Last night I went with my host brother to the gym that he attends and bought a membership. And by the way, it only put me back $20 a month and that includes a personal trainer. I wasn't planning on getting a personal trainer, but I did because apparently everyone here does because it is so cheap. From what I can figure out, this guy's job is to just tell you what exercise and how many sets, and then he walks away and works out while you do your sets. This guy obviously works out all day every day seeing as he was only 5'5'' and outweighed me by a good 100 pounds of muscle. But back to the point of this blog. I've been working out for a good part of my life, not saying that I'm in great shape or anything, but I know what to expect when I go into a gym. Or so I thought. Well my PT, Orlando was his name, worked me for 2 hours of weight training, upper body only, and then told me that he'd see me tomorrow for legs. Well I can't move my arms. My elbows and shoulders are stuck in that painful soreness that you get after you've had surgery. It really feels like my elbows have been operated on and I'm terrified to go work out my legs, because those always hurt anyways, and with this guy I'll be paralyzed. Either I'm just a wuss, he's great at his job, or a combination of both...no answer needed.

On a side note, I've watched Dumb and Dumber and The Count of Monte Cristo over the past two days. Sometimes a good movie in English is all you need to make your day.

I woke up this morning with the strangest of realizations. I am used to living here. For the past month I have opened my eyes each day and been in someone else's home, and gone to someone else's University. But today I woke up in MY bed and took the bus on MY bus route and went to MY school. I guess it is the adjustment we all make in new situations. That's just how the cookie crumbles i guess.

But moving on, my friends and I are making plans to spend a week in Mexico City in December during the week of the Virgen de Guadalupe. That'll be a very culturally rich experience, putting aside the fact that Mexico D.F. is one of the most dangerous cities in the world. (I probably shouldn't say things like that on a page that my parents, grandparents, and girlfriend all read) And on top of that we are in the process of figuring out the best way to get four Americans into Cuba. It turns out that it isn't as hard for Americans to get to Cuba as you would think. As long as you go through other countries (ie. Mexico) it is very possible. The only scare is that if you get caught getting off of a plane from Cuba by American officials you could get slapped with a $5000 fine, but the guides all say that this is a formality and doesn't really have to be paid..mainly because it isn't constitutional to tell an American citizen that they are unable to travel where they please. All of that to say that these upcoming months will be full of...well..let's just call them experiences. Until later.

As promised…here is what went down. I woke up bright and early at 6 am yesterday morning in order to be in the center of town by 8 because me and some friends were traveling to the nearby by town of Cuzamá. The guide book told us to catch a bus at a specific intersection downtown, but when we arrived there were no buses to be found. After asking around and getting 5 completely different sets of directions, we found out that we were about 10 blocks away from where our bus was going to be. So we walked…We finally found our bus and began our one hour bus ride to Cuzamá. None of us had any idea what to expect when we got there. When we pulled up to this small Mayan village, there were taxis waiting by the side of the road to take us to the Hacienda that we were going to visit. By taxi I mean there were children between 9 and 12 with bicycles that had a seat for two on the front…this is what they called taxis. Feeling very uncomfortable with having the child labor that should, without a doubt, be in school at that very moment bike us around in the 100 degree heat we asked the bus driver if he could take us 2 miles up the road to the Hacienda. He said he would, thankfully. We stepped out of the bus, paid our fare, and hopped into what they called a “horse drawn carriage” which was a little cart that rode on a miniature railroad and pulled by a horse. Really neat actually.

The house and business part of this Hacienda no longer exists but the main tourist attraction, as it turns out, are these three cenotes. Three of the most beautiful cenotes in the world. Now if you remember back to my post where I discussed what cenotes were, they are natural pools of water that the Mayans used for many purposes…everything from bathing to spiritual purposes, ie) sacrificing. These three cenotes were covered cenotes, meaning that they were inside of caves. We had to climb down into the cenotes and the water was (depending on which cenote) about 40-80 feet under the surface of the ground. I can’t even explain the beauty of the water in words, nor do the pictures I took with my camera do any justice, so here are a couple of pictures of these cenotes that I visited that someone else took as well as a couple that I took. The water is turquoise blue, and clearer than the water in a swimming pool. There were places in the cenote that were almost 100 feet deep and you could see the rocks at the bottom. UNBELIEVABLE!





