Of course, I’m pretty sure that what I wrote in the title line of this post doesn’t make sense in Spanish at all, but most of you reading this probably don’t speak Spanish anyways. The more pressing concern is that I’m not even sure that it makes sense in English. So, if someone actually does read this (I know you read the last one, but seeing as how this is the second post in a series, your continued interest in my abnormally long monologues containing abnormally long run on sentences is highly unlikely), you can comment with your own expert interpretation of what I was trying to convey if it so floats your bubble, or you can just keep reading if your boring. And that’s fine too, because if you don’t post, we won’t know that you read this and that you’re boring.
My soul is singing! I wrote for two and a half hours last night and finished an entire rough draft of a chapter! I didn’t even know what it was going to be about really, until I started writing and it actually all came together! Hallejuyah! This was a major reminder to me that a) a chapter takes this long to write, b) that it takes me a half hour to ninety minutes of warming myself up and clearing my day to start writing and that c) the internet is death to my creativity. As soon as I log on, there it sits. The blog to be posted, the email to check, the facebook to check, the couchsurfing to check, the questions to look up, the website to update. All great, except when you go to look up a word mid writing spree and realize that you’ve spent fifteen minutes just checking to see if anyone’s written you back in the last hour about tomorrow, yesterday, etc… I know, I know, I have a problem.
So, its been three days since I last posted…aren’t you curious what new adventures I’ve had? Well, no thievery or knifings this round. But, let’s start where we left off, on Monday. I slept in til about 11 again. Hey! I’m on vacation, didn’t you get the memo in the last post?! Besides that’s downright early for someone who normally works until 4 am, sleeps at 5 or 6 and wakes up at 2pm. My first victory on Monday was figuring out how to get the hot water to work, though I’ll admit, it took me another day to figure out how to get the hot and cold to work together to neither freeze nor scald me. This victory accomplished, I cooked eggs and bacon with hot sauce, mmmm…then, okay…its confession time…what I’m about to tell you is deeply disturbing. Morally incomprehensible. Evil incarnate even. Okay, here goes…on my way to the jardin…I stopped at Starbucks. And yes, I even bought a mocha. I can’t even believe that there is a Starbucks here. I justify my actions to myself by reminding myslef that I needed something quick & to-go and that I have a morbid curiosity and wanted to know what a Starbucks in the middle of Mexico would look like? Really, I don’t blame you if you stop reading this right here and now, I mean I’m supporting the ruin of the culture of this little town! Ai! Not that I’m not also doing so by buying replicas of art works as souvenirs and more than supporting the vacation business of San Miguel which is becoming the gentrification of San Miguel…but lets just feel guilty for Starbucks purchases. That’s way more eviler, no? And is what gringos do, no? Besides I didn’t build the Starbucks…or start the fire…
Starbucks in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico
Anyways, after this embarrassing encounter, I went to the jardin to meet Whitney, una chica simpatico that I connected with on Couchsurfing. I got to the jardin an hour early to brainstorm some writing (and make sure I had time to enjoy and safely toss the evidence of the above stain), but strangely all of the writing projects before me, I was really more interested in this potential investment project that I’m thinking about and saving for in a few years…yeah right, I’m telling you what it is! You’ll steal my idea, nosey!
Whitney told me that we would be the only young blond women in the jardin and that we would have no trouble finding each other. She was right. I sat at my little bench writing, and she found me no problem. Not that there are not a lot of gringos near the jardin, its where the tourist center is. But, most of the people moving here and living here are retirees. I also had time to notice that most of the women both gringas and natives were wearing a considerable amount of clothing out on this 80 degree day. But I was sweating! So, I hope that my jeans and wife beater tank top won’t lose me any social invitations in town. We did meet two jovenes that Whitney knows from her travels here, a fire spinner and an accordionist (Okay, I admit it, I just typed accordionist to see if it was a word or if spell check would catch it). The accordionist was quite good actually. But in this social scenario, my Spanish? Not so much so.
After listening for awhile and everyone catching up, while I tried to catch up with their Spanish, Whitney took me to the best chicken sandwich stand…in the Jardin? San Miguel? Mexico? no…the world! I’d have to agree of course, even though I pulled it off the bread. I’m pretty used to pulling apart sandwiches though. Delicious! And cheap! Its always a little nerve racking meeting strangers, you never know if you’ll have anything in common, or if they’re really just judging your every move, clothing item, and the way that you breath (Guess what? They are. We’re human, duh, and you’re judging every word of this blog that I don’t think anyone’s reading anyways…except okay…my aunt, my boyfriend, my best friend, a couple of old friends…okay, now I’m starting to feel pressured! Yikes!). At any rate, Whitney turned out to be a great person to talk to. We talked about the economy, being a woman traveling alone, politics, our culture of ‘need to buy,’ and why we think Latin America is going to be the new global head honcho…along with or maybe instead of China. Whitney is a vagabond musician currently house-sitting her way around Latin America with great stories that you’ll have to ask her about yourself if you ever meet her.
