Marivy and Victoria have been wonderful hosts here. I have my own room, have a 100 movies at my disposal, get made breakfast most mornings, and my room cleaned. Hot showers, and a key to come and go whenever i want, as well as local phone calls despite a charge for each one. I have been recovering my mind, spirit and body everyday and it has been such a welcome respite from the intensity on the road. They have been so generous with me - how can I repay them?
Well, their house is quiet, exceptionally modern, cozy and spotless,except fort he bathroom ceiling, which was the victim of some moisture problems causing the paint to bubble and flake off. The problem was, I thought, it would be a pain to try and get all the tools to complete the job properly. An instance of telling myself not to do something just because I can. So, the new question I am learning to ask myself now is, "What do I want to do, and what can I do?" The only other option was to give Victoria English lessons. She speaks Spanish every day, and hasn't spoken since grade school. Yet another problem: I hadn't taught English in 4 years, and the last time I tried, I ran out of the school not wanting anything to do with it.
My ascension into the ranks of an English as a Second Language Teacher was a new experience. As I painted the thousandth window frame on an $80,000 job in Richmond, BC, 20' in the air on a hydraulic lift, I suddenly imagined myself teaching English in Shanghai, China. Upon completion of the job, I called my client Terry to tell him I would not be taking anymore maintenance contracts, and was shutting down the company.
The process began with some phone calls to local ESL schools, and an eventual application to the University of Cambridge's CELTA program, taught at the satellite school housed in the YMCA. My first interview with Tamwood on a Friday ended up as a temporary job to last one month the following Monday. I stayed 16.
Moving up the ranks to Activities Coordinator, and level 5 conversation was a flattering, yet humbling experience. An abrupt change in curriculum left me totally lost. I spent hours thinking of lesson plans with a blank page. I became a master of disguise, trying to fool the students into thinking I was organized and ready for their classes, but I couldn't fool myself. I felt like an imposter, despite wanting so bad to be a good teacher, enjoy the students and committed to their learning. Eventually I became more and more anxious, tired, ornery and stressed each class I came up with an empty lesson plan.
I quit, and spent 3 weeks stuck in bed shivering with anxiety. It was an awful experience and I was humbled once again by my mind's ability to shut my entire life off. I had been there twice before, but despite having the knowledge of what was happening, I couldn't shake myself out of it.
So here I was with lesson plan in hand today, prepared the night before, and a bit nervous. I flashed back to the feelings and moments teaching all those years ago, and realized I had to put a positive sign on this. I chose the career, and ended up afraid of it - a demoralizing experience. What went wrong? Well, I was scared to ask for help, too scared to fail, and a perfectionist. I couldn't allow myself to fail in front of the student, so I didn't even try.
Today, we won the battle. Victoria seemed to enjoy the speed and level of English, and together we built up her confidence. I guess that's it. A team - we work together, teacher and student. Equal ground. I came to terms with my time at Tamwood, and realized I can get pretty overwhelmed with the thought of infinite choice through creating my own lesson plans. I preferred to work off of someone else's plan, so I didn't have to go through the anxiety of starting from scratch, and looking at the clock saying 12 am knowing work started at 6 the next morning. My achilles heel, so to speak, came in the form of experiences of being at the front of the class, directing a group of people, and fearing making a mistake. My fear created itself a negative experience, but I know now it wasn't ME. It was just a skill I hadn't learned, and if I stayed relaxed, and committed to it fully, I could get through my physical pain enough to create the lesson.
Beware of the Spank
Tonight Monica and her fiance Jorge will accompany to the Mexican wrestling ring. I will be taking the red metrobus to meet her close to her office, as they are given a lane just to themselves and is the fastest way to traverse the city. One would expect many warnings to keep in mind on this journey, but she had only one: "BEWARE OF THE SPANKS". When I asked her what it meant, this was her reply:
Spanking is a form of corporal punishment commonly used to discipline a toddler, child, or teenager. It generally involves an adult -- typically a parent or teacher -- striking the offender's buttocks as a response to poor behavior, with either an open hand or an implement, to cause temporary pain without producing physical injury.[1] When an instrument is used in lieu of a hand, spanking becomes switching, paddling, belting, caning, whipping, or birching, depending on the type of implement. When an open hand is used, some countries refer to spanking as slapping or smacking. Historically, boys have tended to be more frequently spanked than girls.[2][3][4][5][6]
Spanking can also refer to the practice of striking an adult in a playful manner as a social ritual or form of entertainment.
Some countries have outlawed the spanking of children in every setting, but many allow it at least when administered by a parent or guardian. For the legal status of corporal punishment in different countries, see Corporal punishment in the home and School corporal punishment.
