Today is one of the last days I'll spend at Shayla's house. I'll be leaving a little sooner than previously planned. That's okay with me. I've learned a lot here about cooking, I've gotten some good yoga in, and I've gotten to meet some pretty cool people. All while saving a lot of money and having a pretty good time.
I thought I would've posted more blog entries while I was here but a decent amount of it was routine and so I haven't had a lot of "adventures" so to speak. But I figured I'd talk about a few of the things that I've done here for all six of my readers. Actually, there are a lot of you. THANKS!
I usually wake up around 8AM. Sometimes I sleep through my watch alarm because I sleep with earplugs in. I've learned that I either wear them or I get woken up sixty times a night by the sound of the street dogs arguing below. And when they're not barking, it's usually because someone is busy lighting off fireworks at six in the morning. This usually happens whenever there's a holiday. And there are a lot of holidays. And when that doesn't do it I usually hear Shayla scoot her walker across the floor in a lout BRRRRRAP! So... 8AM. Here we go.
I wake up, drag myself to the end of the bed and stumble out into bathroom to see what the pillow did to my face for eight hours. As soon as I crack my bedroom door the sharp smell of electricity zaps my nose. The smell is ozone gas (O3) and it's produced by a machine that converts the tank of oxygen gas downstairs into this substance that supposedly kills infectious invaders. Shayla and Maeve have a morning routine where they drink water purified by it's bubbles and blast giant plastic syringe-fulls of it into all available openings. Even Choco gets a treatment. The poor dog sits impatiently while humans spray hot air into his ears. I did some of these things for a while. But I'm not that convinced of the practicality of it and it's pretty awful stuff. Tastes terrible. So actually the title is a witty lie. I actually don't prefer the odor, to be honest. But it's kinda cool.
Next up is Choco. I take him for a lap around the block where, until I insisted on the leash, he would dart in front of taxis for ten minutes while I - the short and sandal wearing American chased him around. The purpose of this morning hike is to get him to leave a little something behind. But he rarely does. There's a lot I want to say about Choco. But don't worry, I'll have a whole chapter on him. Standby.
By this time I'm usually pretty hungry and it's time to boost the glucose levels. I think a giant breakfast smoothie is in order? Yes. Two bananas, one frozen, almond or cashew milk, fresh squeezed orange juice, a possible frozen berry cameo, chia seeds, cacao/honey/or some other healthy thing and BWIIIIIIIING! Turn that five hundred dollar blender on. Now that's a smoothie.
Any other day but Saturday I'm usually free to work on my Spanish skills, travel plans or play around on the computer as I wish. When I'm lucky, another human in the house gets motivated to do some yoga and I join in like a good little grasshopper. If it's sunny someone might get naked and soak up some rays in the courtyard. Hippies.
Lunch is also a smoothie. At first I really liked this. It was easy to make, good to eat and predictable. Now, towards the end, I kind of miss chewing things so much. But one thing's for sure - you don't have to poop as much. And that means that's probably one less time that you have to wipe your butt and throw your TP in a trashcan. Because they don't flush it around here. Not enough water pressure. That TP just sits in the trashcan staring at you as you try not to think about how disgusting that is. So anyway, I was talking about food. Mmmmm.
Shayla is a certified "foodie" and a good amount of time takes place in her kitchen. She's got great ingredients and spices from all over and prizes them like they were the last ones made. Friends and family visiting from the US generally sacrifice their checked baggage to smuggle all sorts of rarities found in the mythical aisles of the Whole Foods Temple. AHHHH! So if I don't have any other project to attend to - Or if I'm not aimlessly staring at the ants on the compost pile (a strange habit I've found myself doing) - I help out in the kitchen by prepping food. I cut things or wash things or move them from one container to another. It's not always exciting, but I am learning some healthy and delicious tricks.
While Saturday is the big Organic Farmer's Market day, trips to the regular market come up about once every two days and I get the opportunity to practice my Spanish searching for the right vegetables or chicken feet for Choco. I like the market. It's bustling. It's a hub. And it's totally old school. People just sit outside with all of their stuff, maybe a scale and they yell out their wares in a flat but sing songy worn out voice, "Papas y friJOles! Dos por VIENteeeeeee..." Over and over again. They don't pay attention to you until you have their stuff on their scale. And the produce is dirt cheap. Everything is dirt cheap here. I can't get over it.
Afternoon time is dinner prep time. More cutting and washing and dancing around Shayla's wheelie wheels of little piggy death. You gotta watch it. Dinner starts with a salad at six and the rest of the meal follows. Sometimes it's a stir fry and it's kind of cool to cook in between the actual eating. I kind of like that.
For dessert I generally fire up the vape and pop in some stand up comedy or a movie I rented from PirateBay.se. Smile if you know it. After Shayla hits the sack (usually pretty early), I beat the shit out of some green pigs on Angry Birds or Maeve and I take a walk to the Zocalo. Last night she forced me to dance so I embarrassed the hell out of her by acting like a complete goofball in the middle of the Halloween parade. I don't think she'll be doing that again. Man, I can swing those hips. That's right, ladies, that's how we do it in America.
If I can't sleep, I jump back on the computer and do my best to wring out my experiences or chattering brain cells onto the keyboard. Some of it makes it onto this blog. The rest remains for one more day; swaying and sloshing about until the next opportunity to make a break for it.
The Ten Dollar Day
10-21-2012
20:29
Coatepec, Mexico
We threw a party for Shayla's birthday on Friday, but today was her real birthday - so Maeve and I vacated the house to let her Skype with all her family and friends throughout the world. We decided to go to Xico (HEE-ko), a nearby town and check out the waterfalls there. It definitely turned out to be a good day.
The first thing we needed to do was get some moneda (coin money). Bus drivers are real grumbly when you hand them a two hundred peso bill for a ten peso ride. All right, Grumpy Grumperson, I'll get some change. And dude, what the fuck is the deal with getting change in Mexico?! You go to pay for something and people just straight up have no change sometimes. Twice now, I've gone to pay for something and the vendor didn't have change so they just gave it to me for free. "Pay me later," they say. Dang man. I always did. But what is the dealio! I think the problem is that the government flat out just didn't cut enough metal money. People hoard it like it's going out of style.
(Bus fare roundtrip: $20)
So here's what I had to buy to make some change:
(Churros: $10)
It was some street food from the Zocalo (town square). Deep fried churros with chocolate sauce, some white shit and sprinkles. MMMMMM mmmmmm. Delicious. The first real junk food I've had in about ten days. It was good.
The next order of business was to find Maeve a baño. She was suffering a little discomfort due to her and Shayla's morning watermelon eating contest. I'd say the real winner there was me. Cause I didn't almost pee my pants on a city bus.
We tried the church, but that was busy with its usual Sunday reality protest rally so we figured she could just tough it out on the bus. Next thing we know we get approached by a Mexican guy about my age who stopped us somewhat awkwardly,
"Ey, uh, amigos? Do you speak English?"
"Yeah man. What's up?"
His name was Miguel and his English was pretty good. He'd worked in the US for some time and was waiting on his visa to clear so he could hop back over the fence (legally) and come back with some scrilla. At first I thought he was giving us this big schpeil to ask for money but it turned out that what he really wanted was to practice his English with us. PERFECT! We'll work on our Spanish with you, too! By the way, do you know where the nearest pisser is?
Miguel showed us to his friend's autobody shop just around the corner and Maeve seemed much happier. He left us his number and if I can find it from my bottomless bag of tricks we should be meeting up to swap operating systems.
Maeve and I managed to find the bus stop. It was a little tough since there is neither a terminal nor any sort of sign denoting the usual stopping location for a bus. We used our super powers of asking in broken Spanish and followed the groups of people who seemed to be patiently waiting for something to carry them away.
The ride to Xico was pretty short. It couldn't have been more than twenty minutes and the distinction between the two towns wasn't really ever made. If I had to guess, I would say the border was somewhere straddling several of the banana plantations that surrounded both villages.
Once at Xico, we promptly got ourselves lost on a dead end street trying to find a pretty looking church that didn't end up being that spectacular. We wandered back to the town center and ate a little bit of the packed lunch that we'd brought. Somewhat unmotivated and lackadaisical from all the work we'd been doing at the house we wondered if we should ask someone for directions to the cascadas (waterfalls). Turns out we picked the right guy.
Two white peeps in the middle of Smalltown, Mexico will always attract attention. But one guy wasn't staring at us at all. I figured it was probably because he'd done a fair amount of traveling himself and wasn't really that surprised to see some gringos in his town. He had long dreads and was sitting on a bench tying friendship bracelets. I went up to him and asked him if he knew the fastest way to the waterfalls.
"Las cascadas?"
"Si."
"Sígueme! Estan cerca de me casa!" (Follow me! It's right next to my house!"
And so we followed.
Sweet! Personal hippie tour guide for the day. I bought one of his bracelets to seal the deal and we were off!
(Bracelet: $50)
I was right, Victor had done some traveling. He spoke only a few words of English so despite my broken attempts to communicate with him he responded quickly and verbosely in his native tongue. It was good to get back into listening to and speaking real Spanish again, however, I definitely didn't understand everything that he was saying.
Victor took us through a couple of neighborhoods, up a gravel road where the concrete houses stopped, over a bridge and down to his jungle bungalow. Literally just a couple of wooden shacks pinned up above the riverbed. It was AWESOME. I bought a couple jars of pulque (a fermented, milky drink) and we visited on the porch. It tastes kind of like a mix between keifer and kambucha. I'm not sure if I liked it. It made me thirstier the more I drank it.
(Pulque: $30)
We spent the next couple of hours soaking in sweet sunlight and listening to the river roar around us. Myself, alone with the hot boulders, Maeve and Victor in the throws of a traveler's romance. Nowhere to be. No one to please. Doing nothing never felt so good.
