Happy Halloween!..... Uh...Well?
Oh I guess it actually Valentine's day not Halloween....Ah well, Valentine's Day and Halloween are practically the same, and they are equally scary holidays. Halloween you will die by the hand of the little trick or treaters if you don't buy the right kind of candy, and Valentine's Day you will die by the hand of your oh so Special someone if you buy the wrong present. Same, Same.I hope you all make it out of the holiday alive! :)
Rainy Days....
Indonesian Skies
Everything in Indonesia was absolutely gorgeous, completely and utterly lovely, crazy beautiful, spectacular, delightful, charming, ravishing.... (you get the point)....but the single thing that amazed me morning, day and night??? The skies, Wowzer. The prettiest I've ever seen. If only I could have packed a sky or two into my suitcase like I did the pineapples, avocados, mangos, bananas,... but the sky wouldn't fit... it was too big.. I tried, I swear I did. I jumped and jumped; yelled and screamed; spun on my head while doing the rain dance... but alas! the suitcase just wouldn't zip. So I had to take it out. Next time, I guess I'll just have to bring a bigger suitcase.
Clean off the flip-flops, break out the shorts..... it's practically summertime!
Well you will be sad to know that I'm back from three weeks of traipsing around Indonesia with Mandy in their chilly 80 degree winter weather :) There are many warm tropical pictures to share very, very soon, but first a few pictures of cold, snowy Korea that greeted me this past week... Somehow snow makes 15 degree weather perfectly fine with me.. :) but the times are changing and I can smell spring in the air...today it was in the 30s and 40s! I keep telling Mandy, with weather like this it's practically time to let loose and break out the blingy sunglasses and Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini. Yet for some reason she doesn't seem to believe me.?.? Oh well, I guess I'll just get a tan first. tsk, tsk. It's her loss.
I have a confession to make..gulp..
Well you see.. I am one of those horrible teachers. The ones who, gulp... has favorites....favorite students. Yes, yes, It's true.. I know, I'm ashamed. I have sinned.. forgive me please. Really, I can barely look at myself in the mirror.. but I tried oh so hard to be like a journalist or judge or something and be unbiased..but I can't help myself, some kids are just so impossibly cool... like the Korean versions of Paul Newman or Hepburn. They're just oh, so cool.So please raise your glasses of hot chocolate and eggnog (or prune juice, for the Mr. Byes of the world) to some of the coolest kids in Asia... more tributes to come when I come back in 3 weeks with an Indonesian tan and Chinese frostbite =) Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
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Merry Christmas!..... and be jealous.
So why, you ask, would you ever think about being jealous, of me? Yes, I know what you are thinking. Jealous of her, ha! True there has rarely ever been an occasion for this jealously of Inge, well actually there have probably never been an occasion at all... BUT today is the day to be jealous..Finally it has come! for once in my long, back-breaking 12 and 1/2 years of life as a child laborer in the bitter cold of Southern Africa, this reason to be jealous of me has finally come!Why you ask, are you jealous of me? Well :::cough, cough::: I, Inge Kathleen ::cough, cough:: of the US of A, a lover of sleep and all food, and snob of cheese and Mexican food is ::drum roll please...Inge proceeds thump her sushi-stuffed belly:: I am.....uh...um..well.......Ha! got you! There is actually nothing to be jealous of. That was an empty build-up! I just wanted to see if I could string you along for two paragraphs. And it worked :DYes, I'm a jerk, what's new?But It's almost Christmas so don't hate me too much because poor me can't make it back to the States to stuff my belly with all the beautiful cookies, cakes, and pies of home... Yet, as the overachiever that I am, even though I am not in the USA for Christmas, I am still determined to achieve a food coma and have a food baby for Christmas. A extremely difficult task when there are almost no ovens to be found in all of Korea.How will I manage this food baby, you ask? Mandy and I have schemed, and I think that we have come up with a perfect idea. We will spend Christmas day in the Philippines, our plans? eating our way through Manila.
Then late on Dec 25 we will hop on a plane to the ever tropical Indonesia to start 2 weeks of hiking, beach bumming, hot springs finding, Sumatra-coffee drinking and, of course, EATING! eating mangos, pineapple, bananas and avocados, etc...... yum, yum.. but until then it's 10 degrees outside, and I'm of to put on my fancy Korean long-johns and waiting the weather out with a big ole cup of peppermint tea.. Oh and Mandy says Merry Christmas!... Yes..Yes..She's my roommate. A bit scary, no? :) She will protect me in Manila. She just has to give the creepers the her "look" and no one dares to touch us.
Flavored Gasoline...
While blasting Korea with bone-chilling winds and freeze your tush off weather, God remembered to send a little gift Korea's way.... The First Snow! The reason for snow? Well....I hypothesize that it is so we can now freeze to the bone and have fun doing....all in one lovely same breath :) Basically, it's just a less painful death. It for sure still leads to death, but just a more enjoyable one.You see, it's like drinking grape flavored gasoline vs. drinking regular unleaded flavored gasoline (I prefer the super unleaded Shell gasoline as a beverage myself).. However regardless of what gasoline you drink, you will die no matter the flavor----grape, cherry, or otherwise--- but the grape gasoline tastes "oh so delicious!" So your death just doesn't seem quite as painful. And you all know that I am a peace loving person and an advocate of merciful killings.....so bring on the Snow!
A beautiful Idea!
