We've Got Pictures

Due to popular demand (Barney) today's blog will have lots of pictures. I don't know many people yet so they'll all be scenery shots.

Some technical considerations:
• They're formatted for Firefox, so if you're using Internet Explorer, I don't know how it will look.
• You can click on each picture to see it larger.
• Blogspot doesn't always show the pictures from server bp1 so if this page looks like it has pictures missing then reload in a few minutes.


The alley behind my apartment:

In front of my apartment:




The jardin downtown:



The park where I go to study Spanish:




Some local festivities:





A local museum, and a Mexican car wash:



That's all for now!

Serious Times, broken Spanish

Small town Mexico is an interesting place from which to watch world events. Everything seems so safely distant. I'm sure there are no words here for "terrorism" or "politically correct" or "financial collapse". There are none of the weekly shootings here that have become the norm in Vancouver and Toronto. Airplanes don't even fly overhead. (One green and white helicopter did appear the other day but no one seemed to notice.)

I wonder how many of us are curious about the financial collapse of the US? Bond insurers are being downgraded left and right and major banks won't be far behind. Trillions of vaporous dollars in rickety CDOs and their related derivatives are coming home to roost and are infecting their entire financial system. The bank reserves in the US are composed entirely of borrowed money. How much farther is all this going to go? As the US dollar continues its decline and its government takes the path of Brazil during their currency devaluation, how soon will it be before we all switch to a common currency such as the Amero, and how fair will the exchange rate be? Apparently Germans with their strong Deutschemark only got the equivalent of 50 cents on the dollar when they switched to the Euro. Did prices and taxes change equally? It seems unlikely. At the same time financial markets don't make any sense. Why would gold and oil fall when rates have been cut thus weakening the US dollar? Maybe I should be out digging for gold in the picturesque Sierra Madres instead of watching the markets.

I also wonder what it would be like to explain the concept of "politically correct" to a local Mexican. "It's like, you're supposed to think a certain way." "Like an engineer or a doctor who needs to get a job done?" "No you're supposed to watch TV and read the newspapers and hear what other people say and think like they do." "Oh you mean be sensitive to the family elders of your friends and respect their views?" Cultural differences. I suppose we do have our own version of politically correct here in a way, as you don't normally see gringos walking down the street with Mexicans, even though Mexicans are some of the friendliest people I've ever met and are more than eager to chat in broken English.

But for the time being I'm simply doing my best to learn some Spanish. For a serious dyslexic, that's no easy task!

More Silliness

We Interrupt this Blog for a Note to my Matrix Energetics friends:

A lot of people reading this blog are friends from Matrix Energetics practice groups. These people are very serious and would not appreciate all the fun stuff in this blog*. So I decided to put in something serious for my Matrix friends. If you don't know what Matrix Energetics is, or if you have an aversion to shamanic healing or energy healing, then feel free to skip to the next section. Or you could simply picture a big circus bear with a Shriner's hat driving a tiny car around in circles while you read this part.

A number of people have been coming down with a cold that has an unusual dry hacking cough. This cough has a worrisome energy and I wonder if it might be related to something toxic in the environment like chem trails. (Unfortunately there were chem trails spread across the western sky on my second day here.) Luckily this cough and cold can be easily treated with frequencies. Here's how it works.

Every virus and bacteria has a specific frequency that turns it on and one that turns it off. Rife discovered this decades ago when he built the Rife machine to successfully treat a number of different diseases with different frequencies. In ME we're used to working with the 21 frequencies. But we can work with other frequencies too. So to treat the above cold you can simply realize that the appropriate frequencies to turn off the cold are known in the divine matrix, and you can call in these frequencies for the person as you are treating.

I think of them as inverted frequencies, since they are the opposite of the frequencies that turned the cold on in the first place. So I simply call in the appropriate inverted frequencies to turn the cold off. This has been helpful for at least two people I worked with and it also, together with disinfectant drops, helped cure me of diarrhea within hours, two days after I saw the chem trails.

Hope this helps if your friends or family show these symptoms. Now back to the regularly scheduled blog.

___________________
*Actually I'm just messing with you. Matrix people are some of the most fun and interesting people you could meet.




***** Silly Blog Starts here *****

OK, I know you've been checking my blog eagerly to see if I've put something new up, so today's your lucky day. And for those of you who read my posts over and over again because they're so interesting, I keep periodically adding new pictures to the old posts and fixing the factual errors, such as the spelling of "leche". Have fun.

