Feliz Dia de los Muertos and Happy Halloween

I took the following pictures at UNAM. Every year, there's a different dead person honored by the entire university. This year, it was Edgar Allan Poe, celebrating 150 years since his passing. Each college and organization did a tribute altar for him, and all altars are displayed for the week in the huge plaza at the university. The papier-mache figures are so awesome; here are few highlights:

Random Photo: Dia de los Muertos Altar

To honor loved ones and/or important people who have passed, altars are made for them. They contain food (including pan de muerto), specific flowers, candy skulls, photos, and knickknacks. They're starting to show up here and there throughout town. Here is the altar for Jose Consuelos, the man who started the language program I attend at the university. It's the 50th anniversary of his death, so I think they made his altar extra nice this year.

Jose Consuelos, I salute thee for creating my cool language program. Muchas Gracias!

(It's much more interesting and detailed if you click on the image to enlarge.)

Cuernavaca

Matt and I hopped a bus for Cuernavaca yesterday. Cuernavaca is the capital of the state of Morelos. Okay, here are some numbers. Cuernavaca is a medium-sized town (population, 400,000) about 65 kilometers from Mexico City. The bus ride took about 90 minutes. The highway circumvents some mountains (lots of switchbacks and glorious views), so it takes a while longer than the kilometric distance would have you believe. Like a lot of Mexico study abroad students, this is where Matt learned Spanish (ten years ago).

The bus ride made apparent all the smogginess of Mexico City. When you're healthy and amidst it daily, you tend not to notice the extent of the pollution. Yuckers. The drive also made apparent the shanty-towns outside of the city, aka the often invisible, forgotten (albeit very real) segment of the population.

Cuernavaca was more hustle-and-bustle than I expected. Here, I thought we'd be getting away from the craziness of the city, but Cuernavaca's got its own frenzy (on a smaller scale). Also, it was soooo hot and humid there; we were so sweaty and salty on the bus ride home. Lots of young kids selling things, too. As a person who has a soft heart for children, it's difficult to see them "working" at 6-years-old, and it is very hard to ignore their whimpers. But it's also sometimes necessary.

This is not so say that Cuernavaca does not have its charms. Alas, it's a lovely place for someone equipped with their little digital camera.

The Cathedral. Built in the 1500s. Made of lava-rock. Totally awesome and huge. I loved it. Here I am, standing outside of it.

The beautiful frescoed interior.

Below, one of three ancillary chapels at the cathedral. This one was so "loud," compared to the cathedral. Doesn't it look delicious? I just wanna take a bite.

Next, we crossed the street to experience the botanical garden. We happened to come to Cuernavaca on the weekend that the town was celebrating gastronomy. In the botanical garden, they were getting ready to film some sort of Iron Chef-Mexico.

Below, a bird of paradise at the garden. Below that, a large-ish spider in the middle of its web, to scare my mom, because that's what I do best. Love ya, Mom!

After a delicious lunch at a vegetarian restaurant, we headed over to Cortes's palace. "Cortes the Killer"(the name of one of my favorite Neil Young songs, by the way) built his castle atop Aztec ruins, some of which are still visible. The museum houses both indigenous artifacts and Spanish colonial stuff. On the second floor is a huge mural by Diego Rivera. I took a picture of a snippet of the huge thing.

Here's a rad footbridge connecting the palace to the main square. Underneath, cars rush by while loads of Mariachis-for-hire wait on benches! I don't like taking pictures of people, because to me, people are people, not sights, but I did hurriedly attempt to take a picture of the mariachis. Because of my rashness and attempt at being covert, the pictures of the mariachis didn't turn out.

After the palace, we walked south to Cemanhuac, the school in which Matt studied. Cuernavaca is very hilly, so our walk was exhausting in the heat. Fortunately, we saw lots of charming things along the way. Matt and I share an affinty for anything art-deco. We loved the tiles and windows on this one.

After Matt explained to the security detail at the entrance of the Cemanhuac that he went to school here ten years prior, the guard let us in to scope it out. Here is one of Matt's "classrooms."