Before we left the bungalow entirely, Victor showed us his shack. Yep. A shack. Inside he had just enough room for a small mattress, the jewelry he made and sold, an alter for Hari Krishna or whatever and seven hippie bunny rabbits that had dreads just like him. He loved those things and made sure to get them the nicest green pickings from the riverbank. They showed their gratitude by dutifully munching it all down.
Victor made it clear that he would really like us to buy some of his jewelry. As his only source of income I felt somewhat obligated to do so. But then again, I'd also bought his slightly overpriced bracelet as well. So I had to say no. I will say, however, that the man is very good at what he does. His wire jewelry, in particular, was extremely intricate and incredibly well thought out. I wish I could have. But I have no need for it. Thanks anyway man!
Somehow I managed to screw up the picture formatting and I'm too lazy to go back and fix it so below are the photos from the day. Have fun figuring out what they are!
20:29
Coatepec, Mexico
We threw a party for Shayla's birthday on Friday, but today was her real birthday - so Maeve and I vacated the house to let her Skype with all her family and friends throughout the world. We decided to go to Xico (HEE-ko), a nearby town and check out the waterfalls there. It definitely turned out to be a good day.
The first thing we needed to do was get some moneda (coin money). Bus drivers are real grumbly when you hand them a two hundred peso bill for a ten peso ride. All right, Grumpy Grumperson, I'll get some change. And dude, what the fuck is the deal with getting change in Mexico?! You go to pay for something and people just straight up have no change sometimes. Twice now, I've gone to pay for something and the vendor didn't have change so they just gave it to me for free. "Pay me later," they say. Dang man. I always did. But what is the dealio! I think the problem is that the government flat out just didn't cut enough metal money. People hoard it like it's going out of style.
(Bus fare roundtrip: $20)
So here's what I had to buy to make some change:
(Churros: $10)
The next order of business was to find Maeve a baño. She was suffering a little discomfort due to her and Shayla's morning watermelon eating contest. I'd say the real winner there was me. Cause I didn't almost pee my pants on a city bus.
We tried the church, but that was busy with its usual Sunday reality protest rally so we figured she could just tough it out on the bus. Next thing we know we get approached by a Mexican guy about my age who stopped us somewhat awkwardly,
"Ey, uh, amigos? Do you speak English?"
"Yeah man. What's up?"
His name was Miguel and his English was pretty good. He'd worked in the US for some time and was waiting on his visa to clear so he could hop back over the fence (legally) and come back with some scrilla. At first I thought he was giving us this big schpeil to ask for money but it turned out that what he really wanted was to practice his English with us. PERFECT! We'll work on our Spanish with you, too! By the way, do you know where the nearest pisser is?
Miguel showed us to his friend's autobody shop just around the corner and Maeve seemed much happier. He left us his number and if I can find it from my bottomless bag of tricks we should be meeting up to swap operating systems.
Maeve and I managed to find the bus stop. It was a little tough since there is neither a terminal nor any sort of sign denoting the usual stopping location for a bus. We used our super powers of asking in broken Spanish and followed the groups of people who seemed to be patiently waiting for something to carry them away.
The ride to Xico was pretty short. It couldn't have been more than twenty minutes and the distinction between the two towns wasn't really ever made. If I had to guess, I would say the border was somewhere straddling several of the banana plantations that surrounded both villages.
Once at Xico, we promptly got ourselves lost on a dead end street trying to find a pretty looking church that didn't end up being that spectacular. We wandered back to the town center and ate a little bit of the packed lunch that we'd brought. Somewhat unmotivated and lackadaisical from all the work we'd been doing at the house we wondered if we should ask someone for directions to the cascadas (waterfalls). Turns out we picked the right guy.
Two white peeps in the middle of Smalltown, Mexico will always attract attention. But one guy wasn't staring at us at all. I figured it was probably because he'd done a fair amount of traveling himself and wasn't really that surprised to see some gringos in his town. He had long dreads and was sitting on a bench tying friendship bracelets. I went up to him and asked him if he knew the fastest way to the waterfalls.
"Las cascadas?"
"Si."
"Sígueme! Estan cerca de me casa!" (Follow me! It's right next to my house!"
And so we followed.
Sweet! Personal hippie tour guide for the day. I bought one of his bracelets to seal the deal and we were off!
(Bracelet: $50)
I was right, Victor had done some traveling. He spoke only a few words of English so despite my broken attempts to communicate with him he responded quickly and verbosely in his native tongue. It was good to get back into listening to and speaking real Spanish again, however, I definitely didn't understand everything that he was saying.
Victor took us through a couple of neighborhoods, up a gravel road where the concrete houses stopped, over a bridge and down to his jungle bungalow. Literally just a couple of wooden shacks pinned up above the riverbed. It was AWESOME. I bought a couple jars of pulque (a fermented, milky drink) and we visited on the porch. It tastes kind of like a mix between keifer and kambucha. I'm not sure if I liked it. It made me thirstier the more I drank it.
(Pulque: $30)
We spent the next couple of hours soaking in sweet sunlight and listening to the river roar around us. Myself, alone with the hot boulders, Maeve and Victor in the throws of a traveler's romance. Nowhere to be. No one to please. Doing nothing never felt so good.
Before we left the bungalow entirely, Victor showed us his shack. Yep. A shack. Inside he had just enough room for a small mattress, the jewelry he made and sold, an alter for Hari Krishna or whatever and seven hippie bunny rabbits that had dreads just like him. He loved those things and made sure to get them the nicest green pickings from the riverbank. They showed their gratitude by dutifully munching it all down.
Victor made it clear that he would really like us to buy some of his jewelry. As his only source of income I felt somewhat obligated to do so. But then again, I'd also bought his slightly overpriced bracelet as well. So I had to say no. I will say, however, that the man is very good at what he does. His wire jewelry, in particular, was extremely intricate and incredibly well thought out. I wish I could have. But I have no need for it. Thanks anyway man!
On the bus we went and back to Coatepec. Back to the house. But NOT without some chocolate first. We stopped by a local chocolate shop and split a few truffles between the two of us. Oh. My. God. So good and so cheap.
(Total split cost: $20)
It really was a great day. The one that you can't plan and the kind of adventure that leaves you feeling a little terrified about what might happen - yet, it always ends up amazing. There really was nothing to worry about.
So. All in all, I spent $130 MXN which just so happens to be almost exactly $10 US. A whole day of fun for ten bucks. Not bad. Not bad.
(Total split cost: $20)
It really was a great day. The one that you can't plan and the kind of adventure that leaves you feeling a little terrified about what might happen - yet, it always ends up amazing. There really was nothing to worry about.
So. All in all, I spent $130 MXN which just so happens to be almost exactly $10 US. A whole day of fun for ten bucks. Not bad. Not bad.
Spoiled Rotten
10-18-2012
After all that fun stuff I still had two bamboo pieces left; one fat one and one skinny one. Shayla wanted a free-standing staff to dance for her birthday party tomorrow. So I fitted the skinny one inside the fatter one for extra strength and dropped it down into an old water jug filled with sand from the empty lot across the street.
Coatepec, Mexico
18:10
We produce a lot of organic waste in this kitchen. We shed orange peels, veggie skins and all sorts of "waste" that could be beautiful compost. This was always the intention, but until I got here everything was dumped into a big pile outside the back yard. It was sitting in a ditch, definitely rotting, but definitely super stinky. My goal was to create an aerated compost pile using minimal materials and a simple design. I took photos of each stage so you can see the development of the plot. After a few days, I haven't seen much change in the pile's makeup nor heat production. But I think it just needs a little more time and a little more biomass before it gets some serious momentum.
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| Compost Stage 1 This is what the area looked like before I did anything to it. It was basically a big heap of fruit skins, sticks and garbage that neighborly neighbors had contributed. It stank pretty badly because it was rotting in a puddle, creating anarobic decomposition. It smelled like really stinky booze. The next picture shows the contour of the land. |
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| Compost Stage 2 I had originally chosen this spot to build because it was slightly higher than the surrounding area. Although, as you can see by the way the stones sit that it was still concaved into a dip. I was also interested in using the tree as one of my four post supports. |
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| Compost Stage 3 I decided to put the extra sticks to use. I needed some material to fill in the hole. I figured they'd compost down into a nice platform underneath the stones. I placed the long ones horizontally and the shorter ones vertically to create a sort of mat. |
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| Compost Stage 4 I then used the extra soil around the area along with a small amount of compost to fill in the spaces between sticks. And I lined the perimeter with large stones to establish my boundary. |
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| Compost Stage 5 Once I finished the perimeter I filled in the rest with larger stones. Then I swept sand and gravel over the top of those to create a more level surface and better drainage. |
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| Compost Stage 6 The next step was to prepare my bamboo posts that I had stolen *ahem* found. (They won't miss them). I sharpened the ends as best I could and pounded them into two of the corners. Next, I used placed the large tree branch I had also "found" across the street and tied the top of it to the tree above for stability. |
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| Compost Stage 7 Sorry about the poor picture quality. My camera wouldn't focus on the fencing. Here you can see the end product with the chicken wire attached to the posts. I stretched it fairly tight to add strength to the structure. The entire area is quite large and has plenty of room to create a large compost batch. |
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| Compost Stage 8 As a final touch, I added a ramp to the compost area. If I become motivated I may finish the area out with more rocks around the neighborhood. I think it would be nice not to have to step in the mud every time I turn the compost pile. |
After all that fun stuff I still had two bamboo pieces left; one fat one and one skinny one. Shayla wanted a free-standing staff to dance for her birthday party tomorrow. So I fitted the skinny one inside the fatter one for extra strength and dropped it down into an old water jug filled with sand from the empty lot across the street.
