I'm sitting on the patio at the ICO (Instituto Cultural de Oaxaca, pronounced "eeko"), where the free wireless is slow, yet steady. I'm watching the salsa class which is taking place on the roof of the main building and wondering how they got so many dudes in that class – we only have three. I didn't really want to take la clase de baile (dance class) until the last week (workshop classes last 2 weeks each. in my five weeks I will have the opportunity to take 2 full courses and 1 week of a seperate course), but I'm so glad I ended up in there and I will probably take it again that last week to refresh my memory before heading home.
Anyhow, I arrived here Sunday around 4:30 PM (I'm still in Central time) and took a taxi to the house. Rene met me there and showed me to my room, which has a SPECTACULAR view of the mountains just north of the city. I turned in early that night (I had only slept one hour the night before) and woke up to a completely vegetarian breakfast of frutas y pan (bread and fruit) native to Oaxaca. There are 3 other students living with the Rodriguez family: Kevin (de Texas), Carol (de Nueva York, es vegetariana tambien), y John (de California). I am byfar the youngest person in my homestay and in my grammar class, but there is one little dude in my salsa class that looks about 15 or 16 (and he’s an awful dancer) and my intercambio partner (local Oaxacan conversation partner) is 14. Her name is Paula and she is a student en la escuela secondaria (high school) here in Oaxaca. She is also an avid volleyball player as well as a very patient conversation partner.
The weather here has been awesome. The first day I was out taking pictures of una iglesia (a church) and el parque de Juarez (Juarez park, named for Benito) and it started raining fucking buckets on me. It is the rainy season here in Oaxaca (July-October) , but rain usually comes in the evenings. It is warm, but there are always clouds and a breeze, though yesterday I walked to una papeleria (literally paper store, though they carry all sorts of school supplies) to buy un cuaderno y unas fichas (a notebook and index cards) and then went straight to salsa class and got really sweaty. I should also mention that our salsa class takes place on the side of the institute nearest the bus stop. There is a clay wall surrounding the institute, but in this particular section there is an iron gate, so anyone at the bus stop gets to laugh and point at all the gringos who can’t dance. Yesterday un payaso (a clown) stopped by to watch for a couple of minutes. My dance partner told me that he had also been there last week! That’s almost as weird as seeing Ronald McDonald riding a bike through West Chicago at 2 AM… which also happened to me this week. Seriously, ask my mom.
I’ll have to share more later, but my battery is about to die and it’s almost time for salsa class. Thank you to everyone who came to my going away fiesta – it was so much fun and your gifts were so freaking thoughtful. I can’t wait to see you all again in August! Hasta luego!
p.s. - pictures are on facebook - i'm working on the flickr thing for you non-facebook folks, but i've been really busy. i'll get it eventually.
4 comments:
I tryed typing in the url with www and it didn't give me anything, but then you said it wouldn't give anything on your facebook and I was all like, "That makes sense."
I had no idea you had to take a dance class. Going down there just to point and laugh at the gringos who can't dance would be worth the trip.
Thank you for translating your spanish words. Oh, and commenting on this is troublesome. Whatever, I'll deal with it.
Btw, don't get raped. :)
I almost didn't see Ronald McDonald. I was trying to figure out what our Jamaican taxi driver was 'put de unda de seat' when he saw the road block...his ganga or his gun.
Either way....stay away from that clown down there....Sounds a little too John Wayne Gacy...seriously.
And just like the fellow before me...(hmm..could it be... Daniel?)...thanks for the Spanish to English translation.
Miss you already!
Love...Mom
yomama figured me out. drats. my cover is blown.
Even though I don't see you on a regular basis, I miss you, too. I am jealous of your adventurous nature and super cool use of the word "fuck" in a blog situation. It is something I haven't quite warmed up to yet. I somehow deleted a post last night as I was trying to publish it, and I may have used the word on this side of the keyboard-but I just haven't worked it into the story. As appropriate as it might be in my situation (after a yard sale in the rain), my mom is not quite as hardy as yours.
I am so thrilled to hear you are having a good time and being immersed into something other-culturally awesome. Speaking of other-cultural--I might be able to teach you some cool words in English soon. Including words I have made up (see above) and those I learn abroad. Maybe you can come immerse yourself in Guinness with us at some point in the next year.
Yay for new adventures and kick-ass blogs about previously mentioned adventures!
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