Matt's host mom here was a wealthy lady who treated him well (Matt and I have both heard horror stories of host families, so Matt was lucky and grateful). She lived in a gated community very close to the school. Matt asked the guard at the gate if she still lived down there. The guard told him that she had died a couple years ago. That was sad.

Despite the disappointing news about Gloria Ramirez, Matt's host mom, we had a nice trip and might even go back for another trip (but only if it's cloudy. Too Texas-like hot for me!).

This Week...

Seeing: This past Sunday, we took advantage of free museum day (museums are free each and every Sunday!). One of the museums was the Museo de Arte Popular. It was great! Floors and floors of cool folkart. I'm totally taking any potential visitors here.
Some examples:

















Hearing: Really, really, really bad Spanish in my class (including my own). I'm having a lot of fun, though, and my abs hurt afterwards from countless belly laughs. This class is just one big culture explosion (and sometimes clash); we're all from different parts of the world, and we're trying to communicate in Spanish, knowing only one verb's conjugation. I'll write more about it in the near future.

Eating: We're getting closer and closer to Dias de Los Muertos here in Mexico. In the weeks leading up to the holiday, the grocery stores and bakeries stock special treats (including chocolate skulls, etc.) expressly for the holiday. One of those treats is Pan de Muerto; or, bread of the dead. Apparently, the origins of this baked good involved eating it at the grave of your loved one and reminiscing. Nowadays, people just seem to eat them like crazy this time of year, because they're tasty. I saw a man's cart full of them one day at the grocery store. They come in all different sizes, too. Central Market, Austin's gourmet grocery chain, sells a sub-par version that we tried last year. We decided hesitantly to try one again last week, and we've been eating them steadily ever since, not looking back.

Pan de Muerto is fluffy but also a little flaky and buttery (though not as flaky/buttery as croissants). There are some harder knobs of bread on it, and they're supposed to resemble bones. The bread is subtly sweet and has a slight herby taste. Matt and I couldn't pinpoint what that slight taste was. Matt wondered aloud, "Is it citrus?"

I retorted, "Am I tasting cardamom?"

Turns out, it's anise. Whatevskis, it's delish. PLUS, it's coated in granulated sugar for my enjoyment.

Here I am, ready to stick the whole thing in my boca. Do you see the twinkle in my eye due to this prospect???












Wearing: My usual bright-colored clothing. I always knew I liked color. Yeah, so?! Here I get the stares. Of course, this could be for a number of reasons. At 5'7", I'm pretty tall for a woman in this country. Plus, I'm shaped like a boring old ruler. Also, my hair is short, stick straight, and medium brown, compared to lots of beautiful, long, wavy black hair. Blah, blah, blah. But I've also noticed that my style, apart from a few girls in my neighborhood, is very different. Not to be rude, but the clothing style's sort of boring here. Lots of blacks, dark browns, and blues. Lots of long sleeves and only the basic bootcut-style pants. People are wearing puffy black jackets when it's 63-degrees, and I'm sweating in short sleeves. Many of the women wear black heels; I don't wear heels, especially with all the walking I do--I wear Vans, tall boots (flat heeled), or sandals. I've always been a bit of a ogler myself, so no worries. Anyway, I can't afford new clothes to fit in, and besides that, I like my 'drobe! However, sometimes I do feel like a big technicolor goof.

Random Photo: Nature vs. Nurture

As previously stated, I have a fascination with dilapidated/vacant structures. Here, when buildings are closed down, when businesses die, when places are deemed unsanitary/unsafe, the local government plasters them with these big signs declaring, "CLAUSARADO," or closed. Often, I peer in, imagine what existed there, and try to determine what led to the demise. I do this, because I'm a dork and like hypothetical situations.

The other day, we walked by this half-pink building; the vivid color caught my eye. Then, I noticed its broken-down identical other half. I pondered, was it possible that the big earthquake of 1985, which hit my neighborhood hard, damaged half of this building beyond repair? There are other buildings standing (sort of...leaning, I should say) around town that seem to be irreparable victims of the quake. Or, did someone just "let this one go?" Then, I remembered a picture I took in New Orleans a year-and-a-half ago. Two identical mini-homes. One broken-down, one looking snazzy. The snazzy one also happened to be bright pink. At that time, I pondered, was it Katrina that did that to the sad house, or was it owner's neglect? In the grand ol' scheme of things, it doesn't much matter to you or me, but here they are, nonetheless. When you paint half a house pink and the other half looks as if it might fall down, you're drawing attention to the weaker half, and that's just, I don't know, weird to me.

