Showing posts with label mexico. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mexico. Show all posts

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Uruapan






This weekend, we went to Uruapan. It was by far the coolest excursion yet. 

We went to another old church, but this church was covered in volcanic rock. Years ago (I don't remember when), the volcano Paricutin erupted and destroyed the town, all except the church. Now, the towers and altar of the church still stand. 

To get to the ruins, we rode on horses up through the mountains. The horses knew how to get there, so we didn't really have to do anything but sit there. Due to my many vacation experiences in the Smokey Mountains, I am an expert at riding horses on a mountain path. I knew all about leaning forward going up a hill and backward going down. Plus, we had little guides. There were about five 10-year-old boys who walked with the horses to keep them in line. The boys were funny and cute and knew what they were doing. We talked to them as we went. Since their first language was Purépecha, not Spanish, they were easy to understand.

When we got up into the hardened lava, most of the ground was black, but vegetation has started to grow again, so it was black with bright green popping up. It looked cool, but I was on a horse, so I didn't take a picture. 

I think it's pretty amazing how everything else was destroyed but the church still stands. I mean, yeah, it probably was the tallest and best-built building in the town, but the rock just stops in front of the altar, like there was some sort of shield around it. Something super-natural. 



Oh, and note my sweet new headband. 

Sunday, January 18, 2009

arroz y frijoles

Mexican food is not at all what the stereotype is. I guess there is a lot of rice, and I have had beans and tortillas and tacos and quesadillas and guacamole. Okay, so maybe the stereotype does have truth in it. But it’s not like we have tacos and burritos every day, at least we don’t in the house I live in. For breakfast, I eat fruit and cereal (Carlos is lactose-intolerant, so it’s deslactosada, much to my delight), maybe some yogurt or a bun. Oh, and fresh squeezed orange juice….mmmm.

 

By noon, I’m starving. Today in class, my stomach hurt it was so hungry. We don’t eat la comida, the big meal, until about 2:30, but by then, my stomach has closed in on itself, and the first course of soup or rice does nicely to ease the pain. By the second course, the main part of the meal, I don’t really feel hungry anymore, but you can’t skip the main course, so I eat it. I’ve discovered a strange phenomenon, though, because I have yet to feel over-stuffed, but on the last few bites, I’m praying that I’ll be able to chew. Please swallow, please swallow, please swallow.  Maybe since the food is new, I think more about it instead of just shoveling it down, or my stomach just is overwhelmed.

 

We eat again around 9. Cena has been a sandwich or quesadillas, something small, and I always have chocomil, which is Mexican for “chocolate milk.” I’m usually a little hungry, but really just want to go to bed.

 

Now, don’t think I’m not well fed here, or that I hate everything I have to eat. So far, it seems like at each comida, there’s something I like a lot and something I’m not so sure about. Certain things, like meat, I am just picky about, and as long as my Mexican mother tells me not to eat it if I don’t like it, I’m not going to eat the fatty parts of meat. Carlos and Ana (his girlfriend) both left an entire taco on their plates last night. I make a good attempt.

 

There has really only been one thing that I could not eat, and it was dessert, so I was full anyway. It was like a jello fruit pie. There was a layer of jello and a layer of custard-like jello with fruit cocktail in between. Not so bad? Well, I hate jello. The jiggling makes me gag. When I first saw it, I knew I was in trouble. I thought I’d try it because usually I can stand jello when there is fruit in it. No. The jello was clear and flavorless, plain gelatin. Anyway, I took a few bites and couldn’t do it. And, when she asked me if I liked it, I said, “no mucho.” I figure if I’m honest when I don’t like something, then when I say I do like something, she knows it’s true.