The Waiting

Tom Petty was right; the waiting is the hardest part.

Disclaimer: before, during and after the following event: Everyone is okay and in good health (unless they have been subjugated to Snuki's ninja gas since this has been published (if that is the case, there is no hope)).

We told the little Indian man with the mop and wet floor signs that we had an appointment, and I took my seat in the first waiting room of our relationship (I'm sure there will be more to follow). I read, chatted with one of the attendants, read some more, chatted with a worker, listened to the music playing in the office, thought about reading some more, contemplated life, solved world hunger, almost fell asleep, wanted to fall asleep, sat as still as possible for as long as possible, looked very closely at my hands, knotted the tip of a dread, watched people walk by, almost thought about something, gauged the hunger factor, considered donating my butt to science, wondered if I could have my lower back removed and in the spirit of the moment and room: waited.
She found me; I found her; we found each other (yeah like before, except again and now). We walked to Santo Domingo and ate tacos; good tacos (I'm going to bottle waiting and sell it as a seasoning). In good gopheric fashion (I don't know what's with me and gophers lately), Jose pooped, I mean, popped out a little restaurant. If it strange to run into some one you know in a place, multiply that feeling by factor diez when in a foreign country. He joined us; it rained (big surprise), so we dodged into a coffee shop and had coffee (another surprise). It finished raining and we made it to the church for the study. Isidro joined and so did Ramiro. Ramiro is staying in an upper floor apartment on the church grounds, as he is from a smaller town but is studying here in Oaxaca. We talked about the concept of Two Pacts (or Covenants); it was really good. I find myself enjoying the examination and discussion of the Old Testament much more fulfilling than the New, probably because people in general are more familiar with the New.
Since I was a good boy, I was treated in good American fashion to McDonald's. I got a chocolate milk shake with enough sugar to put a full grown female (I don't know why) rhinoceros into a diabetic coma (at least it's not a gopher). Jose had the McTrio of the day (I only stole 1 fry). It was difficult to be in there for a number of reasons but we left without incident and made our way home. Big wheels keep on turnin'.

Tule a Tule, Periferico, Chedraui, Cinco Senores

We had plans to meet with Sister Norma from the church and go to her house for lunch at 1:00, but early in the morning she called to say that she would have to postpone because something came up. We got up (after that) and now had a clear day ahead of us to do with what we wanted. We decided to make our first solo trip to Chedraui.
Think Wal-mart. We were excited to put together the ingredients for another pizza day, but apprehensive about the process. Our apprehensions arose at the thought of having to navigate the city with arms full of groceries without transportation. Its not a big deal to go to walmart, each of us have been many times, at many times of the day, on many different occasions. But to go without your own car puts a new spin on things. We boarded the bus, the man riding the stairs shouting the various locations the bus would pass (see title).
Our first stop was the Caseta, for a visit with Gerardo and Alma Rosa, and a torta. I opted for a Squirt (its been years). Alma Rosa tells us that tomorrow (Friday) Claudia will be going to the clinic to have her baby. After our lunch is finished we board another bus also to Chedraui.
We get off basically right in front of the store, got our cart, and got out the list. Mozerella, Pepperonis, flour, laundry detergent, toilet paper... the usual. Shopping completed we did our best to combine our bags (both for the strength of the plastic and for ease with which to carry) and headed back out to the bus stop. We were 5 steps late for the first bus to Tule, and so we stood on the curb waiting. Not more than 7 minutes later another bus from Tule whized by. Right by us, I guess our finger wasn't fast enough. 4 more minutes and we are met with another Tule bus that stops nicely infront of us. We board, and are thankful that there are seats open. We get what would be the equivalent to the door seat on an airplane. The seat that should have been infront of us has been removed so we have ample leg room and grocery storage. Our journey home is easy, and nothing spoils in the process.
Suki is glad to see the groceries when we arrive. We do not feed her people food, but the trash can often does.
Everything finds a place of temporary residence, the fruit is washed, and we sit down for a quiet evening of dinner, candles (citronella to keep the mosquitoes at bay) and each other.

Sign-ups for Free Boat Ride

We went to breakfast in Tule with Alberto and Veronica at the Milenario; it's a really nice restaurant with good food. I always learn so much when we are together, especially about food. I always ask about the ingredients and how it is made, and Veronica is great because if she doesn't know then she will ask the waiter or the chef. It if fun to use my Spanish to investigate the culture and learn new words via circumlocution. We talked about another trip later next week to a trout farm where they cook, believe it or not, amazing trout (not that the trout themselves are amazing with super-trout powers (at least that's the interpretation I came up with, though sometimes important details get lost in the mix)). We parted afterward, Veronica had to work, and went home having thoroughly enjoyed, once again, Oaxaca's table.
So I'm doing pretty well; got the push-ups close to 100 in 5 sets. See you do recommended reps for the first 4 sets and then the last is a max rep. Well, my group's reps totaled for something like 52 and my max rep was 39. The push-ups are great because it's not a heavy workout by any means but it is something and is a movement in the right direction. I still don't know what I want from my body now making the transition for college athlete to ??? Obviously I want to be healthy and fit but what that looks like is still up in the air.
Wednesday it rained. Then it stopped. Then I got a call.
It was Soledad; the Bible studies on Wednesday are at her house. She called to ask if we should cancel because the forecast for the evening said it was going to pour something fierce. Since most of the people who attend the study ride public transport and are older adults, I thought it best to take Soledad's advice and wait out the storm for this week. So now that there was no study for the evening, my to do list became quite short, though I did add two things: grow beard, build ark.
I went upstairs and looked out the door to the mountains. There was darkness on the mountains, green light and a strong breeze that didn't really know where to go. This is it. Hand me that 2x4, no, the one with the barking gopher sitting on top.

Muddy Coffee

Zach woke up still feeling jazzed (probably from all that brawn in the movie), and we decided to make a trek to "Cafe a Pan" for a nice cafecito. The coffee shop is probably 3 miles from Tule, so we opted for a nice bike ride. Things were muddy from all the rain the day before, so I had a nice mud stripe up the back of my white shirt by the time we arrived.
I - the non spanish speaking one - asked for a menu and we sat down to decide what we wanted. Zach ordered a Moka (mocha) and I opted for a cappuccino. There was a blonde lady with a cute little boy sitting at a table kind of behind us. She made her way to our table to meet us and ask where we were from. Turns out, she is from California, but living in Oaxaca with her husband and son now. She was very sweet, very Adrienne as well.
This encounter sparked a brief discussion of the previous night's movie and then of other movies we liked and wanted to see. Our journey back was muddy but safe, surprisingly similar to the way out.
Just a few minutes after making it home it started once again to rain, and rained the majority of the rest of the day. We discovered the Serrano's have RCT2 (Roller Coaster Tycoon 2) and took a little journey back to the future (back into the childhood selves who loved the game, and into the future of being grandmaster roller coaster designers).
Another day, another journey, another blog.

Balboa brings brock to Oaxaca

Monday seems like a dull mist on the horizon (the one behind you that you don't see because you are usually looking to the horizon that refers to the future).
There was more rain, more time spent at the house, more fun, but less adventure.
Jose came over in the late afternoon and I made sandwhiches for the guys as we prepared to sit down and have one of the most "American" experiences of my life. My first viewing of Rocky. Zach saw it very fitting to have sandwiches during the movie, since a good ole ham sandwhich with chips is what he calls the "American meal."
We were all pretty pepped after the movie. Zach pumped out his push-ups (we are doing the 100 push ups program) and after he was done Jose asked for Zach to make him a workout that would give him muscles like Zach (okay, that's not exactly what he said, but the gist is there). Jose sat with a pen and paper and Zach began to describe (and sometimes demonstrate) various upper body and lower body lifts. About halfway through the upper body workout Zach was formulating, Jose gave a "Whew" (the kind where someone usually wipes sweat from their brow) and said "okay, you can stop, im tired already." Zach didn't stop, but continued for a good 30 minutes. Needless to say, Jose has more choices of lifts and exercises than he probably wants.
It was late when we finished talking, about working out, eating, life, family, the works. Jose headed home in the rain and we settled in for the night.

Love and Laughter, the best medicine

We got on the bus a bit later than planned, but contrary to the stereotypical "late for an engagement couple fight" our marriage greatly benefited from a really good learning experience, all thanks to a beautiful breakfast fixed by my one and only dear husband. A late bus board still landed us in our seats just as the opening prayer was finishing. Zach helped pass out communion, and then talked during class to the youth group about the symbolism and meaning for our participation in the Lord's Supper. It is neat to see the communication between Zach and the group, even the "i've got to sit slouched a bit and look slightly disengaged" ones really soak up his thoughts. Miguel and Pedro's mom, Lulu, told me after class that Miguel had shared something Zach had said in bible study with her and she was really excited to hear these new words. These brothers and sisters are a very hungry very alive part of our body. Add them and their eager hearts to your prayers every now and then, and say thanks to and for the family and friends you have that teach, challenge, pray for and encourage you.

Thank you to my friends and family (old and new). For your love, support, prayers, gentleness, teaching, guidance, and friendship.

After everyone had gone their separate ways to their respective homes or otherwise, we caught a bus back to Tule for a quiet afternoon in preparation for the movie.

