Mission: Kettle

It's always something. Today, after my classes, all of which were in the morning, I decided to go in search of an electric kettle--una cafetera electrica. It's a bit silly, I know, but there's nowhere to get boiling water in the evenings, and I brought a lot of teabags. I walked downtown, this time by a much safer and more expedient route, and bean poking around, looking for anywhere that looked as though it might sell such things. No luck, despite fairly extensive wanderings, though I did find El Unicornio Azul, a very, very small health-food shop. I got some granola and yogurt there, and asked the shopkeeper if he knew where I might find my kettle. "Ni idea," he responded. Okay. I decided to catch a taxi back to the school around four, and on a whim, asked the cab driver if he might know. he also had "ni idea," but radioed to ask. He offered to take me to a small mall where he was sure there would be sucha thing. Indeed, there, was, though not in the particular store he had said to go into. Regardless, I did find one (which leaked, of course, all over the table). I probably used up a good 45 minutes of the cab drivers time, and the fare was still only $10.


This morning I started my classes. After glancing at my placement test and giving me an oral exam, which consisted of asking which classes I wanted to take, Mali, the woman helping me, decided I was at an advance level. As such, I am taking a Literature class, in which I am the only student, a Mexican cookery class, and a Mexican Culture class. I've already read quite a bizarre story by Carlos Fuentes for my literature class called "Chac Mool," in which an imitation idol purchased from a roadside vendor comes to life and destroys a man's life. Magical Realism--you gotta love it, I suppose, or be completely freaked out by it... In the cooking class, we made capirotada, a bread pudding very similar to that which we make in NM: Bread, sugar syrup, cheese, raisins, nut. Except this one isn't baked. I was unable to eat it (bread), but it looked quite good, despite the fact that, this being Mexico, we used some strange fake cheese... The teacher of the culture class was a bit intimidating. She never smiled, hardly looked at me, and likes to actively correct your Spanish, which I'm not sure how I feel about. Regardless, I think she's okay.

There was on orientation this evening with the director and founder of the school, an affable man named Jorge. He gave the rundown on scheduling, housing, safety, bacteria in the water, etc. He seems like quite a cool guy, though. He started the school some twenty yeats ago, without any sort of permanent space. They would hold classes in parts and cafes, he said. They bought this building ten years ago, and at the moment are in the process of bilding a miniature golf course in one of the courtyards, something I think is quite funny. All in all, I feel quite comfortable here (except for the slightly funky bathrooms--muddy, tepid showers... I told the offie about the mud though, and they said something would be done about it right away. "If there's anything at all that you see that needs fixing," the woman told me, "tell us right away and we'll do something.") . The school feels quite safe, and I'm glad to report that there seems to be a resident cat lurking about.


After the orientation, I sat under one of the portals around the courtyard, the evening sunlight streaming in over my shoulder, illuminatin the grapefruit tree. I remained there until the light faded, rendering it too difficult to read the strange tale I was working on.

Food total for the day: $4.50. That lunch, dinner, and a snack in between.