How do I love you? Let me count the ways.

In honor of Valentine's Day and all things amor, I thought I would share with you a list of things that I love about Mexico...

1. I'm sitting outside, in flip flops enjoying a gentle breeze and sun in JANUARY. New Jersey right now? Covered in snow.

2. Anything (fashion wise), turquoise nails, huge hair clips, multicolored cropped hair...that I think is too much, over the top or tacky is always met with 'Que guapa!' by my Mexican friends.

3. The close to the Equator sun.

4. People in my neighborhood look me in the eye, smile and greet me when I walk by.

5. One word...TACOS.

6. Family is super important. When I ask my 6th graders about weekend plans, they always seem to include family time. And my kids aren't embarrassed by this! (One drawback in this family-centric country, for me? My own family isn't here.)

7. Greetings include a side kiss. When you enter a room, Mexican culture says you kiss/greet all present. Ditto when you leave a room. The U.S. 'Okay, bye!' said from the door? The definition of rude.

8. Men carry their lady's bag for them. Even if it's a Hello Kitty backpack.

9. Boys are raised to be gentlemen. They let you go first, hold the door for you, carry heavy stuff for you, and are more than willing to help you.

10. Girls are raised to look for boys who are gentlemen. And accept the help offered them.

11. Mexican food is simple, with lots of fresh ingredients, but almost impossible to replicate.

12. People really do ride in the back of pickup trucks!

13. I have a market down the street that sells everything from fruit, vegetables, yogurt, cheese, chickens, flowers, hot meals, fruit smoothies (liquados) to bras and high heels.

14. Sitting in the glorietta (city or neighborhood center) and eating a paleta (ice pop) is perfectly normal evening entertainment. Add tacos? A night on the town!

15. Ice cream = year round treat.

16. You can visit the doctor for $3.00. No appointment needed. Prescriptions filled immediately afterwards, usually for less than $20.00.

17. Flip flops = year round shoe choice.

18. The student/teacher relationship is much more relaxed than in the U.S. I often forget I'm talking to students and feel like I'm with friends. Who I can give detentions to.

19. Comida. The 3 o'clock meal that is perfect for enjoying at a cafe with a friend after work. It also beats waiting until seven to eat dinner, like I used to.

20. Fruit stands that are on the corner and offer plastic containers of fresh watermelon, pina, cucumber, melon, jicama...all available with a squirt of limon, a sprinkle of chile and always under a $1.

21. Taxis are cheap, and usually easy to get. The only tradeoff is answering the taxista's questions about your nationality, job and relationship status.

22. ADORABLE children. Dora the Explorer does exist, and goes to Lincoln School!

23. Lush gardens, trees, flowers, all year.

24. Coke has real cane sugar. There is nothing like it.

25. Pan dulce. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

26. Everything is slower, or on 'Mexican time'. No one arrives to anything early, let alone on time. I'm perpetually 15 minutes late after three years of Mexican time.

27. Spicy food! Most things have chile added in, including Cheetos, Dorritos, lollipops, random candy, anything with mango, sandwiches, salads. I'm converted!

28. Cowboy boots.

29. Spanish. I have a love/hate relationship most days, but I am blown away by how much I can understand and interact with. I still think it's one of the most lovely languages out there.

30. Valentine's Day isn't a day of mushy love stuff here. It's more a dia de amistad (day of friendship), which is much better than singleness awareness day.

Knit Wits.

What do you get when you combine twenty knitting needles, ten skeins of yarn, twenty four chocolate cupcakes with Nutella buttercream frosting, two bags of chips, one bottle of Valentina, two pitchers of iced tea, ten middle schoolers and one teacher?

My house yesterday afternoon!

My students have known that I knit since last year. I've brought knitting on the bus on a field trip, would whip it out during chapel or while students are sharing book reports. Because they have been exposed to it so often, a few of my girls asked if I could teach them how to knit. Ready for any excuse to have people over and bake, I offered to have a few of them to my house for tea and knitting. In my mind's eye, I imagined three or four girls sitting around my table with cups of tea and cupcakes. Little did I know what was in store!

I've been knitting since eight grade and can knit with my eyes closed (seriously!). I knit during movies, in the dark, and while holding a lengthy, involved conversations. I taught myself how to knit after watching my Grandma Beaver during summer vacations at her house, and have no idea how to follow a pattern. I will see something I want to make, feel it and look at it for a few minutes, and then go home and make it. When these girls asked me to teach them, I was worrisome that I wouldn't be able to explain something that I had been doing for fourteen years without thinking.