It's winter, and I had a wonderful idea a few weeks back! I thought if I acted like I were a bear and went into a hole to hibernate by the time I came out, I would not only get a nice layer of subcutaneous fat, but winter would be over. And, and then I would be free to frolic in the meadows of South Korea while eating a lot of food (don't ask me what I'm eating in this dream/idea, but eating is always the result of 99.9% of my wonderful ideas)Well so I tried this idea. Went into hibernation just after my last blog post, and just yesterday I peeped my head out of my cave and my plan miserably failed. I mean epic FAIL-ure!......Well.........Ok I lied, winter is still here, BUT! I did obtain a nice layer of winter flubber in the process of hibernation(what? korean food is yummy!), and boy does it keep me toasty! It's great, It's like drinking green tea or hot chocolate all day long, except there are fewer trips to the restroom involved :) It's a beautiful thing... Only four months until the frolicking with food can begin!
Ben Franklin and a Racist Winter..
It's November in Korea and the rest of the world (at least that's what the liberals on the news tell me), but the winter has already set in, in Korea. There is no fall nor autumn to ease my sun-loving self into winter. Korean winter does not mess around. no siree! It's warm one day and then BAM! One day it is COLD..BITTER..UGLY and COLD again. It was shorts weather one day and then the next, BAM! I'm wearing Eskimo Gear and ice fishing.It hates me. Not only is it cold and bitter, it is racist to boot! How do you say? Well,, every time I see it, it mocks my Mexican heritage. by blowing 10 degree winds and rain in my face, laughs and laughs and then calls me a beaner. (I know, I was surprised that the Korean winter knew racial slurs, but it does!).It's true though, I swear. All of it. 100% true.. Just like 100% the Florida Natural Juice is 100% Florida none of those impure California ones to screw it up. 100% truth. ::Inge begins to chant :: "I only speak the truth, I only speak the truth, I only speak th...."They say that the winter stays in town for at least 4-5 months. Didn't that Benjamin Franklin guy say that winter is like fish, after 3 days it smells? No, that wasn't him? Well he wishes he had had the brains ::God rest his soul:: to have said something so sageful.Jeez can a girl get a break? Don't they know that after 2 months of winter my body will shutdown automatically? Switch, bam, gone, done for, broken...no speaka Engrish,. I'm like a ticking time bomb.. 3, 2, 1 ..... except i won't explode after two months.. well at least I don't think I will..Oh shucks! ::Inge remembers that she skipped that part in her instruction manual, she runs to find it::-----Well I have no more words because the cold is taking effect and my brain is s-s-shu-u-t-t-ting d-d-d-d ooowwnnnn....Below are pictures of when it was warm.. I don't think I remember what color the sun was anymore and my dumb camera turned everything to black and white. So the pictures can't remind me. No wait, I remember the sun was.... it was blue, no that's not right..I know this one, I do, I do,.... It's at the tip of my brain! it was purple, wasn't it? like grapes! no wait.......?
The 10 K , better known as THE RACE OF DEATH...
So I went to Puebla this past weekend to run in the SimiPharmacy 10K race. What was I thinking? Is all I have to say. Lordie! I thought it would be a breeze, but if you've ever run with me you know I can run for a long time but REALLY, REALLY, SLOW, but my wonderful friends Michelle and Isabelle run like a lion is chasing them and my style is more like "oh look there's a lion behind me..hmmm..he looks hungry. I should probably think about going faster.. Nawh.. I'll just let him eat me it would be easier. I don't want to overwork myself." So long story short I tried to keep up with Michelle and that lasted for, I don't know MAYBE 5 minutes and I was running fast(for me) and then I was like screw it! That lion's going to have a good stringy dinner tonight. Pass the Tortillas and Salsa! What?!?! you don't believe I would be good with Tortillas and Salsa? I would be SOOO tasty with tortillas and salsa Oh, and a dollop of Guacamole. yummmy!!! : )
So I ran as slow, As I wanted and then to make matters worse every time you ran a kilometer in this race there was a flipping HUGE sign that told you that you had just completed a Kilometer. When I run I like to be oblivious to where I am and how much time I've run because if I'm not oblivious the race with last for MY ENTIRE life not just a really long part of it.. MY ENTIRE LIFE..
So after on 1K there was this BIG ole BLUE SIGN and I was like oh my gosh I'm going to die and then I say the 2K sign and the same thoughts crossed my mind. And then of course, I saw Michelle and Izzy running like they were on a conveyor belt in the airport while drinking margaritas and Shirley Temples in front of me. Every time I saw them I had to smile and pretend the reason I was going so slow was because I was enjoying scenic route and the 365 beautiful Catholic churches of Puebla and hoping they wouldn't know the REAL reason that I was running so slow was because I was about to pop a lung and I was praying to God that I would survive (every time I saw a church). But thanks be to Heaven and the man that encouraged me with these words "Come on Guerra!(this is the nice way of saying come on Whitie, you can DO IT!") I survived! Without walking one step. But I ran so slow that It was dark by the time I crossed the line. Oh well, you win some and you lose some. I mean that's not so bad. The race started at 8:30 a.m. I finished at dark. Good thing I don't live in Kenya; I would be eaten by the lions.
So one more random thought before I show you embarrassing and slightly and really out of focus pictures(thanks Jos). I have recently realized why people from Kenya win all the races. Well it's because they have to run from Lions. It alllll makes sense, so I bet when they're running in their ipod they have African Jungle, Safari music with some awesome drum beats going on and the ferocious sounds of lion roars. Now wonder they win; I would be scared out of my wits too. I believe it's time for me to invest in some new running music. Ok Enjoy the beautiful sweaty pictures below --->
So Why am I running again? I'm not sure I ever will know.. But Josefat and Michelle seem confident that I should refrain, but I stupidly don't listen to them
Before I realized how stupid I was for running The race.... Ignorance is Bliss!
Isabel, the Speed Demon number 1, It looks like she's sweating but it is really the margarita she spilled on herself because she was running so fast.
Speed Demon 2 ---She checking to make sure that she has enough time to run the marathon in Puebla that started an hour after the 10K---yup just like she thought she has plenty of time! She finished the marathon in 2 hours and 43 minutes."
