beyond that, Caroline and I are getting very excited about our upcoming Christmas vacation (8 weeks !) Caroline has been in a planning frenzy, and I'm sure each day will general far more interesting blog banter than my humdrum marking stories. We are also still planning to march the Sierra Madre sometime in the New Year. Every day feels slightly more like autumn here, but really it is more rainy than cool (still Tshirt weather). Well, I think I will sign off now and catch a few hours rest. Thanks to all those loyal readers who have to wait far too long between rants. My next planned introspective on what I just don't happen to like about Mexican culture should be interesting, and possibly offensive! Stay Tuned!

Buenos Noches

The Flags

Two orders of business today:
1. Now that the camera is working again, I can post the pictures of the giant flags that I saw on the Mexican Independence Day. This hill with the flag towers over the city, as you will see. Enjoy:

The gargantuan flag, as we approach uphill on foot:





Walkway with flags (and no, that is not some kind of pirate flag, although I don't know what it is):



More flags at the top:



View from the top: San Pedro (the 'rich' area that we live in) is on the other side of the hill:



View from the top of Monterrey:



2. I have not been giving proper props to the readers. Thus:

• Grant: how's law school?
• Fender: how's Hydro?
• Coreas: ¿cómo está el ejército?
• Cheryl: keep working on your German.
  
• Adrea: quit one of your jobs already...
  
• Crawford friends back home: thanks for reading.
• Family members, both sides: thank you for taking care of our stuff while we're gone.

We miss the 'Peg and the action on Victor St as well as the cooler weather (right now, at 10:30pm, the weather stats are: 28 degrees, feels like 32, and the humidity is 79%). Believe it or not, we miss the cold.

Football

Down here, they take their football (aka: soccer) very seriously. If I want to talk about football as we know it, I must refer to it as American football. Then try to tell them that there's a Canadian football. Watch confusion grow. Moving on: most everyone seems to have season tickets to one of the two city teams: the Rayados (which means 'stripes'), and the Tigers (which means....'tigers'). The rivalry between the two teams is intense, and you are either a Rayados fan, or a Tigers fan. We have been informed by students and peers alike that we will like the Rayados. The reason: the Tigers is the 'working class' team. So I guess if you're educated, you would want to cheer for the Stripes as opposed to the Tigers....but I digress.

One of the longer-term Canadian teachers offered to sell us her seats for last Saturday's game, as she couldn't make it. For only $25 a pop, we figured why not see what the fuss is about?

We went with another couple that we know (US teacher, Mexican boyfriend), and I'm glad because we would have had a much more confusing time if we had went alone. First of all, the stadium is part of the main university. And it is huge. Like, 70,000 people huge (thanks for the stats, Wikipedia). Here's a shot that I ripped off the internet; I put a yellow area to signify approximately where our general admission seats put us (click the photo for a larger image):

It was about that crowded too. Outside the main gates, there was a dour-looking police officer or soldier -- there was no telling which. Other uniformed dudes walked around with dogs, one of which was a very male doberman. We got patted down on our way in, I presume for weapons, as Mexicans uniformly hate drugs (the drug trade is basically destroying their economy). I was going to bring the camera (which is working again!!), but I had been warned that it would have been confiscated. (An aside: it kills me how you can't take a camera into venues, but people can still take their camera-equipped phone in and snap all the pics they want.) Walking through the lower level towards our ramp, we passed open grills with coils of sausage and other various meats (after seeing the 'cooks', we decided not to buy any food), beer vendors, a man guarding a gigantic block of ice on the floor (apparently they break off pieces for the beer pails -- more on them in a bit), and gag-inducing water fountains. I was warned off of the washrooms, so I have nothing to report there.

The lower seats of the general seating area are not seats at all; they are just concrete steps, Roman coliseum style. We ventured up higher, and were pretty much on the edge of our section (you can kind of see the separating fence to the right of my yellow arrow). This area had wooden planks to sit on. On every fifth stair or so, there was a beer vendor.They have these 20L pails of beer bottles and the a fore-mentioned ice. You signal to them, they pour your 1L beer, you give them 60 pesos ($6Cdn), and they somehow scrape together a living. Everybody wins!

Now you can't really see this too much in the picture; you'll have to direct your attention to the right side of the photo. The front-row of the stands are at ground level. There is a little wall (the front of the stands) and then two metres or so of grass. Then there is a moat. Yes an empty, concrete moat, like the type that surrounds the bear cages at a zoo, to protect the visitors. This moat is (presumably) to protect the field/players from the spectators. To add to this, in the end-zone was a black-clad cop with a dog. Because all of this was not enough, along the two metre strip of grass were riot-gear clad police, complete with sheilds. Needless to say, I was hoping for some action.

In the dead-centre of the endzone (do they call it that for soccer?) were the rowdies. You think you know what a loud, excited crowd is like, having gone to a football or hockey game. You don't. About 10 people came in with drums. Giant, blue bass drums (team colours: blue and white). Then there were the flags. About 10-15 small bedsheet-sized flags. They were all exactly the same, and all homemade. These flags flew continuously for the entirety of the 90+ minute game. Oh yeah, and the drums keep going too. And the songs. This team, you see, has about 20 different songs dedicated to them, and everyone knows the words. But what's singing if you're not moving to the music. Everyone in this endzone area was jumping around in time to the music. It looked like waves, or wind over tall grass. Also, twice a smoke bomb went off there too; I'm not sure of the logic of enjoying the game so much that you want to obscure your view with smoke. So there were drums, flags, smoke bombs, jumping and chanting the whole time. I was entertained.