Today I don't feel much like writing the usual blog so I'll do what teachers do when they don't feel like teaching: give a quiz.


Web Quiz #1

1. What is the similarity between each of the following:
a) a mountain goat and a sidewalk
b) a bus and a Catholic cross
Answers:

a) The Mexican word for sidewalk is a variation of the words "mountain goat path". This is because Mexican sidewalks are modeled after the narrow paths on the edges of cliffs that mountain goats use, as if they were added as an afterthought after cars were invented. You'll notice this in the picture at the side. You'll also notice that the picture shows a very steep hill. I climb this hill to get home every day and by the time I get to my door I'm huffing and puffing so much that, well, you can picture the rest. Jim said this is because of the thin mountain air and I thought he was simply being generous to this out-of-shape newcomer until I boiled a pot of green beans and found that they took four times longer to cook than usual. It's as if the water was boiling at a lower temperature than at sea level. Maybe this is why the beans took so long to cook. Isn't science wonderful? Let's all make a graph now.


b) Today when I got on the bus the only seat available was one at the back beside a slightly younger Mexican woman. She made the sign of the Catholic cross on herself when I sat down beside her. I was a little upset by this for a minute, thinking she was doing this to protect herself from me. Then I realized that if she did want to protect herself from me she would be holding her fingers in my face in the shape of a cross, like they do in the movies to ward off Dracula. I also remembered that I was wearing my good shirt (it being laundry day and all) so I decided that it must have been that she was thanking God for letting such a beautiful man sit beside her. I also noticed that she crossed herself a second time. This may have been to ward off temptation.

Another connection between these two words is that almost every bus here has a Catholic cross at the front. Even the hip hop bus had one.

One side point: I'm starting to understand the bus system a little better now. For example, this afternoon I was waiting at the bus stop and when the bus pulled up the driver smiled and motioned for me to get on. I now realize that this is the signal to jump on the moving bus Indiana Jones style. All my practice walking up the hill must be paying off because I was able to do this with no problem. Maybe this also is why the woman in the back of the bus was so impressed.


2. Which two of these sounds are you least likely to hear in a small Mexican town:
• blaring radio with schmaltzy Mexican music
• SUV thundering down the road
• fireworks at 5am
• church bells
• crowing roosters
• screaming babies
• muscle car roaring by blasting thumping boy band music
• shouting, angry motorists

Answer: You'd be unlikely to hear screaming babies and shouting angry motorists. Even though it can get loud, there is still a low stress level in the midst of the cacophony. (Bet you thought I was going to put crowing chickens in the list, huh?)


3. When do you get more sun: during a week in Mexico or during three months in Vancouver?

Answer: Trick question. You never get sun in Vancouver.

(Cheap joke, I know, but it gives me an excuse to put up a sunset picture I took from my balcony the other day:)



4. On what day do you put out your garbage in Mexico.
a) Monday
b) Friday
c) You don't put out your garbage, you burn it.
d) You set your alarm for 7am and take your garbage to a designated corner where you hand it to a friendly man who is waiting for all the neighbourhood garbage and who throws it in a pile on the sidewalk which will be momentarily picked up by a truck.

Answer: If you remember the answer to 1a) about the narrow sidewalks and roads, you'll know that the answer, of course, is d).



Be sure to keep studying these blogs so you're ready for the next quiz!

Farmers and Shoppers

Jim and I had planned to go to the Tuesday farmers' market at 9:30 but when he rang the bell I was still sipping coffee and had to answer the door in my pajamas. He hid a grin when I asked him what time zone we were in. Having learned from my brother Jeff, I decided to put on some pants, and we drove on a dusty back road towards the market, taking a detour to the entrance to the botanical gardens.

Jim loves to talk about the area and pointed out unusual cactus types and described some of the history of the buildings. There is even subsidized housing in Mexico, small government-constructed buildings that the locals extend with shanty-like structures that defy gravity. I wonder how much they would sell for in Vancouver? Quarter million? Half?

Jim and I parted ways at the market which stretched out as far as the eye could see and then some. It was truly the Metrotown of farmers' markets.* Vegetable stands were beside clothing stands which were beside stands that sold mp3 discs and pirated movies. Chickens ran beneath the patrons' feet while being chased by old women in red scarves. Mexican families with food piled high on their plates ate on foldup tables and chairs and watched busy women cook tortillas on towering open flames. According to Jim, there were even trucks parked on the edges of the market where wizened old men sold pigs and donkeys in hushed tones.