That part of the trip was beautiful, fun, and unforgettable…but it doesn’t end there. Back to the bus ride that brought us 2 miles off of the normal route to a secluded Hacienda. The bus driver told us that he would meet us where he dropped us off at a certain time. So like anyone who wants to eventually get back from the middle of nowhere, we were where we were supposed to be when we were supposed to be there. And we waited. And we waited. And waited. It got to the point to where the “taxi” drivers/riders were telling us that he wasn’t coming. But we held out. Mainly because, like I said, we weren’t big fans of child labor. It became very clear that the bus wasn’t coming so we took matters into our own hands. A man and his family were getting into their truck and so I walked up to him and asked if he could drop us four off in the middle of town 2 miles down the road. He immediately said no, and rolled his window back up and started to drive off. Then he reversed back and said that they could, so we hopped into the back of his truck and were officially hitch-hiking in Mexico. When we got into town the man told us that he and his family were going to stay at a Hacienda close to Merida and that we could ride along if we wanted. So we naturally accepted his hour of free transportation, but we were unaware of how terrible with directions this man was. He took more wrong turns than I thought were possible, but we finally started going the right direction towards Merida. And then he started to turn the wrong way again, so we all started yelling from the back of the truck to turn right and he did. It struck me as odd that he would listen to directions from four hitch hikers in the back of his truck but we got to the right place. As we pulled up to the Hacienda 10 kilometers outside of Merida, a window rolled down and the man’s wife said, “Your ride ends here.” Weird way to put it, but we couldn’t complain so we hopped out of the truck, asked some locals how to get into the city, and took a bus on into Merida.

I know some of you are curious to know how the whole sick thing went. Sorry I didn't post sooner, but I'm fine. It was more or less just a 24 hour flu virus that came and went. I've just been so busy that I haven't had the time to post. The same holds true today...BUT, please tune in tomorrow evening because I will be writing about what happened today. Today was probably the most crazy, adventuresome, awesome day in Mexico EVER. I hate to leave you with that, but I want to make sure that I have the time to sit down and record every detail, and this evening does not offer me that opportunity. I'm sorry for the short absence, but I can only hope that you will all understand today's events in the near future...Let's just say it may involve hitch-hiking and caves...

Well friends, I'm sick again. Not like last time, today it's the flu. Body aches, slight fever, and I'm exhausted. Nothing more, but nothing less either. And my throat is killing me. Is that normal with the flu?

Besides that I have tons of homework due today that I didn't do last night because I needed to get sleep, including a class presentation. We'll see how that goes.

I'm off to class...

Saturday night, which I just haven't had time to post about, was Mexican Independence Day. I went, along with 70,000 other people, to the center of town to watch "el Grito" Spanish for "the shout". This is a tradition in which the Governor comes out on the balcony of the Governor's mansion and shouts "Viva Mexico" five times in honor of their Independence. Well, I'm not going to lie, it was quite the experience seeing all of these people united by this one event. It caused me to think about our Independence Day celebrations in the US...where we usually have small gatherings of family and friends, maybe some fireworks, and then we all go home. It's a fun day. Really it is. But I realized this weekend that Americans celebrate the present America on July 4th. We celebrate where our country is now, what is going on at this moment. I love our country and our traditions, but I feel that because we tend to celebrate the present, someone who may not agree with current policies or leadership feels less of a desire to celebrate the current position of our country. I would never call anyone unpatriotic, but you know where I'm coming from. And of course, this is America and that is their freedom. But Mexicans celebrate the past. For one day, ok for a full month, they put aside all of their nations problems (which is a lot to do) and remember the fight against Spain. They remember the first time a leader of their country stood up in front of a crowd and shouted "Viva Mexico." They remember what it was like to not be Independent, and the pride that now exists. It brought chills to my spine listening as 70,000 people crammed into a square block, all shouted "VIVA!" Kinda cool. I guess I would just really love to see someone dressed like Paul Revere riding down the street in every major American city shouting "The British are Coming, The British are Coming!!!" I think that could do a little something to unite us.