But if they're that excited just watching the game, how about when there's a goal??? Well, when the Rayados scored, I turned to look at my entertainment. I was confused, and not disappointed. It was a human avalanche, I cannot describe it any other way. What seems to happen, is that for some reason they forget about the moat and the riot team and the dogs, and the fans seem to want to rush the field. So there's a flow of humans down onto that little strip of grass. Then the human-tide goes out, so to speak, and they flow back up to their seats, riot-cops encouraging them back up over their little wall. Fascinating.

Every time the team was about to score, everyone jumps up, throws whatever's in their hands, and screams in agony when there's a miss. My American friend received a cupful of beer in her hair a few weeks ago.

I was really looking forward to the reaction when the other team scored. Would there be blood? Riots? Scarified goats? This was the only time I was disappointed. There was nothing. Not even a general uproar (well, they still yelled, but it seemed less somehow). Maybe if volume is their way of cheering on their team, silence is their means of disapproving the opponents.

Half time's event: three obstacles reminescent of Most Extreme Elimination Challange, except there really weren't any safety mats and the contestents consisted of chubby children. Pretty much every one of them face-planted off of a hieght of 6 feet or so. Most amusing thing I've seen pretty much ever.

And about the game itself? I don't even know who the opposing team was, the final score was 2-1 for Rayados, and really, it was just a bunch of men kicking the ball around.

Independence Day

Firstly, I have been meaning to update since Wednesday. The reason why I haven’t is I’ve been PO’d because our digi-cam broke, and there were pics that I wanted to include in this post. Grrr…

Anyhow, on September 16^th, Mexico celebrates its independence. From whom you ask? More on that later. Because pretty much everything was closed on Wednesday, everyone goes out to party on Tuesday night. As the Mexican boyfriend of a colleague told us: the streets would run with tequila.

We were invited to that colleague's for a party. Our Austrian friend came as well (it's funny to think that I had to come to Mexico to become friends with an Austrian). Because the Mexican's really seem to love the communal-food thing, I volunteered to bring chocolate-chip cookies, and we were tasked to bring cheese (Oaxaca cheese, good for melting, similar to mozzarella). After we got home from after-school clubs, I whipped up the cookies, Andrew ran out to the grocery store down the street for the cheese, and then we were on our way.

There was a mix-up in the directions, which resulted in Andrew and I wandering in suburbia and a parking garage for about half and hour, carrying a ziploc bag of cookies, and a wheel of cheese. We felt like participants on "The Amazing Race." Eventually, out of frustration, we sought out a phone in the Holiday Inn across the street. I won't go into details about how you use a pay phone at the Holiday Inn in Mexico; suffice it to say it doesn't take coins or credit cards (however, mysterious, overpriced phone card will be accepted, with difficulty). We placed our SOS call to my Austrian savior, who came to pick us up.

We arrived at the party, no worse for wear (except for broken cookies). As time passed, more and more Mexicans showed up to this tiny ground-floor apartment. Most of the party was outside. A grill was produced, beef ribs were cooked, and I never figured out what the cheese was for. Attempting to learn some history, I asked a pink-shirted man what went down for Mexico to gain its independence. I expected a quick 3-5 sentences about who, what, when. What I did get was a non-stop lecture about I'm not even sure, because I tuned out after about 5 minutes. The great thing was that every time my attention wandered, Pink-o would get annoyed and fuss until he could continue. Joy.

I finally extracted myself, spoke on the merits of old Metallica versus new Metallica, saw the time, found Andrew (ask him who He-Man is) and left the party.

On the actual day of independence (Wednesday), we went, along with friends, to the gigantic flag monument. It's up on a hill, and there's about 20 or so gigantic Mexican flags flying. The view was great (and so would be the pictures...) and the weather hot.

And that is how your average Mexican 20-something celebrates their country's independence.

Curious

The San Pedro area of the city of Monterrey is the riches neighborhood in Latin America. Think about that for a second. So then why is it that we have had two power outages in one month? I just don't get this place. For all their hooplah and posturing, things seem slightly polished on the surface, and barely held together underneath. It's not horrible, but it makes one wonder...

We went out last night to Sierra Madre Brewing Company. It's a small-ish chain of restaurants here, and they obviously micro-brew their own suds. We needed a cab to take us there. After stopping for directions, taking the long way, and getting lost (he clearly wasn't sure where to go), we spotted the sign to the restaurant. Having had enough of this guy, we told him to stop the cab (our intention was to walk the remaining distance; taking the cab would have involved many turn-arounds and lane-changes). He kept driving along the freeway, so out of anger, annoyance (at getting ripped off), and frustration, I flung my car door open, and yelled at him to stop the car. Evidently, cab drivers here feel that they shouldn't drive when the door is open, so he obliged me and pulled over.

After darting across lanes of freeway, we made it to the restaurant and meet the rest of our party. This place had the feel of a more casual Earls. The food wasn't very good, but because one of our companions had a special discount card, everything was buy one get the second free. It even applied to the pitchers of beer. A nice night was had by all. All told, the evening with return cab rides, two entrees (we both got hamburgers), an appetizer (Mongolian spring rolls), and around a pitcher of beer each only cost about $55Cdn.