Mexico City (click on image to enlarge):

New Orleans:

Lessons

Productivity has commenced! My first Spanish class since 8th grade (15 years ago-ugh!) started yesterday. I am taking the class at the University Autonomous Universidad de Mexico (UNAM, for short). It's the large-and-in-charge university here. "Oh, Christine, large, huh? Well, you attended the University of Minnesota, land of 35,000!" To put it into perspective, UNAM has a faculty of nearly 35,000 and a student population of 306,000! Matt and I toured the campus a couple weeks into our time here, and we were so exhausted from its expanse.

There are a lot of awesome, psyched-out murals on buildings throughout campus. Here's one from the medical wing.


















Here's another. This is the library. All four sides have a mural, each side is different.
















Anyways, back to my class. I'm in one of the most basic of basic classes (again, I took one trimester of Spanish back in the heyday of Pearl Jam, OK Soda, and Nancy Kerrigan). There are a couple hundred extranjeros (foreigners) taking Spanish classes in this program. So far, I haven't met/observed anyone else from the U.S. In addition, I haven't met/observed many other non-smokers. Both weird, but both true.

In my lowly basico class, there are about 12 students. There are a few students from China, a smattering from Korea, two from Egypt, one from Taiwan, and one from Northern Ireland. I'm definitely in the upper-echelons of the geezer scale. In other words, some of these kiddos were practically toddling with pacis whilst I last "learned" Spanish and mourned Kurt Cobain's death in real-time.

All of the women in the class are very young, shy and cluster together, so on breaks, I talk with the guys (in English, peppered with Spanish) while they smoke and smoke and smoke. Today, I talked about Barack Obama and Kim Jong-Il to a South Korean businessman, I comiserated and longed for Indian food with the guy from Northern Ireland, and I told a Danish dude from another class that my brother's girlfriend was from Denmark (he thought it was less interesting than I did. Oh well).

So far, the class is easy. I've been studying on my own for the past couple months and, thus, have a slight leg up on the competition (or, erm, my classmates). My teacher likes me and calls on me a lot, and I think this is because at 29-years-old, I just don't care anymore. In other words, as time's gone by, I've lost a lot of inhibition (or dignity?) and will happily and convivily read and act out the contrived dialogues/conversations from the textbook for the class.

The past two days have been funny, awkward, and almost even fun. So, yeah...hasta luego (or something).

Playa del Carmen

I'm not gonna gloat (too much) and put up tons of pictures of the beautiful beach--especially after this past week, when our friends and family have braved some ugly, wintry weather in the Middle West. This was our balcony view of the beach, though. Not bad.














Matt and I were spoiled this week. We are usually no-frills travelers. Often, when we arrive at the hostel at which we're staying in any given city, I am crossing my fingers, saying to myself, "Please, please let it be better than the one that time in Lower Manhattan. You know, the one where I got up to use the communal bathroom at 3:30 in the morning, half-asleep, only to be scared stiff in my pjs by a big, burly dude in the very narrow corridor doing bench presses in PITCH DARK."

Quite succinctly, this was luxury; however, Matt and I were most excited to use the quotidian stuff that we don't have at our apartment in the D.F. Yay, we can use the water to brush our teeth! Not only that, we can drink the tap water! There are hot showers! There's a microwave!

Below, the resort and the balcony jacuzzi in our unit.


























We took many walks along the seashore. It was interesting. There were a lot of abandoned/semi-finished houses, palapas, and cabanas. I didn't expect that. I am always fascinated by deserted structures (don't know why), but these were very strange. I couldn't tell if hurricane Dean had destroyed them a couple years ago; or if they were the victim of some overzealous American developer whom had gotten in over his head with the whole global economy meltdown thing and realized he couldn't make a quick buck, thus abandoning his project. Some seemed to be occupied by squatters, and some just sat there awkwardly, with the gorgeous waves crashing in.





























