Standing Firm

Last Friday, while eating tacos down the street from our house, I was reminded of a conversation Mario and I had a bit over a year ago.

The original conversation took place in Jojutla (two hours south of Mexico City), where we were spending the weekend at Mario's grandma's house. We had headed there Friday evening after Mario came back from work. It took us about 3 hours to drive from our house, and we arrived tired, hot, and hungry. Therefore, soon after opening up the house, we looked for the nearest place to grab a bite to eat before heading to bed.

I know I was muddling through my food, almost overcome with exhaustion when I noticed a number of toddlers playing on the floor between the tables. Keep in mind, we were eating at 10pm--what were these kids still doing up? They weren't just a bunch of night owls belonging to one family. They belonged to at least two different families, plus one kid who apparently lived behind the restaurant. My friend, Danyel, had commented to me about a week earlier how she noticed that kids here don't seem to have bedtimes. When she made the comment, I hadn't ever really noticed this phenomenon. Yet here was proof right in front of my eyes.

So I asked Mario, my solver of all cultural conundrums. Do most Mexican kids have bedtimes? Knowing Mario's mom, she who lays down the law, surely he and his siblings would have been in bed by 8pm when they were kids. So imagine my surprise when he didn't think it at all odd that toddlers would be playing in the middle of a restaurant at 10pm. He was a lot more shocked at the thought of them being in bed regularly at 8pm--let's not even consider 7pm (horrors!).

Oh, dear. I foresee problems.

I believe that kids should have bedtimes. The younger the kid, the earlier the bedtime. It's just healthier for everyone. The kid wakes up happier and, as a parent, I'd be much saner. Again, everyone's happy.

I had to work this over on Mario for months. Every once in awhile, I'd bring up the subject, trying to get him to see the reason in my argument. Eventually, I got him to concede that he'd support me on giving our kids an early bedtime, although his planned response was to be, "go ask your mother". Granted, this is better than nothing, but any halfway smart kid can see the flaws in that logic.

In October, Mario flew to Detroit and back. On his flight home he noticed two kids in particular--one gringo and one Mexican. He mentioned that the gringo was so well behaved, but it was just torturous to have that Mexican kid on his flight. Instead of noting that often people from my country find Mexican children to be overall better behaved than gringo kids, I saw my opportunity. (Side note: I think this has more to do with the kids' personalities, their parents, and a host of other factors, and that kids in both countries behave more or less the same.)

"Well, you know, it's probably because the gringo kid has a regular bedtime that he behaved so well. The Mexican kid probably doesn't have a regular bedtime and was therefore tired and cranky."

I now have full support for regular bedtimes for our kids.



(But why was I reminded of this conversation? Because we had taken our 5-month-old baby out to eat tacos at 9pm. Classic Jojutla.)

Free time!

Yesterday Mario took the day off of work, as we went to apply for Little Girl's Mexican passport, which Mario was sure would take ALL DAY. However, Saltillo is a much smaller city than Mexico City, which he's used to, and therefore lines are much shorter and we were finished at about noon. Not bad. We'll pick up the passport tomorrow and leave the country next week. Excellent!

We had lunch downtown, wandered around a little bit, but when we could tell that Little Girl was clearly getting sleepy and rain also looked likely, we headed back home. I got the girl down for her nap, sat at the table with Mario and asked myself, "What to do now?" As Mario was home and plugged into the computer, I was under no obligation to remain in the house. Taking a walk sounded like a good idea, but again, it looked like rain.

So I asked myself, "What is it I would really like to do during a day when I'm NOT obligated to have a baby attached at the hip?" Immediately it dawned on me. I wanted to take a bus ride.


Now, I realize most people would not actively choose to hop on a bus for a few hours' worth of unexpected free time. Me, however, I think it's a lot of fun. (Clearly, I grew up in suburbia.) Plus, as I don't like to drive (and we only own one working vehicle), it's a great way for me to find out how to get around the city when I either don't have a car at my disposal.