Another Week, Another Grand Parade for the Glorious Republic of Mexico!

Good Afternoon all,

Today Caroline and I are enjoying a well earned weekend with a shortened week ahead of us due to Mexican Independence Day; which reminds me, I really must find out how that all came about. When I think of Canada's independence, I think of a very responsible yet socially awkward teenager who had to be encouraged to leave the safe confines of the United Kingdom by its British parents and into the scary independent world of the commonwealth with some not so subtle badgering. For us, it was about growing up and becoming our own country. The United States; they were our fitful older sibling who ran away from home for the circus at sixteen and dinner conversation at the G8 has ALWAYS been awkward ever since. Canada thinks to itself, "Damn it U.S. why can't you at least be polite in front of mom and stop bragging about all your ne'er to well conquests with the poor neighborhood children down the street like Guatemala and Panama." The U.K. just puts on that very stoic parental voice of resigned indulgence, and even lets the U.S. borrow the car for their big adventure in Iraq. This is how I see the world (kinda). So Mexico, maybe just slipped away when nobody was looking.

Of course I know this isn't true because at school today I attended an assembly. In this particular school at this particular time of year, assemblies are more like ceremonies for patriotism (Samuel Johnson's words have never rung truer); but besides all of that, we listened to some very nice anthems, stood for a little while, and then I tried to salvage what was left of first period. Most of the students in my home room had somewhat prominent positions in the ceremonies, so I was quite proud.

Teaching so far has been going reasonably well. I'm still suffering from the first year first term anxieties, and grammar remains a milestone about my neck. Nevertheless, I'm getting along well with the kids and everything is going pretty smoothly. U.N. club is starting to kick into high gear, and I have learned A voluminous amount about the U.N. simulation this week from my students and from other teachers.

As for this weekend, Friday we vegged in front of the television and chatted a bit with our neighbor from downstairs. I should probably more accurately say vented about school and life. Today, well I'm typing this little post and tidying about the house a bit. We also intend to go out to dinner with some of our teacher friends. Sadly, it has been referred to as a girls' night out + me, because almost all of the teachers at our school are women. I don't mind it; we all clearly have a lot in common; nevertheless, being the one guy in an all girl get-together seems a little odd. Maybe I'll get back to watching that "Full House" marathon on cable in an act of self-deception with regards to the normality of offset gender combinations; or maybe I'll just have a scotch. Well, must get to the school to take advantage of all the free photocopying. Our next post will be a tribute to the festivities of Mexican Independence Day; wherein, according the boyfriend of one of our colleagues, the streets run with tequila. hmmm.

vaya le bien!

Illnesses

Last weekend I was sick. Like death-sick. My head was killing me, and the pharmacists just laughed at me. It sucked, but I obviously pulled through. It does seem to be flu-season here though; since the weather cooled off in the last two weeks or so, many kids have been away, or needed to see the nurse during the day. I cannot comment if there have been two cases of H1N1 at the school already...

The last week was really busy. The after-school clubs started up, so we began our obligatory pennance. I'm doing the grade 5-6 UN club. There's no outline, no clear boss, no clear direction. The only thing I know for sure is that the kids have to win some competition later this year (and no, nobody has been able to tell me what one). Because I'm heading the club with another Canadian teacher, we are able to supervise 60 kids. We decided that 50 would be easier to manage. Instead, whomever was in charge of signing up the kids (apparently nobody -- it's not clear to me) just kept letting the kids sign up. We have 80-ish on paper. We aren't allowed to tell anyone that they're cut from the club without just reason (like discipline...acutally, that's pretty much it). So we're stuck with 65 kids (the ones that actually come) for one hour twice a week. It's not much time to do anything, at least.

Between walking everywhere, a lack of kitchen implements, and the inability to locate anything in the grocery stores (seriously, these people have freeze-dried shrimp (I think they're shrimp) in the baking aisle, but God help you if you need to find chocolate chips), both Andrew and I have shedded some weight. The downside is that I crave baked goods that I cannot make/get. The food situation is frustrating, to say the least. I have found out that nobody makes food from scratch here. The wealthy like ready-made stuff, the poor live hand-to-mouth every day, so where does that leave me? Sitting on the couch, watching Terminator 2 with a bowl of cookie dough I made on a Saturday afternoon...

Down at the Ranch

Good evening all,

Again I must apologize for the infrequency of our latest entries; being an English teacher is a lot more work than the Robin Williams made it seem! Last weekend was a real thrill as we were invited to birthday party at the ranch of a friend of a friend. In any case, one of Caroline's colleague's and her boyfriend drove us out to what they called a ranch; ahh the loss in translation continues. What we arrived at was what I would best describe as a bit of a chateau on the prairie so to speak. A very nice cottage with a large yard, pool, and patio. Moreover, by "small get together", our friends meant a party that would swell to what I would estimate at about 70 people. The beer, meat, and conversation flew communally as we were afforded the opportunity of some informal Spanish lessons, and I observed the delicate blend of Caroline's outgoing army niceties with some truly genuine Mexican hospitality. An excellent time was had by all, and Caroline's home made cookies were a big hit (the bag was empty in minutes).
Caroline and I couldn't help but notice how "dolled" up the female guests were, and how precariously uncomfortable they looked all evening. It seems that three inch heels and spandex jeans are the unofficial uniform of the twenty-something well to do Mexican debutante. The men, on the other hand, were quite care-free, and the scene around the soccer game on TV was just like a Canadian sports bar around the NHL playoffs. We retired in the early hours of the morning, and worked like mad the rest of the weekend to be prepared for Monday.
The rainy season has begun here in Northern Mexico, and a few times a week we are entertained by a truly stunning thunder storm that leaves the streets flooded. Aside from watching the rain outside my window, my weekday evening are usually spent toiling at lessons and marking. Nevertheless, I enjoy the work, and am still glad we left Canada for a spell. Both Caroline and I have entered the full swing of our U.N. club duties, but with very disparate challenges. My club is group of highly motivated, high achieving students with the prospect of competitive private high school life looming above them. They generally plan many of their own activities, and their idea of the club is somewhat of an extension to their already taxing academic studies. Caroline has more of a creative challenge of how to introduce and engage about 50 ten-year-olds into the complex world of the United Nations. It makes the days long, and occasionally rewarding.
Hopefully this weekend, we'll have some new adventures to write about, until then, I must hearken to the Siren call of my lesson planning book.