A few hours later we got back on the bus (all different buses up to this point) back into the city for the movie. We had spoken with the movie man right before leaving the church and he said he would pick up "Count of Monte Cristo" that afternoon and bring it. He arrive shortly after we did to the building - empty handed! The video store had rented the movie to someone else. So he and Zach went off in search of the second part of the National Treasure Saga instead. A minute after they left Miguel came with his computer ready to set everything up, and Jose was not too far behind. The three of us set up the projector and the chairs and started washing bowls and cups. We finished all of this and still the movie hunters will still not back. Mike asked Jose what time it was. Jose, fully equip with every time telling device known to post modern man (cellphone and laptop (he also had on a wrist watch)) replies "I don't remember." Oh dear. Mike and I giggle and as you all know once you get me started things just escalate from there. Mike is good at being a funny and punny person. Needless to say that by the time I heard Zach coming up the stairs there were tears streaming down my face. Zach just shook his head (similar to the way that always happens when we are in Cade and Ashton's living room) and sent Mike and I on a quest for popcorn, pop, and... whatever else we wanted. The corner store was closed so we made our way up towards the bus station and bought 9 bags of popcorn, four 3 Liter sodas, and an ice-cream bar for the brave soul who dared go with us (and the only youth groupie who had shown up at that point) The church building doesn't have a microwave, so we had to pop the bags of corn at the store. When Mike was asking the kind lady behind the desk if we could use the microwave she told him we could and to put the bags in for one minute and fifty seconds. Well Mike somehow heard that yes we can use the microwave but it is going to cost one and .50 pesos each. It has been made clear to the lady behind the counter already that I do not speak much spanish as I have turned to Mike to translate the cost of all the goodies we just purchased. So as I am reaching into the bag for more pesos to give the lady, she turns to Mike and says "Do you speak spanish? Not 1.50 pesos, 1:50 minutes!" This part I do understand, and as mike blushes a little bit I laugh. She shakes her head and points me on to the microwave.
We stood for quite a while waiting for all the bags to pop (we didn't put them all in at the same time, though after the third one I did consider the option). As the last bag is cooking Mike gets a sack to carry them back in and loads up. The microwave dings, I grab the last crusader, and we head out the door. Five steps outside of the threshold and the lone ranger I am carrying shrivels up like a pruned kinder-gardener who has spent too long in the kiddie pool at the fourth of July picnic. We laugh the rest of the way to the building at this. (the popcorn not the kinder)
We arrive in the doors and begin passing out drinks and corn when there is a huge commotion out on the street that we just walked up. A bunch of the gathered crowd flies like a flash to the window, throwing open the curtain and pulling back the...wait a minute, no they actually just walked outside and it was only 2 of them. There was a demonstration going on. Apparently a few years ago there was a riot during a protest by some school teachers, and a few of the teachers were killed. This is a parade of sorts with spray paint artist stenciling an abstract picture on the walls of anything and everything they pass. Zach got some pictures that will have to be shared. It was a different sight.
Parade past, we start the movie. There are a few returners from episode one, but a few new comers as well. Everyone enjoyed the movie, which again was a good production, good sound, good quality, good company. Lulu gave us a ride home - sometime we feel so blessed and so spoiled by the love from everyone here. It is neat to have a family away from the family we love and miss. We found at home the puppies happily nestled and asleep, and quickly followed their example.

The Rapido and the Dead

It's been too long; I can't remember Saturday morning though if it were 15 (okay 10 (alright 5)) years ago the answer of course would have been watching cartoons. I do know that we had plans to meet with the youth and throw down some football rapido (basically arena soccer in a very small (homemade) arena). So we arrived on time, believe it or not, and waited for the other; it was sprinkling a bit but that doesn't matter because our court is a covered concrete slab. The others arrived and we assembled the court using table tops as the side walls. The game began.
I am not a good soccer player and I'm sure I'm worse than I think since I'm not exactly certain as to the etiquette of soccer. Chances are I was fouling people left and right, leaving enough on the court for a game of 52 pick-up. There were smiles and goals and sick moves (I took part in the first the other players enjoyed the latter two).
We wore ourselves out, went for some water and called it a night disassembling the arena. We reminded everyone about the movie tomorrow evening, and set off with Jesus Ricardo and Jose to find the ever elusive Count of Monte Cristo at another, closer, rental store. We arrived and alas, arrived to late. They had closed but we were certain there would be sufficient time tomorrow to come by and make the grab. We rounded out to Tule and after a much needed postgame shower, laid to rest my head and my dreams of ever becoming a successful professional soccer player.

No Existe Lechuza???!!!??!!?!

Friday started with the familiar song and dance with relatively little consequential action until the evening study. We met at the church and talked about the life of Jesus. I tried to emphasize the different ways a person can interpret the life of Jesus. King, Prophet, Teacher, Son of God, Son of Man (human), Israel. We talked about various instances in his life where it is abundantly evident that he acted out of these various identities. I think everyone (including myself) really appreciated the study.
Afterward, Mike, Jose, Kimb and I went for tacos at a stand called Lechuza. In trying to determine an appropriate translation for Lechuza we were confronted with the fact that it was a type of owl and that is all we know. Mike became quite concerned during the process as he exclaimed with wide eyed surprise/amazement/incredulity/disbelief, "No existe Lechuza?" I have never seen anyone so concerned about the American existence of a type of owl. He is studying law but with such passion he may involve himself in animal rights over human rights. After assuring him that I was certain they exist (though who who really knows (shameless I know)), we moved on to ordering. We quickly decided that the 2.2 pounds of pork meat would work for the 4 of us (yeah they sell it by the kilo). They gave us a veritable smorgasbord of tortillas and we feasted, and feasted and feasted. Dad, I was wearing those pants of yours from the early 80's (you know narrow leg, striped and tight); well it was tough standing up afterward, it was tough staying put in the seat, it was just difficult to contain myself after 3/4 of a pound of edibles had just entered my internals. They asked the waiter for a gurney and they rolled me out of there into the street.
We wobbled down the road (down hill thankfully), crossing traffic, trying not to get so close to the buses and trucks as to suck them into me by my newly gained gravitational force. In the thousands of years of catholic dominance in this region, I was the victor; I was Critical Mass.
Lulu and Miguel, Jose, Kimb and I loaded into the car and skirted over the mud-drenched road(?) to our house. We said goodbyes and see-you-laters, and squeezed through the 4 foot-wide space of the entry into the house. I made it to bed, trying not to move so as to avoid giving myself a hernia from eating so much.

Sevens

Editor's Note:

It has come to the attention of the editor (and writers) of this periodical that there is a contingency known as the fos (Fans of Snuki) who are causing a fuss. So as to avoid a decrease in readership, we are unable to do otherwise than acquiesce. If the kind reader will stay the course through the first few introductory narratives, his/her sought prize will be realized.

Sincerely,
us

It was a day much like others, sunshine peeking through the window, a blanket of cool air on top of our blanket of warmth and the sudden screeching explosion of fireworks (bottle rockets that would do Texas-big-syndrome proud). I love life.
I got up and went about my daily routine. Clothes. Food (for Snuki). I poured the bits of Kibbles in the blue bowl and looked around but was unable to find the prowling pup; no sign. It was quiet, too quiet. I took a precautionary sweep around the immediate environment and everything was clear, wait, motion sector 9 possible subterranean probe, did that pile of mud just move? Get down!!! Incoming!!! MEDIC!!!!
It was too late the medic wasn't there in time. Thankfully there were no casualties, quiet the opposite really, 6 new lives.


They were all quite healthy and squirmy. I went and got Kimb and the camera. She was looking and ohhhing and ahhhing and I was snapping, clicking and flashing (okay the camera not me). Kimberly sudden perked up and looked around following the wall around to the side yard. I followed and heard it to: a mammalian chirp/squeak/sneeze. There was the tree and behind the tree the nest and inside the nest another little life, cord still attached to the placenta sack. Snuki came over to inspect and Kimb offered her the pup. She (Snuki) sniffed, liked and grabbed the pup in her mouth carting him over to the others (after disconnecting the cord and eating the placenta). All licked up and fed up the pups wiggled around to there spot in the pile and fell silent. Well that event was a lot easier than I thought it could have been.
Note about how God can change plans. We were going to go to the coast this week. We decided to wait instead until the coast is clear. During this week the puppies were born, no big deal we didn't really help in that process but the tree pup. Snuki might have gone back for him, but it seemed like quiet a bit of time had passed since the relocation of the others and that he might have been left. We are glad to have missed the beach and been able to rejoin this pup with the rest. Plus it rained, a lot.
We cleared a space in the bathroom, for them, food and water for Snuki and a couple of towels for the pups. Now they are Seven.
Aaron and Emmy don't worry we've already named them. Let's see.... there's Doc, Sneezy, Sleepy, Grumpy, Happy, Dopey, and Bashful. Not really, I'm sure they can't wait to see you guys (when they realize they can open their eyes).

We didn't really have any other plans for the evening so we spent time with the pups, dined, watched some X-Men, groceries in Tule, and wondered what else our time here would hold for us.