Slow POKE!! below... Hey, but I have a good poker face, don't I? I've been practicing.
Sweaty and Happy that I'm alive. but sad that Jos can't focus my camera for nothing. Really, it is not that hard.. : )
I'm not sure what this is one. All I know is there's a pole growing out of my head. Thanks Again Jos
Again not sure about this one, but I liked it so it so goes in. And it's in focus because I pushed the focus button... Muahahaha!! I like power much more than I like 10Ks..
Pan Dulce and A List
I have to leave Mexico tomorrow and return to the states. My bags are packed, there's a bus to catch; there are tears in my eyes, and I think I'm sweating blood.... and then I woke up. Thank Heaven! But then when I woke up, I realized that I have exactly too few days left.... Yes, I know you guys will have to see me oh soooo soon. SADNESS. You guys will have to see my ugly face once again. Muhahaha! And you thought you had gotten rid of me. You can run but you can't hide for long.
However, the true is, I wouldn't worry too too much because you probably won't see me after I return for for a good bit. I'll probably be in some random Mexican panadería on Charlotte avenue in Nashville crying my eyes out into a bin of pan dulce, and then I'll probably go to one of the Tex-mex restaurants and yell at them for serving fake Mexican food. And then I'll wave my arms at them, my face will get really red and stem will be shooting from my ears and then I'll throw pan dulce at their fake Mexican food faces. Then I'll go back to the panadería and cry some more, and then find other fake mexican restaurant owners to yell at. So you guys won't need to hide, because I'll be good and occupied.Ok slight change of pace... so I haven't written in awhile uh. yeah i know I'm bad like that. Oddly enough me an communication aren't very good friends. Yes I'm a photojournalism student, but I prefer a lack of communication any day. It makes things more interesting; or it just means I have more holes to dig myself out of.
You should ask my Grandmother, I didn't call her for a good month or two after I got here and so that put me on her s-list and then I had to call her. Because really who wants to be on their grandmother's s-list? In fact, is there anything worse than being on your grandmother's s-list? You're actually nothing of a person if you're on your g-ma's s-list. First you don't get any of her love and we all know that if you don't get any love you don't get any food. And then it's just a bad situation and then you get really skinny and almost die. So therefore, of course, I called her, begged for her forgiveness and kissed her feet as best as any person could from Mexico.
I'm rabbit-trailing a lot right now. I think it's because It's been so long that I could talk about a lot and really write a nice book on the crazy life that I'm lead or actually the life that I like to pretend I lead. But I won't put you through the misery of telling you about the sketchy street hot dogs that taste like heaven and a half in a bun, what were we thinking we when decided that the only toppings that a hot dog needed are mustard and ketchup? WRONG! Or I won't go into the random fruit that looks that it's full of fish eggs. Instead I feel the need to write a list of all the things I'll be overwhelmingly happily, joyously, and tearfully be looking forward to when I arrive back to Tennessee. My psychiatrist said it would help with taco and tortilla withdrawal pains.
So here it goes.what am I looking forward to?. I feel like I'm in preschool and I've just done something bad. And for this mom and dad are forcing me write a list of all the things I'm thankful for but I don't want to write it, so I whine and jump around and whine some more. and lay on the floor and start kicking and screaming really, really loud. (you I've never done that, the whole floor and kicking routine, but I always have wondered if it would be fun. but I'm pretty sure that I've passed the age limit on trying that out. but who knows one day in Walmart I might try it out). would be likeafter I and I'm whining and telling them that I don't want too and tha. Ok sorry focus.... mmmm I'm thinking really, really, hard..... My brain is about to explode!!! Think of something, thing of something....::inge's cerebral starts to crack because she's thinking too hard; Somebody save her!:: Wait I Ok got one!! phew! And it's a good one....
1. I am looking forward to flushing my toilet paper down the toilet and not putting it in the trashcan. (I am so taking a picture of when I get to drop the toilet paper in the bowl for the first time in 4 months)
2. I can go the bathroom for free! No 3 peso charge! you don't know how happy this will make me!
3. Salads! The US of Aer's win with their ability to make an amazing salad. Did you know that Mexico doesn't have that ridiculously expensive-posh mixed green salad bags that I never buy because their too expensive? but in Mexico I Don't even have the option of buying this ridiculousness and that is crazy. and guess what you know those amazing orange tidbits know as baby carrots? the food of the gods; the food of every balanced lunch. Mexico doesn't have them either. I know!?! What is lunch without baby carrots. How has Mexico been deprived of Baby Carrots? They are the right of every human being.
4. Feeling fresh and clean... and Not feeling like I have to take a shower twice a day because the sweat is dripping of my face in the 95 degree weather.
5. American Manholes.....and not almost falling into the man holes in the sidewalk because I'm texting and walking at the same time. you know, you guys almost lost your precious Inge not from a drug trafficker but from the manholes that are left open that don't have sign that says "caution" or "Look your going die!" in any language.
6. American Apples
7. American Cellphones and not running out of minutes every week
8. I'm Looking forward to being ignored not admired for my deathly white skin. Oh Invisibility. It's a beauty!
9. 7 pesos(70 cents) to scan one sheet of paper into a computer. Ridiculous!
10. Getting off my Grandmother's S-List..... : ) this is most exciting one of all. I hope I'll be forgiven but there is much more feet kissing to be done....
Ok. this it, but I'll post some pictures soon of when Tim and Emmy came to visit me and some other random in sundries. Love you Guys and I'll see you soon.
Ok People, Inge is not dead only in heaven.
So.... ::cough:: I apologize to all of you guys out there for not writing sooner. I really wanted to, but i have been having a really good time, and when this happens i choose forget about well, everything: bed making, clean socks, proper hydration, blog writing, you know the usual.