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| Sand in the base makes it fairly sturdy. |
Ground Up
10-17-2012
09:26
Coatepec, Mexico
Today marks one week at my most recent temporary residence. I hopped an early bus out of DF to Xalapa and got to Coatepec by three. It wasn't as nice as the bus out of Guadalajara. It didn't have touch screen Duck Hunt. But it was still nice and I enjoyed the ride more or less. You have to hand it to them. The buses here are nice. This ain't no Greyhound with seven layers of white trash grubbing up the armrests. They're clean, quiet and quite comfortable. Me gusta mucho.
It's always nice to have a little alone time, too. I'm constantly in tune with the mental and emotional energy of everything and everyone around me. It allows me to be a... Well, not quite a mind-reader. But more like a heart-reader. It's a great gift. But it's difficult to turn off and it becomes overwhelming when I'm constantly absorbing the emotional information from everyone around me. Sometimes it's nice just to be alone. That's one of the reasons I really enjoyed long distance running and other zen tasks. It's just me, myself and I. The Three Amigos. It's nice to say hello every now and again. And the bus was a perfect place for the powwow.
...
DF is just like any other city, as soon as you're out of the city limits - guess what? Cows and cornfields, baby. Everywhere. Farmers don't bother planting anything on the hillsides. There are plenty of valleys to sow their seed. Plus, it's flatter, wetter and more fertile. They're doing everything by hand - so you do the math.
Staying in DF was nice. I REALLY enjoyed hanging out with Carlos and Toño. Even though we did get out of the house a few times just to mix it up, what I really enjoyed was just hanging out, catching up on sleep and maoing down all the amazing food that Toño came up with. THANKS, Toño! Yummy!
But big cities... Yeah, they kind of freak me out a little. It's not that I don't like them, there's just so much going on I can't pay attention to anything. I'm much more comfortable in a small town. I feel like I can walk around more, despite the stares, and explore things on my own terms. I like Coatepec. It's small, the people seem nice and there are actually a few other Gringos here.
Coatepec is just south of Xalapa, a decently sized city in the state of Veracruz. Walking down the main street it feels much more like "Mexico" as I would have imagined it. It's more rural, the people are a little darker and it's not quite jungle but it's a lot closer than the dry semidesert of western Mexico. And to top it all off you can clearly see the snowpeaked top of a nearby volcano. Hell yeah!
This town is known for its incredible coffee production. I've only had a little bit, but trust me, it's good. I'm not sure how much shipping is but if anyone wants to make an order (Tom Posen) I'd be happy to send some your way!
But drinking coffee isn't all I'm doing here. The reason I ended up here for a little stint is to complete another work exchange. I spend the days on and off completing various tasks to help out my host:
Shayla is originally from the US. She went to the University of Texas, worked for Apple, did the kinds of things that any human on this planet would do - whatever she wanted. And then she got sick. Real sick.
Shayla ended up in the hospital for a long period of time. Scar tissue from a childhood case of appendicitis had been strangling her intestines; making digestion nearly impossible and rendering her very weak. Her heart stopped pumping and her blood-starved brain began to shut down; resulting in brain damage. As a result, she now needs help doing things that you and I take very much for granted. Like walking and removing a sticky jar lid. So I'm here to be an extra set of hands. And feet. I take care of her dog, Choco, run to town for groceries, help out in the kitchen and try to beat Maeve (another help exchanger) to the ever present sink of dishes. Man, she's fast.
...
Coming here I wasn't sure exactly what to expect. I guess I never really can be sure. I'm living in someone else's house and earning my keep through the completion of various tasks. So I can't be too picky. Overall though, I'd say I did a fairly good job of interviewing this host. I've got my own room, there's super fast WiFi and DELICIOUS food. Delicious. Which brings me to my next point.
I think it would be fair to say that we all have a little bit of room for improvement in our lives. In all areas. I have a lot that need some work. Watching Shayla scoot around in her little chair (watch your toes!) has really inspired me to look inward and think about the things that I can focus on. I mean, she's come back from complete dependence - like, tracheotomy dependence - to a state where she can walk with a little help and do most of the things that any abled-bodied person can do. I think I can step it up a notch. Here are the things I'm currently focusing on:
- Diet
- Excercise, Flexibility, Focus
- Time Management
- Life Vector
So I'm working from the ground up. I'm taking some time to think about the places I've been, the things I've done and learned and what it is that I want to do with all of these things. Mostly, I feel a little scrambled. Ground up. Like a million bits of speckled sand splashed upon the seashore. I am the beach. Each unique grain retains a solid core, a tiny truth hauled down from wizened mountains by a thousand rivers. Tumbled and stripped of extraneous bullshit I'm left with the purest of truths. A boulder becomes a speck. A speck becomes a pearl. Or, with the proper forge and concentration, a crystal lens to see the world anew.
...
SO... Diet.
I've never been a vegetarian. I love meat. Yummy. Animals. They're delicious. But now that I'm here... in this house... I decided to give it a shot. I figured, all the pieces are in place. Both of the other people that live here are experienced in preparing delicious vegetarian meals. The meals are extremely nutritious and fresh. I'm pretty sure I'm getting everything that I need. So why fight it. Life's about trying new things, right?
It's working out pretty well. We eat all vegetarian (plus yogurt, keifer and rarely eggs) and as much raw as possible. I'm not sure what the science is behind it all but I can tell you how I feel so far. I'm a week into this regimen and the first thing I noticed after a lot of junk food before was a much "lighter" feeling inside. Meals were filling but not coma-inducing. And remember that plugged up feeling I was having. Yep. That's gone. Now, I have what I like to call "Happy Poops"! Happy! Yay! They don't hurt and they're much more... Shall we say..? Lignin efficient.
The other thing that I've noticed is a definite increase in energy. I feel much more alert and aware. Sustained energy. Not your usual hunger panging, face-stuffing, stomach pumping, mozzarella cheese clumping colon blow routine that half a pizza and six pack will bring about. It's good. I feel healthy. And good food starts to taste a lot better, too.
Another thing that I've noticed is a definite clearing of my complexion. I wasn't super pocked up or anything. But I noticed a clearing of the skin on my face. All but a few blackheads are gone. And I don't use anything on my face. No special scrubs. All they did usually was dry my skin and lead to an oily overcompensation. It's a very visible change and cool to see.
...
Exercise, Flexibility, Focus
These are more easily said than achieved. But I'm tired of feeling tight, weak and unmotivated. My back hurts so much most of the time that feeling "normal" is a privilege only a hard-earned *pop* or a medicated toke can rectify. Both are only temporary. They fix the symptoms but not the cause. I gots prollems.
I've had back pain for a long time. And so has my brother. And our father. And all of his brothers. And their father. Pattern? Check. I think it's caused from these four things in order of contribution:
- Lack of core strength
- Poor posture
- Stress
- Genetics
So it looks like the things that are causing the pain are the things that I also have the most control over. Luckily for me, I really am in the right place to get "straightened out". Both Shayla and Maeve (pronounced 'Mave") are pretty adamant about practicing yoga; something that I love but know very little about. It incorporates all the things that I've been missing from my physical health into one therapeutic experience (minus cardio).
Sidenote: I think the main reasons I've found it so hard to get motivated about my own physical activity over the last few years are because:
A. All of my physically intensive experiences from my youth were team activities. I always had somebody else to compete with. Someone there motivating me.
AND
B. I feel like I'm so far behind that picking up momentum is tough. It's difficult to gain traction. But I will. I'm determined. I think a small push and I'm trundling this badboy.
...
Time Management
I am notorious for terrible time management. I am the KING procrastinator. "Ahhhh... It'll work itself out." That, or I don't care enough about it to watch it crash and burn. "Meh... Whatever." Not exactly a "go getter" mentality. The problem is that I just get so bored eventually. I don't think I'm ADD. I'm just very selective about what I chose to get interested in because sometimes I get REALLY interested. And that's a lot of energy. Therefore, this category is concerned with compartmentalizing my time resources and making better use of smaller bits instead of waiting for FIVE HOURS to sit down and get something done. Fifteen minutes is a dangerous amount of time to get something done if you're motivated. And I think that's my missing link. Motivation. I'm working on it.
...
Life Vector
There is too much to this section to spill out completely, but the main effort is to first look inward at myself, my skills and my interests and compile a set of possible projected futures. I'm not as committed to creating specific life goals so much as I am transforming my chaotic ambitions from amoebic globules into a formidable stream of consciousness. No big deal, right? It's fun wandering, but I think I want to make it a little more intentional. As one wise homeless drug addict once told me, "Wander well and know where to wander." Thanks, man.
...
I think next time I'll put up a bunch of pictures. I stashed a few of them on my facebook. But I really want to show you the composting station I built. Eets kewl mon.
09:26
Coatepec, Mexico
Today marks one week at my most recent temporary residence. I hopped an early bus out of DF to Xalapa and got to Coatepec by three. It wasn't as nice as the bus out of Guadalajara. It didn't have touch screen Duck Hunt. But it was still nice and I enjoyed the ride more or less. You have to hand it to them. The buses here are nice. This ain't no Greyhound with seven layers of white trash grubbing up the armrests. They're clean, quiet and quite comfortable. Me gusta mucho.
It's always nice to have a little alone time, too. I'm constantly in tune with the mental and emotional energy of everything and everyone around me. It allows me to be a... Well, not quite a mind-reader. But more like a heart-reader. It's a great gift. But it's difficult to turn off and it becomes overwhelming when I'm constantly absorbing the emotional information from everyone around me. Sometimes it's nice just to be alone. That's one of the reasons I really enjoyed long distance running and other zen tasks. It's just me, myself and I. The Three Amigos. It's nice to say hello every now and again. And the bus was a perfect place for the powwow.
...