What an amazing weekend! I went to Campeche with no idea what to really expect, and I discovered one of the coolest cities in all of Mexico. The city was, at one point in time, completely walled it and much of the wall is still up today. Campeche was constantly under attack by pirates in the 18th and 19th centuries, and so you will find huge forts enforced by dozens of canons throughout the city. But apart from being the obvious historical goldmine that it is, it is such a comfortable city. The streets are lined with 200 year old, two-story buildings all the way down; each building being a different color than the buildings to either side. It honestly felt like I was walking through a town in 1820 Mexico. Way cool. So after touring some forts and walking on parts of the city wall we decided to check out this whole Festival of the Black Christ thing. So we starting walking the direction the nice Mexican lady pointed us in and began to see this in the distance.

It was no different from your normal American fair...other than the obvious lack of certain safety regulations. Hysterical. Oh, and the part from last week about the Christ being burnt during a period of persecution...absolutely not true. The story is even cooler. Apparently, El Cristo Negro is just made out of ebony wood and is naturally black. Not the cool part of the story, however. The story goes like this: It was made in Rome in 1554, shipped to Venezuela, and then purchased by the people in Campeche. In order to get the black colored crucifix to Campeche they need two things: 2 weeks and a Catholic captain to get it there. On the first day of the 2 week trip from Venezuela a huge storm hit the sailors and they were seemingly unable to keep the boat on route. The captain and the crew went beneath the deck for safety while one sailor volunteered to steer the boat through the storm. No one on the crew knew who this sailor was. Meanwhile, back in Campeche, someone had informed the city that the black Christ would be arriving on the first day of the voyage so the entire town was waiting on the beach with torches. And sure enough, the boat makes it through the storm to safety, to arrive in Campeche on the first day of the trip. However, when the captain tries to find the mystery sailor who had maneuvered the boat through the storm, he is no where to be found. And when they open the box containing the crucifix, the box is completely dry but the black Christ inside is dripping wet. Who was this mystery sailor??? Was it Christ himself? Anyway, and so to this day the black Christ hangs in the Church of San Roman and has never been painted and hasn't rotted even slightly in 400 something years. Kinda cool. Here is a picture, I couldn't get close to the crucifix because they were having their daily mass.

Here are some other random pictures from the weekend. The first one is actually here in Merida, it is the oldest cathedral on the continent. Enjoy.

Ok, a little more info on the Festival of the Black Christ. I'll obviously know a lot more when I get back, but apparently there was an era in Mexico in which the governing body was opposed to anything religious(surprising with how Catholic Mexico has always been). But during this period the government would destroy religious buildings of any kind. Well the church is Campeche was burned and all that remained was a statue of Christ that had turned black from the fire. The fact that it remained intact calls for celebration every year (still unsure how long it has been) since.

I thought it would be cool to have a word of the day that we could all celebrate together in three languages since my class of the Mayan language is so awesome. The words will obviously be very simplistic seeing as I will probably never be able to use complicated words in Mayan. So today's is:

Maya: Ki'ichpam
Español: guapa
English: pretty (in the attractive sense)

Used in a sentence....Ashley is very Ki'ichpam.

Hasta

I went to a restaurant called "La Musa" tonight to watch the Mexico vs Brazil soccer game. Talk about intense. They sure do love their soccer in Mexico and, even though we lost, it was one of the most fun things that I've ever done.