MEXICAN TRANSLATION :
AND OLD LADY CAN SPANK ( TOUCH ) YOUR BUTT!!!!!! J
CYA
Pain
Such immense, insurmountable, aggravating pain. This evening I could hardly stand it; it was the first time I remember on this trip wanting to die, to end it all. Hemingway style.
Coward.
There was only one thing to do, and a drastic one. Lay belly down on the hard floor, and hope that the comfort that came from previous attempts would visit me again.
It started the year of 9/11 and I was so stubbornly committed to re-writing an entire database I sat on a hard chair for 8 hours a day. 3 months in, I could barely sit down for a half hour without my legs and gluts tingling and going numb, my arms had such bad carpal tunnel I couldn't make a fist, and my eyes burned whenever I looked at a computer screen. Commitment, some sort of commitment to make myself good enough, to banish the demons of self-doubt and feel accomplished. The damage done may be permanent.
I spent many of the remaining years undermining my health in so many other ways, just to have a taste of success. Today, I finally surrendered. It was a day of fully understanding the limitations of my body, and the extent to which blood and bone can be pushed. Water was obviously deemed unnecessary by my ADD brain, far less important than making a difference, or making money, or attaining goals.
Luis and I had stayed behind at the mechanic's while Pablo and Marivy took my saddle bags in for repair, along with my jacket to sew badges onto. When 'Snoopy', aka Luis the amazing owner/auto mechanic had asked me yesterday if I had had a manual for him to look at, I realized it had fallen out somewhere between Stettler, and Mexico City through the long tear in the bottom of the left bag. Although my thoughts were of a bike that needed repair, it was my body that was actually falling apart, and there was an absence of a mechanic who was to fix it, or even maintain it.
The pain in my back has been so intense over the last month, I've had to contort my body in unimaginable ways simply to relieve the distressed muscles, and all of this while riding on the motorcycle. Turns out the BMW, or KLM stand up style of bike is far easier on the back to ride, as you are forced to sit up straight. 2 out of 7 days in Puerto Vallarta with Bonnie were spent on my back in the sand, as it seemed the only way to relieve the pain. Pain relievers were out of the question for me, because I knew I had to stop doing what was causing the damage, and not rely on something to mask, or 'band-aid' the problem. At the mechanic shop, I was kneeling down, and standing up to stretch somehow, but the pain was not letting up.
The amazing mechanics had fixed my electrical short problem in 5 minutes, and I was curious as to how exactly they did it, especially since I thought it would be a nightmare in hell. Luis translated everything from the mechanics to me, and as he was telling me, I stood up, and rather quickly at that. I remember feeing the blood rush to my head like a tidal wave, and of an intensity I had never experienced before. My knees buckle, and I try desperately to maintain control as the world started to spin around me. Down on the ground, the feeling passes and I try to collect myself while Luis is crying "Jason! Jason! What's wrong? Are you ok?" As I'm on the ground recovering I'm thinking "was it a seizure?" "No, I'm ok Luis. I'm ok," I reply slowly after my eyes focus again. Marivy, and subsequently Pablo are on the phone with strict orders to get some water in my system. Dehydration causing the thick blood to rush to my head and black me out. I'm lucky I had my wits enough to avoid a nasty crack of the head on the concrete.
A couple hours of solid work: some bolts on the windshield and back seat, a repaired rear tail light electrical system, a screw on the front light, the owner's personal trip to the hardware store for a foot peg bolt, and a rubber emission hose to replace the 'surgical tube', as they called it that I had bought in T.O., California. Cost: $ 0 pesos. Nada. Nothing. I couldn't believe it. Luis 'Snoopy' the mechanic, on a personal recommendation from the young man who shares his name, gave me his, and 2 of his mechanics time for free. He said it was a gift from Mexico to Canada. I gave him my card with my blog on it, and said this is my gift to you.
Just in case you need auto repairs and you find yourself in Mexico City, give 'Snoopy' a call, and tell him Jason from Canada sent you. I have a feeling he has a soft spot for us, somehow.
Luis Juambelz V.
Automotriz Snoopy, S.A. de C.V.
Arbol del Fuego No. 43
Col Candelaria Coyoacan
04380 Mexico, D.F. Tel 5618-6620 o 5618-6245
automotriz_snoopy@hotmail.com
Coward.
There was only one thing to do, and a drastic one. Lay belly down on the hard floor, and hope that the comfort that came from previous attempts would visit me again.
It started the year of 9/11 and I was so stubbornly committed to re-writing an entire database I sat on a hard chair for 8 hours a day. 3 months in, I could barely sit down for a half hour without my legs and gluts tingling and going numb, my arms had such bad carpal tunnel I couldn't make a fist, and my eyes burned whenever I looked at a computer screen. Commitment, some sort of commitment to make myself good enough, to banish the demons of self-doubt and feel accomplished. The damage done may be permanent.
