Beautiful eyes and flies. Grocery shopping in Mexico!

In the last entry I shared about the beauty and the uniqueness of my 'commute' to school. I expressed that the main reason I wanted to share that was to show you my Mexico. There are so many stereotypes, images, sayings and news stories on CNN about Mexico and so many of them are twisted and warped. I think I'm going to take a few more blog posts to give you a pure and unadulterated taste of Mexico. Today's topic? Going to the grocery store!

When I lived in New Jersey, I would often stop at Wal Mart or the local grocery on the way home from school for anything I might need for dinner or in my classroom that week. It would be part of a longer trip to another destination and quite often not really ever thought of as a monumental event. Not so in Mexico! A large shopping excursion here means planning for at least an hour or two spent traveling back and forth on foot and shopping. The most popular destination for a shopping excursion is the local supermarket, Soriana. It is about a mile and a little more up the main road Lopez Mateos. The neighborhood I live in is beautiful, with cobblestone streets, fountains in the gloriettas and beautiful homes. It is peaceful, quiet and relatively tranquil. We walk through our neighborhood on the way to Sorianna, but then about half way turn on to Lopez. It is a huge transistion, from quiet and shady to hot, dusty, loud, dirty and sometimes surprising!

Lopez is a two lane highway, with 'salida' roads on either side which you can exit easily off of into neighborhoods or businesses. There is a small sidewalk along this salida, often broken, or covered in dirty liquid, or equipped with waving electric wires or uncovered manholes. We walk up this sidewalk as cars, busses and pickup trucks with Mexicans sitting in the back (Yup! That stereotype is totally, totally true) whiz by. As we walk, we are often greeted with kissing noises, whistles or strings of incoherent references to our beauty and white skin. This is something I have gotten very used to, so much so that I was shocked and alarmed when it didn't happen while I was in the States! I have never felt threatened by these comments and take it as part of me being different in a different culture. I am thankful for the chance to be the minority in another country, and have always felt embraced by Mexico rather than repelled. I also am fully aware that this is not normal for most minorities in the United States or other countries.

On our walk, we must cross another major road at a glorietta, a large circle in the middle of the road, often where two roads intersect. There are traffic lights at this glorietta but they are often ignored for the sake of crossing the street with the flow of traffic. As pedestrians trying to navigate this, we have coined the phrase 'Follow the Mexicans'. We noticed that natives would cross the street at times that seemed incomprehensible, but would make it safety across without any near misses. So when in doubt, we simply follow the Mexican pedestrians' lead!

Directly across this street is our destination, Sorianna. It is a supermarket that compares in size the supermarkets in the United States, but after the comparison to size little else is the same. As you enter the door, you are greeted with roasting chickens on a open rotisserie. To the left are hot meals sold by the kilo, such as enchiladas rojas, tacos and arroz, and others. Even though I am a HUGE fan of Mexican food, this food has never tempted me! The openness to germs, insects and the lack of refrigeration has repelled me. Little is kept in a refrigerator here that I am used to seeing kept cold. Eggs are left out in the open and if you buy eggs in a corner mercado you are given them in a plastic bag! I am learning to recognize that the need to refrigerate is a very North American thing, and that most other countries agree with Mexico's habits. Even so, I am still amazed!

If you continue to the left you find a bakery of delicious pan dulce, donuts, muffins and pastels. This as well is completely out in the open, without plastic wrap or covers of any kind. If you want to buy any of these tempting treats you simply grab a well worn metal dish and a pair of tongs and select what you want. Within the bakery section is the dairy section, with one of my weekly purchases, boxed milk. As a dairy purist, I was appalled to think about buying milk from a box when I first arrived. Growing up near Lancaster, with fresh milk and ice cream being of prime importance, the idea of keeping milk on a shelf until you needed it was mind boggling. Since moving here I have adapted to the idea of keeping this staple handy and consuming milk that has been pasteurized and pressurized. It is amazingly convenient to keep a few boxes handy and stick one in the fridge when you need it. Though nothing in Mexico will ever replace the taste of fresh milk or Turkey Hill ice cream!