This weekend, Saturday to be exact, is Mexican Independence day. I'm definitely going to buy a huge Mexican flag. And also this weekend is the Festival of the Black Christ in a little town called Campeche on the west coast of the Yucatan. Now, just to make things clear, there is nothing racist OR sac religious about this Festival. Apparently there is just this statue of Christ that is in black iron and they celebrate it every year. So a few of us from the program are going on Friday to experience whatever the Festival of the Black Christ might entail. Both of these events have tons of tradition built into them, especially the whole independence thing as you can imagine. Check back for pictures and stories. I can't wait to share them with you.

Viva México

Definitely not adjusted yet to whole waking up at 6 after studying till 1 thing...

Still making small observations:

-The same loud German shepherd jumps out and scares the daylights out of me every morning as I walk by his fence on my way to the bus stop...you'd think I'd see it coming after 2 weeks.

-You know those girls that talk really fast and use words like "like" and "whatever" too much, and despite the fact that they are trying to communicate something you can never tell just exactly what that is...well they have those here in Mexico too and it's even harder to understand the point they're trying to make in a second language.

-I brought my American study habits with me to Mexico and they're just not going to cut it. I have to get used to reading all of the material, something no one does in the US. A normal Mexican class involves about an hour of discussion over the reading from the night before, and when you don't read the material, well let's just say I've got to be a little more intentional with my time.

-I saw the world's tallest tower of tequila when I walked into Wal-Mart today. Yes they have Wal-Mart here. But literally from the floor to almost the ceiling was this huge tower of tequila. I don't think they can get away with that in the states. And just how in the world would someone be able to purchase a bottle without that bad boy toppling over and killing them?

-Mole is a type of sauce that is fairly common in Mexico and even in parts of Texas. But here in the Yucatan they eat Mole soup which is made out of tomatoes, chilies, and chocolate. Chocolate soup? You're darn right.

Well that's all I've got for today because I've got to get back to that whole reading thing we just talked about.

Mexicans really know how to throw parties. Last night was my host brother's birthday so he had a little shindig. I helped him get the house ready to have company as we were expecting about 60 people (all of which showed up). But then I was really impressed when the rock band showed up. How many people in the states have live music at their parties? Not to mention they played full blast in the back yard from 12-2:30. I guess there is no law against disturbing the peace in Mexico. And for food...he definitely had a taco stand come and set up in our front yard. All the free tacos you could want. I personally went easy on the tacos as to be careful not to repeat the hospital episode, but it was awesome never the less. So I hung out at the party till about 3 and met new people, discussed Bush and Iraq, offered my opinions on the Felipe Calderon situation, learned new slang, and when I was exhausted (and no one was leaving yet) I decided to go ahead and go to my room and sleep. The party rocked on until about 6:30 in the morning, music full blast. And of course I woke up at 9:30 this morning completely unable to fall back asleep so I watched 6 episodes of scrubs and made myself some eggs and coffee as my host parents went to the beach house for the night. I say all of this really just to stress the same thing that I've stressed before...we don't know how to celebrate in America. Everything here is cause for celebration with friends and family. If there is one slice of Mexico that I want to bring back home with me, other than the salsa (not the dance), it is this.

These are 3 terrible pictures of last night, but in them you'll see the back yard full of people, the band, and the taco stand...all at my house.

So maybe culture shock has set in slightly. I knew that it would be only a minor setback when it did, but here is what is going through my mind this morning...not to be a downer or anything:

I miss my...

-air conditioned house
-bed
-couch
-T.V.
-favorite foods
-Dr Pepper
-family
-dates with my beautiful girlfriend
-friends
-church
-car and all other forms of private transportation
-Frisbee golf games with Nurge
-university's football games
-routine of playing my saxophone at the previously mentioned...

It's a reality...we are all very comfortable within our own culture. It's a reality that we often don't realize until we are out of our home culture for a couple of weeks. And I never thought I'd say it but: Middle-class Suburban America, today I miss you.