Open House

Tonight was the Upper Elementary's Open House (Andrew's Open House is tomorrow night). All the parents come, sit in the classroom, and stare blankly at me while I spew the script given to me by the school. All things considered (ie: that most of the only speak Spanish, and the speech was obviously in English), it went quite well.

The people here LOVE to give the cheek kiss, on entrance and exit. I can still smell the perfume on me. You know how you sometimes don't know if someone's going to greet you with a handshake, so you don't know how to position yourself, and then the handshake ends up being weak because you didn't anticipate it properly?? Add in the possibility of a cheek kiss, and you can then appreciate the new level of social etiquette that we have to overcome.

The kids are all good. Other than normal precociousness of grade five children, they are really well-behaved. And according to some of the parents, their children love me. It's always good to have the parents on your side...

All of the mothers are extremely well-dressed. Although I didn't wear a suit or anything, I wore the most flattering outfit I have hear, and some dressy high-heels. Because everyone here is rich, they really love to show off the bling (approx. tuition for the school per month: $1000Cdn).

I feel like I'm getting to the point were the dust is settling, and that I'll be able to cruise through and just check out tomorrow's plans the night before. Breathing space, after all of the initial prep, will be nice. Some of the parents have invited us out for excursions or offered to help us find our way around town. They are all very friendly and nice. The dichotomy between parents here and in Canada is very striking.

After a long break...

Good Evening all,

It's been about twenty days since my last blog. Inexcusably long I know; and I can only say, as Caroline has so pleaded our case, that the sheer busyness of preparing a new year of school has been overwhelming. My position has some particularly unique challenges being that I am the only 9th grade language arts teacher, and as such, am entrusted with great privilege and responsibility. Most teachers would kill to be the final say on all things academic in their faculty; however, as a new teacher, with one hundred and fifty students all jockeying for position in the next private high school, it's lonely at the top. I've had to make a lot of planning decisions with no advice other than my common sense, but managed to tread water so far. Moreover, I should say that I not entirely without aid, as Caroline's good humour, and the support of other staff at the school has been invaluable.
As for the school; well it is a modernist's paradise with expansive open spaces, a lush fountain, and botanical garden reminiscent of the old Greek schools of Socrates. My classroom is a fishbowl; all walls are glass to the interior. I have a ceiling installed projector, and best of all, a Smart board (if you're into the sort of thing). Personally, I'd just be happy if everybody would synchronize their watches and the guards spoke English. My students are quite good, but the sheer scale of everything is immense. Any activity sheet I wish to use must be photocopied 150 times :S Needless, to say, in the name of sanity (more than mere environmentalism) I have become much pickier about what I photocopy than I used to be.
I shall not indulge, though it is tempting, in describing all the events that have occurred since my last post. Caroline, in her diligence, has kept you quite abreast of our excursions. However, I will say by Wednesday of last week I was literally a zombie. I can't remember being this tired since my basic Army training ten years ago. As tiring as the schedule is, I also find the prospect of being a classroom teacher, with my own little literary agenda to run, quite rewarding, and it will be difficult to return home.
This weekend, we collapsed into a balmy Friday afternoon at another colleagues patio and engaged in a little shop talk, and a lot of discussion about our plans for future travel. As the evening wore on, Caroline and I retired early, and I'm quite sure I slipped into a coma that night.
Saturday night, I took my lady on the town, as we strolled the Santa Lucia canal at the height of a number of festivities for whose origin we were not entirely sure. We enjoyed a tantalizing dinner from a surprisingly attentive staff, but by Sunday morning we were back at the grindstone.
Alas, friends, I must sleep. I shall try to be more consistent in the future as I now have all the "start up" wrinkles out of my system. Till our next adventures.


vaya le bien!

Weekend Update

The weekend was glorious. It's not so much that the kids are bad (mine are actually pretty good), it's just everything feels so rushed that it's so nice to actually be able to sit back and relax.

The pressure is coming from the math program that the school has bought into. It's one of those things wherein the kids don't get a textbook, and all the quizzes are multiple choice because that way the students use whatever method they want to figure out the answer. Every day there's two periods of math (most of the other subjects are 3-5 times a week, versus the 10 times per week for math), so if the kids don't get something, there isn't a chance to repeat the material, unless you don't mind falling quickly behind on the schedule. The returning grade 5 teachers have been telling me not to worry about; one of them hasn't even started teaching the math yet. Some of my kids really aren't getting it (have you heard of using 'arrays' to figure out multiplication?), and there's no blocks/periods/recesses/after-school where I can catch them up.