Fruits and veggies are always in abundance in Mexico, but not the ones you are used to finding. Mangos, tuna (a fruit, not a fish!), avocados, naranja, and limon are fresh and local. The apples, grapes, pears, packaged spinach, strawberries, blueberries that I was used to buying are imported and often much more expensive. Any of this produce needs to be soaked in a solution of water and iodine before you can eat it. Making a salad is an event!

Things that you would usually find in abundance in the United States are few and far between. CoffeeMate liquid creamer? I've seen it now for a few weeks...but only Hazelnut, in small bottles, that cost about 6 U.S. dollars and that all have the looming expiration date of October 12th. Swiss Miss hot chocolate? Nope. Tea bags? Imported and costly. Shaving cream? One brand, that costs between 7 and 10 U.S. dollars. Sunscreen? You're joking. Tampons? Nope. But cooking oil? There is an ENTIRE supermarket aisle devoted to cooking oil. Rice? Again, an entire aisle.

When you're ready to pay, you are greeted by a friendly checker and bagger as is the norm in the States. The only difference is that this bagger is expecting a tip from you, and usually you hand him your large brightly colored, plaid, mesh, plastic handled shopping bags to fill instead of the cheap plastic variety offered by the store. Because he is working for the tip, he will often compliment you on your purchases, your American accent or your eyes. My favorite bagger at Soriana is an older gentleman who told me upon meeting him that I ' tenía los ojos más bellos que jamás haya visto' (had the most gorgeous eyes he's ever seen). Every time I've been in his lane since then, he's put his hand over his heart and put his fingers to his lips like he's saluting a beautiful piece of artwork. I must say, this is something quite easy to get used to!

As we leave the store laden with purchases, it often takes a few adjustments to get all the groceries evenly piled in bags and on our arms. I'm convinced that I have affected my back and shoulders so much with carrying these things that I will be a hunchback when I grow older. The fact that I have to carry all of my purchases home really makes me think twice or even three times about what I'm buying. I have cut soda out of my life, purely because it's so heavy to carry!

The next time you whip into Wal Mart, or take a jaunt to ShopRite, enjoy the privilege you have of shopping where you do and how you do. I know I will!

Commuters, Unite!

No matter where you live or what your job is, one common thread is uniting us all is the daily commute to and from work. When living in New Jersey, my commute would start at 5:45 a.m. and would often be accompanied by as extra large styrofoam cup of Dunkin Donuts hazelnut coffee, cream and sugar. It included driving above 60 miles per hour, several lane changes and stop lights. The average morning trip would take about a half an hour by car and I often felt tired before I even got out of the car.

I am still working, still teaching...but in a different environment all together. I do still have a commute to work, but I make that trip on foot instead of a car. Instead of a half hour, my trip totals about five minutes door to door. Instead of stoplights and lane changes, I navigate slippery sidewalks and towering topes (speed bumps made of bricks). Instead of feeling tired, I often feel invigorated and ready for the day after my morning walk to school. One of the few similarities is that I am still accompanied by a cup of coffee, but alas, not Dunkin Donuts!

Let me take you on my commute, from the door of my room at the Casa Grande to the door of my classroom at Lincoln School. For those of you far away, this will help you picture a little piece of my day, of my

Mexico.

Most days I leave my bedroom weighed down by my teacher tote about 7:15 a.m. (a vast difference

compared to my New Jersey days). I make sure the curtains and windows are open so that when I return my room is not an oven and on the way out the door I stop to pour myself the mug of coffee previously mentioned. I will often refill my water bottle with purified water

before I head to school as well, as I used half of it to brush my teeth. The water here is perfectly fine to shower in or wash dishes but a little sketchy for teeth brushing or for drinking directly from the tap.

On the way out the door I am greeted by a beautiful bird of paradise bush, but most mornings I can't see it because it's dark outside! By the

time school starts at 8:00 the sun is rising above the mountains outside of Guadalajara, but it's still dark on my way to school. I walk down a long brick pathway to our front gate. Most homes in our neighborhood of Las Fuentes (The Fountains) have wrought iron gates or concrete walls surrounding their yards. Mexico is quite different in comparison to the United States, where front yards are in full view of all who drive by. Many things are gated, walled or fenced in here. There have been many times that I catch glimpses of perfectly manicured, lush and plush yards and gardens when gates are open, but these are just momentary glimpses. The idea of 'keeping up with the Jones' has no real resonance here.

