Other Random Items of Interest

I went running the other day and unintentionally stopped my watch at exactly 40:00. This really did amuse me. The same day I saw a donkey strolling down the road. The road was on a mountain with absolutely no pasture or any type of home for a donkey nearby—only houses on cliffs and traffic—and no one seemed to be looking after him either. Ha!

My host mother has a conference with her psychology workshops during a full weekend once a month. This weekend, she didn’t have time to leave any food for anyone, which wasn’t a problem, but later I found out it seemed to worry Señor Luis. He anxiously asked me several times Saturday if I wouldn’t mind making him some salsa later on. Thankfully, Margarita had taught me her formula the week before, but it quite surprised me how helpless a 50-60 year old man seemed in the kitchen! I made him the salsa as he curiously watched on. It was very amusing to me that I knew more about making salsa than he did!

There is a “upper-scale” restaurant chain called VIPS throughout Mexico, one of which is located very near my house. They have a large lawn in the back where many people pay to host parties and such. Funny thing is, they play really loud music there, so loud that it sounds like surround sound throughout the house. I’ve heard every style of Mexican music I know, including reggaeton, pop, banda, ranchera, salsa, etc. plus US music, too, like oldies, contemporary pop, you name it. The one that beat them all, though, was probably hearing “Don’t Break my Heart, My Achy, Breaky Heart” in Spanish. No kidding, they played from 8 am to 2 am and the 10 am to around 10 am the next day. Crazy times. The two most popular Mexican songs here right now have these lines in their chorus’: “Paseme la botella,” (or pass me the bottle), and “Lo que pasó, pasó entre tú y yo,” (or what happed between you and me, just happened).

It would take me a long time to get sick of this place. I have seen the mountains here look blueish, grayish, orangish, and today, they looked the most red I’ve ever seen them.

Pretty much every time I leave the house, some man/guy/boy will comment something like, “Hola, Guerra,” or “Gringa!” or “Bonita,” or something or the sort. Usually I ignore it, but sometimes it annoys me. Well, amusingly enough, the other day, a four-year-old girl said, “Hola, Guerra, Guerra!” to me! I smiled and waved back, but couldn’t help but laugh to myself!