Well from the blog title you may guess that if this is the last time you hear from me that I have just decided to set up a hammock, buy a cooler full of pineapples and mangoes, and swing my life away in Mexico. So don't worry, I'm not dead I am just enjoying the sound of the ocean waves, and the taste of fresh pineapple exploding in my mouth. What have I been doing, you might ask, that would make me want to leave my worldly goods in the US for worldly goods in Mexico? Well too much to write. And I would just feel terrible writing all of these things because I know I would be destroying at least a forest and a half of trees or a really cool rain forest with my superfluity. Yes, all of you out there, I know that I am not so actually using real paper only "virtual space". The Mexican water has not been getting to "my little brain."
But the truth of the matter is if I wrote all of my happenings and if half the people that are obligated to read them actually read them, it would be disastrous. These stories would be so long that the people who read them would need many, many bathroom breaks which in turn means much toilet paper. And on top of that many paper cups would be needed so that these gracious but misguided people would not become dehydrated. Once they rehydrate themselves that means they would have to use the water closet again, and the cycle would continue. Before you know it Mr. Pico the parrot and Mr. I'dLikeToChokeYou the boa constrictor won't have a place to live because Inge couldn't control her vicious blogging habit.
So, as a compromise with my superfluous self, I'll make an outline of my life as I know it. Take note that I typed "as I know it" because who really knows it? (wrong people! the tooth fairy does not really know it - it's a lie, don't believe it.)
Anyway, I'll put away my childhood issues and continue. My life "as I know it" could be a complete lie and a half. So take it or leave it. I know it this way, but maybe I'm a misguided whitie in Mexico. Very possible.
Ok, so I know I've been working up for a really amazing spill of my life as I know it. But in all seriousness do you really want to read about the white beaches, crazy blue water, 85 degree weather, all-day excursions to swim in natural wells and eating traditional food in the Yucatan Peninsula? I think not. Because frankly, perfect stories are perfectly boring to read and more importantly write. So because I am having a nice kick, and because I like myself quite a good bit, I'll try to steer clear of the mush.
Where do I begin? should it be the crystal clear beach sun or watching the moon rise over the beach? Sorry I promised.... No mush.
So after I spent a week in the Yucatan peninsula doing amazing things like going to Chiczen Itza, swimming in wells and being a beach bum in picturesque Tulum - this week came to an end, and it came time for me to return to my other perfect life in Xalapa. The only thing that stood in my way was the perfectly unperfect 21:32:45 hour bus ride. Yes you heard me. 21 hours 32 minutes and 45 seconds on a bus. I swear it was exactly that long. So at about 8 o'clock on Saturday night Emily, Braque and I said our farewells to our beloved beach and our quaint beach cabana, and took a taxi to back to the city of Tulum.
Our bus was set to leave at midnight, and we figured we would grab a bite to eat and then just sit at a restaurant for a good few hours contemplating the meaning of life before our lives would cease to exist on the 21:32:45 bus ride. So we arrived at the Tulum bus station and each one of us had a backpack and then there was one suitcase that had held our food, but now was just a case full of wet sandy clothes. This suitcase is one of the many antagonists in this story.
So here we were at the bus station and like smart people were planing to see if there was a way to drop of the suitcase in a locker at the bus station so we coule go eat somewhere. Yet for some unknown reason none of us really felt like asking if this was a possibility. Even though there were signs saying that they could guard this unsightly large piece of baggage in the bus station. So feeling uncourageous, we all mumble that we wouldn't mind carrying it, and leave the bus station with our backpacks and the heavy suitcase trailing behind us. We, of course, don't look odd at all.
Off to a place for grub. First stop (yes there are multiple stops in this tale): A tamale stand to try a cuisine that would hopefully be something a little less touristy, in this unfortunately touristy part of town. The tamales were good and cheap, but nothing to write home about. The only thing I could say about it is that we looked odd parking our suitcase and backpacks around the little stand and being asking for tamales. I have nothing more to say: just odd. That probably ate up about 30 minutes of our time. I think it took this long because it took forever to situate our heavy baggage.
Then we were off to the next place. Here's our dialogue
Braque - "so what do you want to eat?"
Inge - "I don't know what about you?" Braque
"well, maybe guacamole or a plate of fried shrimp that would definitely be a really good waste of money."
Emily and I - "ok, that fine." "where should we go?"
Inge - " I don't know some where not too touristy"
I'm not sure who says the next part but it was said - "well that place that has English plastered everywhere, and that place has lots of white people and that place has lots of mexicans but it doesn't have a table open, so????" "gosh! we look retarded with our suitcases"
--Excuse me? a local interrupts our deep conversation, "Do you guys need a place to stay. I have cabanas or there's a hotel that I can show you."---
Us: "no gracious, we were not homeless. we like carrying our suitcase because it good for exercise. It keeps the blood pumping."So if we had any doubts that we look odd we didn't now. So we walk and walk and walk and then we found a restaurant that didn't look too touristy, we order some guacamole and some shrimp ceviche (very far from the requested fried shrimp). So we get the food eat, and begin the life contemplation. The guac was ok, but we all knew the hard truth, the guac that we had made last night with our bare hands and plastic spoons in our little cabaña was three light years better Oh Sigh. The shrimp was nothing spectacular, but not bad. We ate everything. So at 9:42 when we were so not done contemplating life (we had 2 hours more to contemplate) the waiter interrupted us and asked if we would like anything else. No thank-you sir, we're just enjoying the night air we said politely.
"We that's great" he said, but we are about to close."
Are you serious buddy? at 9:30 at night you close? Where are we, the united states? You should be ashamed of yourself! how can you call this a Mexican restaurant? Real Mexican joints began to hop at 9:30 at night; this is when people in Mexico start to think about eating. (No worries mom, these thoughts were all in my head).