My first step outside of our gate is quite different than that of our pathway. The sidewalks here are notoriously slippery, sketchy and quite dangerous. A friend at church told me that she can spot a Mexican anywhere...they arethe people walking with their eyes on the ground to make sure they don't fall! On my way to school there is a particularly dangerous spot where tree roots have ripped the sidewalk to shreds and falls are almost bound to happen. I will often save my dressy shoes for once I arrive at school for this very reason, or more honestly, just don't wear them at all. The terrain is unforgiving!

Let's imagine that the morning you're walking with me, it rained the night before. And when I say rain, I mean torrential downpour! It's currently the rainy season here in Mexico, and that means at least once a day (or quite often during the night) there is a HUGE thunder, lightning and rain storm that soaks the ground and floods the cobblestone streets in Las Fuentes. My morning commute usually includes a few wet steps as I navigate the topes across the main street in our neighborhood. The topes are often the only dry part of the street if it is still flooded, which is quite amazing considering they are about two to three inches above the level of the street. It's kind of cool to watch cars almost float through the streets and then emerge when they drive over the topes. There have also been many cars that never do emerge! I as thinking seriously of bringing Nigel, my MINI Cooper down to Mexico for my second year, but when I saw a similar model car get lodged on top of a tope after a rainstorm I forgot about that idea!

There is a tequila factory headquarters across the street from our school and I will often see the guards

for the headquarters standing on our side of the street discussing important matters with other guards.

They will always receive a slight smile and a quiet 'Buen dia' from me. These are the guys that you want on

your side if something goes down! They are each armed with large guns with a round of ammunition around

their waist. I know what you're thinking...and I thought the same thing when I first got here.

But now that I'm used to seeing guys with huge guns on a daily basis, they make me feel safer than

more in danger. Can anyone say cultural adaptation?

Speaking of culture, Lincoln School fits right in with Mexican culture. The

school has a large, white gate surrounding it and facing the sidewalk. To enter

the school during the day, you must talk to the gatekeeper and then be buzzed

in and given a pass. Students also enter through this front gate in the morning.

They are greeted by the head of school and the disciplinarian. He checks to see

that students are following dress code procedures and if they are not, students are sent directly home

with their parents. He also gives them a squirt of hand sanitizer as they walk in. This is VERY Mexican

(since the swine flu scare) and gigantic bottles of hand gel can be found everywhere,

from restuarants to the cinema. My kids are addicted to the stuff, and if I let them, would take showers in it.

I can not enter through this gate, and walk a bit further down the sidewalk to the Teacher's Entrance,

a gate that I have the key for and is where I can make quick getaways to Starbucks without anyone seeing

me as well. After I enter the Teacher Gate, I walk across the patio (or as us North Americans would say,

the basketball court) to the main office. I scan my finger to start my day and then it's back across the patio

to my classroom, 5A2. I unlock padlock on the door and often open my classroom door to find a few

cockroaches have come to visit me during the night. It's a great way to start the day!

What's your commute like?

Since when does shopping mean black and blue bruises?

This week is the Bicentennial celebration of Mexico's independence and I have been enjoying a five day holiday weekend. It has been lovely to have time to do some of the things that I've been putting off since coming to Mexico, as well as simply resting! One of those things was going to Tonala, a town about 40 minutes east of Guadalajara by bus. I have heard tales of shopping glory from others; stories of wonder that included handmade pottery for pennies, pewter for paltry amounts and jewelry to make others jealous. For me, Tonala was my own Mexican Mecca.