In one week, the after-school clubs that we have to lead start. I did get what I wanted, which was the mini-UN club (grades 5 & 6), although I am splitting the management of the club with another new teacher. The reason why I wanted the mini-UN is twofold. Andrew did not have a choice in after-school clubs; as a grade nine teacher, he has to run the grade nine UN club. So my reason #1 is that we can now bounce ideas off of each other. Reason #2 is the possibility of trips. The UN clubs compete, and of course they will need chaperons. If I am involved with the mini-UN, it increases my chances of going on one of the trips. Locations will be revealed to you at a later date (after I get confirmation that my ploy has succeeded).

On Friday night, after grocery shopping, Andrew and I relaxed at a colleague's house for an hour or so, and then we came home. A light supper was accompanied by a Fresh Prince of Bel-Air marathon. It was satisfying. We caught the tail-end of the very first episode, and watched the next few after that. And if anyone reading this is scoffing at the Fresh Prince, I'd put money on it that you know the opening rap song.

Saturday was spend lesson planning etc. In the evening, we left on our very first Mexican date. We took a cab to the city centre, and walked amongst the many statues and fountains in this area. We then walked the length of the Santa Lucia canal (3-4 km one-way) and back before enjoying supper in a restaurant at the water's edge. We started with a cheese fondue, Andrew had a 10oz steak, and I had a heaping skillet of fajita (couldn't finish it...that never happens). With supper we had a very nice Mexican wine; all this for a paltry $57Cdn. Well done, I'd say...

Major Delays

First off, both Andrew and I feel horrible about the length of time since the last post. The only excuse we have is that we've been so busy with planning for school. Because today was the first day, the past week has been a whirlwind of last-minute preparations when we were stuck in 'useful' meetings put on by the administration.

The main time-consuming activity is adjusting and then re-adjusting to all the little changes that are continually thrust upon us. These people definitely see the trees, not the forest, in terms of detail. The level of micro-managing is astounding. For example, if one person decides that we want to bind the math activity sheets, we must all conform to the new standard. They are obsessed with little details, like the binding of books, when meanwhile Andrew finally got his class schedule today at 8am (bear in mind that his classes start at 8am).

The first day was crazy-busy. These grade 5 kids don't know how to shut their yaps. I tell them to put their pencils in their pencil cases, and I get 22 different questions about their erasers, their mechanical pencils, they don't have pencils, their sharpeners, what should they do with their textbooks, where's the library, what time is recess, what does the 'T' stand for in their schedule, can they have a second/third/didn't-get-their-first copy of the schedule. I know it's just their age, and how they are, but really, I don't care what they do with their pencils (other than stab each other. I get in trouble for that). And it's not just my class; my lovely Austrian colleague had the same types of trouble as I did.

Generally though, my 22 little darlings are pretty well-behaved, especially considering it was the first day. My plan is to slowly break them, until they conform to everything I say. It's like being a cult leader. Red Kool-Aid for everyone.

As for social or new sights: none in the past week. When I said we've been working, I meant it. We have been at the house or the school. That's pretty much it.

It is now time for an amusing story. On Sunday, Andrew and I went to the school to do some final photocopying etc. He went to his building, and I worked in mine. All the grade 5 classes are on the second floor. The floor consists of an open 'research area':

Off to the sides of this open area are the individual classrooms. To enter or exit the research centre, and therefore your room, outside of normal school hours, you need to swipe your access card; it only opens the doors for your grade-floor. After an afternoon of prep-work, Andrew and I decided it was time to go (each room has its own phone, we were calling each other). I packed up my stuff, and was excited to leave the area, because they turn off the air conditioning on the weekends. My thermostat read 31.9 degrees, and there weren't any fans on or air movement.

I went to swipe my access card to leave, and the sliding glass doors would not open for me. For some reason, my card was not being read by the scanner. I went back into my classroom (which opens with a normal key) and called Andrew to rescue me, as there was no other way out but through these now impenetrable doors. He came, I slide my card to him under the door, but no dice. He went in search of the security guard; of course he did not speak a word of English (and Andrew does not speak Spanish). Despite the communication difficulties, Andrew brought him up to me. Needless to say, his master key did not work. He came and went several times, signaling that he was making phone calls or going to the other campus. We really don't know what he was doing. What we do know is that I was trapped in the stifling room for almost an hour, waiting for this guy to figure something out.

The eventual solution: if you push on the sliding doors, they will swing open (a safety feature that I presume is there in case of power outages). Unsurprisingly, an alarm went off, but by that time we were past caring.

And that is how they keep buildings secure in Mexico...

Sunny Saturday

As promised, here's a rundown of our Saturday. We started the day by sleeping in after our late night on Friday. Once up, the next event on our agenda was a 30 min walk to the Novotel hotel. For $16.50Cdn you get their brunch buffet, and access to their outdoor swimming pool for the day. Although the day started out overcast (which was nice for our walk), it quickly heated up.