CODENAME: SNUKI

Welcome to the Jungle (Snuki's Playground)

Today was the day (Wednesday). Mano y Mano. Man vs. Machine. Me and the Whacker. I was going to string that puppy if it was the last thing I did today. I got online. I downloaded a pdf of the instruction manual for this model. And I got a tool. Tools are incredible; what I was unable to do with my own hands at phasers set to kill, I was able to do with stun strength. I happily removed the bumper knob and commenced to inspect the interior winding apparatus (or spool according to the manual). I prepped for battle, armed with whacking line (neon green), scissors, the machine + parts and the manual. I watched youtube instructional videos, read the instructions for double and single line threading. I tried the double. My intellect failed me at step 8. Then I found my salvation in the black pitch of the tumultuous battle, a ray of hope bursting through the clouds, a beacon of deliverance on line 4, paragraph 5, page 12. "Double line weedeaters can employ the single line threading technique." My resolve increased; I set my face toward the single line technique, heart pounding with anticipation at the end of the battle and the end of the war, much like Aragorn at the Black Gates when Sauron's tower fell. I began the technique, began again and once more, finally, reattaching the inner spool with spring and bolting the bumper knob in place. Having reforged the shards of Narsil naming it anew Anduril, I walked outside and faced the Death Marshes of the backyard.
A liter of gas, 30 feet of line and 2.5 hours later it is finished, the battle is over. Victory is mine (for now).
Snuki loved it. She had a whole yard to roam and sniff and... She spent a good while just touring the newly regained territory. She rolled and kicked the grass up, marked it as hers and made little brown monuments all over as a sort of victory expo.
Marina and I prepared (okay I watched and wrote down the recipe) entomatadas. We feasted; it was delicious. We chilled until Bible study time.
It was during this chill time that I heard about the chaos in the city (not really chaos but definitely unrest). Jose called and told me about an interview he had given at a bus stop to a reporter and a camera man (he made the news that night). The topic was the increase in the bus tariff. The price had gone from 4.5 pesos to 7 pesos. This is the transportation of the majority of the people particularly the lower economic class (of which Kimb and I are very much a part). There were blockades of most major intersections in the city as a protest, no violence but definitely a clear message. The bus company raised the rate without approval of the government. So come time to leave Kimb and I got a taxi and paid 50 pesos to go to the park close to Soledad's house where the Bible study is. Normally it would only cost us 16 pesos but because of the blockades, it was a longer trip, and he took us directly without picking up anyone else. Dropping us off, he offered to take us back for the same price, but I told him we didn't know when exactly we would be done and ready to return, so we parted and went to the study.
Esperanza, abuelita and Soledad were there, the others couldn't make it because of the unrest. We sang a few songs and I shared the story of Peter that I had given last summer to the youth at the coffee shop. It was really encouraging to help them see parts of scripture as a story with human beings and emotions, relationships, moments of doubt and hurt, of faith and confidence. Peter's story has it all. It is by far my favorite to share.
We parted afterward and took to the streets. I had no idea the condition of the transportation. It was close to 9 when the buses stop running, and with the protest I didn't know how many taxis would be available for Tule. So I stopped the first taxi I saw. He said 100 pesos to Tule, I offered 70, he stood firm. I took it. Better to be home in Tule than stranded over night in the city. This type of taxi is normally more expensive anyway because it is a direct route taxi much more similar to those in the States. The others run routes similar to the buses and stop to pickup more people. Of course, we pass the place we normally get on a bus and there was one for Tule. Even with the price jack we could have paid 14 pesos instead of 100, but he got there much faster than the bus would have.
So at the end of the day, we were $12 shorter than before, but Snuki had a playground, we had a Bible study and a place to lay our heads.

Tuesday's with _______.

We stayed home. It rained. We drank copious amounts of coffee. (You're welcome (I know your poor bloggled eyes are thanking me)).

Swingers, Showers, Show-offs and Sweetness

It's Monday (not really but just play along) and that means: Fronton. We didn't know if we would be able to go to play because we might have need to spend the day gathering supplies for the forth coming coast trip, but we decided to go anyway because there was a shadow of a doubt about our trip (for the dimensions of this shadow think about a cloud spanning from the Yucatan peninsula to the west coast of Mexico that would cast a shadow (and rain) for 100's of miles and essentially donate a weeks worth of rain to our getaway spot). Fronton it is.
We missed Alberto but Jose was still there so we got our warm-up in our usual spot and waited our turn on the court. Swingers.
Enter Alejandro, guy says he met Jose once before here at the courts, Jose doesn't remember but seems like a nice enough guy and besides Mike was going to come around 12:30. Show-off.
We finally got on the court and were going to play a couple of games just for fun and exercise, however with the racket and ball in the hands of Lefty (Alej) it was show time. Unfortunately you have met the type and I am not one to stereotype because I have dreadlocks and have never smoked anything illegal, but you know this guy. He's not very good, but an expert on the game, ready to give instruction to anyone who misses a shot; he doesn't put forth any effort to make a shot that requires movement, if it doesn't come directly to him for a kill shot you were supposed to get it. Any shot he takes must be the epitome of professional level difficulty (where, more than likely, you will miss costing your team 10 points (and the game goes by 1's to 15)). And finally the most ultimate example, playing in the back he shots a rocket toward the front wall hitting Jose in the cheek/eye region (his teammate at the time). What does he do at this point? He hustles (okay I'll give him that) over to tell Jose how to properly hold the racket when playing in front so he does get hit in the eye, while Jose is waiting to regain his vision. Classic! I couldn't believe this guy, if I hadn't known others like him in the States then I would have thought he was an anomaly of Mexico. I switched to play with Pa-cha so Jose could have a break and maybe enjoy playing for a bit; after a bit more effortless play by Wonder-Bro he had to leave asking us if we would be back tomorrow. I said that would be highly unlikely. Miguel never showed. It started to rain. Shower.
We went to the caseta.
Gerardo and Alma Rosa were there; we were hoping to give Claudia the baby hat Kimb had crocheted but she wouldn't be back until after her baby came, so we entrusted it into the care of the Bosses. We talked Mexican breakfast since this morning Marina had taught me how to make enfrijoladas. We parted in the rain and headed for Esperanza's restaurant for a late lunch.
Gourmet food as always, and Kimb was in desperate need of a journal; she was about to finish the one she was writing in and panic mode was becoming an option. I can somewhat understand because she has been keeping a journal since she was 11. Telling Jose we needed to go get one he kept saying, "I have a gift." Well, when dessert came (hot pancakes with cream) Kimb got a new journal from Jose. It is beautiful leather, with a Bible verse at the bottom of every page. She was very grateful.
We split up after lunch and Kimb and I found paradise. You see, there was a reason Jesus said I am the bread of life, not the rock, not the coat, not the sky, but bread. We found the bakery San Fransisco and it was the joint. Doughnuts fresh, sweetbread fresh, sweetbread with cream fresh, chocolate cover muffin fresh. Sweetness.
Why don't we have such bakeries in every city in the world?!?!?!
We bagged some paradise, caught a bus home, ate pizza (homemade of course by my wonderful wife), played games watched X-Men, Did Our First Set of Push Ups in the 100pushup workout, and eventually went to sleep thinking about the beach.

Sunday Sermon

Taxi. Church. We thought about having the group over for pizza but we hadn't been able to go to the grocery store, besides, there was something else on the menu that Jose had mentioned yesterday. Amor (one of the sisters from the church), wanted to speak to the jovenes group after church. In class we sang songs with the adolescentes, it went okay; it's hard to remember the old tunes with Spanish words.
For whatever reason, I felt strange and apprehensive about this little event. I had no idea what she was going to talk about and I felt as a sort of guardian for the group, like whatever they hear about Scripture should be passed by me first (oh boy my first power trip!). Amor shared some of her story. It was powerful, the whole emphasis being an encouragement to pray more often with each, get together and praise more often, be more intimately involved in one another's spiritual walk. I sat down and shut up. Internally I was so embarrassed at the unfounded skepticism and sense of authority I had felt toward this time. I am shamed by the humility of my sister baring her heart and sharing some of the struggles of her life in order to speak to a group that she knows better than I do. What an incredible and uncomfortable lesson to learn.
We made it home and had plans to go for coffee with our neighbors, Gerardo and Bella Sara. I took a nap. We walked down the mud road to their house where they both greeted us. We sat down in the living room to chat with Bella Sara while Gerardo finished up a few things. We got a quick tour of the house and got in the truck to make a run. We talked about lots of things, our future plans, how we met, our interests, our time in Oaxaca. They took us to an overlook of the city up on the side of a mountain next to the road. The sun was setting and the city was waking up, lights coming on illuminating the network of veins and arteries. We stopped at the Italian Coffee Company (a branch very similar to Starbucks), and got a table outside. We ordered and chatted more. I asked about their work and they shared. Like all good Mexican evening outings, it ended with one final stop: the taco stand. We ate 8 tacos (5 and 3 off course) arracheras, grilled to perfection, salted with lime, chilled with guacamole and flamed with picante. It was delicious even if it was one and half too many.
The drive back was interesting and probably the most important. We continued talking about this and that, but they could get over how young we were. They asked us to guess their age and we both said late 20's. Gerardo is in his early thirties and Bella Sara in her late thirties. I couldn't believe it, they look much younger and have (what us young people would call) a youthful swagger (or manner) about them. They asked us how many kids we wanted to have and Kimb said 5, I just agreed. They opened to us how they weren't able to have kids but had thought about adopting. Bella Sara asked about God's role in all of this both with her not being able to have kids and the prospect of adoption. I tried to emphasize that God knows more than we do and has a perfect timing to events and plans (as we will see in later posts), we must trust and work where we are and with what we have. I also tried to encourage them with the perspective of sharing the good things they have in life. They are a couple who love each other, have a beautiful home, good jobs and a puppy that is full of energy. Could it be a wonderful thing for a child who had none of these things to be blessed with a family who does and who would more importantly love and provide for them consistently? It was just some thoughts and perspectives for them that Kimb and I share, and I could tell Bella Sara was grateful and would take them to heart in consideration. We said goodbye, having had a wonderful time, with promises to do it again soon.

