It’s like a double-barreled banana

It seems my ill state of mind has manifested corporeally. This morning, I walked downstairs to prepare a cup of coffee, and immediately shit myself upon entering the kitchen. Thankfully no one else was awake yet. I washed up and changed clothes, by which point my head had begun to hurt and my body had began aching, so I called in sick to my Spanish class and tried to sleep in off. When I woke up, my body and head felt worse, though the stomach problems seemed to be gone. I did what I had to do to get through my classes (during which I noticed the skin on my arms becoming a bit blotchy) and came home to rest. Dehydration seems the most likely culprit, so I’ve been drinking a lot of water. I also took a Tylenol, to be safe. I’ll be going to bed soon, and hopefully 10+ hours of sleep can take care of this.

It was a difficult day, though not for any tangible reasons. I’m conflicted about the future; right now I am committed both to stay in Mexico for another semester (January to July) and to move to Shanghai in February (to teach for a year). Obviously I cannot do both of these things, and there are pros and cons to either choice (though I won’t go into them in detail here).

But beyond this, I’m finding it difficult to build meaningful connections while knowing that my stay here is temporary. Sherrill likes to complain about the tourists here in Chiapas, but I’m pretty sure we are tourists. All of my interactions are contractual or anonymous. This is probably exacerbated by the fact that I’m working online (Apple says I’m averaging about 8.5 hours a day on my phone or computer), but I still don’t really feel like I live here.

Similarly, it’s sometimes difficult to feel invested in my classes because I have never intended to teach long-term (at least, not this subject or at this level). Though once again, maybe I would feel differently about this if I was teaching in person. As it is, I haven’t really even met my students.

It feels increasingly appealing to start applying to law schools or grad schools in the US and position myself to settle somewhere long-term as soon as possible, but I fear that 1. this is the only point in my life when I’ll be able to live abroad in this way and 2. while my test scores are high, my grades weren’t as good as they could have been and I didn’t get to know any of my professors well enough to get a letter of recommendation, so I need to do something more reflective of my abilities before I start applying to selective institutions. So I feel kinda stuck. Or unstuck. Pulled in many directions, without any particular attachment.

After my Spanish lesson today, I spoke with one of my friends for the first time in several weeks, and it feels like we’ve drifted apart a bit. I suppose this is not surprising given the circumstances, but I had hoped we could do a better job keeping in touch.

I also had probably my longest conversation ever with Gerardo Jr, the son of my host parents. He is in his late 20’s, isn’t employed, and lives at home. Today I learned that he likes grapefruits (I told him I could get him some for free from the school) and doesn’t care for Church (my host parents are very religious). He knows a handful of English phrases and seems keen to learn; I’m going to start talking with him more often. In truth, I haven’t gotten to know my host family very well yet.

To be honest, most of these problems are probably of my own making; social interaction was never my strongest skill or biggest interest. I’d like to believe that this can be overcome with reflection and effort. I guess we’ll see.

It rained this morning. Normally it only rains in the evening. For the first time since my arrival in Chiapa de Corzo, I had to wear a coat.

There were ants in my cereal again. Some of the ants here are really tiny and they get into everything. I normally eat raisin bran, and despite rolling up the bag, folding closed the box, and closing the cupboard door, the tiny ants somehow still get it*. I think they like the sugar on the raisins. I personally don’t feel any type of way about the raisins (more of a bran guy really), so I tried buying the raisin-less bran, and voila! no ants. But of course, cereal is finite, and upon returning to the grocery store to buy more (in the morning, half-asleep), I forgot the lesson I had learned and once again purchased the with-raisin bran. And so the ants returned, and the wheel of samsara spins on.

I am going to write a short story by the end of this month. Whereas this is Halloween Month, I intend it to be a spooky story. It is my desire to start writing other things, and I hope that by announcing my intent here, I will increase the likelihood of my following through. I don’t know whether or not I’ll publish it; that’s a decision for Future Adam.

* I realize I could probably solve this whole dilemma with a bag clip, but the store only sells bag clips in packages of thirty and I refuse to buy thirty of something when I only need one.