The buffet was really good. There was a grill-chef on duty, who asked us (in the requisite broken English) if we wanted "top sirloin or New York;" he slapped the meat right down on the grill, and cooked the steaks for us. There were small cheese-filled tortillas that you emptied skewers of meat and peppers into. Poblano chilies were cut in half, and filled with egg and cheese, then baked. Sausages were wrapped with bacon. There were salads (including a corn and pineapple one -- not as bad as you would think), and a several-gallon-sized bowl of fresh guacamole. The dessert table had (in no particular order): tiramisu, cheesecake, carrot cake, chocolate cake, little walnut rolls drenched in honey, chocolate-dipped strawberries...

Needless to say, we gorged ourselves. After about 4 plates of food, our group wallowed outside into the 40 degree heat. There weren't any shaded lounge chairs left, so we were left to bask in the sun. The wooden planks and concrete around the pool literally burned the soles of our feet. The pool's cool water provided a refreshing break from the scorching sun.

We left the hotel around 6pm. We headed home, and I took a brief nap in preparation of the night to come. We were all going to convene at the Rumba club. I was told that it was a location for drug cartel fights, but we were undeterred (and after seeing this place, I find the rumor hard to believe). The club was huge, the line-up long. In the distance, cavern-sized doors hid the source of the pounding music: all of this from the sidewalk outside. We headed in, and paid the exorbitant cover charge ($5Cdn for girls, $15 for boys) and looked around. Girls in micro-minis and stilettos. Boys in tight shirts, posturing for the girls.

There was a large balcony overlooking the dance floor and sizable stage. The house band sounded like a Spanish rock-hip-hop fusion. The crowd was teeming, and it was only 11pm. It seemed more like a concert venue than a club; the band had a team of three male and two female dancers. They were all very good, doing a mix of hip-hop-ghetto and break dancing. Very high energy. The heat off the dance floor was almost visible.

In this place, you don't line up at the bar for drinks. You make eye-contact and order with a server (for lack of a better term); our beer came delivered in a large bucket filled with ice. Despite the fact that we only ordered drinks for the eight of us, the bucket held about 12. The server was always nearby with his bottle opener to help you the second you pluck a fresh beer from the bucket (each cost $2.50Cdn). All drinks are kept on a tab; for anyone to exit the club, you needed to show a receipt from the server proving that you paid. At one point in the night, samba dancers came onto the stage in full costumes. Some male partners hoisted their female straight above their heads, and held them in this dead-lift for up several minutes while the remaining dancers twirled around the stage. I cannot emphasize enough how overall amazing the club was.

We left around 2:30 (early by Monterrey standards) and ate from a taco stand across the street. We were given a lift home by our mates and, needless to say, slept in on Sunday. Over the course of Cafe Iguana, the Luv Pub, and the Rumba, I think we have seen the spectrum of Monterrey nightlife.

Friday Night Lights

It's been a very social and busy weekend thus far. On Friday, one of our colleagues suggested we all go out for a bite, and then for drinks. She's been here for four months, and lives in Monterrey (as opposed to our area of San Pedro), so we were definitely game.

A winding cab ride took us through the crowded and shabby streets of Monterrey. We met up with everybody at a 7-Eleven. Our leader took us down the broken sidewalks, until we came to a neighborhood taco stand, although it wasn't so much a stand but what could pass for an open narrow garage, with tables and a drink-cooler. On the sidewalk was a large grill, and an up-right rotisserie of red-spiced pork. The workers eagerly rushed us in, and pulled tables together for us. The fuzzy TV mounted in the corner was playing a soccer game.

Their tacos came in two sizes of flour tortillas: 9 inch and 4 inch. I ordered the 9 inch, with both types of meat on it -- the pork, and ground beef. They brought a plate of sizzling onions and potato chunks to the table for all to share, and then my taco came out. It was huge. I garnished it with the onions, squirts of lime juice from the wedges on the table, and blob of some kind of sauce that came in old mustard bottles. The sauce was so hot that it temporarily numbed my tongue. The size of the taco made it very awkward to handle, and was delicious. We really enjoyed this place, because it finally felt like we were eating 'authentic' Mexican food. The nearest food to our house is mall food, and San Pedro definitely is not the 'real' world.

After we were satiated, we headed to the Luv Pub for drinks. It's located near a university, apparently one of the most expensive in Latin America. We entered the door, and down the dark narrow stairs; loud music spilled out into the streets. This place was a throw-back to the 70's. One raised area of the pub was carpeted, with no chairs; patrons lounged on the floor with pillows and footstools that acted as tables. Couches clustered in another area. We were guided to some floor, and we ordered drinks. A normal bottle of beer went for $2.50 Cdn. The ceiling was stapled with notes and messages that people had written. It was pretty neat, albeit dingy.

From there, we walked to our colleague's home stopping on route at a convenience store for some refreshments ($4.25 for a 4-pack). She lived in a prominently student-housing area; people had taken their kitchen chairs outside onto the sidewalks that ran between the road-less domiciles. There were guitars and singing; we just enjoyed the evening and some Beatles.

Heading to the nearest Starbucks to hail a cab, we saw our first prostitutes; the two of them looked pretty mean, and could definitely give any from Winnipeg's West End a run for their money. A cop car was talking to them as we passed by. We waved the first cab that came by, managed to articulate where we wanted to go, and tumbled into bed at the early hour of 3am.

Our Saturday adventures will comprise the next post....

Things Mexicans Seem to Like...