Count this Treasure a Bugs Life

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I keep dreaming weird things. Sometimes I can associate a dream with some occurring of the day or with some reoccurring theme in life, but there are also those dreams that just seems like they have nothing to do with anything, and are just plain weird. Lucky for you those can be shared another time. The two of interest here fall into the "reoccurring theme" category. For a few nights in a row I have been dreaming about bugs. I would like to consider myself well adapted to the insectial and arachnoid creatures we share an earth with. And maybe my family would disagree, but I don't tend to worry excessively about bugs in the house or having to shake spiders out of your shoes. I would consider myself to have an "ignore and be ignored" relationship with most multi-legged creatures of infantile size. I don't particularly like to be crawled on, jumped on, bitten, or met with the unmistakable crunch of demolished exoskeleton (but these aren't all distastes unique to just bugs (actually only the exoskeleton crunch would be unique to bugs)). But I dont tend to overreact (purposefully relative) if said occurrences, well, occur. Life here is quite a bit more buggy than most of my daily existence has been, and yet I find that there are really only two bugs I would greatly prefer to do without. Enter Don Roach and Mosquito. Now in my dreams things tend to be much larger than life, I can't run or walk or move without feeling that laden by concrete feeling, and all vocal abilities seem to have escaped me. These dreams have been no different. In the first, I am at this Oaxacan house, alone, when a roach the size of a small dog starts to run across the hall towards our bedroom. In the second, there are giant mosquitos wearing my tennisshoes preventing me from escaping the house. What a relief that these are just dreams - or are they?

Zach is really quite adept at planning fun activities for the groups here. The only problem we seem to have to hurdle are spreading interest to a wider population, and starting things on time. Zach has been wanting to watch "The Count of Monte Cristo" again for quite some time, and thus planned a movie night for the youth and college group. We left the house around 1ish to meet Jose at the church building so that we could make sure the projector would work and still have plenty of time to go in search of the movie. Jose arrived shortly after we did, and we figured out (in a round about way) that Jose's cousin could take us to blockbuster (where he had a membership) so that we could rent the movie (which would be in English with Spanish subtitles (in case you were wondering)). The projector plugged in and turned on fine, so we locked the building back up and headed to meet cousin. Via bus we arrive on the other side of town where Blockbuster is. Movies from the United States are very popular here, but are often given a different, more Spanish name. I found it was easier to try and recognize movie box covers than go by name, and so we started browsing. Thankfully things were somewhat organized, by genre, so we assumed our search wouldn't be to difficult. After a little while with no luck Zach decided to just have the guy at the front desk look up the movie in the computer. Fool proof. And the results, Blockbuster doesn't have the movie. A wave of disappointment was soon washed over by the need (pressed by time) to look for another selection. We browsed a few, weighed our options, tried to remember ratings, and finally settled on National Treasure. Those of you who have seen Nicholas Cage bring American history into a new light are probably nodding your heads in approval. Good choice right? Our only apprehension was the American national history wouldn't be as intriguing to the adolescents from Oaxaca as it was to us. But we decided to go for it anyway. We made a quick stop into the Soriana for some Skittles and Crunch, and then took a taxi back to the building. By this time it was only moments before Miguel would meet us with his computer (which would play the DVD (country disc encryption prevented Zach from using his old faithful). Miguel came, Jose left, Jose came back (with a torta (he was starving)). The movie worked, his computer hooked up nicely with the projector. Speed bump, the speakers weren't working. Jose, having finished his torta, fixes the speaker problem. Now we wait for the kids to start arriving. Only 20 minutes after our proposed start time the first one arrives. followed shortly thereafter by another, and then half an hour later by a few more. This is normal - culturally and everything. Zach and a few of the kids headed down the block for some refresco (Coke, Sprite, Fresca, and Lift (apple flavored soda)) and popcorn. A little while later they arrive back and we divy up the popcorn and pour drinks and start the movie. Before the movie was over there were 13 of us total. Not a bad turn out at all! Everyone said they really liked the movie, the projector worked great, everything tasted good, sounded good, felt good. It really turned out to be a good movie night.
After everyone had left we locked up the gate and headed to Miguel and Jose's grandma's house where Lulu was waiting to take us back to Tule. With the left over drinks in the trunk we made our way back to the house. As we were driving through Tule we noticed quite the affair going on in town. A fair in deed. After dropping off the drinks Zach and I decided to walk back into town knowing we wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. The fair is a Santa Maria of Tule celebration. An annual thing. We happened to come on the second night (of 7) There were all the different carnival rides and games you can think of set up around downtown - much like a fall festival - minus the fall (although it does feel kind of like fall here in the evenings). We walked past a huge scaffolding of fireworks and learned they were to be set off at 11 (only an hour from then). The bumper cars caught and held our attention for a little while. Zach drove, I got whiplash. We also observed a trampoline attraction where you are strapped in with a harness that has tension cables attached to it allowing you to fling way up in the air and do flips and stuff. We watched men dance around with paper mache cows that were shooting off fireworks on their heads, and then saw the huge fireworks. It was a loud and rowdy festival. Much laughter and many smiles, and with ringing ears we fell asleep.

What I learned on the Mountain

It's Friday; that means it's time to try again. Jose meets us at the house at 8 and we set off after coffee around 8:30. Familiar path to the base of the mountain. On the way I told Jose that I would like for him to correct me on every speaking error I made. He said to do likewise with his English. Then we stopped talking. Laughed. Then learned how better to use reflexives. We arrived with and searched out the path ahead. It seemed that a fence line ran straight up the mountain, while it did not have room enough for switchbacks it seemed to be the least dense in the foliage department. We made our way to the fence, through the fence and along the fence; until there was no fence. It had been a pretty good jaunt by this point and the terrain became steep; not that we were making our ascent at this point, but trying to make it to the mountain we would brave. At this point Kimberly opted to stay at base camp. It had been a tough row so far and the going was going, straight up. Jose opted to go his own way for a stretch as I advanced hugging the side of steepness. Kimberly positioned herself were we would be able to see each other for most of the ascent.
All I had going for me was that the plant life was no more than chest high; to describe the rest, everything was soaking wet, many barbed plants, bugs, gnats, stumps, rocks with loose morals, slippery slopes, mud and slick sticks. And sea shells? More on that later.
After a 15 minute jaunt forward into the wild, crossing a number of what could have only been the southern rear cleavage of the hills traversed, I heard a distant shout. Jose.
After doing a cross between George of the Jungle and the T-Rex off of Jurassic Park, Jose joined me on the South Butt (for all of you North Face fans) of the hill. We had at last come to the foot.
It's strange that one trip can have so many beginnings for here it was truly the beginning of our purpose: to reach the top. The going was difficult. I set myself to carry the camera (a personal rule) and toilet paper (in case their was toil to be let (see what I did there?)). Periodically my socks worked their way down my foot. This happened many times before reaching this point in the trip and I would like to provide further proof and evidence of the level of commitment Kimb and I share in our marriage for it was she who requested (after shoe and sock had run far away from anything resembling dry) that we trade socks since hers were longer. We did and I love her for it; nothing like trading wet socks to say, "I love you." And I know she does. Alas it was to no physical avail, however the sock itself provided better arch-support than my old shoes did (always a positive side). We climbed up and up, slipping, grabbing, being grabbed by bug and thorns. Every so often I would steady myself and turn to find Kimb, yelling or whistling to see if she was okay; she remained so. Jose and I walked together and my mind became occupied with the important and difficult task at hand. I studied my movements and decisions, thinking about terrain, nature and the path ahead. Brains have a funny way of making connections because this journey like many others experienced by many other people before became a metaphor for life. And I told Jose as much:

When you are falling backward making your ascent try grabbing the green lush plants that stick up. They will probably snap or give way because they are young and weak. Look to the root and find the old brown, woody stem; he is more likely to hold his ground and sustain you in your moment of need and desperation. There is much to be said for maturity and fast roots.

No matter how remote the location a path lay before us. It is often wise to follow the path, making the trail easier. No matter how difficult the situation and unlikely the circumstance you can find evidences of people that have gone along before you. Trust that, utilize that and leave a path behind you.

Be careful who you follow and how closely you follow them. An accidental slip or loose rock can cause unspeakable and irreparable damage. Always beware.

It is not so important to stay in the middle of the path. Sometimes the left is better than the right and vice versa. Don't be afraid to walk on the periphery utilize the best of both to make your path smooth and reasonable.

It doesn't take much distraction to slip and fall.

How far am I willing to go? When will I say here and no further? At what point will I stop giving? Why not the top? What reason is so justifiable as to renegotiate the terms of your primary and motivating goal? I say there is none.

I think about those in life who are near the summit almost there, their previous trial being unspeakable, the pains forgotten just by sheer numerical overload, yet here they stand mere paces from the top and they are eager to arrive; they look back down at the young ones with many emotions felt toward them as they know the journey ahead of the young one that the young one himself could not possibly know or predict. There will be difficulty, pain, frustration and despair. Yet with an encouraging shout down to those who would follow the old one bravely, with a new vigor in step press on and finish the task, scrambling headlong into the unknown of the top of the mountain catching a first glimpse of the mystery that is on the other side of the mountain.

To arrive is to be truly alive.