I headed downtown, parked myself on a street where a plethora of different bus routes barrel down the road, and waited for a likely looking bus. Finally, I decided to jump on the Route 3. After all, on their return trip they'll nearly drop me off at my doorstep, so it's a good route to get to know, right? (Note: in must of the rest of the country, buses have signs posted on their windshields listing a variety of landmarks they pass on their routes. Not so in Saltillo. I don't know how other transplants learn how to get from one end of town to another, but my plan is simply to hop on a bus and see where it takes me. Clearly, this is not a very convenient plan when I have the baby with me.)

After cruising around downtown for awhile, the bus turned southeast and ambled through a variety of neighborhoods that I had no idea existed (I live southwest). Then it headed north, passed Wal-Mart, the baseball stadium, and soon I realized that we were in neighborhoods behind the university. It was nice to have a good idea where I was. Sometimes it's a bit terrifying when I don't. The bus kept heading north, and I toyed with the idea of getting off and trying another route, or simply sticking this one out to discover exactly how far out it goes. I stayed on the bus.

Finally, after turning east again, I was the only passenger on the bus. I noticed that we were nearing Liverpool (big department store), and the driver asked if I'd be getting off. I have a feeling that since he had no other passengers, he was then free to turn around and head back into town, as opposed to cruising through the colonias. I didn't mind, as I was pretty excited to find a way to get to Liverpool all by myself (and, as I discovered, Liverpool is not just Liverpool anymore--it's a full-fledged mall! I felt like I was back in Metepec, minus the skating rink).

After polishing off a plate of sushi, courtesy of Wal-Mart, I headed out to catch a bus back home. Again, I caught the Route 3, assuming that after weaving in and out of various neighborhoods it would drop me off nearly at my doorstep. However, the bus disposed of its last passengers and came to a stop literally on the other side of the tracks from my house. Not the safest walk home in the world. And unfortunately it was nearing 8pm. In many cities, the buses stop running at about this time, and I had never paid attention to when Saltillo's buses stop running.

The driver asked me where I wanted to go, and when I named my street he mentioned, a little irritated, that he already passed there. In my head, I thought, "yeah, but I thought you'd pass again." I asked if he'd be running the route again, and as he said yes, I just paid another fare and stayed on the bus and chatted with his wife and son who were also along for the ride. It turns out that the Route 3 is not the same as Route 3A, which goes past my house. Now I know.

Two hours after leaving Liverpool, I made it home. Maybe I should get better at driving the Jeep. But I'd miss out on a few adventures.

Mini-me, she is not.

Before she was born, I jokingly referred to Clara as Mini-me, or Mini-Mario. She is beginning to make it clear that she is neither of these people. I am relieved.

To make myself clearer, I need to back up a few weeks (possibly months). Little Girl has been laughing for awhile now. Not often, but every once in awhile something really tickles her funny bone. What I love is that she doesn't have a baby giggle. Nope. She has a rather reluctant chuckle, a low-pitched chuckle, often followed by a squeak. It's wonderful. Heh, heh. [squeak]

At first, she'd just laugh whenever Mario or I found something really funny. She'd see us laughing and think, "hmm . . . Mommy's laughing. Heh, heh . . . Yeah, that's funny!" Now she has developed her own sense of humor. And this is where her personality begins to split from my own. I think we had spent so much time where she literally was an extension of me that it took me by surprise that she will laugh at things that I just don't understand. She really IS her own person.

For instance, now when she's in the bathtub, she thinks that it's pretty funny when I wash her cheeks and neck with the washcloth. Why is this funny? And apparently it's a hoot when I kiss her belly (I'm thinking she might be ticklish). Fortunately for both of us, she sometimes thinks it's pretty funny when I squeeze her. (Mario is so happy that I can now pass off some of my squeezing urges on her now--and that she enjoys them, too. His ribs deserve a break.)