• Live-in help
  
• Speed bumps
• 7-Elevens (and their coffee)
• Huge malls
• Food courts in their malls
• Live concerts in their malls
• Tile floors
• Wearing shoes in their homes
• Push-up bras (women only, from what we've seen)
• Ceiling fans
• Traffic circles
  
• Highways
• High fences (topped with spikes, of course)
• Driving cars
• Bottled water (good luck finding a water fountain)
  
• Tacos (seriously, they eat them for every meal)
• Building houses on steep slopes
• Gated communities

Where the Reptiles Party

We were somewhere around Monterrey, on the edge of the desert, when the cab dropped us off outside a 7/11 that looked more like the gaping maw of a second-rate casino than the honest hovel of a indigenous tacito vendor. We waited in the parking lot as garrish, sweaty humanity sprawled and teemed around us. This was the hub of something large, rich and ready to party.

The other Canadian couple met us at about 11:30 p.m., the night is still infant in downtown Monterrey. We then proceeded down a road that can only be described as human cornucopia. Cars eased gingerly along one cramped lane like gondolas floating down a sea of people. Cigarette vendors carried trays of goods only procured behind locked cabinets in Canada, bouncers pulled double duty as flyer distributors, and still we walked deeper. After several hundred meters and tap-dancing tipsily on cobblestone, we arrived at the neon lights of Cafe Iguana. There was no line, and seemingly no possibility of one, as people continued to pour into the place.

The Cafe itself did not sell coffee; nor does its name do any justice to the maze of rooms, back stairwells, and alleys that perhaps could only be traversed by some type of lizard creature. As I walked toward the bar, the sonic boom of the base reverberated and slowed my step as if I was slogging through water. I ordered a beer, and received 1.2 litre jug; I've come the right I place, I thought.

The music was loud; violently loud when contrasted with the placid images of a crucified Christ and Buddha keeping watch over the shelves of vodka and rum. And time slipped away as we talked, sat, met and laughed. All was good and right with the world; Mexicans know how to party. No quiet wood paneled pub and pint of pilsener for them; no, we were in the thick of a mad, frenetic party that was only getting started when we slipped into a cab well after 2 a.m.

vaya le bien!

Terminator: Salvation

On Sunday we were invited out to see the new Terminator movie. This worked well, as we had planned to see it that day and at that particular theatre anyway. We cooked up some eggs and bacon for breakfast, checked our map that Andrew had bought, and headed out to the mall. This is a different mall than the one we've been to. It's more high-end, and has a Walmart beside it (we had to make a return). We left, as usual, around noon, and nearly succumbed to the 40 degree heat.

(As an aside: when the Mexican teachers hear that our walking jaunts generally take place in the early afternoon, they just shake their heads at us. They say that nobody is dumb enough to go outside then, not even their dogs.)

The walk only took about 40 minutes, and after arriving and draining our water bottle, we learned that Mexico doesn't supply water fountains in their malls.

But now the important thing: the movie theatre. This theatre is similar to the normal SilverCity theatres except for one very important difference: it has a VIP theatre. I will explain what this means by taking you through the experience.

We walked through the main, loud, crowded theatre to a hallway. Down the carpeted hallway, the noise disappeared as we approached what looked like a hotel lobby and desk. At the desk, we purchased our tickets ($10 Canadian each), and picked our seats off of flat screen monitor. The lobby area had leather couches and phones. The concessions sold popcorn and candy, in addition to sandwiches and sushi. You can order your food to be delivered to your assigned seat once the movie begins. An usher guides you to your black leather recliner, complete with cup holder in the armrest. Little tables are nested in between pairs of chairs.

No crowds. No talking during the film. No loud children. No sticky floors. Lots of leg room.

I have found heaven, and it only costs 100 pesos...

Cafe Iguana

So we discovered Monterrey nightlife. Saturday night we took a cab to 7-Eleven to meet our friend. When we pulled up to the store, we were surprised with the scene: the parking lot was full, and at least 30 people were milling about. They were all dressed in club clothes, and were either loitering or passing through on their way to the bars.

When our companions arrived, we took off on foot up the street. The foot traffic was so tight that it spilled off the sidewalks, stalling all vehicular traffic on the road. Girls in micro-minis and 3-inch-plus heels tottered up the cobblestone road. Music poured out of every doorway. It was only 11pm.

We arrived at our destination, Cafe Iguana. The music was ear-splitting. Andrew and I are unsure how people are supposed to converse, but they all seemed to manage. The club was extremely dark, with many inter-connected rooms. Murals, stone carvings, and a crucifix decorated the walls. Flat-screen TVs near the ceilings showed music videos corresponding to the pounding rock music. The club also had a large room with laser lights dedicated to techno -- a stone Buddha adorned it's wall. There weren't many places to sit, and beer came in both normal bottles and in 1.2 litre bottles (only $5 Canadian). The 1.2L bottles came in a brown paper bag.

The four of us stood around, enjoying the music, and talking sporadically. The club got very busy around 1am, and people continued to pile in. There was no dancing, just people standing, talking (shouting), and nodding their heads to the music. We left slightly after 2am, mostly because we couldn't take the volume or the smoke (anti-smoking laws don't seem to be enforced).

Even at that time of night, the streets outside were still teeming with people, most of them seeming to be just arriving. Overall, it was an interesting evening, especially in terms of people-watching.

The Sky is Falling, as are people...

Good Evening all,

It has sadly been about one week since my last post, and I have a great list of things to blame: on and off wireless connection, school work, fell asleep on the couch etc. I also blame all of the things I shall soon discuss, as they took time to ummm experience. Nevertheless, I pledge to be more diligent in the future.