A fairy typical Sunday. I got up late, read, worked on lesson plans, and taught one shorter class to the twins I work with.

In other news, the one fried-chicken chain just started selling chicken sandwiches, and my cravings are back. There have been long stretches (mostly in college) where I ate a fried-chicken sandwich pretty much daily. Not necessarily even a good one; many were from Kwik-Trip, or worse, the hot food area of the grocery store. I don’t know what it is precisely, but I have yet to encounter a fried-chicken sandwich that I wouldn’t eat once a day. Something about the ratio of melted cheese, fry oil, and corn byproducts has hacked my dumb, midwestern taste buds and made even the lowest-quality sandwiches irresistible. There are plenty of other foods I like, but nothing else that I can eat daily for weeks without tiring.

• 

I went to bed at 10:30 last night, which was probably the earliest I’ve slept in the past year. After about thirteen hours, I woke up and went to San Cristobal with Sherrill, Luzma, Gina Mamá, and Ginita (Mom Gina and Little Gina [she’s like 26 though]). We visited a nature park in the mountains, ate lots of food, explored a cave, and rode some horses. Then we went to the city center for more food (and shopping) and returned to Chiapa de Corzo around 9:30pm (the Ginas have a car, so traveling back-and-forth doesn’t have to be an overnight ordeal). Overall it was fun, but keeping up with the conversation and personalities was a bit tiring at times (Luzma in particular talks a lot, and fast) and I felt myself zoning out during the ride home. It was good to get to know my employers and coworkers, but we don’t don’t seem to have a ton in common. The normal Saturday routine of Reading Club with Tayde is much more my speed.

It’s been extra hot these past two days. Really takes the energy out of you. My skin is glistening and my motivation is gone.

Tonight, after class, there was a special dinner to welcome Sherrill and I to Mexico (we’ve been here for like sixty days, but I don’t ask questions about free dinner). The two of us set out with Luzma, the school secretary, around seven. We ordered a pizza* and some sort of alcohol**, waited a while for the principal and her daughter (both named Gina) to arrive, then got impatient and ate everything. Luzma doesn’t speak much English and Sherrill doesn’t speak much Spanish, so the conversation was roughly 30% pantomime. Gina Sr. arrived about twenty minutes after we finished the pizza and ordered three more dishes, which arrived about the same time Gina Jr. did. I haven’t had much interaction with Gina Sr. before, but it seemed like she and Luzma were good friends and the two of them together were very funny (though tbh they spoke quite quickly and the server kept refilling my glass, so by this point I was only understanding about half of what was said [the first one-and-a-half alcoholic drinks improve your Spanish, but after that they start working against you]). We ate stuffed mushrooms, and salmon, and a fancy salad, then ordered crepes and ice cream for dessert. After about three hours, we finally left the restaurant; now I can barely move.

*After visiting three pizza restaurants, I can confirm that some Mexicans put soy sauce on their pizza. This is the only thing I’ve seen soy sauce used for around here. Out of scientific curiosity, I did try it, and it tastes about as bad as you’d imagine.

**I’m pretty sure we were drinking sangria. Luzma said it wasn’t sangria, but a different drink made by mixing sangria and wine. I’m pretty sure that’s still sangria, but again, I don’t ask questions about free dinner. I also suspect that some people may have begun drinking before the not-sangria arrived.

I’m not quite sure who San Miguel (Saint Michael) was, but today was his day. The streets are littered with the remains of a thousand fireworks. There was a big volley around midnight last night, and they started back up again around 5am this morning, with a new batch every thirty minutes or so. I’m pretty sure it was the church that was doing this (though it was a bit difficult to accurately determine the point of origin because most of the fireworks were just loud, not flashy). The bombardment has been slowly ramping up in anticipation over the past week, and there seems to be one of these Saint-based holidays every month or so. It’s starting to remind me of the daily calls to prayer in Morocco; whenever I least expect it, I am startled by a deafening reminder of other people’s religious beliefs. The morning ones are the worst. Believe whatever you want, but chill with the loud noises at 5am.

“An artist respects the silence that serves as the foundation of creativity” – Angry Trumpet Man