DF is just like any other city, as soon as you're out of the city limits - guess what? Cows and cornfields, baby. Everywhere. Farmers don't bother planting anything on the hillsides. There are plenty of valleys to sow their seed. Plus, it's flatter, wetter and more fertile. They're doing everything by hand - so you do the math.
Staying in DF was nice. I REALLY enjoyed hanging out with Carlos and Toño. Even though we did get out of the house a few times just to mix it up, what I really enjoyed was just hanging out, catching up on sleep and maoing down all the amazing food that Toño came up with. THANKS, Toño! Yummy!
But big cities... Yeah, they kind of freak me out a little. It's not that I don't like them, there's just so much going on I can't pay attention to anything. I'm much more comfortable in a small town. I feel like I can walk around more, despite the stares, and explore things on my own terms. I like Coatepec. It's small, the people seem nice and there are actually a few other Gringos here.
Coatepec is just south of Xalapa, a decently sized city in the state of Veracruz. Walking down the main street it feels much more like "Mexico" as I would have imagined it. It's more rural, the people are a little darker and it's not quite jungle but it's a lot closer than the dry semidesert of western Mexico. And to top it all off you can clearly see the snowpeaked top of a nearby volcano. Hell yeah!
This town is known for its incredible coffee production. I've only had a little bit, but trust me, it's good. I'm not sure how much shipping is but if anyone wants to make an order (Tom Posen) I'd be happy to send some your way!
But drinking coffee isn't all I'm doing here. The reason I ended up here for a little stint is to complete another work exchange. I spend the days on and off completing various tasks to help out my host:
Shayla is originally from the US. She went to the University of Texas, worked for Apple, did the kinds of things that any human on this planet would do - whatever she wanted. And then she got sick. Real sick.
Shayla ended up in the hospital for a long period of time. Scar tissue from a childhood case of appendicitis had been strangling her intestines; making digestion nearly impossible and rendering her very weak. Her heart stopped pumping and her blood-starved brain began to shut down; resulting in brain damage. As a result, she now needs help doing things that you and I take very much for granted. Like walking and removing a sticky jar lid. So I'm here to be an extra set of hands. And feet. I take care of her dog, Choco, run to town for groceries, help out in the kitchen and try to beat Maeve (another help exchanger) to the ever present sink of dishes. Man, she's fast.
...
I enjoy being here and feeling useful. It's a good trade. From the outside looking in it may seem like Shayla is a bit demanding. But I don't think that's accurate. Right away I knew that we were very similar and so I understood where she was coming from. She's anal! Takes one to know one! And so am I. I like things done a certain way. Why? Because that's usually the best way to do it. There usually IS a best way to do something. That... Or that's just the way I like it. So there. And if I wasn't the one physically able to complete the task then I would try to be extremely articulate about how I was interested in having that task completed. So I get it. Totally. She's not demanding. She's directing.
Coming here I wasn't sure exactly what to expect. I guess I never really can be sure. I'm living in someone else's house and earning my keep through the completion of various tasks. So I can't be too picky. Overall though, I'd say I did a fairly good job of interviewing this host. I've got my own room, there's super fast WiFi and DELICIOUS food. Delicious. Which brings me to my next point.
I think it would be fair to say that we all have a little bit of room for improvement in our lives. In all areas. I have a lot that need some work. Watching Shayla scoot around in her little chair (watch your toes!) has really inspired me to look inward and think about the things that I can focus on. I mean, she's come back from complete dependence - like, tracheotomy dependence - to a state where she can walk with a little help and do most of the things that any abled-bodied person can do. I think I can step it up a notch. Here are the things I'm currently focusing on:
- Diet
- Excercise, Flexibility, Focus
- Time Management
- Life Vector
So I'm working from the ground up. I'm taking some time to think about the places I've been, the things I've done and learned and what it is that I want to do with all of these things. Mostly, I feel a little scrambled. Ground up. Like a million bits of speckled sand splashed upon the seashore. I am the beach. Each unique grain retains a solid core, a tiny truth hauled down from wizened mountains by a thousand rivers. Tumbled and stripped of extraneous bullshit I'm left with the purest of truths. A boulder becomes a speck. A speck becomes a pearl. Or, with the proper forge and concentration, a crystal lens to see the world anew.
...
SO... Diet.
I've never been a vegetarian. I love meat. Yummy. Animals. They're delicious. But now that I'm here... in this house... I decided to give it a shot. I figured, all the pieces are in place. Both of the other people that live here are experienced in preparing delicious vegetarian meals. The meals are extremely nutritious and fresh. I'm pretty sure I'm getting everything that I need. So why fight it. Life's about trying new things, right?
It's working out pretty well. We eat all vegetarian (plus yogurt, keifer and rarely eggs) and as much raw as possible. I'm not sure what the science is behind it all but I can tell you how I feel so far. I'm a week into this regimen and the first thing I noticed after a lot of junk food before was a much "lighter" feeling inside. Meals were filling but not coma-inducing. And remember that plugged up feeling I was having. Yep. That's gone. Now, I have what I like to call "Happy Poops"! Happy! Yay! They don't hurt and they're much more... Shall we say..? Lignin efficient.
The other thing that I've noticed is a definite increase in energy. I feel much more alert and aware. Sustained energy. Not your usual hunger panging, face-stuffing, stomach pumping, mozzarella cheese clumping colon blow routine that half a pizza and six pack will bring about. It's good. I feel healthy. And good food starts to taste a lot better, too.
Another thing that I've noticed is a definite clearing of my complexion. I wasn't super pocked up or anything. But I noticed a clearing of the skin on my face. All but a few blackheads are gone. And I don't use anything on my face. No special scrubs. All they did usually was dry my skin and lead to an oily overcompensation. It's a very visible change and cool to see.
...
Exercise, Flexibility, Focus
These are more easily said than achieved. But I'm tired of feeling tight, weak and unmotivated. My back hurts so much most of the time that feeling "normal" is a privilege only a hard-earned *pop* or a medicated toke can rectify. Both are only temporary. They fix the symptoms but not the cause. I gots prollems.
I've had back pain for a long time. And so has my brother. And our father. And all of his brothers. And their father. Pattern? Check. I think it's caused from these four things in order of contribution:
- Lack of core strength
- Poor posture
- Stress
- Genetics
So it looks like the things that are causing the pain are the things that I also have the most control over. Luckily for me, I really am in the right place to get "straightened out". Both Shayla and Maeve (pronounced 'Mave") are pretty adamant about practicing yoga; something that I love but know very little about. It incorporates all the things that I've been missing from my physical health into one therapeutic experience (minus cardio).
Sidenote: I think the main reasons I've found it so hard to get motivated about my own physical activity over the last few years are because:
A. All of my physically intensive experiences from my youth were team activities. I always had somebody else to compete with. Someone there motivating me.
AND
B. I feel like I'm so far behind that picking up momentum is tough. It's difficult to gain traction. But I will. I'm determined. I think a small push and I'm trundling this badboy.
...
Time Management
I am notorious for terrible time management. I am the KING procrastinator. "Ahhhh... It'll work itself out." That, or I don't care enough about it to watch it crash and burn. "Meh... Whatever." Not exactly a "go getter" mentality. The problem is that I just get so bored eventually. I don't think I'm ADD. I'm just very selective about what I chose to get interested in because sometimes I get REALLY interested. And that's a lot of energy. Therefore, this category is concerned with compartmentalizing my time resources and making better use of smaller bits instead of waiting for FIVE HOURS to sit down and get something done. Fifteen minutes is a dangerous amount of time to get something done if you're motivated. And I think that's my missing link. Motivation. I'm working on it.
...
Life Vector
There is too much to this section to spill out completely, but the main effort is to first look inward at myself, my skills and my interests and compile a set of possible projected futures. I'm not as committed to creating specific life goals so much as I am transforming my chaotic ambitions from amoebic globules into a formidable stream of consciousness. No big deal, right? It's fun wandering, but I think I want to make it a little more intentional. As one wise homeless drug addict once told me, "Wander well and know where to wander." Thanks, man.
...
I think next time I'll put up a bunch of pictures. I stashed a few of them on my facebook. But I really want to show you the composting station I built. Eets kewl mon.
La Lengua
10-13-2012
22:10
Coatepec, Mexico
...
Let's get to the actual learning part, yeah?
22:10
Coatepec, Mexico
I used to listen to Spanish radio while I fell asleep. I figured my teenage brain would work it out eventually. And while I don't know if it significantly contributed, it did give me dreams with some wicked subtitles.
But I'm pretty sure it did help. Or at least listening did. I had always been a good listener. My parents might disagree, however, it probably didn't seem that way to them. I think eventually they figured out that I was really good at listening to exactly what I was interested in. Other things kind of didn't make the team.
It's a love/hate relationship with my attention span. I have the ability to "zoom in" on a particular subject matter; poke it and prod it in my brain to see what shapes I can make with it. I can get completely absorbed into a task and forget all other things. Food, water, chores I should be doing. They all take a nap. I lose track of time and then may become immediately uninterested in what I was doing. So sometimes it's difficult to get the correct things done.
It's a love/hate relationship with my attention span. I have the ability to "zoom in" on a particular subject matter; poke it and prod it in my brain to see what shapes I can make with it. I can get completely absorbed into a task and forget all other things. Food, water, chores I should be doing. They all take a nap. I lose track of time and then may become immediately uninterested in what I was doing. So sometimes it's difficult to get the correct things done.
But the moral of the story is, I can focus in on details that slip most people. I use these skills to do my best to imitate subtle nuances inherent in other languages. I realize that I will probably always have a bit of an American accent but I'd like to try to minimize it as much as possible. One trick I've picked up working on specific phonemes is to listen to how a native speaker of another language speaks your native language. AKA, listen to their accent and pay attention to the sounds that they have difficulty with and the sounds that they make instead. Those are the native sounds that they use that they can't get rid of. I try to use those sounds. Imitating accents is funny, but it's also a handy tool in speaking someone else's language more precisely.