All that I know, is that we have embarked on a dialogue (or misunderstanding) that will last many, many years. She'll think something is hilarious, and I'll be on the sidelines wondering what on earth was so very funny. This reminds me of countless lunch periods with my preschoolers last year. Hah, hah--yeah, that's funny. Now eat.

It Never Ends . . .

After just recovering from closely following the US's general election, Mexico's general elections take place in about two weeks. Fortunately, this is not a presidential election and will not be for another 3 years. As a follow up from the last presidential election in 2006, Lopez Obrador is still deluded and considers himself the rightful president, even if his own party is in the process of disowning him. (Remember that? Yeah . . . yet another reason why our wedding was delayed . . . again. Thanks, MALO.)

Every so often now on the weekends, and sometimes during the week, members of Mexico's 8 active political parties stand in the medians near busy intersections with music blaring, trying to get us to vote for their candidate. A few weeks ago, a truck was parked outside my house, blaring music, as the PRI canvassed my neighborhood. They had the nerve to knock on my door, and I really wanted to tell them that if I were able to vote, I'd vote for the quietest candidate. However, that didn't come out of my mouth, and the Nicaraguan canvassing my street buttered me up, noticing our similarities that we're both foreigners. (So . . . if you're a foreigner, why are you stumping for political candidates? Perhaps he's been naturalized. Perhaps the candidate is his neighbor. Whatever. And if the National Institue of Migration reads this, I am neither endorsing or trashing any particular candidate or party. Therefore I can still get my resident visa on Monday, right?)

Mario's biggest irritation with election season is the plethora of political commercials on the TV. The presence of the commercials doesn't bother him so much (except when they're ridiculous). What bothers him is that the political parties get their air time for free, but the commercials (and all other political propoganda) are paid for with taxpayers' money. Yes, a country that has a huge need for infrastructure and improved government programs, but has a relatively tiny tax base squanders what little tax revenue they do have on political ads. And we in the US like to complain about paying for the economic stimulus. At least we're getting something out of that (in theory).

But it will all be over in a few short weeks on July 5th. Oh, boy! For those who are interested, below is a short reference list to Mexico's main political parties.

• PRI (Institutional Revolutionary Party) For most of Mexico's history as an independent nation (200 years next year), Mexico has been ruled by various dictatorships. Therefore, one of the main stipulatons of the Mexican Revolution (celebrating its 100th aniversary also next year) was that most people holding elected office, particularly the president, can NEVER be reelected. This still stands sacred as the main rule of Mexican politics. However, those who organized the country after the Revolution apparently held themselves to a certain philosophy and, from this, formed the PRI party. Although no one person was ever reelected, the PRI effectively ruled Mexico for about 80 years, and in some areas of the country continues to rule roughly unchallenged. For obvious reasons, their colors are red, white, and green.

• PAN (National Action Party) The PAN was formed in about the 1940s (not 100% positive on the date) as an opposition party to the PRI. President Fox, elected in 2000, was the first non-PRI president elected since the Revolution which ended in 1921. President Calderon, the current president, is also of the PAN party. They're thought to be a bit more conservative than the PRI, but one can not compare these two parties to the Republicans and Democrats of the US. There are a myriad of differences and I'm not even close to understanding them. All I know is that Mario wrote me his most optimistic letter (of political events) in the summer of 2000 when Fox was declared to the the new president. After a lifetime of believing that one's vote didn't really matter because the PRI would always win, no matter what, Fox's election was able to make even Mario momentarily optimistic about the democratic process. Although Fox didn't seem to do much as president, simply the fact that he won and the PRI ceeded power to him was an enormous step for democracy in Mexico. The PAN's colors are blue and white.


• PRD (Democratic Revolutionary Party) The PRD is a relatively new party, I believe. It's supposed to be more of a left-leaning party, but I've heard that it's simply made up of former PRI party members whose careers weren't going anywhere (or who pissed off mainstream PRI leadership). They've been in charge of Mexico City for a number of years, but I don't think they hold much sway over the rest of the country. The above-mentioned Lopez Obrador used to be mayor of Mexico City, ran for president in 2006, lost by a very slim margin, but refused to acknowledge the official outcome of the election. As mentioned, he still thinks he's the "real" president of Mexico and holds rallies in Mexico City every now and then so people don't forget about him. He ran under the PRD party, but now it seems that they're a bit sick of him, and he's been appearing in ads for other political parties (often two or three different parties at the same time . . . go figure). The PRD's colors are yellow and black.