We ask ourselves "So where to next?" Inge says "I don't know"
Braque says - "well, I still could go from some fried shrimp"
All- "Ok, that's fine with me." "Where should we go to?" "Italian." "Ok."
We walk down the other side of the street while making sure to knock over tables in outside restaurants and almost fatally injuring pedestrians with our ridiculous baggage. After we successfully, harmed the people of Tulum, we found an Italian restaurant, but not before five more people ask us if we needed a hotel.
So then the waiters at this Italian restaurant were wearing togas, perfect! I'm felt like I'm in a cheap Rome ::inserts eyeroll:: We sat down, get menus, and then see that the fried shrimp is 13 dollars. And we are absolutely outraged. Our faces our were blood red really, and we didn't feel as though we should pay this price. For the past 2 months the average cost of a full course meal had been 3-5 dollars. 13 dollars? Those togas aren't worth 13 dollars. Where were we, the Olive Garden? because I did't see any unlimited bread sticks and salad. So we picked up our luggage and kept moving. yes, we actually did that. dear audience, please close your gaping mouths
So our dialogue continued as before. "So where do you want to go next?"
Braque - "I don't know" "Fried Shrimp would still be really good" "Hey look there's a restaurant that looks sorta not touristy"
"ok, that works" and now my dear audience I'm sure your asking how in the world we are even considering another place to eat? were we just trying to return to the U.S. 50 pounds heavier? Maybe, it could be fun buying a new wardrobe. So we sat down in this restaurant and continued our quest of weight gain.
we look at the menu and half of it was in English and the other half was in Spanish. ::not touristy, huh? ha!:: We order: Emily ordered quesadillas, i got a coffee(because I thought the extra caffeine will help me fall asleep faster on the bus..you know what? I think the water is getting to me) and then we got free chips, salsa, and some sort of weird Mexican relish that my Mexican "dad" makes. and It is amazing when he makes it, but at this restaurant it just didn't taste quite right. So we eat and drink some more. Contemplate life, but really i think we were contemplating how bad the food was in this town. -Stupid Tourists who make the food all touristy and such.oh shucks , I guess we were considered tourists.phewy. Well, I'm a good tourist. So take that!--
Side Note: How ironic was it that in one night we tried 4 different restaurants and didn't like any of them and the nights before we ate in our tiny cabana every night and loved the food that we made with our plastic spoons and plastic cups. I mean loved it. Like so much that we talked late into each night about how awesome we and our hand-smushed guacamole were. We also talked about our equally mad avocado hand-peeling skills, but rightly so, our guacamole was and is something to be jealous of. It was soooo good. but back to the 4th terrible restaurant - here we were ready to leave, when Braque said "wait where is my wallet?"
Then Emily said - I hate when things like this happen.
Inge said - Man, this blows. I hope he didn't really lose it because-man, this blows."
he searched some more. 5 or 6 minutes more
Inge said - what about that front pocket?.
Braque - after 2 more minutes of searching - looks up sheepishly with the wallet in hand. We all say - Dios Mio!
and then with 4 restaurants under our ever increasing buckles we decided that since it was 11:36 we should waddle over to the bus station and pray that we would fit through the door. And that other restaurant down yonder that might have fried shrimp would just have to wait until the next time that we visited Tulum. oh sadness. ::I hope you hear the sarcasm dripping from my voice::
I wish I could say that this concluded our night of bad culinary experiences and that the three amigos and their annoying piece of luggage walked off into the night full or fat whichever adjective you prefer, happy, and ready for a restful bus ride. Yet alas, this fortunate fate was not ours. Our lives were about to be traversed with yet another pain. Oh! the gods were not smiling upon us on this night. We got on the bus and seven hours later. Oh! my stomach and then Oh! his need to vomit, Oh, her need go the bath, but wait! me first, I get to go to the bathroom first! It's MY TURN! I said as the world turned into Slow Motion and the only thoughts in our head were of survival --- and then from was people told me later, there was a lot of cat scratching, blood-curdling war cries, people dropping left and right. Babies crying for their mothers. And Emily and I were rolling on the ground fighting for bathroom rights. And guess what? I won. She'll tell you that she won, but she's lying. It was me. Yes, I lost an eye in that battle, but I think that the inch-deep scratch is going to heal quite nicely. No worries.
Why did we do it? Why did we eat at 3 restaurants? Oh why? What were we thinking? I don't know, but we had a good 21 hours 32 minutes 45 seconds to contemplate the Whys of our stupidity.So truly horrible, no? but here are pictures the 97.98% of my time there that was filled with amazingness:
The spectacular carriage ride with nancy, michelle, and shauna through Merida, where we picked out which houses we are going to live when we grow up into big girls:
Shauna, at Chitzen Itza.
I like to believe this is a hard core photojournalist that didn't want to miss the sunrise so he just went outside in his undies because the picture was more important than the proper clothes or it could be that he was being too lazy to put clothes on. but I choose to believe the photojournalist bit. It seems more noble. Who knows? Ok, Fine. your right he was just too lazy. Well, I can dream right?
Pics of our Sweet Cabana.
My Ocean
and finally in front of my ocean.
I was going to send a "wish you were here" postcard. But I felt as though the above a "you wish you were here, don't you?" picture would be more true to my generally hateful personality. Love you guys, and I hope you miss me a lot. :)
Secret Service Style or Not?
So quick question: Is my name bad enough that I need a Mexican pseudo name? If so, what do you sympathetic readers suggest? Let me know; this is a chance to be anyone I want to be! My life will be rebirthed!... Literally. Well, i hope not. I could be Waldo, Stanley, Pam, Angela or, or even Dwight! Oh, this is sorta cool. It's like I'm in the Secret Service or something! Or should I just stay Inge Hooker? Hmmm. Oh the quandary!