As it turns out, even though I am light years from fluent I constantly receive positive feedback that my accent is quite good. However, this creates another love/hate situation because at the moment I cannot carry on a decent conversation with a stranger. Thus, when they hear my accent they think I'm fluent and attempt to speak to me as such. Therefore, I try to ham it up just a little so they know I'm a novice and I need them to speak slower. In the end, though, if I become fluent I may be able to get away with blending in pretty well.
As it turns out, even though I am light years from fluent I constantly receive positive feedback that my accent is quite good. However, this creates another love/hate situation because at the moment I cannot carry on a decent conversation with a stranger. Thus, when they hear my accent they think I'm fluent and attempt to speak to me as such. Therefore, I try to ham it up just a little so they know I'm a novice and I need them to speak slower. In the end, though, if I become fluent I may be able to get away with blending in pretty well.
Right now I'm at the point where I got distracted from my language learning task. I need to jump back into it. As Carlos pointed the other night, I've been really lazy and not trying to learn recently. And that's okay. It's a lot to take in. But even with my recent laziness, I have learned a lot.
...
I'm not exactly sure what I was thinking when I came here with regards to language. I think, "I'll figure it out" is what I remember telling myself. And it's true. I am figuring it out. But it hurts a little. Before coming here, my biggest concern with language was that I would be significantly less articulate. I would feel... stupid. Or incapable. I knew it was going to be humbling. And that's something you have to prepare yourself for. Because nothing is more humbling than being completely unable to do what a two year-old can do. You WILL make a fool of yourself. You WILL order something you didn't ask for and you MIGHT accidentally cut a bunch of old grandmas off in the Walmart Seniors line. Whoops.
...
Let's get to the actual learning part, yeah?
Immersion learning kind of works like this -
You're still in the airport and think, "Still kinda looks like America..." But all of a sudden you realize that you can't change the channel. This isn't UniVision. This is you trying to find out where you're going to sleep tonight. Yes. You look very out of place. Ok. Find a map. Oh shit. It's all in Spanish. Goddammit. .....Yes! A Starbucks! English! ...Oh. Nope. Sixty-five bucks seems a little steep for an espresso... Ah! Crap!
You go back and forth soaking in the fact that you're actually in a different country and you need to play by their rules ahora.
Personally, I thought I wasn't going to be nervous about using my Spanish. I was wrong. I definitely got nervous. Especially when I got caught off guard; like when a stranger would ask me a question at a store or something. "Sorry lady... I got nothing. 'No entiendo. Soy gringo.'"
It was much easier to prepare a specific question first and then sort through the results as best I could. Better than that, I learned to think about what some of their followups might be. That way I'm ready to have a conversation and not just spit one phrase out and look completely lost.
But no matter where you are, you can't escape it. You will start learning. Little by little (poco a poco) your brain starts picking out contextual clues and assimilating it with what you know about body language and what you could expect in that situation. From a cloud of mist emerges small raindrops as you pick out and clump together words and phrases.
It's like making a huge puzzle. You dump the pieces out onto the table, flip them over and start to sort them. It doesn't matter what the picture of the puzzle is. It could be solid white. The first thing you do for any puzzle is find the end pieces. Where are the limits? The boundaries. Where is the skeletal structure that I can work with? These are your verbs. You may sound stupid saying, "They want" instead of "you want" but a native speaker can help point you in the right direction if you give them something to work with. Verbs are important. Know at least a couple. Like "want, need, have, find, eat..." This will significantly cut down on the amount of pantomiming you will be performing.
From there you group together like and like. Maybe a blotch of a different color but eventually you find the similarities. Take these groups, lay them out inside the perimeter and guess about where they should go based on the picture on their relationships to each other. These are your pronouns, adjectives and direct objects. Now use the rest of the pieces to fill in the gaps. These are going to be your extensive vocabulary and phrasing. Of course, the last step is the hardest and that's where you'll spend most of your time. You know how it's supposed to look. Now you just need to make it whole.
The most important tool you have in your kit is your ability to actively follow a conversation even if you don't understand ANYTHING that's spoken. You understand more than you think. Watch people's body language. Their expressions. Vocal tones. Look at the way they use their hands and the way they stand. Timing is crucial, too. Underneath all that spoken language is the real root of it all. Try to tune out the audio just a little and focus on what their body is saying. Eventually you'll be able to match that up with what's coming out of their mouth.
Listen to the tone of people's voices. It is kind of a song when you think about it. Once you listen for it you'll start to hear the patterns. Think about something that you could say without any consonants or vowels. Just humming the pitch of your phrase. Something you could say with tape over your mouth. Like, "I don't know". It could literally be written into musical notes to be replicated by an instrument. I know there are some tonal languages like Mandarin and Cantonese and I've always wondered how emotion was expressed through that language. I'm guessing it would be really hard for a non-native speaker to figure it out.
...
So far, I've noticed a few distinct differences between Spanish and English
Spanish
- Words are much more predictable to pronounce. There are a few irregulars but they are rare.
- There are much fewer words used in everyday vocabulary.
- But their many faces (conjugations)
AND
- Words have more possible definitions make it difficult to discern their exact meaning.
English
- Pronunciation of English comes from at least three different languages and is very difficult for non-natives to predict based on spelling.
- There are many, many words. Many have more than one meaning and several synonyms. It's kind of like word overlap.
- Carlos pointed out to me English has a lot of very confusing two-word verbs. "work out", "turn off", "get laid". It's tricky trying to define that.
An interesting point that I discovered with Rodrigo was the way in which native speakers mumble their words. In English we kind of just mush them all together. Other native speakers generally figure it out.
"Wudya wanna do duhday?"
We even change the pronunciation of the consonants to make the language more... Ergonomic, I guess. Spanish speakers do something a little different. Instead of changing the sound of the consonants the just leave them out all together. But they are fairly stringent on maintaining the vowel sounds despite the loss of their former roommates. It's difficult for me to type out an example for you. But trust me, you'll hear it and remember... Just focus on the vowel sounds and you'll be able to guess what the consonants were well enough.
...
I have to admit, it's kind of cool being the English Ambassador. There's never been anything in my life where I was the hands down best at something. I've always been a little competitive and I did okay in some areas, but now, I'm the KING! I am amazing at speaking American English. Go ahead. Ask me anything. The difference between "who" and "whom". Hold on... I got this.
I totally didn't have it. I could NOT adequately translate it. But ANY other question and I'm the master.
And that's where things break down. You reach a point where no amount of google translate or animated hand gestures can explain a rudimentary difference in language. The problem, as I see it, is there are just too many translators. I mean, first of all you're translating abstract brain waves into a vocalization, sending those out to be translated by another person's ears and then reverse thrusters. It's pretty complex when you think about it. Using another operating system makes it a bit trickier. So it doesn't help that spoken language is one giant idiom to begin with. In the end it's kind of a sink or swim situation. You could get by with a doggie paddle but then you'd never be no Michael Phelps, would you? I didn't think so.
It's like making a huge puzzle. You dump the pieces out onto the table, flip them over and start to sort them. It doesn't matter what the picture of the puzzle is. It could be solid white. The first thing you do for any puzzle is find the end pieces. Where are the limits? The boundaries. Where is the skeletal structure that I can work with? These are your verbs. You may sound stupid saying, "They want" instead of "you want" but a native speaker can help point you in the right direction if you give them something to work with. Verbs are important. Know at least a couple. Like "want, need, have, find, eat..." This will significantly cut down on the amount of pantomiming you will be performing.
From there you group together like and like. Maybe a blotch of a different color but eventually you find the similarities. Take these groups, lay them out inside the perimeter and guess about where they should go based on the picture on their relationships to each other. These are your pronouns, adjectives and direct objects. Now use the rest of the pieces to fill in the gaps. These are going to be your extensive vocabulary and phrasing. Of course, the last step is the hardest and that's where you'll spend most of your time. You know how it's supposed to look. Now you just need to make it whole.
The most important tool you have in your kit is your ability to actively follow a conversation even if you don't understand ANYTHING that's spoken. You understand more than you think. Watch people's body language. Their expressions. Vocal tones. Look at the way they use their hands and the way they stand. Timing is crucial, too. Underneath all that spoken language is the real root of it all. Try to tune out the audio just a little and focus on what their body is saying. Eventually you'll be able to match that up with what's coming out of their mouth.
In the same way that we gather information about a person's state or intention through facial expression, we also download quite a bit through tonality and pitch of spoken language.
Listen to the tone of people's voices. It is kind of a song when you think about it. Once you listen for it you'll start to hear the patterns. Think about something that you could say without any consonants or vowels. Just humming the pitch of your phrase. Something you could say with tape over your mouth. Like, "I don't know". It could literally be written into musical notes to be replicated by an instrument. I know there are some tonal languages like Mandarin and Cantonese and I've always wondered how emotion was expressed through that language. I'm guessing it would be really hard for a non-native speaker to figure it out.
All in all I'd say this video clip from the film The Thirteenth Warrior illustrates immersion learning quite well.
...
So far, I've noticed a few distinct differences between Spanish and English
Spanish
- Words are much more predictable to pronounce. There are a few irregulars but they are rare.
- There are much fewer words used in everyday vocabulary.
- But their many faces (conjugations)
AND
- Words have more possible definitions make it difficult to discern their exact meaning.
English
- Pronunciation of English comes from at least three different languages and is very difficult for non-natives to predict based on spelling.
- There are many, many words. Many have more than one meaning and several synonyms. It's kind of like word overlap.
- Carlos pointed out to me English has a lot of very confusing two-word verbs. "work out", "turn off", "get laid". It's tricky trying to define that.