I spent many of the remaining years undermining my health in so many other ways, just to have a taste of success. Today, I finally surrendered. It was a day of fully understanding the limitations of my body, and the extent to which blood and bone can be pushed. Water was obviously deemed unnecessary by my ADD brain, far less important than making a difference, or making money, or attaining goals.
Luis and I had stayed behind at the mechanic's while Pablo and Marivy took my saddle bags in for repair, along with my jacket to sew badges onto. When 'Snoopy', aka Luis the amazing owner/auto mechanic had asked me yesterday if I had had a manual for him to look at, I realized it had fallen out somewhere between Stettler, and Mexico City through the long tear in the bottom of the left bag. Although my thoughts were of a bike that needed repair, it was my body that was actually falling apart, and there was an absence of a mechanic who was to fix it, or even maintain it.
The pain in my back has been so intense over the last month, I've had to contort my body in unimaginable ways simply to relieve the distressed muscles, and all of this while riding on the motorcycle. Turns out the BMW, or KLM stand up style of bike is far easier on the back to ride, as you are forced to sit up straight. 2 out of 7 days in Puerto Vallarta with Bonnie were spent on my back in the sand, as it seemed the only way to relieve the pain. Pain relievers were out of the question for me, because I knew I had to stop doing what was causing the damage, and not rely on something to mask, or 'band-aid' the problem. At the mechanic shop, I was kneeling down, and standing up to stretch somehow, but the pain was not letting up.
The amazing mechanics had fixed my electrical short problem in 5 minutes, and I was curious as to how exactly they did it, especially since I thought it would be a nightmare in hell. Luis translated everything from the mechanics to me, and as he was telling me, I stood up, and rather quickly at that. I remember feeing the blood rush to my head like a tidal wave, and of an intensity I had never experienced before. My knees buckle, and I try desperately to maintain control as the world started to spin around me. Down on the ground, the feeling passes and I try to collect myself while Luis is crying "Jason! Jason! What's wrong? Are you ok?" As I'm on the ground recovering I'm thinking "was it a seizure?" "No, I'm ok Luis. I'm ok," I reply slowly after my eyes focus again. Marivy, and subsequently Pablo are on the phone with strict orders to get some water in my system. Dehydration causing the thick blood to rush to my head and black me out. I'm lucky I had my wits enough to avoid a nasty crack of the head on the concrete.
A couple hours of solid work: some bolts on the windshield and back seat, a repaired rear tail light electrical system, a screw on the front light, the owner's personal trip to the hardware store for a foot peg bolt, and a rubber emission hose to replace the 'surgical tube', as they called it that I had bought in T.O., California. Cost: $ 0 pesos. Nada. Nothing. I couldn't believe it. Luis 'Snoopy' the mechanic, on a personal recommendation from the young man who shares his name, gave me his, and 2 of his mechanics time for free. He said it was a gift from Mexico to Canada. I gave him my card with my blog on it, and said this is my gift to you.
Just in case you need auto repairs and you find yourself in Mexico City, give 'Snoopy' a call, and tell him Jason from Canada sent you. I have a feeling he has a soft spot for us, somehow.
Luis Juambelz V.
Automotriz Snoopy, S.A. de C.V.
Arbol del Fuego No. 43
Col Candelaria Coyoacan
04380 Mexico, D.F. Tel 5618-6620 o 5618-6245
automotriz_snoopy@hotmail.com
Fireworks
It's almost 12:3o am local time in the district of Santa Ursula Xitla, and someone is setting off fireworks here: no special occasion, no holiday, just because. It's Wednesday morning. A common occurrence here regardless of which day. We're so used to it we don't even jump anymore. Pablo warned me tonight the church and cemetary seems to attract some dangerous people and when there's a party he recommended to be very careful in the area. A fair is coming this weekend, and will shut down the whole street for days. It is to commemorate the anniversary of the church, and it is replete with carnival games, food, and rides. You can buy anything here.
Kenya
My grey and white fluffy cat had been missing for several days from Bonnie's house. I wasn't worried; she's very independent and seems to stay close to home. I received an email last night from a person who was taking care of Kenya temporarily, who was sleeping on their patio chair and basically hanging around their house. As she was worried about coyotes and cars, she decided to keep Kenya until she could find her home. She called the SPCA, found my name, and consequently found my blog about trying to find a home for her and Sudan before I left. Another 6 degrees of separation, someone at the shelter I believe did some searching of her own after receiving the first person's call, and ended up getting in contact with my friend Amanda. All of this work brought Kenya back home, and Bonnie bought a couple collars for them with her phone number on them. It's flea season, so their necks are pretty full these days. Bonnie will be keeping the cat indoors, against her wishes, for a while, at least until the coyotes cool down a bit. It made me realize how little I knew the neighbors when I lived there, as Kenya ended up about 4 doors down from Bonnie's house.