I'm Scarred for Life.
Hello again. Yes, I'm am updating my blog -- Surprise, surprise and no I'm not updating because i don't want to unpack my suitcases-because I really, really do want to unpack. In fact, there is nothing more that I want to do than unpack. But I have contracted a rare disease know as "Cantaunpacknothingcitis." My doctor says it's incurable, and if i even try to unpack anything, i'll break out into hives. And hives are not pretty. So here I sit, and there my suitcase sits so close and yet so far away!
-- Please forgive the pain cause by reading this longwinded gibberish know as my writing style, but remember I am a heartless person, so really you should expect it from me by now.---
Ok. so here i am in Mexico enjoying my life. Inge's life = fairies waking me up from my slumber, sipping peach nectar, the floating men of veracruz, fresh ocean breeze-- Sure perfection can get monotonous, but pain builds character. And I must suffer on. I love the weather, the people, the food, and about everything you can think of. But, there were many things I have learned this week that I swear if this knowledge doesn't cause a deep scar in my soul and cause me to pay thousands of dollars for psychological therapy than nothing will. My world of perfection has crashed and burn, and this my friends is how it happened. ::cues the sad oh so dramatic violin music::A few nights back i went out for coffee with some friends. - yes i actually do have friends, despite common the belief- I am really not that hideous looking-- We went to a student hotspot called La Chiva, a very cute little place, nice atmosphere, yadi, yadi, but this is really not the point of my story. So i'll get to point ---> Story Title
Why Inge is Scarred for Life
So here I am enjoying some caffeinated beverage because I enjoy drinking toxic beverages. As I sipped death in a cup at La Chiva, a Mexican university student comes up to our table introduces himself. We all go around the table telling him our names - Sarah , Joe, Miguel, etc, ect - until he gets to me i say "Inge" (no surprise there).
He says - Oh, like chinga right (then he chuckles)? and not to be the stupid person that doesn't understand Spanish, I'm like Si?!? because of course I know what that means? Not. (That was stupid, Inge, Numero Uno rule of foreign travel - don't agree to anything someone says unless you know what the heck their talking about). So I dumbly agree it's like chinga, and he laughs and then he's like No, No! ::this is where i'm slightly---no, i can't lie; I was Really confused,:: But my face was so poker-like. It was so good. It was like when some one asks you if they like their outfit (which, mind you is horrendously ugly), and you look them straight in the eye as you say in a ---Oh! so sincere voice. "That's such a nice color on you; it just brings out your eyes!" My face was just that good- or at least I like to think it was that good.
However, in the back of my head, I was confoundedly confused the entire night. The synapses in the little cerebral just weren't firing and connecting like they should have been. What is "chinga"? I had a really bad feeling about this. I attribute the bad feeling to my amazing Womanly Intuition
Next move? That night I jumped on my trusty little computer and used God's gift to the world: The Google search engine ::search phrase? -- "chinga Mexican slang " :: Ay Yi Yi! Now the murky waters of my brain were becoming clear! The gray matter up there became more gray or less gray whichever one happens when you become less stupid.
So, you ask, what does chinga mean? Well, let me take a moment to give you an idea - let's play a game of fill in the blank, shall we? -- What is the most offensive word in the United States? Ok. I'm confident my viewing audience is as smart as the average 5th grader. Now, take that word and add "your mama" to the end. Do you get my drift? So common phase in Mexico? "Chinga Tu Mamá!"
Ok so here you sit thinking -- Chinga and Inge are not the same word. They sound very similar, rhyme very well, but not the same.-- "Why are you being so very dramatic, Inge?" Well, this is where my story become even more traumatic. While living my perfect life and eating my perfect breakfast (yogurt, fruit[I think that day it was fresh papaya], and granola) with my host mom, our conversation somehow steered toward offensive words in Mexico. I think it was because my Spanish is not quite so good yet, and I misspoke and she thought I had said something about offensive words and we got on the subject, somehow? Not sure? Anyway---
So we are talking, and I mentioned that my name is very similar to Chinga. Then she start to chuckle, shake her head, and laugh. A little too hard, I think, and then she's like who told you? ::first question in my head is "why didn't YOU tell me?" You can't protect me forever, Mom!:: And then she further explains that the phrase - Chinga tu mamá! is probably highest offense in Mexico. So in order to be a little less offensive Mexicans say "Inga tu mamá!" It's practically the same thing she says between choking laughter. -- Ay, Yi! Yi! ::Just then my perfect fairy tale world crumbles like a cooke and then I drowned in milk.::
----So while writing this gibberish, I just realized something. I met a family partying at the Veracruz Carnival a couple weeks back, and me and my friends introduced ourselves and after i said my name --- Oh, THAT is what he meant when he said "Inge, tu mamá!" and then he laughed. Oh, THAT explains the looks I been getting after I say my name -- Oh, Oh, and when that local said "Inge, that's a strange name, no?" Sigh, the gray matter is unfortunately becoming grayer.----
Now, lets return back to the breakfast table. There she sat laughing. No, I will correct myself - she was practically crying because she was laughing so hard at my pain. And then when she realized what my last name "Hooker" means in the United States, she was practically rolling on the floor--it true: i can't make this stuff up! Her laughter overflowed into my once perfect bowl of granola and fruit - my entire name is a bust! ---
Thank-you Mom and Dad, Love you too! I appreciate your overflowing love for me. Not only have you given me the last name of Hooker - my first name is the f-word in Mexico --- it's like double jeopardy. You couldn't just name me one questionable name, could you? No, you had to give me a double dose of sketchiness. And isn't it convenient that the sketchiness of both of my names coordinate so very well together? --- how many times can you say "double awkward turtle?" (sorry for the high school reference, it was necessary) --- Because really, maybe i DO need More and Longer awkward silences after I tell people my name. I really think what I need is One more Mexican giving me the "what the heck did you just say your name was?" look.
