Acapulco by Photo (#s 5 and 6)

I feel like I am losing all direction in my life, everything feels like it's veering in the wrong direction. Strangely, I feel dangerously unaffected by it all. So far. The lack of reaction has not given me much reason to try and deal with anything, which will probably come back to haunt me later, but for now, I'm just going to a happy place...

These two pictures are on Mandy's street. I'm not even sure they're the same building, I can't remember. Maybe they are. Anyway, it is an awesome street with lots of cool buildings like this one (though not all have matching cars). The road goes straight up (and I mean STRAIGHT UP) a mountain, so there is no walking up the street...it just isn't done. Although my word, it would be a fantastic workout...but would end with you dying of over-exertion and heat exhaustion. So it was a cab up every time--more on that later. But walking down is quick and easy, so it was fun to check things out as we strolled down every day...



Here are some things that I took note of on our daily hikes down the mountain:

1. These trees. Mandy thinks they might be ficus, and I think she might be right. Have you ever seen a ficus that wasn't growing in a living room or a bank lobby? Me neither...until now. Note that the trunk is painted white. EVERY TREE IN THE CITY has a trunk painted white. I have heard that it takes care of the ants on the trees, but now I want to know what's going to take care of the fact that this looks so bizarre?

2. Dogs. They are everywhere in Acapulco and most have some sort of severe physical deformity but are still smarter than you or I will ever be. I can tell you one thing, they certainly beat me in navigating the streets without getting run over by a taxicab whose driver may or may not be in the front seat or even the car. My favorite dog was one that had a giant tumor-like thing hanging from its belly in a sack, held on by a long stretch of skin, and it would drag the ground when the dog walked. The poor thing did not appear to care in the least. And when it lay down in the shade, it would just curl it's body around the basket-ball sized growth and snuggle up. I am not even kidding. It gives me great joy to know that Mandy crosses paths with this dog often, unless perhaps the giant growth has hatched and eaten the dog alive. Let's hope not.

3. Dentists. There was a "practice" about halfway down the mountain, and the waiting room was an open-air room on the sidewalk. Okay, this is not all that unusual, but the next time you go to the dentist and you're sitting in the waiting room, think about how you could be squatting on the sidewalk next to a stray dog with a gigantic growth hanging from its belly. I bet then you won't complain that all there is to read is Highlights for Kids.

4. Internet Cafes...lots and lots of internet cafes, where the programming and internet is OMG IN SPANISH! Talk about grossly unhelpful. I was lost the moment we went in. And I may be dreaming this, but I think we had to be let in because the door was locked...I assume to keep the riff-raff out. Except I just kept thinking if the riff-raff can just hide who they are long enough to get in, well, then there's trouble because you are also locked in until they let you out. It's a flawed system but we survived...barely.

5. No trash. And no trash cans either... because of the dogs. But they have thought up a very innovative solution on how to dispose of the trash! This is problem-solving at its finest. Every night around 10 pm, the garbage truck comes rumbling up the mountain, and ahead of it runs a man with a cowbell, ringing it with all his might--not unlike Wee Willy Winkie--to let you know that it's time to take your trash out. And you stop what you're doing, grab your trash, and plop it in the street. Voila! Trash problem solved. Brilliant.

Not-So-Picky Eater

Me: Patrick, what did you guys eat for lunch today?

Patrick: We were out at Uncle Tom's house.

Me: Okay, but what did you eat?

Patrick: Oh, um....rattlesnake.

Picky Eater

Ben: Hey, I love burgers!

Me: No you don't...you never eat your burger.

Ben: Well, I like gummi burgers...

You get all kinds...

This weekend Luke and Patrick went camping/snorkeling with the boy scouts and Ben was feeling bad to be left out of that, so I brought him down to Gigi and Grandpa's for a few days of fun...which happened to be the same few days that my parents were having their much-talked-about garage sale. I'm not sure why this garage sale came to be, all I know is that I've been hearing about it for years and this weekend it finally happened.

I am not a fan of garage sales per se (Here's all our junk! Want to buy it?), but the cash from this one is going to the school down the road that's been underwater for a week, so I suppose that's reason enough to do it. But now I realize that not only do I have disdain for garage sales themselves, but also for the people that hit them up. Here's a sampling of what we got this morning:

35-year-old Loser: Do you have any video games for sale?