An interesting point that I discovered with Rodrigo was the way in which native speakers mumble their words. In English we kind of just mush them all together. Other native speakers generally figure it out.
"Wudya wanna do duhday?"
We even change the pronunciation of the consonants to make the language more... Ergonomic, I guess. Spanish speakers do something a little different. Instead of changing the sound of the consonants the just leave them out all together. But they are fairly stringent on maintaining the vowel sounds despite the loss of their former roommates. It's difficult for me to type out an example for you. But trust me, you'll hear it and remember... Just focus on the vowel sounds and you'll be able to guess what the consonants were well enough.
...
I have to admit, it's kind of cool being the English Ambassador. There's never been anything in my life where I was the hands down best at something. I've always been a little competitive and I did okay in some areas, but now, I'm the KING! I am amazing at speaking American English. Go ahead. Ask me anything. The difference between "who" and "whom". Hold on... I got this.
I totally didn't have it. I could NOT adequately translate it. But ANY other question and I'm the master.
And that's where things break down. You reach a point where no amount of google translate or animated hand gestures can explain a rudimentary difference in language. The problem, as I see it, is there are just too many translators. I mean, first of all you're translating abstract brain waves into a vocalization, sending those out to be translated by another person's ears and then reverse thrusters. It's pretty complex when you think about it. Using another operating system makes it a bit trickier. So it doesn't help that spoken language is one giant idiom to begin with. In the end it's kind of a sink or swim situation. You could get by with a doggie paddle but then you'd never be no Michael Phelps, would you? I didn't think so.
La Comida
10-7-2012
11:43
Mexico City
While I was in Guadalajara I got the chance to try the local fare. For the first couple of nights we kept it pretty simple: cerveza y papas con salsa picante (beer and chips with salsa). If you've ever hung around real Mexicans you'll find that eating dry chips borders on blasphemy. The proper technique is to slice open the bag all the way. ...I mean - all the way. Like, open it, and then pull the seams apart until you get to the bottom. Don't worry, you're not going to save any of these for later; there are eight people here. Next, pop the top on your sasla picante and apply liberally. Your fingers will get wet. Welcome to the communal meal! =D
...
I learned that Mexicans have a very different meal schedule than Americans. We have three, they have four: Desayuno, Almuerzo, Comida, and Cena (SAY-nuh).
Desayuno = A light breakfast eaten first thing in the morning. Maybe fruit and yogurt or some pan (bread) with some coffee or juice.
Almuerzo = A heavier breakfast or lunch. Might consist of a protein source like eggs, or meat. So far I've eaten a lot of chilaquiles. This is a dish made with chopped up and fried tortillas with homemade spicy sauce. It's really, really good.
Comida = The biggest meal of the day. Tacos, enchiladas, ensalada, sopa, you name it. It's fair game. If you're shooting for a taco stand make sure to hit them up early on in the afternoon. They might run out.
Cena = This meal happens late. Much later than most Americans eat dinner. Usually around nine or ten and isn't too heavy. Maybe a couple of tacos y arroz o frijoles.
...
The nighttime chip diet was okay but I still had to fend for myself during the day. I mostly ate street taco stands. These things are everywhere. They pop up during that "Comida" dime of the day. Like a fruiting mushrooms after an Autumn rain, they bloom at eleven and wilt by two. We tried to get some Tortas Ahogadas (a specialty of Guadalajara) but we were too late. They were already sweeping up. I had to wait a couple of days to get my paws in one. But once I did, I maod that bad boy.
Here's a picture of what it looks like. It's kind of a Mexican version of a Roast Beef Sandwich Au Jus. I would have taken a picture of mine but I was so hungry I totally forgot.
What was really cool was that while we were eating, a street mariachi band came up to play us some songs. The woman who made our food requested three songs specifically and the three amigos belted out each one like their lives depended on. Screw youtube. This is real live entertainment. And their lives do depend on it. I grew up with the idea that I'd finish high school, go to college, get a good job and live happily ever after. Well. That's not the path I took. But these guys never had a choice. Singing for ten pesos a track is what they went to school for. One after another, they pour their hearts through their hands and beat it out of a patchworked upright, one thin drum and the blown out accordion. Good work, boys. Same time tomorrow?
What amazes me the most about these food stands is how little they need to operate. I've seen some elaborate set-ups. But the majority of them are simple. Extremely simple. Some people bring their food precooked in insulated buckets or coolers. Add a few smaller containers for toppings and you've got a food stand. They bring it all set and ready to go. The ones who were cooking though, guess what they were using. That's right. Wood. Like, charcoal made from charred wood. Have you ever had wood-fired street food? Oh. My. God. That's worth a day or two of penitence on the Sir Herrington.
The other choice was hole-in-the-wall restaurants. And I truly mean hole-in-the-wall. I ate at one place that couldn't have been more than eight feet square. The woman running it pulls a stove on wheels out to make room for three or four people to squeeze in around a small table. Five tacos and a drink for about $40. All served on a plate wrapped in a plastic bag. Slightly wasteful but clean and fast. And that's pesos, folks, not dollars. They use the same sign here. All in all about three U.S. dollars. Not bad for a full, fresh, authentic meal.
Coming to Mexico, I really thought I was going to get sick. Every once in a while I'd get the McGrumblies and think, "Oh boy. Clear your schedule. Here comes Montezuma's Revenge. REPENT! REPENT!" But it was usually just gas from all the frijoles.
Before setting out on this trip, I had to get comfortable with three things:
- I would get sick.
- I would get robbed
And
- I would have an awesome time regardless.
So far, none of those have happened. Actually, I did kind of have the snivels yesterday. But as far as gastrointestinal stuff goes, the opposite has happened. Things have not been moving quickly, so to speak. I usually drink several liters of water a day and I haven't maintained that practice here. I think that's the main culprit. But I'm still honestly surprised I haven't gotten sick. Maybe it's still coming. Maybe I just have a pretty good immune system from shoveling all sorts of caca over the past couple of years.
The other thing that I've learned to love here are the Panaderias (bakeries). Oh my god. So good. And so cheap. You can get a fresh loaf of kickass artisan bread for about eight pesos. Let's see... Carry the two... That's sixty cents). That's ridiculous. And their dessert bread is off the chain.
Like anything else you could ever want to buy in Mexico, you don't have to go any market whatsoever. Sometimes the market comes right to you. Vendors ride all kinds of Frankenbikes and carts up and down the street yelling, honking horns or blowing whistles to let you know that they're there and they have what you might want. It's hot, it's fresh, it doesn't get much better than that.
One thing I definitely miss so far... I'm really trying not to jump on the homesick train just yet. That's a lonesome journey. BUT. The thing I miss the most right now - other than my friends - is dark beer! WTF, Mexico?! A little IPA won't kill you. How 'bout a Sierra Nevada or a Guinness, huh? It's delicious. Send a case my way, yeah?
One the other hand, they do have THIS:
Now that I'm in DF, my couch host Toño cooks all the time. Chef Toño!! It's awesome. I contribute by buying his culinary ammunition, washing dishes and constant delivery of compliments. It's a wonderful relationship. Although, maybe I should go a little easy on the spice. It's gonna burn me eventually. 'Cause if it burns going in...
I haven't eaten at a lot of restaurants. Mostly because it's more expensive, you have to wait longer to get your food AND you have to speak more Spanish. I'm rather proud of myself for stepping foot in one the other day solo and everything went fine. Except they kept offering me bread and I didn't want any. Plus, it was a trick. They wanted me to think it was free and then have to pay for it later. LIARS!
Anyway, I ordered Milanesa which, if you've ever had chicken fried steak... Well. That's what it is. Except here it's served with tortillas and salsa picante. It's really quite good with some avocados and fresh tomatoes. In Mexico DF red tomatoes are called jitomates (HEE-toe-mah-tays). Saying just tomate refers to green tomatoes.
I'd have to say that my favorite part of the dining experience was watching a few clips of epic fail videos on the mounted TV in the restaurant. Myself and the rest of the all-male kitchen staff busted up over watching stupid teenagers rack their balls attempting skateboarding tricks. Ah... Humanity. Such a beautiful thing.
One last side note. Apparently chickens down here have been getting sick and they've either been dying or refusing to lay. Applying the well understood notion of supply and demand we can understand that the price of eggs have skyrocketed. They now cost over three times their usual price. Consequently, a recent running joke has been that if something is expensive or overpriced that it "costs you an egg". Add the cultural reference that un huevo (an egg) is the Mexican equivalent of testicle to bring this joke full circle to impress your friends.
...
Well, Bloggy Bloggers. I hope you enjoyed this. I'm really trying to get more photos up. It's really a pain since I'm so goddammed lazy. But you know. We work with what we have... :-)
P.S. Burger King delivers here. The motorbikes they have outfitted are kinda pimp.
11:43
Mexico City
While I was in Guadalajara I got the chance to try the local fare. For the first couple of nights we kept it pretty simple: cerveza y papas con salsa picante (beer and chips with salsa). If you've ever hung around real Mexicans you'll find that eating dry chips borders on blasphemy. The proper technique is to slice open the bag all the way. ...I mean - all the way. Like, open it, and then pull the seams apart until you get to the bottom. Don't worry, you're not going to save any of these for later; there are eight people here. Next, pop the top on your sasla picante and apply liberally. Your fingers will get wet. Welcome to the communal meal! =D
 |
| Observe: Veterans. |
...
I learned that Mexicans have a very different meal schedule than Americans. We have three, they have four: Desayuno, Almuerzo, Comida, and Cena (SAY-nuh).
Desayuno = A light breakfast eaten first thing in the morning. Maybe fruit and yogurt or some pan (bread) with some coffee or juice.