When I offered the afternoon to the class, I got an overwhelming response. As I’ve already spoken about on this blog, my house is pretty teeny tiny. We have a large kitchen table that seat eight and juuuuuuust fits in our front room. Because of the space limitations I said that the first ten people to email me would be on the list. I got home from school that day and had more than ten emails already! Surprisingly, I had quite a few boys who were interested too. In the end I had three boys and seven girls descend on the Casa (not so) Calma yesterday.

If I thought teaching was hard, teaching Science was harder, and teaching Science to middle schoolers was excruciating…teaching middle schoolers how to knit? Like the pains of childbirth! The hardest part for me was that I couldn’t easily walk around the table to assist peeps that needed it because our house was too small! My hands hurt all evening afterwards, because I was knitting for about two hours straight.

It was all worth it though. One sweet girl was so excited that I saw her continuing to knit as she was walking to her car. I was commissioned to make a knit tie for one incredibly fashion forward dude. I could share something I love to do with people I love. Best part? I was told, ‘You’re the best teacher ever!’

Will you be MIME?

I have received some of the best, direct, and often hard to answer questions from students. Some of the best have been posed outside of the classroom, and have to do with my personal life. Samples include and are not limited to:

- Why do you think you're still not married?

- What is the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you?

- Do you think everyone is supposed to have a best friend?

- What do white girls want to be tan and Mexicans want to be white?

- What was the weirdest thing that has ever happened to you in Mexico?

The last question was asked on a bus ride by my student Santiago, and it took me a moment to think of the perfect answer. He will often ask questions that have a story involved (mostly when he's trying to distract me from a lesson about scientific notation), and at that moment I couldn't retrieve one specific shining moment of weirdness.

This weekend? Santi's question was answered once and for all!

It all started in Guanajuato, a tranquil, picturesque and culture filled city that a group of us decided to descend upon this past weekend. The town is filled with brightly painted homes, balconies, squares with fountains and cafes, theaters, bakeries and romantic restaurants. This is my second time traveling there and I fall deeper in love with the place the longer I spend there. I traveled there this time with nine others, including fellow teachers and friends. We spent our days enjoying the varied offerings of Guanajuato and would often meet up for dinner together in the evening. Saturday night we decided to meet on the steps of the Teatro in the center of the town before venturing off to dinner. One unique and

charming part of Guanajuato is the impromptu performances that often happen on the steps of the teatro or the cathedral next to it.

This evening, while we waited, a mime entertained the growing audience with funny antics like pretending to ring the cathedral bells with his own rope as well as miming that he was walking the stray dog that pranced past the crowd. While we were sitting in the crowd he started pulling people up to be a part of the show. After choosing two young girls and parading them in front of the audience to be applauded, he started scanning the audience once more. For those of you who know me, I cannot stand mimes. They are funny from afar, but hands down frightening up close. As he started to walk closer to the area of the steps where we were sitting, I purposely started looking for something in my purse. When I looked up to see where he had gone and who he had chosen, I looked up into the expectant eyes of my worst nightmare. He put out his hand and I shook my head and did the classic Mexican finger shake signaling 'No way, Jose!'. He appealed to the audience and once again offered his hand. With the encouragement of the nine around me, I was lead to the front. For perhaps ten minutes I was lead through silly, harmless hijinks including pretending to ride a motorcycle and ballroom dancing. Then, when I was convinced we would be dismissed off the 'stage', the weirdest part of all occurred.

The two guys who the mime had called up were asked to turn around, so that their backs were towards us. The two girls who standing up with me (who were younger than I was by far) and I were then motioned to pretend that we were undressing. The motions the mine gave were quite suggestive and embarrassing. When he motioned to me, I once again did the 'No' finger shake. I had the encouragement of those sitting on the steps behind me who screamed, 'Don't do it Kelli!'. Eventually I felt so strongly that I was about to turn around and sit down, even though it would mean doing so in front of a huge group of people. At that moment, it started to rain and the mime put his hat out on the ground for any tips he might gain. I realized that I had gained my weirdest moment in Mexico, and quite possibly ever!

Little House in the Big Woods (of Las Fuentes?)

