Having a good day

Today was a good day.

It contained all the elements that make for excitement and adventure. There was danger, uncertainty, clarity, live music, ancient art, cute men, ugly men, freezing cold, blazing sunshine, and a nice dollop of fate to bring it all together. Just the way I like it!

My day began normally enough, with freezing rain and classes at the University. Having absolutely no desire to crawl out of bed, I lamented (yet again) the lack of hot water that is prevalent in this country. To say the least, I wished the Governor would think to cancel classes yet again. In retrospect, I am glad everything worked out the way it did. Days like today are worth both the good and the bad. I find you appreciate the good more that way.

After an uneventful (but educational) morning, I headed off to El Museo Antropologia for an informational tour on Olmeca culture. I can't explain it, but being around some of the oldest artifacts on Earth (and the oldest in Northern America) really got my blood racing. Being surrounded by 3000 year old history is indescribable. It makes you feel so insignificant and alive all at the same time. We are so mortal, yet capable of so much. It is mind boggling really.

Meanwhile, it went from 50 degrees, overcast and raining to high 70's, cloudless and the warmest sunshine I have felt yet! Racing from the Museum after my class, I hopped the first bus that was headed (relatively) in the right direction. Normally I take great care before getting on a bus, as I do not like to be lost. In my haste, I didn't even think to check which specific bus route I was on. The consequent trip was well worth the uncertainty.

Although I almost immediately regretted my hasty decision, I was soon amused by one of the many bus performers I have witnessed thus far. He was an older gentlemen with sagging facial features, who staggered quite a bit when he walked. I believe he was profusely inebriated. Propping himself against a seat, he pulled out a beautiful little guitar and began madly plucking away with his fingers. The combination of his sweet voice and plucky tune soon caught my attention. Completely fascinated, I spent the rest of the bus trip marveling at how different things are in Mexico. The performance was very commonplace, yet felt so fresh compared to how things are back home. I wish every day could be filled with the haphazard makings of a musical.

The neatest part is that these bus performers don't have to pay to take the bus! What a neat idea! They can catch a free ride anywhere and make a few coins along the way! Note to self: use this trick when in need of free transportation and a few coins in local currency.

After the old man hobbled off the bus, I looked out the window and realized I was completely lost. I wasn't on a bus route I had ever taken before and I didn't recognize any street names or distinguishing landmarks. I had a sense of the direction we were heading in, but I was completely disoriented. Then out of the corner of my eye I saw some graffiti that looked familiar (I have an odd passion for photographing graffiti, I consider it public art). Just then the bus stopped to drop off some passengers and on a whim, I exited with them. Looking up and down the street, I felt completely lost. Heading in the direction of the graffiti, I attempted to discern anything recognizable. Turning down the street where I saw the graffiti, I lucked out by discovering a side street near where I live. Utterly relieved, I made my way back to familiar terrain. In a city filled with graffiti, what are the odds of that?

Reassured, I raced back towards campus to meet Luis. I was already about 45 minutes late and my ill-thought-out bus trek had taken me well off the beaten path. Dashing across el Calle Moctezuma (a cute little cobblestone street a few blocks from my house), I just barely noticed a taxi barreling down the street in the opposite direction. Something about the taxi caught my attention and I cautiously slowed down. Although I was on the sidewalk and in no evident danger, something didn't feel right. Then all of a sudden *BAM!*. Jumping in fright, I looked back and saw that the taxi had slammed into a mini-van trying to cross el Calle Moctezuma, where I had been standing barely 15 seconds earlier.

With a racing heart, I didn't slow down to gawk. Rushing away from the accident, I passed a gaggle of construction workers who immediately began cat-calling. I don't understand why Mexican men think that the way to pick up an American girl is to start by calling her "gueda". I find it offensive. I can handle most comments and cat-calls, but that one really rankles me. I don't like being reminded of my "whiteness", even in a culture that values it.

Making it back to campus (better late than never, right?), I spent some time with Luis before heading home for la comida de media dia and tarea. Soaking up the sunshine on my balcony, I was distracted from my studying by a group of traveling street performers! They serenaded me from the street in front of my house. All together an exceedingly enjoyable experience.

By the end of the day, I can say with complete certainty, today was a good day!