Almuerzo = A heavier breakfast or lunch. Might consist of a protein source like eggs, or meat. So far I've eaten a lot of chilaquiles. This is a dish made with chopped up and fried tortillas with homemade spicy sauce. It's really, really good.
Comida = The biggest meal of the day. Tacos, enchiladas, ensalada, sopa, you name it. It's fair game. If you're shooting for a taco stand make sure to hit them up early on in the afternoon. They might run out.
Cena = This meal happens late. Much later than most Americans eat dinner. Usually around nine or ten and isn't too heavy. Maybe a couple of tacos y arroz o frijoles.
...
The nighttime chip diet was okay but I still had to fend for myself during the day. I mostly ate street taco stands. These things are everywhere. They pop up during that "Comida" dime of the day. Like a fruiting mushrooms after an Autumn rain, they bloom at eleven and wilt by two. We tried to get some Tortas Ahogadas (a specialty of Guadalajara) but we were too late. They were already sweeping up. I had to wait a couple of days to get my paws in one. But once I did, I maod that bad boy.
Here's a picture of what it looks like. It's kind of a Mexican version of a Roast Beef Sandwich Au Jus. I would have taken a picture of mine but I was so hungry I totally forgot.
 |
| Torta Ahogada (I did not take this picture) |
What amazes me the most about these food stands is how little they need to operate. I've seen some elaborate set-ups. But the majority of them are simple. Extremely simple. Some people bring their food precooked in insulated buckets or coolers. Add a few smaller containers for toppings and you've got a food stand. They bring it all set and ready to go. The ones who were cooking though, guess what they were using. That's right. Wood. Like, charcoal made from charred wood. Have you ever had wood-fired street food? Oh. My. God. That's worth a day or two of penitence on the Sir Herrington.
The other choice was hole-in-the-wall restaurants. And I truly mean hole-in-the-wall. I ate at one place that couldn't have been more than eight feet square. The woman running it pulls a stove on wheels out to make room for three or four people to squeeze in around a small table. Five tacos and a drink for about $40. All served on a plate wrapped in a plastic bag. Slightly wasteful but clean and fast. And that's pesos, folks, not dollars. They use the same sign here. All in all about three U.S. dollars. Not bad for a full, fresh, authentic meal.
Coming to Mexico, I really thought I was going to get sick. Every once in a while I'd get the McGrumblies and think, "Oh boy. Clear your schedule. Here comes Montezuma's Revenge. REPENT! REPENT!" But it was usually just gas from all the frijoles.
Before setting out on this trip, I had to get comfortable with three things:
- I would get sick.
- I would get robbed
And
- I would have an awesome time regardless.
So far, none of those have happened. Actually, I did kind of have the snivels yesterday. But as far as gastrointestinal stuff goes, the opposite has happened. Things have not been moving quickly, so to speak. I usually drink several liters of water a day and I haven't maintained that practice here. I think that's the main culprit. But I'm still honestly surprised I haven't gotten sick. Maybe it's still coming. Maybe I just have a pretty good immune system from shoveling all sorts of caca over the past couple of years.
The other thing that I've learned to love here are the Panaderias (bakeries). Oh my god. So good. And so cheap. You can get a fresh loaf of kickass artisan bread for about eight pesos. Let's see... Carry the two... That's sixty cents). That's ridiculous. And their dessert bread is off the chain.
 |
| It's like a giant doughnut... Yum. |
One thing I definitely miss so far... I'm really trying not to jump on the homesick train just yet. That's a lonesome journey. BUT. The thing I miss the most right now - other than my friends - is dark beer! WTF, Mexico?! A little IPA won't kill you. How 'bout a Sierra Nevada or a Guinness, huh? It's delicious. Send a case my way, yeah?
One the other hand, they do have THIS:
Alright, Ladies and Germs. Here it is. Introducing: the most amazing carbonated beverage of all time. Mundet Sidral de la Manzana. Oh yeah. It's apple soda and it's amazing. I don't know why they don't have this in the States. Especially since it's owned by... Guess who. Coca-Cola. Yeah. I'm going to miss this when I leave.
Now that I'm in DF, my couch host Toño cooks all the time. Chef Toño!! It's awesome. I contribute by buying his culinary ammunition, washing dishes and constant delivery of compliments. It's a wonderful relationship. Although, maybe I should go a little easy on the spice. It's gonna burn me eventually. 'Cause if it burns going in...
I haven't eaten at a lot of restaurants. Mostly because it's more expensive, you have to wait longer to get your food AND you have to speak more Spanish. I'm rather proud of myself for stepping foot in one the other day solo and everything went fine. Except they kept offering me bread and I didn't want any. Plus, it was a trick. They wanted me to think it was free and then have to pay for it later. LIARS!
Anyway, I ordered Milanesa which, if you've ever had chicken fried steak... Well. That's what it is. Except here it's served with tortillas and salsa picante. It's really quite good with some avocados and fresh tomatoes. In Mexico DF red tomatoes are called jitomates (HEE-toe-mah-tays). Saying just tomate refers to green tomatoes.
I'd have to say that my favorite part of the dining experience was watching a few clips of epic fail videos on the mounted TV in the restaurant. Myself and the rest of the all-male kitchen staff busted up over watching stupid teenagers rack their balls attempting skateboarding tricks. Ah... Humanity. Such a beautiful thing.
One last side note. Apparently chickens down here have been getting sick and they've either been dying or refusing to lay. Applying the well understood notion of supply and demand we can understand that the price of eggs have skyrocketed. They now cost over three times their usual price. Consequently, a recent running joke has been that if something is expensive or overpriced that it "costs you an egg". Add the cultural reference that un huevo (an egg) is the Mexican equivalent of testicle to bring this joke full circle to impress your friends.
...
Well, Bloggy Bloggers. I hope you enjoyed this. I'm really trying to get more photos up. It's really a pain since I'm so goddammed lazy. But you know. We work with what we have... :-)
P.S. Burger King delivers here. The motorbikes they have outfitted are kinda pimp.
Peeing In Public - A City Survival Guide
14:40
Desde Mexico City
Dear Bigtown City, USA,
Taking the scenic route in America is a great way to gain a different perspective of the very country that you live in. Before you know it, instead of your usual highway monotony: Target, Walmart, Best Buy -> repeat. You'll find yourself meandering through picturesque countrysides, open fields and dainty personable towns. All at a decent clip; very much comparable to Google's first recommendation for you. But stop to step inside a diner for a quick Ruben and all the eyes will fall on you.
“Yer not from around here, are yeh?”
They can smell it. The urban. It's eeking out of your pores. It's almost as if you're... WEARING it. Oh, wait, no - that's deodorant.
Now, City Slickers are notorious cliché factories whenever they stray from the beaten trail. They get overcharged and poked fun at for their new-fangled ways. But I'm not from the country. And I'm not from a big city, either. I'm from something in between and cities tend to freak me out. The People Hive is a remarkable and inspiring chandelier. But it dangles on a fraying string. Poorly managed, the string will snap, and I do not want to be there for that shit storm. It's gonna get ugly. Instead, I'll probably be kicking it somewhere by the beach. Come hang out. First cocorita on me.
So this post is for all of you who need a little help with the *ahem* essentials in city survival.
...
...
Transportation
Don't
bring a car to a city! What are you, crazy?! You're just a glutton
for commitment aren't you? Now you've got to pay to park it
everywhere, worry about getting lost, and hope your insurance co. covers two or three active games of bumper cars. If you really need a personal vehicle and you think you can handle it, I recommend ZipCar as a decent option. Less Responsibility = More Fun. Hopefully they offer it in your Hive.
But for the most part, do
yourself a favor and leave the wheels behind. If you really want to get a dose of the local bell curve - use the metro. You'll push past any previous public inhibitions and jump right in with the rest of 'em. Cram into a hot germ tube and subject yourself to a nonstop set list of involuntary entertainment. Singers and slingers. Blasting twenty second bits of last year's hits through a transmografied black backpacks; ten pesos for a mix CD. Up next is an American Idol wannabee and The Toothless Wonders! That's right. The public. They smell. You may as well get it out of the way.
Excluding odors, the metro is an extremely affordable and great way to get a pulse on the vibe of whatever hive you find yourself in. Learn it. Live it. Love it.
...
Armor
Headphones – even if you're not listening to anything. It keeps one or two of the crazies at a safe distance. In fact, I prefer not listening to anything. That way I can appear oblivious all while remaining completely alert. Zombies...
Sunglasses - Your CRAY-dar just went up ten points. Now you can watch them without them knowing. Use that peripheral vision to the best of your abilities. Hola, ladies.
These
two tools are your staples. Your bread and butter, baby. Don't leave home without 'em. With these pieces of survival gear you will keep all but the most adamant street hecklers at bay. Also, footwear. Something comfortable you can put a lot of miles down in. Loose enough to be comfy but tight enough for a quick sprint or a well-placed roundhouse.
...
Assholes
...
Assholes
Poster bill propagandists (or PBP's) thrive on the meager commission they receive from soul-sucking
agendas. They only want your attention... DON'T feed them!
Rule Number one: Avoid eye contact.
Rule Number two: Do not talk to them. It only encourages them.
Rule Number three: As a last resort, kick them. They're not people. Just evil holograms! Roundhouse HYAH!
Evangalists - I'm sorry dude, but this is the twenty-first century. You're not going to out-think my years of scientific research and reasoning. Take your Kool-Aid somewhere else. Plus, I don't like Lime, anyway. You got any grape?
...
Angels
Ok, not really angels. But talk to a homeless person. Have a real conversation. You'll be amazed what you learn. Get ready for some straight up street philosophy.
...
Poaching
WiFi
Step one, choose a vector. Step two, walk one block that direction. Step three, enter or sit outside the Starbucks.
Here's a fun activity. Once fully tapped into a wireless connection, pull up google maps and type in “Starbucks”. Google will then splatter your screen with about two hundred red dots indicating the dwelling places of aforementioned yuppie watering holes.
