Backwards Day

You know those days you have every once in a while where everything seems to line up just right? Lights turn green. The coffee turns out just right. And there just seems to be a sort of prescient pace and perfect rhythm to the day. Well, today wasn´t one of those days.

It´s not that I have anything to complain about. My life right now (and my day today-which I´m getting to) is so perfectly what I´ve needed (and what I knew I would want after the months of the graduate school gauntlet). It´s just that today was really like this funny sort of backwards version of the aforementioned sychronicity that we´ve all experienced at times.

So I got up this morning at the lovely late hour of 10 am. I took a leisurely shower, had a nice breakfast with my host family, and grabbed my stuff to head out for the day. I knew from my experience last weekend that my favorite coffee shop would be closed, so I headed for the next best thing down in the Zocalo (public square). The first cup felt more or less like when your mom just whispers something sweet in your ear in the hopes of very kindly and gently waking you up. I didn´t budge. The second cup (and I think- I know- I drink so fast that probably what happened-happens is that the caffeine didn´t have enough time to get to the brandt brain) was more like when your mom is trying to get off to work, is making sure your sisters have their lunch and their coats, is telling your dad not to forget dinner is at the johnson´s, and after doing all of these things realizes that your lazy butt still isn´t out of bed and screams your complete, lawful name at a decibel level only achievable by maddened mothers the world over. The second cup woke me up.

So now I´m ready for the day. But I realize, after finally waking up, that my original intent for today was to find a good bar and watch the playoff soccer that´s happening right now in Mexico. I look at the time- it´s noon. Perfect. The games start at noon. I head for the nearest big screen.

My usual place of preference is typically really hot and stuffy during the day time hours- so I found a spot at an open air place, with my own table, perfectly placed in front of the largest tv in the bar. Perfect. The waiter comes over and I ask for a corona and he brings back a beer and the delicious, complimentary peanuts they have at bars here complete with salt, roasted chiles, and roasted garlic- sweet. The game starts just as I take my first sip.

So the game gets going and it´s good from the first touch of the ball. Indios and Toluca. Indios beat them several days ago 1 nil, so Toluca needs to win and win by more than one to advance. The first ten minutes of the game are a great back and forth- both teams sharing possession equally as well as subsequent shots on goal. I´m relieved because it seems like half the time I get pysched up for going out and watching a sporting event- it sucks balls. I´m even to the point with my Spanish where I can swear at the game with the locals, and understand some of the armchair quaterbacking going on at the tables around me. But to the backwardness of the day.

So after 20 minutes I´m feeling a strange blend of excitement and grogginess. It´s like my brain has some sort of slime covering it- and it seems to moving into my limbs. Oh yeah, that´s right-my beer is gone. That´s right- I started drinking at noon. I didn´t even notice that the first one was gone until the previously projected proverbial voice of a mother came to me and said-´son, be careful´. Well, those of you who know me know that I have ¨slow down´tatooed on my body. You also know that this may well end up being my epitaph (though I don´t think I´ll end up going the burial route)- ¨never did slow down- just got stopped¨. Although, and this is for you Dad, I may be open to ¨you couldn´t stop him, you could only hope to contain him¨. Anyhow- after countless experiences in my short life in which I have chosen to ignore that motherly voice- I figured I would listen to the other reminder I have tattooed on my body- ¨listen¨.


I drank some water. Felt a bit better. And the game got great. I was totally into it-cheering with every missed shot, yelling at every stupid call, and doing as well to fit in as any six foot tall, baby-level-spanish speaking guero can in a mexican bar. I´m sure it was extra entertainment for the old mexican men behind me to hear me swearing in spanish and pumping my fists in the air. Glad to bring something to this place amigos- not just take. Anyhow, where was I? Oh yeah, backwards.

So now it´s halftime. I brought all of my learning materials (as I always do- whether or not I actually use them) from school- as I intended to get as much of my homework down during the halftime as I could. Feeling quite proud of myself for being so motivated I sort of puffed up a bit in my chair when the waiter sort of took me by surprise. With my still mostly groggy head stuck in my own private cloud of pride, I looked up and just smiled at the waiter out of reaction. I realized immediately after he left that he had just asked me if I wanted another beer. Listen. Listen. Listen.

Well, if I´m totally honest with myself- what I heard was- ¨c´mon dude. don´t get all i-shouldn´t-because it´s-noon-on-a-sunday. i mean, it´s noon on a sunday AND you are in mexico at a bar watching soccer. you are supposed to be doing this.¨I thought, ¨you know, that´s right- i am in mexico- and i´m even doing my homework during the halftime. how many people can say that they would have the motivation to do that?¨You get the picture. I did my homework over a beer. And so to the backwards business.