Whatever you wanted, you could get it at the Tuesday market. My niece Terra would even have found clothes she liked! But there was also an implicit order amidst this apparent chaos, and if viewed from above the market would probably reveal an inherent fractal design similar to that of the town itself. In the end, the scattered farmers' market turned out to be infinitely more organized and navigable than Metrotown.

I wandered around the many stands buying whatever caught my eye. The stall merchants would carefully weigh my produce and then announce a price. Before too long I began to wonder whether they were just making the prices up. At that moment Jim found me and explained that once he had stood beside merchants and watched them charge different prices to different people for the same items. I had no trouble figuring out which end of their sliding price scale I was on as my pesos quickly disappeared. Fresh gringo meat! they shouted with their eyes across their tables to one another. One kiosk owner was more generous and sold me a lifetime supply of cilantro for ten cents (although I found myself hoping he hadn't stopped his car on the way to the market to pull the cilantro from where it was growing beside the road). Even so, I devised a new goal: befriend the cute Mexican girl at the cell phone stand and give her a handful of pesos so that she can buy vegetables at the Tuesday market while I hide behind the nearest pole.

In the afternoon I went back to the library again thinking I might get a card and sign out a book or CD to learn Spanish and maybe find a Carlos Castenada book. The library clerk is unique in this town, a young woman with a dour face who responds with quick replies like a snapping turtle. Her answers are as predictable as the steady Mexican sunshine. Can I get a library card today? The computers are down, manana. How about today? Still down, manana. How about today? The power is out, manana. So I decided I would begin learning Spanish manana.

But the library is always worth a visit because it must be one of the most beautiful buildings in town. The picture is of the sun-soaked courtyard that is surrounded by different collection rooms.

By this time I had figured out how to use my cell phone and arranged to meet my friend Celena** at the library cafe. She showed up with her active and devic three-year-old daughter Gabi who is a lot like Jeff's daughter Amy. Needless to say we became fast friends and Gabi even taught me some Spanish words as she is bilingual already. Who would have thought "limon" means lime and not lemon? Like my niece Gloria, Gabi drew me a picture which is on the fridge beside the one Gloria gave me for Christmas.

Jan you should have warned me about Celena though being a shopaholic! It's contagious too, like drinking beer with my old friend Gord. We went to a huge supermarket that would rival the Fortinos in Dundas, Ontario and both filled the shopping cart with almost the same stuff (I was careful to keep her stuff on her side of the cart though). It was all gourmet items too, cheeses and fancy oils and wine. I thought of the Mexicans buying beans and rice downtown while we gringos were buying luxury food. Sometimes it is good to be a gringo. And it is good indeed to have a friend in Mexico.

Barney (who is Barney?) since you wanted pictures here's a picture of the sun rising on the town, taken from my balcony this morning:



* For you non-Vancouverites, Metrotown is a huge maze of a mall that covers a hundred square miles and is designed by spiders. The only quick trip to Metrotown in history was made by my brother Don who raced in to get a book for his daughter Terra and still met the family in plenty of time for a Chinese dinner.

** Celena, Jan, and I met at a Matrix Energetics seminar last September in Vancouver. Celena is the one who told me about this wonderful Mexican town!

Startin' Up!

Okay, the way I see it, if Connie can do a blog it can't be that hard, can it?

My second wonderful day in Mexico. Stayed the first night in a hostel which was quite nice until this morning when the hostess was nowhere to be found and the inner Mark was feeling hungry and lost. But my survival skills kicked in as I found the maid in the kitchen and speaking gibberish I pointed to the coffee maker and managed get a cold cup of coffee. I thought this kind of pointing was a pretty good technique so later I handed her the phone saying "taxi" and she looked through a whole bunch of cards and called me a cab. In danger of becoming a one-trick pony, I pointed to the address on my computer printout and the cab driver knew exactly where to go. When I handed him a twenty he gave back this multi-colored currency with holograms on it. I expected it to break out into a pre-recorded mariachi round at any moment.