V.I.P...Me?

Last night I went to a disco...which is what they call clubs here in Mexico(unfortunatley there is no disco music, I was disappointed). I'm definitely not the club type, by any means, but we were invited by some Mexican students and I knew it would be a good way to make local friends. And believe me, it was. We pulled up to the club and there was a huge line of about 50 people waiting outside. We kinda stepped way to the back and away to show that we weren't yet waiting in line as some of our friends hadn't arrived yet. As soon as we were all ready we stepped up to the line and immediately the huge bouncer at the front points to us and says, "you", he lifts the rope gate, points in, and we walk in front of all of these people and into the club. I felt awful! But apparently having Americans in your club draws more business so they let us in. We were also able to get a table immediately..something that is very coveted at this particular establishment. We were getting stared at all night. People kept wanting to buy us drinks, which we politely declined because accepting a drink from a stranger....well, you are all aware. It was a pretty good time seeing as I don't dance, but oddly enough there really was not very much dancing going on for this to be a disco. It was more like a concert with a really good Mexican cover band that was playing Nirvana, Audio Slave, Metallica, and a few others. It was a good one time experience for me, but I would just prefer to sit back in a cafe and hang out with friends. I'm lame, I know.

I'm finally feeling almost normal after this weekend. Thankfully my stomach should now be accustomed to almost any type of food that I should encounter here in Yucatán. On to new news, there has been one minor change in my class schedule for the semester. In stead of taking the Culture and Mindset of Latin America ( as I found it to be too abstract of a class to take in a second language) I will be taking Mayan Language. I’ll be learning my 3rd language through my 2nd language. I can’t even begin to describe how cool this will be. You see, here in the Yucatán there is a lot of Mayan spoken and I’ll have the opportunity to use some of the phrases I learn when I travel to some of the small pueblos around the peninsula. There is a common saying around here that in essence claims that you cannot know a culture until you know the language. Language is one of the biggest ways that a culture is lived out. So many insights into Mexican culture can only be understood in Spanish, and I imagine that it is even more so with the Mayan culture. We’ll see how it turns out.

Hasta luego

Here are a few photos from my trip to Dzibilchaltùn on Saturday. The first picture is of the Templo de las Siete Muñecas. This temple is famous for its brilliant display of the equinox. The Mayas calculated exactly where to but the opening of the temple so that at the exact moment of the equinox the sun would shine perfectly through the door opening and onto the altar. Millions of people gather each year to observe this phenomena. The other pictures are of just random ruins at Dzibilchaltùn. The last picture is of the cenote, which is where the Mayas would bathe, swim, maybe even get water to drink. And yes, I did swim in the same cenote as the Mayas swam in thousands of years ago. It was awesome!

I have some pretty sweet pictures of my trip yesterday but I'm just not really in the mood to put them up right now. You see, I got the opportunity to learn a lot of new medical vocabulary in Spanish last night as I spent the entire night in the hospital. I apparently ate something bad while I was at the beach yesterday afternoon and at about 6 yesterday evening I threw up. I wasn't too panicked because everyone throws up a little bit their first week in a foreign country with drastically different eating habits. It's a common illness known in Mexico as turista, because it's the tourists who have the weak stomachs. Well I started to get a little worried after my 11th time throwing up because there was nothing left anywhere in my body expect for fluids that aren't supposed to leave their location. So, my host family took me to the hospital. As is turns out, the average person who eats contaminated food has about 10,000 bad bacteria in their system that are making them sick. After my blood work came back the doctor told me that I had about 30,000 bad bacteria in my system. and on top of that, I was extremely dehydrated from the...well, you know...."water loss". Because of this, in the past 12 hours I have exhausted 4 IVs, many injections (in both arm and butt...the latter of which I'm still bitter about), and many trips to the bathroom. I write all of this with the knowledge that some of you will be so disgusted as to never want to read my blog again...I understand. But I have to hold true to you all, the readers, in writing about both the good and the bad. So for now, hasta luego my friends, and don't drink the water in Mexico...