Like I said, I must need to build character very, very badly. Ah ¡Dios Mio! I think I'm going to change my name to Jane Doe and then go live in a hole. Well, since I've decided to live in a hole, I'm not sure I can continue blogging. If the hole has wireless, then maybe. signed INGE HOOKER ::I feel like I just cussed after I typed that, I'm going to go wash my hands off:: Inge pulls out her bottle of Purell hand sanitizer and scrubs and scrubs and scrubs::
First too many words, now too many pictures, I apologize.
I want to dedicate it to all the Birds fans in the world and those in Michigan, Kentucky, and Tennessee. Enjoy!
Read moreSegundo Dia!
Hey guys look at me my title is all Spanish and such. I kill myself with my mad skills.. I wonder how you say mad skills in spanish because I would type it over and over if I knew... So I was going to post another update yesterday before I left at 4:00 am to go to the airport, you know the update the world on my deep dark feelings before I leave the country for the crazy world of mexico, but I procrastinated. So I didn't. I was going to write on my bus ride into Xalapa but my battery was practically dead so I didn't. I was going to post last night when I arrived in Xalapa, but my host mother fixed me a huge meal that was sooo good and so not from a mexican restaurant that I danced inside. By then I forgotten that I that the word blog existed in some universes, and I blacked-out on my bed. So here I sit in my bed the next day and no i did not sleep all day..
So I'm sitting here Tuesday and I feel like talking about my travels yesterday is much like eating spaghetti that has been left out on the counter for a day or eating refrigerated french fries, so if you feel the same way please refrain from reading any further because there is nothing I hate more than to eat cold fries..
but I'll give you the fast facts of the day so you won't have to read further.
Last Breakfast in America - Plain Bagel with cream cheese
Last Food in America - Mini Pretzels and Orange Juice and many pieces of Orbiz sweet mint
First Food in Mexico - Nectar of a Peach Juice(yum!), Cookies, and some amazing peanuts (this was the bus food which was included in the fare) -- Airplane food needs to ride a bus in mexico to learn what snacks are supposed to taste like.
First Home-cooked Mexican Food-- Chicken, Mashed Potatoes, Salsa Verde, and rice. Doesn't sound amazing but oh! it was.So i get to the Nashville airport where Emmy and my Aunt Toni graciously drove me at 4:30 a.m. we get to security and they say goodbye both with tears in their eyes almost like I was walking to my death. I didn't cry so I felt like I was a bad person, but I can't help if I'm heartless. No worries guys i've got my 1 oz bottle of Purell in my purse just incase I get mugged by a dirty person. I got this trip, No sweat. Other than that my flight from Nashville to Charlotte was uneventful. no bomb scares or nothing.sigh.
But now my flight from Charlotte to Mexico City was Crazy! I sat by this business man from Charlotte whose legs were about 3 times too long for his seat so tall that he couldn't place his lap table horizontal(it made for a good chuckle within) he had been to mexico many times and knew his way around and I you know what he told me? his word of advise for me (drum roll please!) "Don't drink the water!" Crazy, no.!?! O.k. so that wasn't really that impressive, but I'm trying to make it feel more like your eating room temp fries and not the cold ones.
but speaking of the whole water situation I haven't drank the water. my hydration liquid so far have been a little juice, pepsi, and 2 large cups of coffee. So the majority of my liquids are dehydrating me further. I don't sound like a very intelligent person. well shucks, now i'm worried that my IQ is decreasing rapidly. who cares that I'm dehydrated, that's much better than being just plan dumb no amount of water contaminated or otherwise can fix that. I wish the too tall man warned me about this decrease in intelligence.I regress, i arrived in mexico city at about 12:15. It wasn't so bad. Nothing too much like I had imagined it. There weren't that many people there, and there weren't creepy guys everywhere bumping into me, ripping my purse from me because i was the only deathly white person the airport. you know I think the reason I felt so comfortable was that there was a Starbucks in the airport and just seeing the green round sign gave me the strength of a lion or something that's crazy strong.
::side note - I'm long winded::
so after i stepped off the plane in Mexico City this is when the real adventure starts. First I got some pesos by speaking about three words of spanish to the money exchange people (so proud of myself). With pesos in hand, I went to find my bags. it turns out that one of my bags were lost. Ah it's not a big deal says the luggage man so very confident that it would be found and sent to my home in Xalapa in a day. so I readily believed him because frankly I would rather not carry around two heavy bags in a strange airport.
I got through customs quickly. and then i was off to find a taxi to take me to the mexican city bus station. easy right? ha! not so much because there are the good official taxis(yellow) and the other taxis (green Volkswagen beetles) that are sometimes not so good for incompetent whities to take (these taxis might rob you blind, leave you in some dark alleyway, and give you a tasteless taco for dinner just out of spite).
feel free to take a bathroom break
Most people get a plane from mexico city to xalapa instead of the bus, but it was cheaper not to. So guess what? this penny-pincher jumped at the opportunity to save money.
I walked around the airport and asked the security guard where to get a taxi so I could go to the bus station. There were a series of misunderstandings, and I ended up going to the bus station in the airport which had a bus going to Xalapa but not for another 4 hours. That wasn't going to happening. I figured I needed a taxi to the bus station right? so I was off to find a legit taxi driver. Some random person in a nice suit asked if I needed a taxi I said yes(dumb inge, so dumb)
he tried to take my luggage to roll it for me. that's when I went all psycho and was like "uh, no, you didn't!" but I followed him rolling my bag firmly in my hands for a minute or two. I thought he was going to show me where to buy a ticket for a taxi. Little did I know he was a taxi driver. As we got closer to the outside, i saw a green taxi on the road. Though it probably wasn't his, I re-birthed the whole psycho gringo personality and told him I didn't want to ride with him, but i said "gracious" so it fixed any rudeness.
