The Gringo Diaries, Pt. 3
So I’ve been here a day more than a week and have only written a couple of times and as I remember, it wasn’t really about much. Surely I haven’t provided much of a travelogue and…
Yikes, I just killed a flying ant climbing up my shin. I think it’s those bastards that are making a deli out of my elbows and knees. They probably focus on the less fat parts of my body and really those are about it.
So I haven’t provided much of a travelogue or gone into much detail about the trip itself other than I was deathly ill for roughly 27 hours, 16 minutes, and 46 seconds, give or take. I made it through my own little the circle of hell - though for about 5 hours on Sunday afternoon while sweating poured from my veins in my claustrophobic room, staring at the ceiling fan like Martin Sheet waiting for his attaché on Colonel Kurtz.
It got so bad that I was honestly thinking of killing off some close family member, possibly my mother, so I had to fly home immediately and not pay some hefty change of flight fee. And it would be awkward receiving the flowers at work for a week once I got back to the states. Plus, I would have to take a few days off, to go to my very alive mother’s funeral, and hide in my basement to pull of the elaborate rouse.
At the time, it seemed worth it.
And now, I couldn’t imagine not being here; though I know two weeks will be enough. The last time I was here, I didn’t have a 6 year old whose kindergarten graduation I missed. And I realized, I kinda like my wife – who by the way kept me sane during the sick through very empathetic text messages.
The rainy season began this week and we got really, really wet at Teotehuacan today. We got back about an hour ago and were dropped off at the school. One girl in our group broke into a really weird rash where the clothes had been touching her skin and was freaking out and came to me as I was sitting in the computer room checking e-mail. I soon realized that she didn’t come to me as just the first available person to freak out to, but as the voice of authority. Oh, shit!
It’s one thing to be the voice of authority to a six year old and can hop in a car at any time and go to any one of six insta-cares in a four-mile radius. It’s another thing when a 25 year-old recent masters degree graduate comes to you in a third-world (not PC I know) country, where neither of you have what you call firm grasp on the language and wants not just to be comforted but saved.
So, since it was obvious she wasn’t dying, or death didn’t seem imminent, I walked her over to the Farmacia. The pharmacists in Mexico often know more about curing minor ailments than do the doctors. They gave us a good lotion and some hydrocortisone and she seems to be fine today. Thus cementing my status as an authority figure. !Ay carumba!
My Spanish is really improving. I went to Mexico City alone on Saturday. I decided I couldn’t leave Mexico without returning the Museum of Anthropology. It’s truly one of the great museums in the entire world. The people in the group who are staying for a full month will probably go on the tail end of their trip so on my free day I bought a ticket to Mexico City and set off on my adventure.
To be continued…
Usted llama que está enfermo? ¿Yo nunca le informe sobre el tiempo que he tenido un grano no pude pop?
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You can always feel free to use me as an excuse to get out of bad situations. You were so good a little boy it never seemed necessary, so I owe you a death or two. glad all has improved and that the language is returning. We have the Susan and Michael along with Erin. Having fun. Your grandmother is well and asking about you. I know that you will really have great stories. think about writing a story for Newsweek "My Turn", this story could be a great one. Love Mom
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Hi little nephew....like you, I am pretty allergic to the Mexican cooking, so I hope you are much better! Salt Lake is nice and hot today!
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