BarOcho...

Every weekend is its own adventure. Actually, one of my life mottos is “Life is an Adventure!” Friday night I met up with Holly at a dance in the plaza. As you can see, mostly older couples were dancing. (By the way, there was a large head at the bottom of this picture which I successfully removed! Thank you Photoshop and Computer Science 101!) Holly met a young guy from Leon who works in Gto, and the three of us went to the Italian Coffee Co for some beverage. (I had some wonderful fruity tea with tiny apple bits and dried cranberries in it) Later we all met up at the standard Teatro Juarez. Kate brought her friend Rafael, and he brought his friend Yahir. First we went to Bar Ocho (literally, Bar 8, but really a pun on “baracho,” which means drunk.) We had a good time there. Being only 10 or 11, it was still a mild atmosphere. Rafael lived in Victoria and Vancouver for a while, so he knows some English, but only used it when I didn’t know a particular word. We are frequently asked about our preconceived ideas about Mexicans. We discussed many different attitudes, and discussed a little about “machismo.” Rafael said it still exists some, but not much anymore. I started to question that by the end of the night, though.

Later we ventured to Capitolio Light for some karaoke, where many other friends from our group were. There were many friends of friends, and some of them surprisingly older…maybe even upper 30s. Many of the Mexicanos were making roses out of their napkins, something Rafael said all Mexican men should now how to do. He was really interested in getting “relationship advice” from me. It seems to me that many of the men here can be a little pushy. I assured him of my own relationship with “mi novio” and told him to be very careful and patient with any of the other girls. Most of the men were excessively complimentary about everything, and many bought single roses for us girls. Rafael has been in a band for 15 years and sang really well. My favorite was “El Aventurero,” or “The Adventurer,” I suppose. All the gringos really sang out when “Hotel California” played. Approaching 2, one of the older men, started making me really uncomfortable, so I hurried out. Everyone I was with left too, which I felt kind of bad about because I think they were going to stay later, but I was nice not to have to take a taxi or walk alone. Rafael and Yahir walked Holly and me back home, and begged us to go out with them on Wednesday. I forgot that we have our movie class night that night, but I gave him no promises…

Top L to R: Caitlin, me, David, Middle: Holly, Yahir, Rafael, Front: Sarita (she lives with Gorda-which actually means "chubby." Mexicans call people by the appearance all the time, whether it be Flaco, "skinny," one of my host brothers, or Guerra--in Mexico, "blond"-- or even Pelon, "baldy." It's actually a kind of endearment.) Anyway, Gorda hosted my Lindsey from Wofford last semester, so according to Lindsey's instruction, I stopped by her Relojeria/Joyeria (watch/jewelry store) to introduce myself. As Lindsey predicted she was extatic to meet me, full of hugs and kisses and even an invitation to dinner sometime! Almost everywhere I go now, as Karen, the program director predicted, I see someone I know or meet a friend of a friend; this time I saw three people in the centro that I knew.