Now for the relatively insignificant parties:

• Partido Verde (Green Party) Clearly, they try to put environmental issues on their agenda. To generate more controversy this election, they're proposing that Mexico introduce the death penalty. Yep, they lost me at "death penalty". But since I can't vote, I suppose they're not losing too much sleep over that.
  
• Partido del Trabajo--PT (Work Party) Given their name, their red and gold colors, and their symbol of a gold star on a red background, I am assuming this party would be Mexico's socialist party (without saying that in so many words). The only things I know about them are that a few years ago they advertised their candidates without last names. "Vote for Jose!" (Jose who? Yeah, very professional.) However, the mayor of Metepec is from the PT and he did get trash collection moved from only once a week to three times a week. Yay for Oscar!
  
• Nueva Alianza (New Alliance) No idea. I believe this party is mainly run by the national teachers' union. At least they're quiet.
  
• The only other party I can think of I can't remember their name. However, their symbol can be viewed in two (or three) ways. Initially, it looks like a roughly drawn red bird. Then it looks like a hand with the palm extended upward. This palm could be interpreted as trying to help the people. It could also be interpreted as the party that's forever asking for money. You decide. And their platform this election is to legalize drugs. I don't see them winning many seats.
  
• And there are probably a few other parties out there, as they tend to spring up overnight.
  

Now, that which I presented here is just to my knowledge of Mexico's political system as I know it at the moment. I am not Mexican and my knowledge is likely to be faulty in a few areas. If I have presented erroneous information, it was done completely in innocent ignorance. Please let me know if I have misrepresented any pertinent information, and I'll be happy to edit this post. Furthermore, [for the benefit of INM] it has not been my intention to promote or abuse any candidate or political party (or any branch of the Mexican government) . Again, if I am found guilty of this, I will be happy to erase this post in return for my FM2. Thank you!

Vampire Killer

So Little Girl freaked me out again.

Yesterday, I poked my head into her bassinet and was appalled to discover a huge spot of blood on the side of the bed (huge is about an inch in diameter). I didn't notice that she had been bleeding! And what would make her bleed when she was in bed?

Just before I made a frantic phone call to the doctor, I remembered seeing two mosquito bites on her right thigh. The blood spot was at about thigh level on the right side of her bed. Hmm . . . Coincidence? Apparently not, as I found a dead mosquito underneath the unsightly stain.

Yep, my girl can take care of herself. Don't mess with the Claranator!

Destination: Parras, Coahuila

Last Friday, Mario came home from work and suggested that we pack up, so we could spend all weekend in Parras. As I was ready to go anywhere, all three of us were packed up and in the car in about an hour.

Parras is about 2 hours west of Saltillo. Saltillo and Parras are both oasises in the desert, as the drive between the two towns is dominated by the Chihuahuan desert. Ugh. Now, when I lived in New Mexico, I remember thinking that the Chihuahuan desert was beautiful. But, New Mexico has plenty of mountains. While Coahuila also has plenty of mountains, the stretch of desert between Parras and Saltillo is flatter than Kansas. Sorry, Chihuahuan Desert--not pretty.

Therefore, it came as a huge relief to finally turn off the highway and head towards the mountains upon nearing Parras. Trees started to appear, then pecan groves, then vineyards, and my eyes were refreshed after more than an hour of staring at ocotillo and scrub.