If you're not in Seattle, consider squatting near a Motel 6 or Apartment complex. They don't all have passwords and one of those babies is a winner.
Step one, choose a vector. Step two, walk one block that direction. Step three, enter or sit outside the Starbucks.
Here's a fun activity. Once fully tapped into a wireless connection, pull up google maps and type in “Starbucks”. Google will then splatter your screen with about two hundred red dots indicating the dwelling places of aforementioned yuppie watering holes.
If you're not in Seattle, consider squatting near a Motel 6 or Apartment complex. They don't all have passwords and one of those babies is a winner.
...
Food
Grocery Stores are of course the cheapest subsistence option. Sometimes I just buy a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter and maybe some fruit. But I get sick of that course pretty quick. Instead, I always opt to seek out decently affordable and delicious food. Street food is a personal fave. The goal is to get the most bang for your buck. And by buck what I really mean is "calories". City food is expensive! Ten bucks for a sandwich? Are you kidding me? We're going to have to get creative in order to make up for this heretical robbery.
When someone asks you if you'd like condiments - The answer is: YES.
Which ones? Yes.
Get as much food out of that pissed off wage slave as you possibly can. But always tip well. Free refills?
Get as much food out of that pissed off wage slave as you possibly can. But always tip well. Free refills?
Go for the grease! It's delicious AND it'll give you the energy you need to hunt a pigeon. Don't be picky. Be thrifty. Forget about your figure. Pop a vitamin! You'll walk it off.
...
Public Urination
Peeing
in the city... What a glorious expression of man's conquest over nature. "Look at what we made! We took earth, melted and molded it and created an incredible artificial organism. And now I'm going to pee on it." It's like Michelangelo throwing his hammer at David's foot, "LIVE!"
I usually just pee outside. Who made up this silly rule that you have to pee inside anyway. It's ridiculous, right? And that's why I'm providing you, the people, with this educational tutorial.
* Disclaimer *
I am a male, and this is not a sexist tutorial. Merely, anatomically biased. I am open to any and all alternative addenda to the Philosophiae Naturalis Principia Urinica. In my time I have witnessed (involuntarily) awe inspiring acts of female acrobatics to accomplish this common goal. You've really gotta hand it to them because they do not have the home field advantage.
I usually just pee outside. Who made up this silly rule that you have to pee inside anyway. It's ridiculous, right? And that's why I'm providing you, the people, with this educational tutorial.
* Disclaimer *
I am a male, and this is not a sexist tutorial. Merely, anatomically biased. I am open to any and all alternative addenda to the Philosophiae Naturalis Principia Urinica. In my time I have witnessed (involuntarily) awe inspiring acts of female acrobatics to accomplish this common goal. You've really gotta hand it to them because they do not have the home field advantage.
Anatomical realities considered, the following should only be attempted by people outfitted with one of the following capabilities:
- A fully functioning and variably pressurized wiener.
And/Or
- Telekenisis
(Bonus points for both.)
...
Things to avoid:
1. Coffee
2. Soft Drinks
3. Alcohol
4. Large Smoothies
5. Herpes (irrelevant, but handy nonetheless)
Ok, so given the fact that we're all going to violate at least numbers 1-3 on that list - AND considering the fact that you're going to need that smoothie to sooth your scorching case of herpes - we'll waste no more time!
...
Location, Location, Location
Cities keep toilets like a dragon keeps a princess. They will be held hostage in the highest room of the tallest tower. Once you have established the unmistakable and immediate desire to relieve yourself be prepared to battle poorly proportioned rent-a-cops, depressingly hopeful dead ends, and outright rejection. If you find yourself both able and willing to slay these beasts - May the force be with you and steer clear of these definite Uh-uh's.
For those "on the go" moments, please consider the following points.
...
Places
to avoid
- Rape Alley - I thought the name would give it away... No? There's a limit on how dark a hole I'm willing to crawl in for privacy. Basically, if it's a hole and it's that dark it probably belongs to whoever peed in there first. If you can smell it before you can see it, it's not your kind of party.
- Windy places - Be a weather vane, young grasshopper. Do not fight the wind. You cannot hit it. But it can hit back. Do NOT back yourself into a corner. Check, and mate.
- Restrooms - When there's more on the ground than in the pipes, it's time to find another baño. Chances are, one slip here and the last thing you'll remember (before waking up in man made puddle) is an onslaught of grammatically incorrect graffiti and corresponding referenced netherparts. Peeing indoors is overrated. Follow me! And I'll show you a wonderful world of magical alternatives! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
- Windy places - Be a weather vane, young grasshopper. Do not fight the wind. You cannot hit it. But it can hit back. Do NOT back yourself into a corner. Check, and mate.
- Restrooms - When there's more on the ground than in the pipes, it's time to find another baño. Chances are, one slip here and the last thing you'll remember (before waking up in man made puddle) is an onslaught of grammatically incorrect graffiti and corresponding referenced netherparts. Peeing indoors is overrated. Follow me! And I'll show you a wonderful world of magical alternatives! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
...
Places
to seek out:
- Parks - Preferably with plenty of vegetative cover, poor lighting and
undulating terrain. Grass takes a lot of the sound out the activity. And also the challenge. Push yourself!
- Vantage points - It's fun to pee off a cliff. It's really fun to pee off a balcony. Aim to maim. Not to kill. Hit the ground. Not the lawsuits.
- Fountains! - It's late at night. Nobodies looking... And cover sound is already in place!
...
Pride
- Vantage points - It's fun to pee off a cliff. It's really fun to pee off a balcony. Aim to maim. Not to kill. Hit the ground. Not the lawsuits.
- Fountains! - It's late at night. Nobodies looking... And cover sound is already in place!
...
Pride
Take
a moment to contextually rationalize your actions. You are about to do something AWESOME. Be careful to
understand all possible permutations to the end of the following sentence:
Well, at least I've never been _______... Some options include:
Well, at least I've never been _______... Some options include:
- Fired
- Arrested
- Violated
- On Youtube
You get the point. The goal throughout this entire adventure is to have fun! Get creative! But don't get caught.
...
Style Points
So now you know the drill and you want to kick it up a notch. I've got just what you're looking for! Here are a few trick moves you can do to send the message that "This ain't your first rodeo". Unless otherwise denoted, all positions listed may be preformed with any zipper-bearing leggings. Or, if you're wearing a kilt... Well. If you're wearing a kilt, you're probably not in a city, are you?
...
Style Points
So now you know the drill and you want to kick it up a notch. I've got just what you're looking for! Here are a few trick moves you can do to send the message that "This ain't your first rodeo". Unless otherwise denoted, all positions listed may be preformed with any zipper-bearing leggings. Or, if you're wearing a kilt... Well. If you're wearing a kilt, you're probably not in a city, are you?
The Playboy (10 points) - Ah! A classic! And so easy to do.
Simply recline to one side, prop your head up with one hand and use the other to water the grass in front of you. Once finished, it might be time to find a new reading spot. This one's attracting flies.
Simply recline to one side, prop your head up with one hand and use the other to water the grass in front of you. Once finished, it might be time to find a new reading spot. This one's attracting flies.
The Penitent Man (20 points) - Super simple but a little more daring.
For this position, start out with in a standard Monica Lewinsky stance and slowly tuck, turn and trickle. That's the real ticket here, folks. Remember to tuck, turn, and trickle.
(For five bonus points - Aim towards Mecca = The Penitent Muslim variation)
For this position, start out with in a standard Monica Lewinsky stance and slowly tuck, turn and trickle. That's the real ticket here, folks. Remember to tuck, turn, and trickle.
(For five bonus points - Aim towards Mecca = The Penitent Muslim variation)
The Dubbed Step – Kneel like as you would a squire being knighted. "I dub thee, Sir Leaksalot." Set your gaze on a far off, distant goal and utilize Dr. Schnitzel's patented "pant leg pull through" technique. Pick the leg that's aiming towards the ground.
The Gutterball (100 points) - Shorts recommended.
To complete this number seat yourself on an uninhabited curb; preferably with a drain. I recommend finding a newspaper or any other large piece of literature to really bring the ensemble together. Remember the three T's? Use them!
To complete this number seat yourself on an uninhabited curb; preferably with a drain. I recommend finding a newspaper or any other large piece of literature to really bring the ensemble together. Remember the three T's? Use them!
The Last Chance (200 points) - You can't hold it anymore. Anywhere will do.
Find the nearest vertical surface you can. Many people call these walls. Assume a standing "Playboy" posture and take your cellphone out to "make a call". Utilize your other hand to facilitate the procedure. Close the angle between yourself and the wall to at least forty-five degrees. Once confident with your stance, take a deep breath, and think happy thoughts. Watch the shoes. Those are leather.
Now, before
committing to a specific style, please try all options and consider the following environmental analysis:
(Remember,
this is a survival situation.)
Where
am I?
What
am I wearing?
Who
am I? (Table this, Nietzsche. Right now you need to pee.)
What's
around me?
What
time of day is it?
How
drunk am I?
How
flexible am I?
What
is the temperature like? (Steam is a dead giveaway. Nothing says "public
urination" like your own personal piss cloud.)
What
resources can I use to my advantage?
How much am I... Uh... Working with here? Is it a club or a nub?
These facts, though possibly humorous to the amateur, figure in quite considerably when selecting the proper time AND place to make your debut drain. Remember life's short. Live a little. So eat dessert first and pee outside!
...
The Art of Urban Peeing is a rapidly growing sport with a burgeoning participating public. Keep up to date with the latest and greatest trends here! Or submit your own style! In order to be accepted valid suggestions should be submitted alongside a witty title, brief operating instructions and crudely drawn stick figures. See previous submissions below.
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