Jose and I arrived safely; we were able to peer over to the other side and see more mountains covered in green and white as the clouds neatly and fully crowned their crowns. It was nothing I hadn't seen before but I was seeing it as I never had before. How we see seems to be just as or more important than what we see. We rejoiced and took pictures, we prayed thanksgiving for safety thus far and for future safety in the descent. Then we took to the descent.
Kimberly had all but vanished; I could clearly see the spot where she was but could see nothing more than a white dot being her body enshrouded in my long sleeve shirt (no doubt protection from the local wildlife). The descent was perilous, too perilous (even for Sir Galahad), and to compound the issue, our legs were weak and supporting muscles badly in need of support. To lean forward was to embrace the end of the destination, forever. We slid and fell much; a stump found my forearm and gave me a good scrape and another caught my bum leaving a colorful tattoo that said something like "Look busy....." I found two shells that looked like they belonged to hermit crabs and successfully carried them down to safety. On further and secondary inspection I believe there may have been a healthy snail in residence though he had since moved out.
This ascent and subsequent descent total for the longest amount of time on this trip that Kimb and I had been a part. I desperately wanted to be with her, walk next to her and share the same space. It was a wonderful motivation to persevere and do so with diligence, confidence and caution. We made it and I kissed Kimberly. It is such a wonderful thing in life to have someone to kiss.
It was at this point, on the way back, that I realized it was Friday, Marina had come to clean the house and I had forgotten to leave the money out for her (because we pay her on Fridays). It was already 1 o'clock. We set a quick pace with hopes of encountering a taxi. Many we encountered but none cared to give us a ride or a look, one gave us a finger (not really, but it felt like it). So we continued on; I had a thought that God can certainly work it out to where I could call Marina and find her so I could give her the money, or that by some miracle she would still be at the house, plus previously I had told her I wanted to learn to make enfrijoladas and we were supposed to do that today. Ahhh, I got worked up there for a second, but finally I just let go, realizing things were beyond my control, and just set myself to making it home. And we did just that.
And Marina was still there. Life is wonderful. Warm bath, sandwiches, chilled, was introduced to the do lectures. Note: I highly recommend the do lectures; look up the website and listen to a few of the speakers. I have not listened to many yet, but I would definitely recommend that you listen to Alastair Humphries. Go to http://www.dolectures.com/ and click on the picture of the guy in the top right corner (Alastair) and then click play on the video screen directly above it and enjoy an inspiration to do life.
Isidro came later that evening and we (Jose and I) joined for the Friday night Bible study. It went well as we passed through a general study of NT. It's kind of funny in that one of them will read a paragraph of information from the study then pause, look at me and ask, "commentarios?" giving me the opportunity to go on a brief biblical rant about this or that throwing in the soup much of my Bible knowledge and some of the teachings of my esteemed professor's from Harding (particulary, Kyle Holton, Dale Manor, John Fortner and Scott Adair). The evening ended and Kimberly and I settled in to watch some X-Men and fall asleep. I thank God for that day.

Dia de Descanso, Diluvio, Decadence

Tuesday: dia de descanso (day of rest), some errands in Tule (40 liter bike transport + salsa).

Wednesday: emails galore, rained, got on the bus it was "Chipi, Chipi" (sprinkling). As soon as we got off of the bus Noah floated by. I've never seen rain like this in Oaxaca. Oddly enough our umbrella kept us dry from the mid-thigh up. The best part was definitely the trek from the road to our house in the dark with anywhere from 2" to 8" of mud. The study was good. Few were there because of the rain but we sang some and Kimb and I were able to share a couple of songs in english. It was a really uplifting time even though they wanted to talk about what sin is and does. Before I ironed everything out for them I listened a lot and was convicted more than I expected. We had hotdogs in a tomato and jalapeno sauce on a tostada. I slept well.

Thursday: we met Jose to go on a mission past the zocalo. It was a photo reconnaissance; failed (store wasn't open) but I did buy a poncho. We arranged to meet at Gerardo's house later that night with the family. By the bye, we had an extravagant breakfast with Esperanza at her restaurant. Memelas with papas con chorizo y quesillo plus eggs and champurrado (a corn water chocolate drink). We split up to meet Pedro at a restaurant in Tule La Sonora. We arrived and it was a rocking place in part because it was the Dia de los taxistas (taxi driver day). We order a parilla (grill) and received a small grill with hot coals and platter filled with a sorts of grilled meats (this was after porkrinds with tostadas, bean, guac, pico de gallo, salsa, and onion bulbs submerged in lemon juice). The host gave me a shot of mezcal to start and we went on engorging ourselves exploring the very limits of mass coexistence boarding on the collapse of all matter into a wormhole that would destroy the universe by setting time in reverse (a part of me (being the larger part) still prays that a wormhole would appear inside me and clean me out). We made it to Gerardo's were we further satiated what could no longer be described as hunger or thirst, with coffee, refresco and another tostada (and did I mention the hot rice pudding?). All this food came within a 9 hour window. A fast may be on the menu for the weekend. We are returned all but clean and asleep.

Morning Breath

Why is it that one can shower and brush the teeth immediately before entering a cocoon of slumber, and yet still wake up with morning breath fit only for the queen of the dead?!? Apparently this is simply one of those "facts of life." Everyone has it, the elephant breath wake up call.

We brushed our teeth.

And headed out the door rackets in hand to play fronton. En route to the bus Zach looked over at me, an almost sorrowful concern in his eyes, and said - "I wish my armpits would stop waking up with morning breath." Its a hard life.

Once we made it to the courts we warmed up a little and waited for the squeegy experts to finish sweeping the rain off the court. Somehow we managed to stake a claim on the court, although there were other people standing around. And once it was dry enough to perhaps be relatively certain we would not face certain death (by slipping), we started getting a feel for things. Jose and Zach decided they would play against Alberto and I. We had no sooner determined these teams, when Jose sent a ball whizzing straight towards Zachs head. Somehow, by means unknown to me, the ball missed his skull and sent his heart racing. "Play ball." (Alberto's second favorite phrase of the day) We had some pretty decent runs with 7 or 8 hits back and forth between teams. I managed to play defense fairly well, by always finding myself right in the line of where the ball was flying and where either Zach or Jose was running to come hit it. There were only a few minor collisons with no sustained injuries. At one point Jose hit a whiz-banger straight into Zach's left calf, and a few plays later, another one right into Alberto's right kidney. Not very long after that he hit one clear out of the park - over the 45 foot wall into the cemetery next door. We had two back ups waiting so play wasn't stopped for long. Im not sure who won. But after maybe an hour Jose and I rotated out so that Zach and Alberto could play with some guys who had been standing on the out-of-bounds line obviously eager for their turns. These gentlemen were older. One was a spitting image of Dr. Hopper, and I knew if looks were a cue then this would be a fun round.
While the game got started Jose and I decided to go hunting for the lost ball over the fence. Before things got too interesting. We made our way back out to the parking lot, around the mosquito lake that has been fermenting for quite some time, and to the 12 foot rock wall. In some places there were shards of broken glass sticking out of the wall (which was maybe 8 inches thick) to deter kids like us from jumping into the graveyard probably. We found a patch of the wall where we were relatively sure there wasn't any glass, and by a good stroke of luck, a shorter wall to step up onto for a boost up. Jose went over first and told me "This isn't a good place, you should stay here and wait for me" I kicked my way up the wall and perched myself on top to await his return. Just a few minutes later he emerged from out of the forest (of trees, grass, weeds and tombstones) victorious. The lost yellow ball was safe in his hand. He looked up at me, handed me the ball - which I took as my signal to jump down out of the way. My feet had barely touched the ground when Jose called out "HELP!" I hurried back up and saw him sort of climbing, sort of crouched, desperately clinging to the wall. I reached out for his hand and pulled him up to where he could get a better foothold and his other hand on the top of the wall. He made it the rest of the way just fine. By this time Zach and Alberto had begun quite the fight against their new opponents. As Jose and I came back within sight of the court the ball Alberto had just hit came sailing towards us and landed on the roof that is over the bleacher like seating just outside the courts. They motioned for us to see if it would bounce down on the other side. We watched and waited and it didn't. I walked towards the makeshift ladder (it is really just a steel support beam with 4 inch pegs sticking out of it (like a telephone pole)) and put my head below one of the pegs to look around the beam and ask if they wanted me to climb up and get it. I found out they didn't and drew my head back and somehow landed the little cleft at the bottom of my right temple directly - full force - into one of the pegs. There was a weird crunching sound (my teeth clamping together - thankfully my tongue was nesteled safely inside away from them) and then a searing pain shot out of my temple bringing that stinging feeling to my nose, the hot feeling in the back of my throat, and tears to my eyes. Its a good thing they didn't want me to climb. I brought my hand to the side of my head to make sure there wasn't any blood (there wasn't) and just backed away slowly - so as not to bonk into anything else. You see, this is actually my second time to hit my head since being here in Mexico. The first time we were walking down the sidewalk, and I ran face first right into a little electrical meter box. My forehead's first thought was "OWWW!!!" followed closely by "why would anyone put that at eye level" followed shortly by the realization that actually eye level for me was well above the heads of most everyone else and out even out of reach for some. Circle back to fronton now. I walked back onto the court and sat down for a drink. Nothing in my head is broken - at least nothing that is visible. ;) There is a pretty colorful little bruise and it is still really tender to any touch. The ball was recovered - Jose climbed up to get it, and after coming back down to sit by me he told me "I think I might just do more climbing than playing today."
Alberto and Zach won one game and lost another. Then Dr. Hopper's look alike wore out and a younger fellow stepped in. Alberto bowed out so that Jose could have another round. After Jose managed to launch two balls (one practically to the moon and into the cemetery, the other right on top of the concrete wall balanced perfectly in front of the chain link (that goes up even higher to keep more balls inside) out of play, we called it good for the day and headed out. We stopped by the caseta (post workout replacement for those boys) and then walked to the Llano to check out the possibility of tickets for a show at the live theater. Jose headed home and we caught our bus to Tule.
Upon returning, quite ready for a good shower, we discovered that the water tank was empty and showers would have to wait until after 9 or 10 when we could turn the pump on. My digestive tract was feeling a bit uneasy (it has since Saturday - felt kind of upset - up high approximately where the large and stomach might be located) so I opted for a nap. We rested and much later cooked some tasahoe for dinner. After blogging we turned on the pump and then were able to shower and got all tucked in.