Parras is famous for producing three products: jeans, candy, and wine. We haven't explored the jeans stores yet, so I can't really comment on those (there is a huge Dickies factory just off the highway, though). Their candy stores are dominated by pecan candy, fig candy, and dulce de leche. While not providing as many options as the candy stores in Puebla (also famous for candy) and quite a bit more expensive (it is a different type of candy, after all), the candy they sell is altogether delightful--nutty, yet creamy. I'm looking forward to knowing those candy stores better in August, when my mother-in-law comes to visit, as she has a sweet tooth to rival mine, and always seems to find her way into candy stores, wherever she may be.

However, this weekend, Mario and I were on a mission: to go swimming and to try some wine. While Parras boasts about 4 lakes, most of which are open to the public for swimming, we decided that it would be easiest, while traveling with a 4-month-old, to stay at a hotel with a pool. Therefore, while she napped, we soaked up some pool time. Little Girl even tolerated the pool for awhile herself after waking up.

Sunday was Wine Day. After checking out of the hotel, we headed to Casa Madero, founded in 1597 and the oldest vineyard in North America. They give tours, so our guide, Victor Hugo, told us all about how Casa Madero makes their wine and brandy, as he walked us over their grounds, open production areas, and bodegas. Of course, we wound up our tour in their tasting room. Casa Madero is best known for their Shiraz and Chardonnay, but we had to take their word on that, as those aren't among the wines they provide for tasting. The house exports about 85% of their production, mainly to Europe. As they're not hurting for clients, and it came so well recommended, we took them at their word and bought the Shiraz and Chardonnay. Victor Hugo also described the wine festival that both the town and Casa Madero host in the early part of August. The streets will be full with vendors, a hill near the vineyard will have a late-night processional complete with dancing, and they'll elect a new Wine Queen. What a job that must be!

As the day was winding to a close, we climbed back into the car, loaded down with our candy and wine purchases. We'll return to Parras in a few weeks. Next time we'll visit the lakes. Little Girl will like that better than the pool, as the water should be warmer--or so we can hope!

Improved Upon Translation

I hate translating. Unless people come to visit me. Then I LOVE it. But in general, it's a lot of work, so I do have a lot of respect for people who do it. Nevertheless, I do love catching mistakes.


Upon looking at the English side of my toothpaste the other day, I noticed that besides its whitening and cavity fighting powers, it also packs another punch. (Look very closely at the white lettering at the top of the tube.)

Yes! It fights EVIL breath!

Fine Young Men

Warning: we all stereotype people. I am no exception. In fact, I may be worse than average. I'd rather I didn't, but the reason we stereotype is to help us make sense of our world. As I realize that I'm possibly worse in this respect than others, I do try to see beyond the stereotype. But I thought I'd preface this entry with this warning, as I'll likely rely on many of my stereotypes.

One of my pet peeves walking down a typical Mexican sidewalk (which is normally only wide enough to accommodate 1.5 people walking side-by-side) is many other pedestrians' failure to let others pass. True, many people will move to one side if they hear someone walking up behind them at a fast pace. But often when two women are walking side by side and they approach another woman walking on the same sidewalk in the opposite direction, who gives way? My mind says that the party of two should walk single file for a few steps. But apparently this is not the Mexican way, as most women walking side-by-side hold their ground and it's up to that lone woman walking toward them to squish herself into the nearest wall in order to let the other two pass. I don't understand. This is also true if the lone woman is wielding a stroller. Go figure. Maybe we'd all pass comfortably if I adhered to some walking rule that they don't tell you about in customs. I was probably in the bathroom during that lesson.

To make a not-so-long story short, my encounters on sidewalks are usually not the friendliest. (There's also no animosity, but they're just not pleasant experiences.) Furthermore, sidewalks are generally not designed with strollers in mind--cracks in the sidewalk often rise a good 4 inches, people plant trees in the middle of the sidewalk, all of a sudden sidewalks turn into gravelwalks, and curbs can be precariously high. On Friday, I was walking downtown, dodging the loitering groups of school kids making nuisances of themselves after school while lugging the stroller down from 2 foot high drops between the sidewalk and the street. Out of the blue, a few of the loiterers came closer and politely asked if they could help. I almost dropped the stroller. And as the clouds rolled away and the sun came out and all the world looked friendlier, I flashed them a genuine smile, thanked them for their offer, and thought about what a wonderful world this is.