A few random picture of my trip so far...
The first a picture of the dining room. Taken from the living room.
The second is in my back yard. The stone cross has the family name on it.
The third is a picture of the new library...very cool
The next is a picture of the group waiting at the bus stop on campus with the Anthropology building in the background.
And the last is my bedroom, complete with blue hammock in the foreground.




There will be more pictures after this weekend of my trip to some Mayan ruins and the beach at Progresso.

Supposedly there is this thing called culture shock. Less of a shock and more of a clash really…A clash of your home culture and the one in which you are visiting. Supposedly it exists. Supposedly. And if this is true, then, in the next day or so I will start a downward spiral of frustration and annoyance of everything having to do with the Yucatecan culture…supposedly. To be honest, there are many things that I miss about home. I miss my family, friends, church, school, and my girl friend, whom I miss oh so much. But to go through a period of disliking the Yucatecan culture seems unlikely at this phase. Maybe it’s because I’m in the honeymoon phase of living here, or maybe I just fit so well here in Mexico, I don’t know. But as of now, things are going well. It is really fun to see how quickly my ability in the language improves daily. After studying Spanish for 6 years, such drastic improvement in just a couple of days is very encouraging. I’m to the point verbally where I can sit down and have an intellectual discussion over just about anything there is to discuss. For example tonight during la sobremesa, the period of time after dinner where the family sits and talks, my host parents and I discussed the differences and similarities between the Mexican and American public education systems.

I’ve decided which classes I will try to take. They are as follows (hopefully):

-Racism and Discrimination (Extra interesting because both are a big part of this

Culture)

-Cultural History of the Mayan Area

-Latin American Culture and Mindset, a Literature class

-History of Mexican/United States Relations

All of these classes will be in Spanish with native students. I’ll also be in an advanced Spanish class with a few other Americans that are in the same boat as I am.

One last thing about Mérida. It is probably the safest large city I’ve ever been in. The population is about 1 million, but they take pride in the security of the city as well as the way they treat foreigners. I feel completely safe, as well as the embassy here tells me I’m safe, walking through the streets alone at midnight. Something that you wouldn’t expect in Mexico.

Hasta

The major differences between Mexico and the US are easy to pick out and more obvious to readers back home. Because of this, it is the small differences that bring a smile to my face many times throughout my day…

Small Cultural difference (cont..)

-Brakes are for emergency use only in Mexico…which makes many emergency situations as stopped cars approach quickly in front of our speeding bus.

-People walk very slowly here and it doesn’t help that I’m 6’2’’ with a stride longer than most body lengths.

-Things that appear to be the same in Mexico as in America tend not to be. For example my sandwich for lunch today appeared completely normal…until I bit into the jalapeños and ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise mixture.

-Toilets in public places sometimes don’t have toilet seats.

-There is a different understanding of time. Meeting someone for lunch at 12 means that they will stop their previous activity at 12 and start the voyage to meet you for lunch. They aren’t late because, technically, the activity of meeting you for lunch did in fact begin at 12.

-In Mexico if you don’t talk about a problem, it doesn’t exist. For example, you will rarely here open discussion about poverty, racism, homosexuality, or any other “hot topic” because they don’t exist…

And the best part about all of this is that I love it so much. My bus ride to school in the mornings is awesome. Jalapeños add an amazing flavor to ham sandwiches. I’m a guy, so who needs toilet seats? The relaxed pace of everyone being about 10-15 minutes late is good practice for my patience and flexibility.

One last thing, it is interesting how quickly I forget English. Not really forget, but I have to think much harder about which word to use and how to spell it in English than I did 4 days ago. And if your name is Ashley, don’t worry because I’ll relearn the language just for you on my flight back home.

Hasta