bikes and Mexico

Couple things about biking here.

Its hilarious how many amazing old bikes like this are everywhere.

These vintage double top tube wonders are the kind of thing that is prized by commuters looking for a smooth, indestructible single speed set up for city riding. Notice also the AMAZING spring seat! You could take this thing up and down the steps of the Pyramids at Palenque all day and feel nothing. There are so many of these, it almost makes me want to find one to cruise around on.

Oh wait, maybe not. You see, in Puebla (and most of Mexico I'm told) bikes are given less leeway on the road than pedestrians...and pedestrians are frequently seen stuck in the grill of a bus they were trying to board. 5 minutes ago, while walking to the coffee shop, I was practically run over my a moped that was making a right turn through 3 lanes of traffic in order to head directly up on the sidewalk. It was thrilling. Yet, in the words of our esteemed former governor Raging Rod Blago I just don't have the "testicular fortitude" for cycling out there.

I'm going to Chiapas, today at 7:00, maybe I can just keep going and wind up with these folks.

One thing I did learn.

This has been here since before time began.  

Then some Spainards went and plopped this on top of it

There is one factor that transcends time, space, culture, religion, and colonization however:

LUCHA LIBRE!!!!!

Check them out

A really interesting non-profit here in Puebla.

JUCONI (english)

How to go to ancient Cholula and learn nothing...

Saturday the weather was perfect.  Perfect for me, that is.  It is cold here for many natives Pueblans, but I think 70 is just right.  I wanted to check out the tiny town to the west of Puebla that has some serious history. 

I needed a day trip.  Puebla was feeling really suburban and lame that day.  As I had spent from 8-11 at a Starbucks online, I wanted to get out of my computer and head and kick up some dust.  

I went to my local travel agency, my housemate Paulo and got the scoop on the three busses necessary to get there.  This was complicated.  It involved looking for the correct color of bus, asking the driver before getting on, looking for the correct mini-mart to get off near, and to catch the right bus that goes to Cholula. 

Of course, I screwed up my first shot.  I wound up hoofing around a part of Puebla I'd never seen, though.  Ran across some pretty weird shit, and it was relatively easy to get back exactly where I started, a block from my house.  

This was all fine, but I wanted to get to the archeology, you know?  

Perhaps I'll get those pictures up tomorrow.

Talk the Talk

I had one of those ridiculous days on Friday where you have the same, "detail of foreigner life" conversation twenty times.

Well, it wasn't really twenty times, but you'll recognize the feeling when I tell you what it was.

All college students, travelers, etc. have it more times than they can count, you guessed it,

the accent conversation.

It started in the morning, at 7:00 when my spanish was particularly poor and I went back to english to ask my housemate about a "tutor."

He had no clue what I was talking about, until I said tutor in a Spanish accent. He thought I was talking about an architectural style or family of English monarchs. This led me to share with him what the Chicago accent sounds like, which he found absolutely hilarious.

Later that day, while commiserating with some other gringos, it came up again. As they were from either the West coast or the East coast, I was able to entertain everyone with my spot on requests for a "haat dog, or a poleish saasage. Yu know, aftir da gaame."

More hilarity.

Anyway, my housemate's girlfriend, Paola, says to me, "Everyone tells me I speak spanish with a Chicago accent because I lived there when I was a little girl! You're from Chicago, what do you think?"

Third time today, and it wasn't even brought up by me. Chingada madre.

Well I had no choice but to explain that she did not have a Chicago accent, and that a Chicago accent could be achieved by either holding your nose or joining the Chicago Police Department. I was forced by circumstance to produce another round of impersonations.

Hilarity ensues.

The weirdness was yet to come though. Housemate Paulo was putting on music later in the evening, and Paola was saying something about Oldies. Then I hear "Oldies 104.3..." I stopped her, "What was that?"

"Oh I don't know, I just said it."

"You know that's the Chicago radio station that plays the oldies, right? You just pulled it up out of the attic of your brain."

"WHAAT!?"

Then the true test, Chicagolanders, you know what I'm going to do:

I put Paola to this one,

Complete the jingle everybody:

Five eight eight, two three hundred ____________

She totally got it. And had no idea how. First she got the tune, then without me telling her, she came up with "Empire."

That old man has international scope.

Depressing.

I'm so not homesick....but....

why did this video make me a little misty...

Mario Takes Metropolis (Chicago)

little hurt

that I did not get similar treatment...

just kidding, happy to be in the same country as Wild Hill for a moment.  

So wacky, reading the coverage now...