So I was off to asking another person how to get a real taxi or a bus to xalapa. hmmm.. after much bad spanish which led to much confusion an english-speaking person said I could take a bus from the airport to Puebla and then take a bus from puebla to xalapa. sound good to me. so that's just what I did.
So I was off to Puebla (well first I tried to get on the wrong bus until the ticket-taker lady was like "dumbie your bus is after this one" and think she even mumbled stupid american..) ok, so I finally off to Puelba, and this is when my life turns into a movie. genre: cheesy/inspirational
The only thing it needed was a soundtrack. It was amazing to be able to travel the streets of Mexico by bus. I really got to see everything the pink and retro green stores, coca-cola and john deer trucks, people working in the fields, the laundry hanging out to dry, or the burro wagons and to realize I had actually made it to Mexico and I was going in the right direction. I thought to myself this was probably one of the first times in my life taking that cheap route actually gave me the better experience. So with that thought I, of course, fell asleep, content with my perfect little movie life.
Two hours later, I arrived at the Puebla bus station went inside tried to buy a ticket to get me to Xalapa they said that I needed to be at another bus station called CAPU. this is where my perfect movie pauses what's CAPU? scared that I got off at the wrong stop I rushed outside to make sure I was in fact in Puebla. The kind bus driver assured me that I was, and I only needed to take a short taxi ride to the CAPU station. Ok easy enough, I jumped into the taxi with a kind old driver we talked in basic spanish the entire way. my movie restarts
I arrive at CAPU get a ticket for a bus that was leaving in 2 minutes so I ran though terminal asked about five people "Donde esta?" held up my ticket and gave them the dumb stare. it worked.
I got on my bus plugged in the complementary ear buds and proceeded to watch Freak Friday in Spanish while the mexican countryside rolled by. sigh I feel tears about to well up. --Scratch that-- I just had to sneeze.
three or four hours later about 8:45 I arrived in Xalapa.
fast fact: Two bus rides, a taxi, and a phone call = less than 40 dollars
I called my host mother to let her know that I had arrived at the station she picked me up with her son and daughter in-law and we're off to the my home for next four months. On the way we almost died. We were inches away from hitting a car, and I dramatically clutched the seat in front of me cues dramatic music then I realized no one else was concerned that we would hit the car two inches away. I slowly loosened my death grip, the music faded, and leaned back in my seat trying not to act so foreign.
So we arrive at the house, and it is a really neat little house with a stairs leading up to the house and flowers surround the house almost like a terrace. I get to my room its very simple but I have a huge window, white walls (a great place for all my terrible paintings I will do in art class and my awesome audrey Hepburn calendar-thanks amanda) then I have a bed with a disney princess on it. Which princess I'm not too sure the one whose a gypsy and has a goat? I feel like I'm regaining a piece of my lost childhood.
After I regained my childhood my host mother asked me if I had already eaten dinner. I said I had eaten peanuts, cookies and lots of gum. Then I give her the "I'm emaciated" look and she fixed me dinner. See I told you I had mad skills. I ate lots, talk about an hour with her in spanish it's the rule no english, and then I slept for a really long time....
Ok movie over, classed dismissed, wake up!, I'll post a study guide tomorrow hitting highlights of this unnecessarily long post for those of you that fell asleep so you can act like you care about my sundry travels. --- Ok see you in a couple of days. Remember yesterday was the last day to drop this class so your stuck with this class the entire semester -- attendance mandatory... p.s. I'll post my awesomely generic bus pictures in a day or two..
Sunday Morning
Hey everybody! I'm getting ready to leave for Xalapa, Mexico. A city where malaria is king, i'll be in jungle, and it's unsafe. No I'm kidding stop worrying it's perfectly safe. It's much like Cinderella's castle protected by the great Robin Hood! or Green Gables with dancing sugar-plum fairies and bunnies that can talk and sing on key (pick a song, they're practically as good as Diana Ross and the Supremes).So I thought, I would be like every other boring person in the world and start a blog. Because everyone wants to know what Inge is doing in Mexico because she is just SO interesting::insert the sarcasm here:: Yes, unfortunately I have succumb to the blogging life form. If anyone wants to stop being my friend for this reason you have every right; I love you guys. I've had fun being your friend..To all of you who still sorta don't hate my guts right. hi mom! it is now 6:16 on Sunday Morning and i'll be leaving tomorrow at 6:15 a.m. not looking forward to dragging certain wonderful peoples out of the bed at 4:00 for the cold ride to the airport. Life forms are barely out at this time of night...(people who work at Starbucks don't count, they're not real)I'm not done packing, sigh, and I should be. I started laying out clothes 4 or 5 days ago. I spread them so neatly on my bed. And they have just sat there for days. You may ask where did I sleep? or if you really know me you know that finding a place to sleep is really no obstacle. There's not a wood floor that was too hard for my sweet dreams. One night, I slept on the couch, another I didn't sleep, another I crashed on emmy's bed and then last night I slept a under the massive piles of clothes.My room is still a wreck of clothes, film, more camera stuff, and other random things that I might need what if I get to mexico and they don't sell water-less hand-sanitizer? God forbid! I could die or worse: I could die with dirty hands so needless to say, I've got my little bottle of Purell. It's Oh so cute!The point of this tirade? I should be packed and though I have thought about packing for many many days; it didn't seem so appealing so here I sit thinking about packing and that I really should do it but what could I do instead? I know, start a blog! genius! I impress myself sometimes.... Well thank-you for making it this far down the page and diverting my attention from the tasks at hand. I'm going to go pack or think about it really really hard and then I'll be back to blogging in a couple days when I'm thinking super hard about unpacking.