On Saturday, the Canadians/Americans (we now have yanks among us) went to Cola de Caballo which I was told was going to be a waterfall. Imagine my absolute elation at the prospect of a waterfall made entirely of Coca Cola, and if it truly had been, nary would be my return. The waterfall, as it turns out, is fed by a natural stream high in the Sierra Madre. The cascading curtain over air and shale is quite a sight , and there was an extended round of picture taking before we proceeded further into the park. At the largest and most majestic part of the waterfall there are some souvenir stands, ice cream, and balconies; there was also a mysterious hole in the chain link fence leading out into an irresistible path running parallel to the waterfall. After informing our school guide that we'd be "just a couple minutes to look at the first few meters or so" we were off. Caroline and Jeremy, perhaps against their better judgment, followed me up a steep, slippery, twisting, and densely littered goat path to the headwaters of the falls. The view was worth the exertion, as I'm sure you'll agree from our soon-to-be-posted pics. We then also realized we could have saved 80 pesos had we entered the park from the somewhat backwoods road on which we were now standing. However, a few minutes and meters had somehow slipped into several hundred meters and the better part of an hour. We returned downhill in some haste to the rest of our friends who had decided that bungee jumping would be more their cup of tea.

Later, standing on a balcony in 35 degree heat, my sweaty palms extending our digicam over a precipice of 60m, I filmed what may have been the last living images of two of our Canadian colleagues as they committed the great elasticized plunge. Thankfully, they did live; I did film it, and I will ask them if I can post the video on this blog for all you morbid folks wondering what a $32 Mexican bungee jump looks like. I enjoyed my free-of-charge excursion and had a wistful nap on the ride home. Oh, to dice the chronology a bit, that morning we had tacos at a traditional highway open air restaurant. The occasion is only noteworthy because of Caroline's daring consumption of a stuffed, angry-looking pepper purchased by our ever-patient driver. I had about half a dozen goat meat tacos and an ice-cold glass bottled coke (hope this hasn't been too much product placement).

Again, I must alter chronology and tell you about the most apocalyptic thunder storm Caroline and I have every witnessed. The sky was muggy, hot, and heavy all day. The air was tense with.........heat. About two hours after arriving home for the evening, the rain started to come down innocently enough; masquerading as the light pattering nature intended for delicate flower petals and song birds to drink from. Then came Thor. The sky opened, and the cast iron clouds took vengeance upon the relentlessly blistering sun. The mountains were lit up in the dusk by massive purple lightning bolts (and that is not blogger's license; the bolts were purple!). The thunder reverberated and lightning struck at the same time; the rain drove down in torrents; the canals were filled to bursting; the foundations of the houses began to shake; and Caroline suggested we take a stroll to investigate further (just a few minutes, just a few meters). We ended up using the shelter of the trees to make our way to the neighborhood park in some dryness. There we sat under a gazebo and watched the book of nature wax hyperbolic upon the landscape, which is to say, we watched the storm in all its violent grandeur. A very exciting evening for a Thursday, but I hope these don't happen too often.

I would like to say a bit on our night at the infamous Cafe Iguana, but I think I'll post this wee tome rather than chance the inconstant wireless connection. Therefore, vaya le bien!

One Week Into It

It's Saturday night, and we're getting ready to go out. Another new teacher that's been here for a few months invited us to a rock bar -- we're meeting her at 11. Why so late? Apparently bars here close at 5 or 6 am...

As with anything, the sheen of our new home is wearing thin (although I'm not really surprised). Some of the rules at the school, our accommodations, etc are showing problems that were not evident at first. For example, everyone is so quaintly 'laid back' here that service requests for the house take often more than three weeks to fill out (or so we're told, and our current experience is definitely supporting this claim). The previous tenet in our house jammed the printer impossibly with paper. Our shower only has tepid water. And so forth. Another interesting aspect that I'm not looking forward to is we get observed multiple times over the year, and not just by one person. Our supervisor, their supervisor, all the other grade 5 teachers....TEN people in all would be observing in one go. Then they all sit around a table and discuss the 'warm' and 'cool' observations (hooray for euphemism!) in front of me, while I'm not allowed to reply. Of course I'll get to do the same to my 'colleagues,' but still it's intense.

They haven't given us very much information about teaching, or what they specifically want, or lesson plans yet. They don't seem to know themselves. They do, however, have very clear ideas on the image of the school, and how we should interact with the parents.

Everyone is very nice and friendly. Not surprisingly, all of us English-imported teachers have banded together during this orientation week. It's getting kind of tiring every time a 'helpful' Spanish speaker jabbers away at us in Spanish, with the idea that it will somehow help us learn the language. Our Spanish lessons don't start for a few more weeks, and I can't wait because it will garner us some more independence to get around on our own.

As promised by Andrew, here are the pictures from Chimpique Park. First up: the butterfly enclosure (the person in blue is one of our delightful colleagues:



The white thing has sugar in it for the butterflies.



A snap of one in flight:



And a video of some in flight:



Some views from a lookout point. These pics were taken mid-morning, and you can see that the smog hadn't yet burned off from the city. As Andrew noted, Monterrey sort of sits in the bowl of mountains, and note that there are green trees right up to the summits. We were told that the peaks don't receive snow, even in the winter.



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