So I had to readjust my stereotypes yet again. But allow me to wallow back in them for just a minute. Normally we (I) think of junior high/high school kids (particularly the boys) as obnoxious, lazy, self centered, etc. But after the few encounters I've had with them (particularly the boys), it's easy to come to the realization that's not at all the case. Again, I've noticed that young men here (particularly those who are far too young to consider me a potential girlfriend) have been educated to treat others with an impressive level of respect. Really, it's basic decency that I've noted, but given by young men who go out of their way to deliver it.

One of the more touching ways I've seen this respect displayed was in a crowded mass a few weeks ago. There's a very old man who lives near the church and, despite his reliance on his walker, always manages to walk to church punctually every Sunday. This particular week, he entered a bit later than normal and all the pews were full. Of course, people will generally give up their seats to older people, particularly one with a walker--this is nothing out of the ordinary. (But quite shamefully, it's usually people in their fifties or sixties giving up their seats for the ancianos--what's wrong with my generation?) However, on this particular day, a young man in his twenties gave this man his seat. He also gently helped him up and down and offered him his arm to help him to the aisle for communion. Once mass was over he again gave this older gentleman his arm to help him out of the church, so he wouldn't get jostled from everyone else leaving. Both of these men I look up to and respect. One, for showing his devotion and getting out despite age, arthritis, and potential dangers. I hope that I will one day be as devout and uncomplaining. The other, for looking beyond himself and simply doing the right thing. After witnessing his example, I notice the ways in which I fail.

This is the other side of the coin. While every once in awhile I am truly touched by a display of respect given by a random man in public, I struggle to remember a similar display given by a woman. (Being a woman and a feminist, this is a particularly painful realization.) Perhaps I've seen this but simply taken them for granted. Whatever the case, I know I need to set the bar higher for myself. I'd like to think that I do look beyond myself and do the "right thing" when called upon. But do I really? And if I don't provide that example, what kind of young woman will my daughter turn into: the one that doesn't give way on the sidewalk or the one that helps the lady with the stroller?

Milestones?

Now, I don't know if these are milestones in anyone else's book, but we've picked up a few that we've noticed in the last few weeks.

• Little Girl has started chewing. This freaked me out the first time I saw it, as I'm used to toddlers/preschoolers and if they're chewing something and it's not mealtime, it's usually something that shouldn't be in their mouth. So after a visual inspection and finger sweep, decided that Clara's just chewing on her tongue. Is this her sign that she's ready for "real" food? I hope not, as nursing her is just so easy and convienient (now that she finally gets satisfied for a few hours after a feeding--I know I voiced other opinions two months ago).


• After a week of waking up every time I put her in her bed once she fell asleep in my arms, we decided that it was high time for her to learn to fall asleep on her own. (OK--we really had no other option except for holding her all night. And that's not an option.) While it took well over an hour for her to cry herself to sleep the first night or two, each following night she cried less and less (just as those baby books said she would). Now, after a little over a week, she'll cry for maybe fifteen minutes before drifting off.


• Even better, when she wakes up in the middle of the night, I feed her, put her back in her bed awake (as now she refuses to even fall asleep in my arms in the middle of the night), and I don't hear a peep out of her for a few hours. Who'd have thought? I'm still amazed. Of course, now that I write this, she'll probably decide to regress back to her old ways. Oh, the cynic I am!


• She now splashes in the bathtub. After actively hating bathtime for her first six weeks, to merely tolerating it, she now clearly enjoys it. That is, until I lay her down in the tub to rince the shampoo out of the little hair she has. This, she merely tolerates. Therefore, she doesn't mind at all when I take her out of the tub.

So at four months, we're finding that life does get easier. But the chewing has me worried--does it mean she's teething? No, not yet! I love those gummy smiles!