When the second half started it was 1pm, I was mostly finished with my homework, and I was two beers deep. Now I was really starting to feel like taking a nap. It was like my body and mind had gotten into a very confusing and ultimately tiring argument. My mind was like- dude, you just gave me caffeine and we did some homework- i´m ready to go, give me something, throw me something, i´m ready to play. My body was all- dude, seriously, just have one more handful of peanuts and let´s go home so i can lay down- please? My mind was like- don´t listen to body, he´s always pissing and moaning about needing more rest- you can rest when you´re dead. My body was all- don´t listen to mind, he doesn´t know how to relax- have you ever noticed how his voice is uncannily like Woody Allen´s- you don´t want to end up looking like him do you? I was like- good point body. So I had another handful of peanuts.

But then the game got good. Back and forth. Forth and back. Though the first half was well balanced, Toluca just started to dominate from the get go. The put shot after shot on goal. Corner kick after corner kick. And just as I was about to cheer for what I thought was to be a sure goal- the waiter popped up behind me. I already forget who missed the header, but Í´ll never forget the next hilarious moment shared by the waiter and I. I screamed and pumped my fist as what´s his name attempted to put the ball in the upper right corner. And as it just missed I turned in anguish and nodded at the waiter like- can you believe that? I turned to look at the replay, and when I turned back around, there was another fresh beer waiting for me.

I couldn´t decide if the waiter was evil( knew the dilemma of my status as a person of passion, futbol fan, and spanish speaking beginner- and therefore knew there was no real way to ask for an opened beer to be put away) or was just being attentive (taking my minimal spanish and gesticulative nature to mean- yes sir, i think i´ll have another). The jury is still out. However, one thing remained in ice-cold, delicious certainty- I had a third beer in front of me at 130pm in the early afternoon. So to the backward trend.

Luckily for me- the game continued at a furious and entertaining pace- a pace that preoccupied my mind enough to keep my body quiet until match´s end. I sipped said third beer and simply got wrapped up what had now become even more of a- forgive the usage- intoxcating atmosphere (you can roll your eyes Jens-if you actually read this). Toluca kept hammering shot after shot at Indios keeper. Shot after shot bouncing off the posts. I seriously haven´t seen a game with so many near misses since the last time the U.S. played someone. Very entertaining.

Then, all of a sudden, the game was done. The programming switched almost instantly to some horrible local comedy show that I can tell would annoy me even if I understood every word and correct conjugation. It´s like what I imagine the progammatic progeny of Sesame Street and Mad TV would look like- to paint a picture for you all back home. Anyhow, at this point, my previously caffeinated and concurrently sedated mind gave up control completely to my body. My mind said something I can´t write here- even if it was in Spanish. My body was like- ¨dude, that was kinda backwards- start drinking at noon right after trying to start the day.¨And though I did walk home and promptly lay down for a nap a mere four hours after having slept in until 10 am- it was fun.

So to continue on the backwards theme- I am now sitting, obviously, at the internet cafe, after enjoying a nice cup of coffee and a piece of pie at 5pm. It´s now 8:15pm and I have clearly had enough caffeine to have been typing non-stop for exactly 1 hour and 34 minutes by the timer on the computer. So you may at this point be asking yourself- what in the hell is Ike doing in Mexico anyway? Well, I´ll have you know that I spent from 4-6pm working and finishing my homework (and eating my pie-naturally). And yes, i have also been enjoying some other fun local activities besides just drinking beer and yelling at televisions (something I realize I can do and participate in back home). In fact, on Friday night I went to an photography exposition with some people from my school and ended up talking with all sorts of interesting people and ultimately ended up at this crazy, hilarious bar (kind of like if Bob´s Java Jive had a bar child with The Great Nabob- for those of you who know those places) dancing and talking until 2 in the morning. So there.

But I think what I am realizing more and more on this trip (besides that I love mexican food and there are NO public toilets anywhere down here)- is that I planned this trip (in the spirit in which I imagine all great trips are) somewhat unawares of just how beneficial it would be to have a chunk of time with which to do whatever the hell I want. It´s taken me these first two weeks to realize that. And I think per my habitual pattern of moving too fast- I didn´t fully comprehend how good for me Oaxaca would be. Outside of school- which is of my own choosing and is relatively minimal work- I have no obligations here. The pace of life here is slow- people walk slow, eat slow, and savor life. I know that I haven´t changed a bit. I will always be learning the lesson of how to continue to more slowly approach things. But like a good teacher- this place has provided the space for me in which to experience that I can indeed chill out, drink three beers in the early afternoon, and make time to simply enjoy having no obligations.

I know that all of this will have an extra layer of importance after my second week of classes this fall.


I hope that those of you who made it through this blog congratulate yourselves by drinking a beer- if you´re into that sort of thing.