Jim and Therese, my landlords here, are fantastic people. Therese met me at the door and showed me around with no hurrying. The apartment is beautiful and would probably cost a couple thousand (dollars, not holographic pesos) in Vancouver. There are two private balconies and I can even pick up wifi from a neighbour if I squeeze into a corner in exactly the right spot and the wifi devas tap me on the shoulder. Ergo this blog!



Jim joined us on the upper balcony as we enjoyed the fantastic view. We continued to talk and I was a little off center as I'm not used to people wanting to talk to me! (except very tolerant friends and family of course) He and Therese built this house for themselves years ago after living nearby and accidentally finding out the property was for sale. They designed the entire house and worked on it over a number of years. Not like the students in school who never finish their assignments, but like artists who want to get it just right.

I'm pretty much playing the role of the clueless gringo, wandering around with a bemused look and tripping over steps that appear out of nowhere. For some reason whenever I walk by the locals shouts of laughter break out the moment I pass line of sight. It's all in good fun. But of course when you're a clueless gringo, what's the best thing to do but find another clueless gringo which was easily done because all I had to do was notice someone reading a map. My new acquaintance told me about the town tour on Wednesday and after much ado we found the town library which he said is the cultural center for ex-pats. It was worth the walk as there was a beautiful cafe there and I had the first good cup of coffee since I left Winnipeg.


They don't understand the concept of coffee in Mexico. There is no such thing as coffee creme. So the first Mexican word I learned was "leche" for milk. This is the word you use when you don't feel like a Corona, which is a universal word that everyone knows.

I spent much of the afternoon trying to find a cell phone store. For some reason everyone knew where they were except me! Finally I gave up and decided to ride the bus to see where it went. I was a little confused because as I tried to pay the bus driver at the door he just waved me by. I watched other people get on and it seemed no one was paying. At this point I was thinking, Mexico is looking pretty good, but this guy must be independently wealthy. Then a couple of guys with clown makeup got on and shouted at each other across the bus then asked for money. I declined because I was still afraid of touching my pesos (the mariachi thing).

The bus wandered through many back streets and into a suburb and I pictured my four-year-old nephew Ben standing on the seat pointing eagerly to each horse or bus and shouting (while not ignoring the cute little Mexican girls). After a long time the bus stopped and the driver seemed angry to see me still sitting there. So I paid him and said I wanted to go back. He pointed to a bus across the street and shooed me away. The bus across the street turned out to be the hip-hop bus, with two twenty-somethings dancing to a thumping bass as they washed the windows and kicked the tires. When they started up the engine they turned the volume down, then with a grin cranked up the volume to 99.97% of the original volume. As we drove along the route, old men and women got on and seemed to walk down the aisle with a little more rhythm than in Vancouver. One man with a cane slipped a little bit but managed to do an amazing breakdance-style recovery all in synch with the beat. Ray Charles would have been proud.

Then one of the hip-hop guys stood behind me and said something in Spanish. I said, I don't understand, and he said, "I want your money". If this was Toronto my life would have flashed before my eyes (I think it did anyways)! But he was pointing to a ticket that he'd given me earlier and I gave him four pesos, or about forty cents. At this point I realized the Mexican system for riding buses which is to simply wait until someone gets mad at you and then you pay them.

When I got back downtown the sun had just set and I was hungry so I decided to look for a restaurant. It turns out that this was the secret of finding a cell phone store, because there were no open restaurants to be found but there were cell phone stores everywhere. I picked the one with the cutest counter girl who also spoke English and bought a new Mexican Motorola phone for $29US. I guess I must have asked one too many questions though because the sales girl pressed a key and held the phone to my ear. It must have been the "shut up the gringo key" as it was all in rapid Spanish which was even harder to understand than Alan's thick Scottish brogue when he talks fast after a beer.

I was off the hook in a minute though because then she screamed and pointed and said something excitedly to a co-worker, also a young girl. I started to tease her and said, is that your boyfriend, I hope your boyfriend comes back and says something nice to you, etc. Some people might think I had ulterior motives but all I was hoping was that if I made her laugh enough she would stick her hand under the counter and add another 100 minutes to the deal. The cell phone concept here is like the printer concept in Canada where they sell you a printer cheap and then charge a ransom for the ink. Cell phone minutes in Mexico are little handfuls of gold dust.

If you've read this far, you win the prize, you get to guess which part of this blog is made up. Only one part!

Gonna enjoy sleeping in my beautiful apartment tonight.