…Okay fine! One involves her being homeless in Mexico and sleeping on the beach with nothing. That’s right, what silly things are you afraid of losing or doing? Hint: she lived happily ever after.
After lunch, we both parted ways. She was late to a band session and I was early for a trapeze class! As a side note, I notice that how I plan things here in Mexico seems really to work for me. I get a lot done, but there’s never really too much of a rush to get from one thing to another because I haven’t jam packed my schedule, and I don’t feel guilty if I stay home at night to write after a busy day. In New York, I’m always late, always stressed about being late, never feeling like I’ve done anything, and even if I’ve been running all day (or night), I feel guilty that I take any down time or sleep time in my life. Alright, fine, you caught me, I was 15 minutes late to trapeze. But, I wasn’t stressed about it. It was my first time finding the place and at least I got there, is how I looked at it.
Circus School!!
Gravity Works is located in the ‘warehouse’ district uphill of the city of San Miguel. It is located in what looks like living cuartos and mexican style warehouses. You have to follow signs up stairs to walk through people’s balconies, up more stairs to a roof, across the roof, and up a few stairs to another roof, and then up more stairs to another roof.
San Miguel de Allende from the Gravity Works' Roof
It’s great! My first class here is with a young girl and a teenage girl who are already warming up with Cecilia and then with a guy named Jon who comes in a little later than me. Classes are conducted with a mix of levels which is a lot of fun. It was great to see kids learning new skills, to take an aerial class in Spanish and to see Cecilia’s beautiful style and how it differed slightly in set up from the styles that I’ve learned in New York. I even got on the hoop a little bit, which I hate because it makes me sooo dizzy! But I did some partnering with Jon and got to see what it looked like in the ballet style mirrors, which was a nice tool as far as checking out what my form looks like, though admittedly sometimes distracting. I now understand why my coaches are always telling me to breathe. My face turns beat red when I go upside down!
Ana Cecilia and Candy at Gravity Works
After this, I was simply exhausted. I took a new route home and found the Centro Cultural Ignacio Ramirez de Nigromante (which I also think is called Belles Artes).
Belles Artes
There are a bunch of sculptures…I mean there is a show of the feminist work of an artist whose name begins with a V that I swore I’d remember, but now cannot. They were abstract persons in multiple media with only their sexual body parts emphasized and displaced in the attempt to portray our over preocupation with those parts in determining a genders worth. 
After this detour, I was literally dead on my feet. I came home, made tostadas (I’m getting sick of beans and tortillas already) and wrote one crummy page for my young adult novel and slept.
The next morning, George and Susan (who were staying in Casa Crayola next to me) and I got up at 8am, had breakfast and got picked up by our guide, Angelica and her driver, Mario to tour the neighboring town Guanajuato.
George and Susan
Oh my goodness! What a day! Let me just put it out there right now, if you’re looking for a tour guide in San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato, Mexico City or the surrounding areas, this woman knows her stuff! You can email her at angelicatours1@yahoo.com.mx for more info, I can’t seem to get her website to work and link here. Angelica took us from San Miguel to Guanajuato, to Dolores Hidalgo and back to San Miguel telling us the tales of her life, the lives of the indigenous peoples, the stories of the Independence and the Revolution, of the artists in the area and how the local stories, cultures and legends developed.
Where Hidalgo's Head Hung for Leading the Revolution
She is honest, hilarious, kind and really knows her stuff. She is also passionate about getting the facts right, if something is only a story or only her version of a story, she will let you know. Also George and Susan are great! They are this lively couple from Oregon with a daughter about my age who is a musician. Seriously, everyone around me seems to be a musician! George and Susan also have great stories about their life and initiated great conversations about economics, gentrification, classism, and politics.
I don’t even know where to begin with the stories and things that we experienced in Guanajuato really (oh please, it was almost a ten hour day, and you want to know everything? Go there yourself! Read your own Mexican history), so I’ll give you the highlights. We got to learn about the indigenous pyramids that were recently found and are being restored, but are not open yet (boo). We had a very interesting discussion about gentrification in Mexico (particularly in San Miguel) and it was great to hear Angelica’s general take on it, “its good and its bad, but it is what it is and we can’t change it,” along with her more detailed stories of what it means to the Mexican people. It turns out that there is a Starbucks in al centro because the Mexicans (okay, yeah, the wealthy Mexicans) wanted it there, so I’m not feeling guilty anymore. Ha!