Our house is small. Like, itsy bitsy, teensy weeny, yellow polka dot bikini small. There is plenty of room for Allyson and I, but little else. We share a bedroom, have a large-ish room in the middle of the house for our gorgeous, handmade, wooden, eight person kitchen table. Our kitchen is spacious...if one person is cooking it. Despite our mini me habitation, a dream of mine was granted on Monday night.

After graduating from college, starting a job, buying a car...I had visions of 'my place' where I could invite people over; have dinners, parties, movie nights. Also a place that people just stopped by on their way somewhere, because they knew where I lived and knew that my home would be welcoming. Since moving into the 'Casa Calma' (the name for our casita, since our street is La Calma), all of that has come true. The pinnacle of this dream though, came true on Monday. A group of Mexicans, teachers from Lincoln and various others gather on Monday nights for a dinner made by rotating chefs and in various locations. I have always wanted to host and cook for one of these events in my own home, which has been impossible until this year. This Monday, our house held upwards of 15 people and I was as happy as a clam in my mini kitchen stirring soup, flipping quesadillas and hearing the chatter of guests. Later that night we enjoyed the cool of the Guadalajara evening to sit outside and worship our Creator under the stars.

Have you ever read the Little House series by Laura Ingals Wilder? I read all of them by third grade, and loved them so much that I started calling my mom and dad, Ma and Pa! My favorite is Little House in the Big Woods and my favorite scene is when the whole family is together for Christmas. There isn't enough room to sit down, people sleep on the floor and in the barn, but good food is to be had. Laughter is heard long into the night. Pa plays his fiddle, everyone sings. Family, whether blood or found is cherished.

Togetherness.

Community.

Hospitality.

This is what I have longed for, and have finally found.

New year, new rules, new teacher.

It's humbling and amazing to think that three years ago, I was just starting to adapt to this country that I now consider home. The language, people, expectations, food and way of life was brand new and I soaked it up like a culturally depraved sponge. Mexico has been my window to the rest of the world, even if it's a window that's just one country below my own. Even so, it has become to feel familiar. The things that once felt like blazing a new trail have become second nature. The areas where I was once holding on to God's promises like a vice grip were now not so threatening. Little did I know, God was preparing new challenges in my new country.

For those of you that don't know, this year I have taken a new job at Lincoln. I'm currently the Mentor Teacher, helping teachers who are not only new to Mexico, but new to the profession of teaching. After teaching fifth grade for five years, this sixth year of teaching it only felt fitting to move on to sixth grade! God gave me the opportunity to move up to 6th grade with my class from last year and teach Science (a subject I am fascinated by and thrilled to teach again after two years). As I prepared my syllabus for this year (something I never thought I would have to do), I was concerned that my students would feel ultra comfortable with me as their teacher again. I had nightmares of stampedes in my classroom or students laughing when I tried to discipline them. So, I created the tag line 'New year, new rules, new teacher'. As I introduced my rules on the first day, I reminded my now taller and stronger students that I was indeed a new teacher. I had never taught 6th grade before, and they had never met the 'new me'! I then proceeded to shake their hands and introduce myself, which brought giggles but also squinting eyes, trying to see if I had altered physically in any way and was actually a new person. Although I had fears that teaching in Middle School would be intimidating, impossible, and that failure would be inevitable, teaching has proved to be the bright spot in my day.

The most stretching new part of my life recently has been my new role as Mentor Teacher. I have loved the chance to come along side new teachers, give them suggestions, direction and guidance as they set up their classrooms, plan their first weeks of school, observe their classes and mold them as teachers. It has been fantastic, fulfilling, but DRAINING! There were days during the Orientation Week that I would wake up and feel tired to the marrow in my bones. I felt as if I were always on, needing to answer questions, be a support, be upbeat. For me as a naturally introverted person, it was a struggle at times to keep the up the attitude of graciousness. Once again, God was trying to teach me that it is HE that gives me strength, and not myself. I had become very comfortable teaching fifth grade, loving my students and being loved back. I gave very little effort and had boundless results, with both parents and students supporting me. Now? All of that has been taken away. I'm at the mercy of people who are struggling themselves to feel supported. I try my hardest to work with administration and fellow teachers to make things easier for these new recruits, and I never feel as if my job is finished. This has proved to be the hardest job that I have ever undertaken, and it has put my trust in God to the test.

New year? Totally.

New rules? Obviously.

New teacher? Nope. The Master Teacher has always been right beside me. It's just time that I started talking to Him again.

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?