Unleavened life

This is my second time tonight to type this entire thing. The first one somehow didn't publish, and didn't save. How defeating.

Saturday night was loud and long and yet rest alluded me for what seemed like hours. Somewhere relatively close to here there was a happenin' party. That joint was jumpin. All night one continuous song played. The kind of upbeat Mariachi you might dance to, workout to, or in this case, lay awake to. Sprinkle in a few (by a few I mean a few every 3 or 4 seconds) fireworks (the kind expected on the fourth of July) shot off so close the windows would rattle, and the never ending chorus of dogs in protest of the loud noises. It was a night to remember.

Sunday came and by a grace and strength only divine, I was energized and ready for the day. I was excited to take my first batch of communion bread to the assembly. It is neat to have been entrusted with something so important to the fellowship. Zach had the opening prayer, so we made sure to be early (even by standards in the U.S.) Which landed us there before even the chairs had been set out. We helped and greeted and as I located a seat with one to save for Zach, a boy from the youth group joined me. He is a really nice kid - just turned 15 on Thursday. We talked - he talked slow enough that I could understand and respond - and apart from accidentally telling him I had been to a Red Hot Chili Peppers concert, I don't think I made any big mistakes. He comes every Sunday alone, his parents don't go to church. We sat together and then Zach joined us. Neither Zach's prayer nor my communion bread disrupted anything. After worship Zach took the youth group to the class room and had a short class about the Crucifixion and Barabbas being traded for Jesus. The Son of God for the "son of god."
After class we invited Pedro and Miguel to come over later for pizza. Jose wanted to watch me make pizza and probably wanted to eat it even more than that. Zach and I set off in the direction of the grocery. We needed mozzarella, pepperonis, sauce, vegetable oil, and yeast. This proved to be quite a difficult task. The standards of customer service are much different here than at walmart or kroger in the states. In fact, the cheese lady gestured that the cheese was "probably over there" and the lady over there disagreed saying it would definitely be "over there." Over there we found a lady who nodded and came back a moment later with deli meat in her hand. Oops, we wanted cheese. Disappointed she took her meat back and pointed back "over there." This is the point in which the little kid inside of me just prayed that God would please make the mozzarella glow highlighter yellow (with no unfortunate side-effects). And we did find it. Right in front of the cheese lady. The vegetable oil and sauce were no hard task. The yeast however is, much like sleep, allusive. We ask and the guy tells us its on the shelf. Clearly it isn't, so we ask again. "If it isn't there, there isn't any" he tells us. We ask a kind and innocent by-stander who looks as though she might have bought yeast before. She tells us that sometimes they put it in the refrigerated section by the yogurt. Yogurt is unleavened here. We ask the lady working by the yogurt and she tells us to try a bakery down the road a few blocks. We check out and head down the road. When we enter the bakery and ask for some yeast. The lady kind of chuckles and tells us that they bake bread here, but they don't sell things to make it. She tells us that we should go to the supermarket up the road a few blocks. Zach explains to her that is where we just came from and the dilemma we had there. With sympathy in here eyes she excuses herself to consult with a co-worker. After a moment she asks me how much we need, and disappears to the back. In the few moments she is gone, Zach is overcome by the sweet smells and begins hunting for a few selections. We make our purchases, and the half-cup of yeast she has brought out for us only costs us 10 pesos. I assure Zach that is cheaper than anywhere else - perhaps in the whole world. We catch a bus and make it home, only to turn around and go to town for some lunch. We eat at a nice restaurant in Tule that Zach tells me "has authentic Mexican food in an environment Americans can trust" The food is good. So is the nap after. When I wake up almost two hours have passed and our guests have arrived. I start the dough, knowing it will take an hour to rise. We play guitar hero and watch youtube videos and I manage to keep the hungry, nosy, and impatient hands out of the rising dough...for the most part. While waiting for the dough I decide to try my hand at Grandma Caton's brownie recipe again. The batter turns out "perfectly" Zach says. I am wary about cooking them knowing the wrestle the oven and I had last time. But I have plenty of time to figure out the right place to turn the dial to have the thermometer stay at 350 while I am rolling out the dough. Sauced, cheesed and pepperonied, I put the first pizza in. After it comes out I pop the second one in (having had the foresight that just one batch would not be enough) Hardly before the hot pan is carried to the table, the boys devour the entire thing. The assure me that it is delicous - even though they squirt ketchup all over it. The second one suffers the same fate with only one slice saved for Pedro and Miguel to take home to Lulu. The brownies go in and come out and look great! I am excited to have had such a successful baking day. It looks as though the rest of the gang is happy and content. Jose having beat a few songs on expert, Pedro having shown us some quite hilarious youtube videos and. It turns out to be a good night. The brownies are a real hit, and much to Zach's approval there are plenty left over for later.

Mexican 2 Second Rule

Saturday: the day after Friday. We put everything on chill. I made some phone calls stateside and worked on our future. The plan was to have a little bonfire at the church and play some soccer with the young kids and college group. That was the plan. It was a good plan, an exciting plan, a plan for the ages. How many plans have you made in Mexico? Mice don't even live here they get so discouraged. Jose showed up; after an hour of waiting and fire building, he came strolling through the gates. I was so glad to see him. Strangely I wasn't frustrated or upset, I had thought of a lesson to share with the group while we ate tacos having played soccer and preparing to roast marshmallows. It didn't happen. Jose and I pitched around a large particle-board disc that look like a mix between Capt. America's shield and Mr. Mint's candy canes (the guy from Candyland (right you knew that)). We roasted/burned/consumed so mallows and decided to head for a taco stand. It was a one-night taco stand; though I remembered it from my previous visit and the alambre called "No te entumas" (don't make yourself torpid (use that word today)). It was marvelous, though soft drinks in a bottle are not enough, it was a liter size bottle but there were only 355ml; I prefer plastic.
While roasting mallows I got the chance to talk to Jose a bit; his grandmother is very sick and his family is very worried. I don't know if it is so fair that I had the same unfortunate situation this very spring. I still don't have any answers for him (or for me), but I was able to encourage him to be an encouragement to his family as best he could even if it just meant being there. It is interesting that we can most readily and simply identify with people who suffer in ways similar to us. It was also during the roast that Jose dropped a mallow on the ground, quickly grabbing it exclaiming, "Two-second rule". This struck me as we generally allow 5 or even 10 seconds in our own sterile abodes but being outside and in another country I think 2 seconds is generous (though I myself wouldn't have hesitated to consume that lovely roasted, pink strawberry (oh yeah) marshmallow). We made it home and to bed, hoping I wouldn't over sleep and miss the opening prayer (because I was supposed to be praying it).

Wednesday, Wine Phoo, and Sal de Gusano all rolled into one

Wednesday:
We worked out. Body weight lifting. I can't really remember what else we did. Attempted to hurdle school obstacles. Came into town in the evening for bible study again. After the study Domino's pizza was ordered. Domino's has the same recipe here in Oaxaca as in the states - if you wondered. Something a bit different however, delivery comes with katsup packets. Yep, the little ones like you get with McDonald's fries. There are no crushed red peppers, no parmesan cheese. Just red tomato paste... oh and salsa. EVERYONE puts katsup on their pizza. Hawaiian is very popular too. It must be the tropical climate. We also had coffee and pan (bread). Esperanza, one of the women at the study, owns a little restaurant in town. She invited Zach and I to come eat breakfast Thursday morning. We made our plans to be there around 9 or 9:30.