Catching Up
I wouldn't have found a gold level technician for Yamaha without my friends, nor the mechanic, Luis, whom we had met that morning not to mention a new chrome lid to replace the stolen one from PV. I got an oil change, fixed the leak on the clutch cover and oil filter, tightened my shock all in a half an hour without an appointment. It felt so good to be treated well, especially on such short notice.
Movie Premiere
My first movie premiere ever and it was all in Spanish. Javier Bardem was the star of 'Biutiful', and made an appearance for photos. I was unable to catch much of the dialogue of the movie, but the actor's portrayals were so intense I could follow the storyline. It certainly is a surreal experience to realize you are watching a movie in another country in another language. It is a feeling of being an alien, an observer into another world. The cinema itself was not unlike any other multiplex in North America, and my friends could speak excellent English with me at anytime, but it was different. Millions of people living their lives in other parts of the world ri
ght now, speaking different languages, following different customs, and caring less about whether you choose the white, or the red dress today. The stars were out and Mexico City's finest were in attendance.
Tirar de Basura
Mexico City's garbage dump is a private affair, surrounded by fences and unaccessible by the public. Future plans will be to continue the landfill until some point deemed necessary, cover the garbage, and begin development. As space here is so scarce, even the garbage dumps need to be reclaimed, and one of the city's most prominent, and wealthy areas has already gone through the process of garbage dump, to reclamation, to habitation. Monica's eyes teared up not from her sadness at saying goodbye, but were burning just from being over a km away.
Teotihuacan
An ancient people's handiwork is so ancient it was discovered by the Aztecs 15 centuries ago, who, without seeing any inhabitants, deemed it a gift from the gods. The sheer size of Teotihuacan's (Tayo-tee-wahcon) pyramids 50 km north of Mexico City was an homage to the sun, and moon in hopes of receiving plentiful harvests for their massive undertaking. There is much debate still as to who exactly these people were, but they have undoubtedly left their mark, and it has survived the ages, with millions of rocks expertly held together in perfect symmetry with the same material we rely on today - concrete. Built at 15.5 degrees east of north, the city's urban grid was precisely constructed to align with the sun at it's zenith in the summer months, and effectively kept track of the growing season for it's inhabitants.
Although their monument has stood the test of time, their civilization was unable to survive much past the 5th century A.D. Considered now to have been a multi-ethnic community, the human, and animal sacrifices these people performed to appease the gods, could not innoculate them against their own human trials. Evidence indicates extensive fire damage to only the areas inhabited by the ruling elite class, suggesting unrest among the civilization. It seems Teotihuacan continues to fight for it's place as a spiritual centre, as a Wal-Mart was built on the grounds in 2004, and an enormous light and sound show contends for the area, featuring large metallic structures, 2,500 lights and three kilometers of cables, according to Statesman.com.
Either way, this UNESCO World Heritage Site will continue to be a cherished spot for tourists, and business, alike. Filled with vendors selling everything from bow and arrows, to jaguar whistles to obsidian masks, it is a popular tourist destination for the locals as well. People of all ages scale the Pyramid of the Sun, and raise their hands in tradition at the top, possibly feeling the power and grand scale of human accomplishment, and a connection to their ancestors.
It is a cultural experience the locals use to connect with their ancestors. The nearby Wal-Mart is concealed from view.
Notes
Her school was a few minutes from my hotel so I followed her to pick up luis and get to her house. a near miss with Marivy's car following too close and an unexpected stopn the closest in 7 weeks of riding, ironic?
a warm welcome and 7 hours of hanging out at the cafe in zona rosa
the university stadium and home to the pumas futbol team and 20,000 rabid fans
luis commented i'm lucky to be alive after choosing a by-the-hour hotel, my first night in mexico city, after i asked him why couples were waiting in the lobby late at night - no rooms left!
a warm welcome and 7 hours of hanging out at the cafe in zona rosa
the university stadium and home to the pumas futbol team and 20,000 rabid fans
luis commented i'm lucky to be alive after choosing a by-the-hour hotel, my first night in mexico city, after i asked him why couples were waiting in the lobby late at night - no rooms left!
Pedro held-up twice, luis once, luis's dad express kidnap, pedro's friend express kidnap, marivy's house broken into twice and her dad's watch collection, and mom's jewellery gone. Laura's brother express kidnap. Everyone has a story in this city of extortion or violence, and a sad reminder that the residents of Mexico City are afraid to live in their own city. It is a tall order to walk through this city, knowing what can happen, and not feel fear, but one must. Mexico City is alive and vibrant, and with some common sense you can enjoy a wonderful life here. In case of a banking machine hi-jack, my sister tells me you can put your pin in backwards to alert the bank of your situation. Don't count your money in public.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