We stopped at a candy shop called La Catrina, which is named after one of Jose Guadalupe Posada’s calveras that became very popular in Mexico as an icon after many artists, including Diego Rivera, depicted the image in multiple forms. The image is of an elegant skeleton woman, dressed in ornate attire from the late nineteenth century. The image is a social commentary that no matter how much wealth you have, we are all equalized in death.
La Catrina says Smoking is Bad
I bought myself a La Catrina in a beautiful purple dress to remember this important message as my life transitions once again and the world and the economy around us transitions as well.
Next stop was lunch at a Mexican restaurant that the international students frequent (and so yes, that same photo of Che Guevara is hanging right next to a paper Metropolitan Museum bag from new york…and yes, i totally loved this) and then a coffee at a stand that was roasting its own beans right outside. It smelled magnificent. I bought a small bag of coffee for my casita and home. Actually, I’m going to go and smell it right now (jealous?).
Coffee Beans Roasting
Now, if I get some Mexican chocolate, I can have the best mocha in the world in the comfort of my own home.
So, the only lesson that I’ll teach you from Mexican history (because I think its pretty cool) is that the Mexican Independence started in San Miguel de Allende. And in Guanajuato, I got to see the bell that was rung in what is called the ‘cry of freedom,’ and the building where the four founding members of the movements heads hung from each corner as a warning for ten years until their followers succeeded and could remove them.
Cry of Freedom Bell
After this, we ventured to the mummy museum. That’s right there are mummies in Guanajuato. But not the kind of mummies that come from Eqypt. No, these are bodies that were dug up from the cemetery by the government because the family couldn’t pay the rent on the grave and were found to be mummified because of the minerals in the water they drink, the dryness in the air, who knows? So there are mummies from the late nineteenth century all the way to now. Its eerie because many even have hair in their unmentionable places…some of them even have their unmentionable places, actually. Like our guides said, you should go once, but once you’ve seen it, you’ve seen it. But its interesting that it supposedly draws the most tourists from outside and from within Mexico.
Mummy and Baby with Mummy Reflection
We also went to a market where supposedly Perfidio Diaz brought the ceiling from a train station in France to Mexico to use to make the marketplace.
The Train Station Market
And there is a rumor (that Angelica firmly believes to be just rumor) that the little tower on top was made by Eiffel.
The Market in Guanajuata
This was a long day, finished with tequila ice cream and the return to my casita last night to write a full chapter after allowing myself to zone out for exactly one hour with television accompanied by either gun shots or repetitive car backfiring coming from outside in the street (I said no thievery or knifings, not no gunfire).
Today, I slept in again and then ventured out for breakfast at one of the vegetarian friendly places I’ve found here. Recommended by both Marti, my host at Casa Crayola, and George and Susan, I walked there with my shopping bag to buy your souvenirs and hopefully some fresh vegetales, which I’m starting to feel are lacking in my beans, bacon, egg and tortilla diet. I did have an excellent (and giant) breakfast of juevos rancheros (my favorite) and a mixed green salad, and I did buy a few souvenirs and some nice tequila for cheap, but I couldn’t find the market and carrying around a bottle of tequila and souvenirs is exhausting, so I rested at Starbucks again and re-focused my energy (this time guilt free-ish). Then I took the ten minute walk back to my casita and got ready for another trapeze class.
Ana Cecilia Corona, Why Do You Do What You Do?
It is likely that this was my last class at Gravity Works and it saddens me a little. Seriously, even if you’ve never tried it, you should visit this place if you’re here. Its very affordable, great fun and a great workout! This class for me was more challenging and I was tired, so harder for me, which was great. I did jam my toe a little unfortunately, but it didn’t stop me and afterwards I got to talk a lot to Cecilia, mixing in and out of Spanish. She is a person with a wonderful energy and is very patient, kind and talented. I hope that our paths will cross again, even if I can’t make it to a class tomorrow, which is likely. I have so much to do still while I’m here and tomorrow’s sort of it because I’m headed to the hot springs for a day of relaxation with Whitney and her friends on Friday and leave Saturday. Aw, dios mio! Muy triste, no?
My last adventure today was having dinner at the little restaurant across the street from my casita. I was starving after trapeze and they grill their meat outside on a big grill. Well, the smell was too much for me, and I couldn’t handle tostadas with beans and cheese after that, so I got five little mini pork (pastor?) tacos and conversed a little with Martin, who is 18 and hoping to grow up and marry a gringa. I told him that we were all stubborn, too independent and used to getting our own way and that he might not like it so much after all. I think that he told me women in the whole world were like that, but my selective ‘I don’t understand Spanish’ just happened to kick in right then…conveniently…
Read Full Post »
Erinina's Blog 