The resort was a couple miles away from the city of Playa. We went into town a couple times. The town had an annoyingly touristy little street 5th Ave (very Cancun-ish), but once we ventured in a bit, where Spanish (and not English) is actually spoken, we were quite charmed. Playa is basically a sleepy little country town with hard-working mexicanos just trying to make a living.

Below, a picture in the city (wish I would've taken more); the lovely view from the restaurant with yummy Veracruz-style (and other styles) fish; and Matt enjoying the view with one of life's little pleasures, Coke (sans high fructose, of course) in a bottle.


















































Shout-out to my wonderful in-laws, Rod and Linda, for treating us so well this week. Honestly, it was difficult to say goodbye to them. I miss Family! Thanks, also, to my fantastic parents for dog-sitting in Minnesota during this terrible week of weather! Hey, Rod and Linda, don't forget, "Who let the dogs out?!" Ahem, sorry, little inside joke.

This Week...

Why am I so exhausted after a week of ocean?? No good reasons. But there is no denying it, I. am. so. wiped.

Seeing: Besides ogling the crystal-clear ocean, colorful coral, gorgeous fish, spiny sea urchins, and, with much dismay, observing TONS of bad tattoos and older people doing TONS of bottom-shelf tequila shots, I saw a lot of this:













(it's the view I had while lying down by the beach-- the palapa shading me from the sun).

Hearing: Waves crashing. Duh.

Eating: Turns out, I'm a big fan of Veracruz-style fish dishes. The fish is served in a thin layer of a tomato-based broth and is surrounded by stewed onions, red and green peppers, olives, and raisins. It's tasty.











Reading: Ooh, I'm reading a very good book. The Savage Detectives by Roberto Bolaño. It was translated into English only a couple years ago. It's a novel novel about a true-life avant-garde literature scene in Mexico City in the 1970s-1990s. It's loooong but fantastic (so far).

Wearing: This week, I wore my bikini and the powdery, sticky white sand of the Caribbean Sea all over my arms, legs, and feet. That's about it. Here, Matt models said sand look on his toesies:

This Week...

Eating: Break me off a piece of that Bueno bar! The delectable candy bars, made by the Kinder Company, are so delicious. Am I gushing?? They're just hazelnutty cream, wafery chocolate yum. I think I've had them in other countries. So if you go to a country other than the U.S. and see them, and um, you're craving chocolate, GET ONE.

Seeing: Lots of people with a lot of guts. Don't get me wrong, I love biking with a passion, but I would never have the courage to do it here. There are more bicyclists in this city than you'd imagine (considering the aggressive drivers). There are people with big (and I mean HUGE) baskets on the front of their bikes, selling various goods. There are people who commute to work (including our landlord) on their bikes. There are also those brave (sane?) souls that go out for a leisurely (?) stroll with a loved one (even some on tandem bikers--YIKES!). This one's got quite a few spokes, eh?















Hearing: I've been into Cuban music lately. There's no happier way to wake up from the sleepy doldrums than with a cup coffee and some Tito Puente. There is a small Cuban population in our neighborhood, and there's no doubt we'll soon be heading to a Cuban bar to listen to a live band. It's true that Tito Puente made a lot of Cuban music, but I was shocked to find out that he had never lived in Cuba; rather, he was Harlem born and raised. After that, I learned that he was not NOT EVEN CUBAN--he was Puerto Rican! Regardless, his music makes me happy. Here's a cool youtube clip of Tito and his orchestra from the 1980s:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KUimlUsSneM


Reading: This week, I finished the book Like Water for Chocolate; or Como Agua Para Chocolate by Laura Esquivel. The title might be familiar, because (a) you read the book and/or (b) you remember the movie from the early 90s. It was a very easy reading little ditty, but the storytelling was nice. This week, I'm starting a much more challenging book...a welcomed change of pace.


We're meeting Matt's parents for a week's trip to the Riviera Maya. Yes! I get to spend time with my great friend, Ocean! I'll be taking an internet vacation, too, because I can't really snorkle and type at the same time, you know?!