Thursday:
We made our way into town for breakfast. Expecting a good meal and then perhaps a short jaunt around the city. We had a few things we wanted to do. Visit the leather shop, check out shows and times at the Benito Jaurez Theater at the Llano, and pick up some fruit to take home. We had to stand for most of the bus ride - holding onto the overhead handles like in the movies. The bus was full of kids on their way to school. Back to school already. As we walked up the sidewalk to the resturaunt, we saw Alberto and his wife approaching from the opposite direction. They were also en route to the resturaunt for breakfast. We decided to congregate at the same table and dine together. They asked us about our plans for the day, and upon finding out we didn't have too much going on, invited us to let them show us a few things Oaxaca is proud of that no one had shown us yet. The first was to be ice-cream and little cookies. But since we had just eaten we planned to part ways for a few hours and then meet up at the Theater. Zach and I went to the leather store, and then to a sports equipment store where we purchased some balls for Fronton. We made our way to another fabric store and bought some soft green yarn to make a hat for Claudia's baby (the girl who works at Gerardo's Caseta is going to have a baby boy this month).
As we walked down the street I (the linguist) became intrigued, puzzled and somewhat frightened by the scrawling on a sign. It said "Wine Phoo Guarderia". I didn't know if this was some kind of secret hybrid Italian/Asia eatery or if they were guarding some sort of fermented Phoo. It was then that I heard the faint cries of children from with the metal gates. Shouts and screams of terror, or wait, no, laughter. It was then I knew it was the world being guarded from the children within and that it was none other than the infamous Wine Phoo (a.k.a. Winnie the Pooh although probably a ninja variant) who would keep them from destroying the planet. Whew, glad I got that straightened out.
We then went to the Llano and still had a bit of time to kill. Zach has been wanted to get his shoes shined - especially since the poo-shoe episode. We found a nice gentleman (they aren't hard to come by) who was ready and able to work on the shoes. Zach is addicted. He said it felt like a great foot massage, and bonus - the shoes look great - and smell infinitely better. While being shined I read about the push to legalize mary jane, a new passage being discovered at Teotihuacan, the trash picker uppers (I mean waste management engineers) going on strike in the city, the Oaxaca Guerreros baseball and their series in the playoffs and a number of other strikingly interesting things. Then, at last, I put aside my periodical and beheld the pair, a brilliant black the quintessential opposite of the radiant sun; I clicked, I walked, I tapped and I smiled. And I tipped the man 33%. Life is good.
We checked out times, locations and prices for the theatre, looks like a feasible option for next week. Exiting the entrance (or the exit) Alberto and his wife were there, so we hopped in and rode downtown to the cathedral called La Soledad. The hot spot for ice cream.
The plaza is located right next to some government offices so I got to walk past the news. Upwards of 100 guys were hanging out, gambling, sitting, staring. We past through all but visually unmolested. We sat down and began to decipher the menu. There were over 30 flavors to choose from. Kimb ended up with Carmel and Pecan. I, of course, ordered "the special" (no doubt containing some sort of native insect, worm or other semi-edible life form (intentionally or non)). Just kidding, it was a marvelous blending of ice cream with fruit chunks that tasted incredible; I will remember this place.
After ice cream and 10 different kinds of sweet bread, we piled into the car and went to San Bartolo Coyotepec, home of the world famous black pottery. I had previously been, but it is still worth going and having a go at the various wares. We found a number of tempting items, but succumbed (weird, I wanted to say succame) to none. We returned to Esperanza's for lunch (taquitos). It was again, delicious. We took a dive on coffee, saying we would do it another time; we caught the bus to Tule with preparations needing to be made for tomorrow's plans.
I cut the grass. Then I ran out of weedeater wire. I cannot determine how to put more on. This, no doubt, will be the stuff of legends, an epic battle between man and his creation, enshrined forever in the annals of the chronicles of the highest council of some synthesis between Olympus, Valhalla, Heaven, Nirvana. It's going to be big.

Friday:
We woke up. (I wrote that so you would know the following is not a dream). We ate hurriedly and took up our rackets making for the bus, balls in hand. We arrived at the fronton courts with a little over an hour to become experts. The court was inundated but there was enough of a dry spot for us to play a section of the wall.
I don't care what kind of propaganda they want to use to promote Gatorade as a post-workout replacement formula, nothing will ever come close to competing with the nutrition or flavor of a torta from Gerardo's caseta. Can't happen. I'm going to start at Harding advocating they replace the Gatorade in the buckets on the sideline with fresh hot tortas. I'll make millions (dollars not tortas).
We went to the bank and then to Pochote (the organic market) with Alberto. We tried Tejate a chocolate etc drink. We found some cool coffee mugs with saucers. It was at the mezcal stand that Kimb went native. Not in the over-consumption of the stout sample shots (not even partaking in one though the smile old man behind the counter who had no doubt been sampling samples would have probably given her a liters worth of sample just because she has the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen; instead he gave me the samples, he even resampled me, nice fellow) but in the tasty salt/chili/? and lime. I tried it first and it was quite good and encouraged Kimb to have a slice of the lime. I DID NOT KNOW WHAT WAS IN IT. There that should clear my name of any wrong doing or other nefarious action. She really enjoyed it beginning to reach for a second, when I heard Alberto say a word "gusano" and begin to elaborate on the process by which this salt is produced. I did catch any about the fabrication because I had just been slapped in the face with a verbal gusano. You see, a gusano is not just any innocent earthworm it is the death worm in the dregs of the tequila bottle, it's the fat little bloated sucker who had to much fell in drowned and then invited all of his friends to join. Don't worry he had been baked and ground up being mixed then with salt and chili powder. I didn't have to tell Kimb... but I would miss out on the greatest reaction this side of the border. So I told. Curtly put, she did not finish her reach for a second.
In fact, my stomach rose up into my throat just thinking about the grub pieces I had just ingested. I don't know whether it is satisfying or terrifying to say that it actually tasted really good. The thought of it turns my stomach a little still however...
We really enjoyed the organic market, and after we were done there made our way to the family tortilla shop. They turn out tortillas by the thousands. The machine is fast and very precise. In the 3 and a half minutes that we were there I bet they sold 250 tortillas to people stopping by. Tortillas around here are really tasty. They are made with corn flour, but don't taste like the ones we buy in the stores. I don't know what the difference might be. Perhaps the lack of Oaxacan sweat. After the tortilla factory we had only 3 hours until we were supposed to be at the church for the bible study. It didn't seem very efficient to take a bus all the way home just to turn around and come all the way back again, so we opted to go back to the church and take a nap in the upstairs portion of the classroom building. There are three bedrooms up there with beds and sheets, so we camped out for a while. About an hour before the study we went back to the Caseta and had tortas and talked with Claudia and Alma Rosa. On our way back to the church we stopped in a little convenience type store and had an ice-cream bar. It was my favorite yet. Better than any Schwans I have ever had. The study seemed to go well, I worked on the baby hat since I am not really a part of the men's bible study. After the study Alberto and his wife took us home and the gang (Pedro, Miguel, Jose and Pedro's girlfriend) came in just behind us. I learned how to make Chocolate (a hot chocolate drink) and guacamole Oaxacan style. We ate tostadas and had our tasty drink and played Jenga and listened to music and talked and laughed. Somehow we got to saying hakuna Matatta. Apparently my pronunciation is quite improper, and Miguel was sure to teach me that it is not "MataDUH" but MataTA" We laughed as I sang the song in english and simultaneously he sang the Spanish lyrics. I will have to be sure to learn that one.

Yesterday

Yesterday was exactly that; lock-down closed story, no adventure; Harrison Ford episode V.
We stayed at the house. Jose thought he would come over so Kimb could watch Rocky (her not having seen a single installment of the series, according to Jose, was both irresponsible as an American and incomprehensible). He didn't; come over that is, plans change, no problem. We had breakfast: granola, yogurt, fruit, cereal and something else I'm sure. We tried to catch up on our blog writing after an adventuresome weekend; we went and purchased tortillas and tasajo (a type of meat, not sure what kind). A kilo and half of tasajo is a lot of meat (I am excited to eat most of it; grilled is the preferred method of cooking). Kimberly informs me it is beef (but from what part? (Ha!)). I thought about mowing the lawn (with the weedeater remember?). Instead I purchase a 20 liter bottle of water that fits perfectly snug inside the baby seat on Jorge's bike. Note: if you happen to be transporting a baby filled with 20 liters of water on a bike the inertia of the water baby will throw off the balance of your vehicle when turning. Also note that if the carrier is located in the rear, popping a wheelie is much easier and likely.
We charged our way through X-Men almost completing the first season (there are only 13 episodes and each is only 17 minutes long). After dinner (grilled tasajo), we ate Oreo's, drank coffee and watched a movie.

I accomplished a lot in the way of school. I found out about an abundance of speed bumps in the way of registering for classes, some of which I jumped right over, some of which still remain to be conquered. I sent emails, made phone calls, and got registered for one class and one lab. The day was a good rest time, and the movie - Clash of the Titans was really good.

Hotter Than the Inside of a Wolf Mouth

We got off to a little bit of a late start, not because we slept too long, but because we spent too long just dilly-dallying. We thought for sure everyone would be waiting for us once we got to the church. As we came to the main road (off the dirt road the house is on), a bus drove by. Zach waved and whistled, and yet true to physics the mass in motion remained in motion. Zach looked at me and we took off running after it. I with my back pack flopping around. We chased that bus, and it didn't stop. Not even at the bus stop. We decided to try and run a straight route through town and beat it to the other side (it has to go around) But to no avail. We perched ourselves on some steps right on the road and waited. And waited. Finally a bus came. I was sure we were later than even Mexicanly acceptable. As we got of a few blocks from the church we could tell there was no one waiting for us. This made for a little bit of a predicament. I really needed to go to the bathroom (note for traveling on a bus. The stop and go and bumping and jarring really shakes up a full bladder). We had not brought the keys to the church and the shops on the street either don't have bathrooms or don't let you use them. The bus station is not far from the church, and Zach knew there would be a restroom there. We hightailed it up the road, up the stairs and to...the meter. Yes. It costs 3 pesos to use the restroom at the bus station. 3 pesos is very little in terms of money, but seems a big obstacle when the bladder is full, the eyes are floating, and the fingers are fumbling round the bottom of the back pack for some money. Entrance was successful. Another important note for travelers. If there is a thing on the wall by the sinks that looks like a toilet paper dispenser...it is. And you should get some, because that probably means there isn't any in the stalls. Before too long we were back on our way up the street to the church. At this point it was about 45 minutes after we were supposed to have congregated (ha) at the church. We returned and sat on the wall to wait. 10 minutes later Jose's uncle and his nephew walked up - they were coming with us, and said Jose was on his way. Then Miguel walked up. We all piled into the car and started to drive off to meet Jose at the courts right as Jose walked up. We piled Jose in on top of everyone else, and drove the few blocks to the courts. When we arrived both of the courts were occupied. But that gave a little bit of time for the rules to be explained and for some practice swings to be taken - with a tennis ball against a concrete wall. The game is a lot like racquet ball. Except it is outdoors (thus no ceiling) and one of the side walls is missing. The three walls that are present are probably 40 or 50 feet tall. There is a red line at the bottom and the top of the front wall that is considered a sort of foul line. Shots that hit below or above those lines respectively will not be counted and instead will turn the ball over to the other team. You can play singles or doubles. I sat with nephew Jose while Miguel, Zach and took some practice shots. Here are a few of my own practice shots (with the camera of course)