Us: No.

35-year-old Loser: My mom needs an outdoor patio table. Do you have one of those?

Us: (looking around, not expecting one to materialize) Nope.

35-year-old Loser: Can I buy this packing material?

Us: No, those are to keep the plates from breaking.

35-year-old Loser: What kind of flowers are those in your garden?

Us: Those aren't for sale.


Or there were the very nicely dressed middle-aged men who came looking for God knows what:

Them: You don't have a whole lot of stuff, do you?

Us: Buddy, you're at a garage sale. This isn't Wal-mart.


Or the people who thought they were actually at Rooms-to-Go:

Them: I like this couch. Do you have another one too?

Us: ???????


But in the end, the sale was a success because they got rid of all the big stuff and made a few hundred for the school. And I'm really glad I was here for it because I am now 100% certain that I will never ever hold a yard sale of my own.

Acapulco by Photo (#s 3 and 4)

After the harrowing adventure that was the Acapulco market, Mandy took me to get tacos al pastor (shepherd's tacos? I want to say yes) at an afuera restaurant on the Costera. Very nice, very relaxing, very yum. I love the way the Mexicans serve you meals. They bring you all the ingredients and you can throw it together however you want. For tacos al pastor, you get homemade corn tortillas (they alone are worth the airfare), heavily seasoned spicy shredded meat (I think it was pork, I can't be sure...in any case, I didn't eat any gristle-y pieces, so it could have been hyena meat and I wouldn't have cared), tomatillo sauce, rice and black beans. Speaking of beans, I did not see a refried bean the entire time I was in Mexico. I'm not sure what to think about that, except to be glad for my own sake because I prefer black beans. The tacos had a major kick, so Mandy ordered jamaica (huh-MY-ka), which was a very sweet cold syrupy juice that tasted very familiar but I haven't been able to place the similarity yet. Maybe pomegranate.

As you can see, I'm still not handling the heat well. I never really did. We kept trying to set up the camera on the napkin dispenser and take a timed photo, but in nearly every shot my disastrous look nearly shattered the lens. In one picture I actually resembled a filthy pirate...quite closely. Yeah, the close-up shots were not working for me (Mandy was just fine, as you can see), so a kindly mesero (waiter) offered to take our picture for us. It went something like this:

Mesero: I take picture?

Us: Oh, okay...gracias!

Mesero: You're beautiful.

Us: Oh...gracias? Just press this button right here.

Mesero: Okay?

Us: (smiling) Si!

Mesero: click

Us: Gracias!

Mesero: You're beautiful.


Yes, he was quite taken with the little white girls, and the picture is not so great, but it was too awkward to ask him to take one more. We didn't talk to him again until we paid and left, and then it went something like this:

Mesero: Adios!

Us: Adios. Gracias!

Mesaro: You're beautiful.

Acapulco by Photo (#2)

This is the market in Acapulco. I think the word market has such great connotations; in the movies they're always set in idyllic surroundings and very well-dressed people walk around with wicker baskets and buy wonderful things. Or there's the farmers market, outside with tables and stands of perfect, delicious produce just picked that morning by a farmer who's wife also just happened to make you a blackberry pie...just because. This is not often the reality, and the same goes for the Acapulco market. It had good points and bad points, but mainly it was quite the cultural experience...and well, that's always a good point.

Thankfully it was covered, because that was my first day in Acapulco and I was not yet used to the 900 degree heat (as evidenced by my face). Not all the vendors were open, but from what I could tell, each of the 60+ stands were selling the exact same things, for the exact same price. Except for one guy, who had a sign hanging over his door saying "We don't screw you too much." Unfortunately, he wasn't there, so I didn't have the chance to find out. We did stop by a stand owned by a lady that belongs to Mandy's church group, and she had some nice things, including ceramic crosses that I bought a few of for a special price just for us. That was nice of her, I have to wonder if all her other patrons get screwed, though...

I actually should have bought a big stick from her, I could have used it the rest of the time we were at the market to beat off the other vendors. It was like feeding pigeons in Trafalgar Square, except that they weren't pigeons and I wasn't giving them anything except dirty looks. They've got the pushy salesman thing down pat, and it doesn't help when you have no clue what they're saying. We emerged back out into the blazing heat unscathed, though, and I finished my shopping a few days later at the Wal-mart. Which deserves a whole post of its own.