When in Oaxaca...

(written 06/04/11)
Yesterday was rough. After 22 hours of traveling, all I wanted was a hug from my mom. Or my dad. Or a brother. Really, a hug from anyone would have been great. I may have llorar-ed a bit when the house got dark and quiet before 9pm and I didn't know what to do with myself.
But to backtrack a bit... Friday afternoon I took a puddle-jumper flight from Spokane to Portland. After a quick hello to Mt. Hood, I had another flight and soon hopped off the plane at LAX (if you now have Miley Cyrus blaring in your head, good. That was the plan). I knew that I had found the right gate for my Mexico City connection before I even got close enough to see the flight number. The whole room was buzzing with Spanish and the announcements were bilingual. There were so many little things, like plastic string bags and beaded hairclips, that I had forgotten about but were definitely from Mexico. We arrived in DF at 5:30ish in the morning and after a breezy trip through customs, I hung out in the airport with my book until it was light enough to venture out and catch a taxi to the bus station. Good ol' TAPO was not too busy at 7 in the morning and after talking with the nice people at ADO, settled in to wait for my bus. Despite sleeping through most of my flights, I fell asleep before the bus left DF and woke up just in time to see Malinche disappearing behind us. Yes, I managed to sleep through the entire state of Puebla...Typical of ADO, the busride featured completely strange and obscure movies that no one wants to watch. I definitely saw parts of "Open Season" and "Race to Witch Mountain" but sadly, no strange Nicholas Cage SciFi. The bus was miraculously ahead of schedule and we arrived in Oaxaca early, despite road construction and lots of traffic. This was probably due to the driver's David-like passing habits on the double-yellow-lined, two lane mountain roads between Puebla and Oaxaca. I met my coordinator, Leigh, at the ProWorld office and was soon picked up by my host mom, Mercedes. There are also two other ProWorld girls living with Mercedes who are both first-year medical students. I have a lovely room that gets sunshine throughout the day and looks out on the back garden.

Although my trip went about as smoothly as I could have expected, it's still stressful to travel alone. It's easier to have someone else there who will make half of the decisions, or at least will confirm that something sounds like a good idea. I became completely indecisive over ridiculous things, such as which bus seat to choose, what size of water bottle to buy, and which money exchange window to visit (they all had the same exact rate). Ah well, live and learn.

I woke up this morning feeling much more optimistic, partially thanks to the sun streaming in the window. In keeping with Oaxacan tradition, we had tamales and hot chocolate for Sunday breakfast, plus the ever-present pan dulce and fruit assortment. Hypothetically, I´m not a picky eater, but all I could think of while eating my papaya and mango slices was that Andy thinks the former tastes like solid fart and that I once threw up a large quantity of the later. Luckily, Mercedes is a veteran host mom and is very receptive to what her guests eat and don´t eat. She is heart-set on keeping me away from any dairy products ever since I told her that I´m más o menos lactose intolerant. The woman is solid gold.

This morning we had an orientation at the ProWorld office. There are 8 new interns this month, mostly college-aged students here for the summer, and all interning with various organizations. After some basic ¨Welcome to Oaxaca/Mexico¨ information, we went for a walking tour through Oaxaca´s centro. Enter, Project Suppress the Puebla Girl. Of the 8 interns, I´m the only one who´s spent any extended time in Mexico and it´s terribly tempting to share my limited knowledge on the Workings of the World. I mostly succeeded (I hope). In contrast with last night´s tears, today felt (nearly) like coming home. We wandered through the market where Amanda once found a grandote white teddy bear, saw the phallic balloon vendors in the zócalo, and walked past the hotel where Lisette made us watch an imitation Guelaguetza dance demonstration instead of watching the ND football game. I was reminded how much I like nieve from sketchy street vendors, how pedestrians don´t have the right-of-way, and how heavenly a taco stand smells on an empty stomach.
Despite the familiarity, I´m trying to be a blank slate. I don´t want to limit myself or let my guard down because of my previous experiences. Oaxaca is a very different city than Puebla, partially due to it´s indigenous population, but more on that later. I´m not exactly sure when I´ll get around to actually posting this because I have to go to a coffee shop or the ProWorld office for Internet access.
Nos vemos!