It really wasn't long until the playing began. The four men took to the courts and began getting a feel for an actual fronton ball and wall. The ball is very similar to a racquetball in its bouncing capabilities. There were a few shots that believe it or not sailed clear over the wall, but Nephew Jose was quick to retrieve them. We watched and laughed as racquets were swung, not connecting with anything, and the resulting momentum sending the swinger spinning. Once Jose tried to take Zach's head off. He ducked just in time as a ball went sailing right over his head - nearly giving a buzz cut in the process. The guys had what looked like a blast. 3 hours spent playing with hardly a water break says something for their enjoyment. While Nephew Jose and I were watching we chatted - in quite an interesting way. He understands a little bit of english, I understand a little bit of spanish, but neither of us speaks the others language very well. It was during these little conversations that I realized once again how universal the language of music is. (in this case not only because it is music, but because much of the music people listen to hear is whatever is popular in the States - Coldplay, Lady Gaga, Hannah Montana, U2, Black Eyed Peas, and Katy Perry are a few of his favorites.) We took turns naming songs and he even played a few on his phone for me. At one point he asked me if I like Shakira - I couldn't tell at first what he had said, and so he repeated it and then immediately burst into "Hips don't lie" complete with a 13 year old boy hip gyration. It was quite funny. I knew exactly what he was talking about after the demo. I went to get Zach some water but was half a peso short. He loaned me a half peso and I gave him the lone dime that seems to have made the trip with us. Not really a fair trade considering a dime can't be used here, but he was happy nonetheless.

Once everyone was too pooped to poop, (as Jose likes to now say) we headed to Gerardo's Caseta for some tortas. When we arrived, the whole family was there. Alma Rosa was working behind the counter, Gerardo was running tortas back and forth across the street to bus drivers, and Toti and his sister and her husband were hanging around watching and entertaining Ali (the baby grandson). He was still acting very shy, but we managed to snap a few pictures of him anyway.
Alma Rosa made us tortas with Milinesa, and we shared a Pepsi. It was a great lunch. We paid and were given bubble-gum as a treat. Mine was apple flavored, Zach's was banana. Miguel, Jose and Zach and I headed to the bus stop, chomping away on our gum. We caught a bus to Tule, they headed to their house. We took the afternoon to relax and read and watch a little bit of X-Men before getting ready for bible study.

Flor's husband Jose Luis and their son Pepe came to get us. We trudged a short ways through the mud to the car and began our ascent up the mud road. It wasn't very long before I cracked my window down and Zach did the same to his. Jose and Pepe seemed comfortable enough, but an exchanged glance between Zach and I confirmed our mutual thermometers agreed - it was unusually warm. A radiating heat - the kind you would expect from, well, a radiator, or perhaps the heater. We made it to the main road and turned left. Now this was also unusual. The only time we have turned left on this road was on our trip to Mitla and the ruins. A puzzled look from me spurred Zach into asking if we were picking up another brother for the bible study. Jose laughed and told us that no, we weren't, and he wasn't loosing his mind, but that if we went to the left we would encounter less topes. We trusted he probably knew best (having lived here for many years) and settled back into the sauna. I noticed a little bit of sweat running off of Zachs forehead, but it was still another 7 minutes before Jose asked Pepe (who was driving) if something was wrong because it was kind of warm. Something was indeed wrong...the heater was turned on. Jose laughed an commented that we must certainly think he was crazy. We were just glad for the heat wave to subside.
We made it to the study just fine and the delved into the excerpt from Ephesians. I was able to catch a bit of the conversation here and there, but spent the majority of the time reading through the book on my own and journaling. I was awakened to a fuller depth of a truth....

The study went well; it was a short discussion through Eph 5 and 6 about relationships and our need to submit. Their was good input from everyone and great pizza (homemade) to follow. Jose Luis asked me what the best way to understand the Old Testament was, and I sought to emphasize the importance of reading within the context, particularly in regard to the genre of the literature. I briefly talked about the different genres present in the OT and got to talking about Job. It seemed that none of them were familiar with the story; it was my great and lasting honor and privilege to introduce them to a book in the scripture. I talked about how important Job is as it seeks to explore the most common question known to mankind: why is there suffering. I read excerpts from the end when God responds in chapters 38 and following. They were very pleased to hear from a new text having been give some foundation and framework for studying it. Jose Luis looked me straight in the eye afterward and said he was going to read this book. There was an excitement there to hear God's Word; to participate in such an event is a crowning moment for me in my time here.
We did not stay as late as the first study and on the way home Jose Luis turned off the headlights for a brief second, bringing Flor to comment that the night was blacker than the inside of a wolf's mouth. She never did listen through my exhaustive explanation of black as pitch. We managed to make it to bed before midnight. Having awoken now on the other side it was my first night of undisturbed rest.

...a truth that God made evident to us in the creation of the world as a community and the church as the same. It is a neat thing to be able to communicate with the people around you. Something so natural when everyone speaks the same language, that we often find ourselves content in the silence of our own thoughts. It was here however, secluded in the silence of my own thoughts that I discovered my desire - or perhaps more correctly - need for feedback. Reading gives great stimulation to the mind, but through talking about what is being read is it possible that even greater understanding can be reached? Perhaps for this reason is why we are encouraged to meet together, worshiping, reading, and discussing with one another. I am more grateful that I have ever been able to be for the community of friends and family I have surrounding me.

Burgers, Brownies, Birds and Toy Butts

I woke up to a phone call; Jorge with a few messages for different people at the church. I've never tried to catch a bus on a Sunday morning and we were a few minutes late as a result. All of the younger guys that helped in the service did a great job, and while brother Tomas was preaching a baby bird fell from its nest in the ceiling striking the floor in the aisle. I have to say that at first I was pretty angry with God for allowing a baby bird to fall 20 meters and hit a tile floor, then I saw something miraculous. One of the sisters quietly got up from her seat, scooped up the small, featherless form and took it outside. There was no hit of disgust on her face for the life form she carried, no sense of distaste, but with a calm and steadfast compassion she bore the young chick outside. Thinking later I can appreciate the autonomy that animals have; God's creations being made and given their own free will as the sense and interact with this world in their own way.
I decided to combine the adolescent and jovenes class since there wasn't a teacher for either group, and we did a communication exercise and discussed context and how best we can communicate with other people. It is so hard to give directions for an exercise in Spanish, no matter how simple the objective, but once everyone understood they joined in well and contributed to the discussion.
After class their was a luncheon with chicken (though not fried), tortillas (of course), tuna salad (there had to be some somewhere) and salsa. Cold Coca-Cola and hot rice pudding rounded out the very tasty meal. We sat outside at tables eating and talking; even though we thought to have tortas at the caseta (because we didn't know about the luncheon even though it was announced several times), but we certainly didn't mind the good food and fellowship.
We hoped to go to the grocery store that afternoon and Lulu said she needed some things as well, so she and Pedro took us to the store and then home. We met Miguel, Jose and Isidro at home where the afternoon festivities began.
Burgers were on the menu and some charcoal was on the grill, after a few rounds of Guitar Hero, we lit the fire and seasoned the hamburgers. Kimberly made brownies for dessert.
Cooking here is a slightly different art. I had made sure to buy the things I needed for the brownie recipe I had, and had been taught how to light the gas oven. What I didn't expect was that the gauge on the dial would be completely inaccurate for the temperature inside, and that things would heat up, especially on the bottom, and fast. Once I got everything mixed I lit the oven to let it pre-heat. After one song on guitar hero I checked the thermometer that hangs from the top rack, and the oven was at 425! Way too hot! I turned the dial down and opened the door to let some heat out. The temperature dropped to 300. Too cold. I closed the door and went ahead and put them in. I watched them, and the thermometer closely. Within 2 minutes we were back up to 400. Too hot again. I turned the dial down some more and again opened the door. Back to 300. I closed the door. Up to 380. Turned down the knob, opened the door. Down to 325. Closed the door. Up to 375. And it went on and on. At one point the brownies looked like a huge brown cappuccino foam. I poked it down. As the 30 minutes neared and the knife came out clean I took the pan out. Things looked a little strange (probably from the foam mutulation stage) but didn't smell too bad. I let them cool for a good 20 minutes and then set into cutting them. The bottom centimeter was charred black. But it came off really easily, almost like a black sugar layer. I sliced up a few and handed them out. Despite my concern and apprehension the guys seemed to love them. Pedro had 3 before dinner, Jose told me I had created a new flavor, and Isidro told me they were delicious. Zach was very pleased as well (im not sure if it was because they were edible and he was just glad I wasn't sad, or if he has just been starving for something sweet and chocolate-ey since we have been here) They weren't all that bad. They tasted a little grainy but since everyone was happy I was happy. And like Zach says, things just turn out different here.
It was a nice afternoon, even though it started to sprinkle on us while we ate on the back porch complete with tiki torches. Some more guitar hero was played. La Grange in Conner's honor, and Magic Black Woman in Emy's. During the lapse of time between stardom, we began a brief discussion about tongue twisters. We told them about Peter Piper, they told us some thing that Pedro said so fast I couldn't have understood if I tried. And then Zach introduced the Toy Boat. This brought many smiles and laughter as we all tripped over the different sounds in the two words. Go ahead, try it. We made plans to meet Jose at the church building at 10:30 to go play fronton with Jorge's brother Alberto. I had seen it played once before and didn't know anything about it, but that's the name of the game in Mexico.