On Thursdays and Sundays Tonala becomes a tianguis, a vast open air market, with gorgeous, authentic Mexican pottery and knock-off Ray-Ban sunglasses being sold directly next to each other on makeshift tables. The salespeople at this market sit on low stools under tarps

strung for shade. They call to you as youwalk by and are ready to pounce if you happen to stop for a second look or touch any of their wares. Your name is 'jovenes' (young one) no matter how old you are. You might be covered in sweat, dust and have mascara running down your face, but they will tell you the necklace you're trying on makes you look 'muy bonita, muy bonita'. Many of them look as if they have sat in that very corner o

f the market their entire lives, the sun and wind etching their faces. Most have a large styrofoam cup filled with one of the augas that are sold throughout the market, including horchata, lim

on or jamaica. These cold and often intensely sweet drinks are a cheap and refreshing link to sanity in the hot and hazy tianguis world.

As a shopper, there is little time for contemplation. As you stop to admire a set of pottery, hoards of adults, children and other sales people with carts laden down with merchandise are continuing to move down the small corridor between the stalls. The first and most important question you as a shopper must ask is, ¿Cuánto cuesta esto? (How much does this cost?). There are no price tags, no price scanners and certainly no end of the season sales. There are many repeats in this open air market... yo

u will see similar merchandise up and down the street. Your job as a sh

opper is to find the best quality example and get the best price. My biggest draw to Tonala was the ability to buy beautiful Mexican things at normal Mexican prices...many of the other tianguis I have been to cater to 'tourists' and will charge you an 'Americana' price. White skin = mucho dinero. While in Tonala, when I would ask the price for something, my first reaction was to declare, ¿La verdad? (Really? The truth?). I couldn't believe the amazing prices I paid for beautiful things!

There was a price to pay for my bargain hunting. I arrived home with a backpack and three other bags full. I also came home more thirsty, weary and bone tired than I've been in awhile. While I was taking a shower I realized that I have some big, bad black and blue bruises up and down my legs from battling the crowds. For the rest of the day I dealt with sore legs and a spinning head. But I was victorious! I have beautiful pottery and Christmas presents for my familia...and spent about $75 U.S. dollars. La verdad!

There's a first time for everything. Is there a second?

While I realize that it's been about a year since I wrote my last post, I've been inspired to start writing again. If you know me at all, or keep in touch with me you'll realize that this is my currently my second year in Mexico teaching fifth grade. I more than survived my first year, and felt directly called by God to return for a second school year. Last year was an incredible year of change for me, as I was living and teaching in a new country.

Last year was a year of firsts...first airplane trip alone, first year not just visiting another country but living there, first year teaching at another school other than King's, first year teaching at a bilingual school, first year living in a country where English is not the native tongue. I experienced many things for the first time last year as well...first live mariachi band, first taco other than from Taco Bell (my life is forever changed), first fresh mango, first time swimming in the Pacific Ocean, first time choreographing a dance number for my class to perform in front of the entire school, first time putting on a sleepover for the girls in my class, first time going to a water park with fifth graders (not to mention first time allowing my students see me in a bathing suit).

Because of these various 'first time' experiences, I have changed incredibly. Mexican culture has taken it's toll on me, and I'm different for life! Instead of being five or ten minutes early for appointments or lunch with friends, I'm five, ten, fifteen or twenty minutes late! Instead of staying at school until 7 or 8 in the evening, I leave at 3:30 everyday. I leave with a small pile of grading to do and some planning in a small tote bag instead of using the rolling box with wheels to drag as many teacher's manuals as I can home for the evening. I change my bulletin boards three times a year. Honestly. I eat lunch at 11, comida at 4 and cena at 8. While I was home I at McDonald's only once, and after the meal I felt like I was going to die. I can't eat cucumbers without lime and chili. No tortilla in the U.S. will ever, EVER compare to fresh in Mexico. I won't ever turn on a tap of clean water in the U.S. without being grateful. I've learned how to ignore whistles, catcalls and various English words thrown out by Mexican men standing on the street because I'm white. I've learned what it feels like to stick out like a sore thumb, to be stared at by everyone around you, and how not to get upset by it. I can survive without watching TV for months at a time, shopping for new clothes for almost a year at a time and driving a car for the same amount of time. Things that were central to my life are now trivial, things that were trivial are now what my life centers on.

This past year of firsts has been indeed life changing. What about the second year?

Time will only tell.