¿Qué tal con el pelo?

The wind is out of the northwest for a day or two now, bending my palms at the waist - pushing sand and bichas through every crack the builders left unsealed.  I'm pleased to see the waves chopping away at the mounds of seaweed left by normal tides, but I could do without the howling sounds all night (unless I'm responsible).  I'm probably one of three customers in the place right now, and the other two look like they're competing for the "look like an asshole in Mexico" trophy. 

We've been whipping Mighty Fine into shape for sellin', believe that.  The painting is finally done, they're repairing the sinkhole in the garage (builder didn't reinforce the concrete with rebar....), and I spent the morning loading wheelbarrows with old concrete and tile, schlepping it up to the entrance of the property to pave a portion of the driveway (under the powder/sand for some strangth, ya'll).  The wheelbarrow had a flat tire, so it was an extra special workout for my everything, really.  Manuel, the guy in charge of the crew fixing the floor, was drunk at 10 am.  He said the same thing over and over and over.  I asked him how many cervezas he'd had that morning so far, and he became un poco furioso.  I think he tried to use the excuse that banks are closed today for drinking, perhaps it was lost in translation.  I rebuilt the aluminum hinge on the door upstairs, and the replacement glass should be here on Wednesday for the front sliding door.  Treats all around.

 January is wrapping itself up nicely, and it's strange to think I've been here almost 2 months already.  I don't want to jinx it, but I've hooked up with a guy named Ricardo who is very interested in buying the house.  He's a rich guy from Merida, lives in Chino Hills currently, and he's down here from time to time for cruising around on his little yacht.  I've got a copy of the appraisal to him with some extra pictures for his wife, and I may hear something in the next couple weeks or so. 

On a lighter note - my hair is out of control.  I haven't cut it since well before my exit in early December, and the rooster point you've grown to know and love is history.  I'm trying to figure out what to do with it, right now I'm rocking a combed back look (think Hannibal Lector meets the Major from Inglorious Bastards meets your Mom).  This situation, combined with my ever-improving espanol (poco a poco), are creating quite the combination down here south of the border.  In short, if I wasn't me, and I saw me out, I'd punch myself.  Que Bueno!

For those of you concerned with the wellbeing and whereabouts of one Negrito El Perro, he is around and doing quite well.  I've recently found out that he's only about 6 months old, his father lives up the road and is appropriately named "Loco", and that the white dog he's been dry-humping for the last few weeks is actually his sister from the same litter, as opposed to his brother from another mother.  Again...Que Bueno!  What's even more que buenoer than that, is Diego the goofball ignored our warnings of "wasp!" while cleaning some plants, and was stung just under that crazy eye of his.  If it's possible, he's even more handsome now with the white/green pus leaking from the corner of his eye.  Mmmmm.

I'm so hungry right now, you don't even know.  I shall wrap up this gorgeous mass of words with the following:  Just because the drunk Mexican guy that looks like a deranged Bill Murray with a mullet THINKS he's helping you back up your car into an empty street, doesn't mean you should give him 5 pesos for a tip.  He's just going to buy booze with it.  Buy him a sandwich.  Andale!

Interesting, I've returned to pen more thoughts after a substantial period of time ( Ya boy iz back )

I can't wait to eat these papas fritas coming my way.  Se come muy bien con mayonesa y salsa habanero!  My brothers have come and gone, I've trucked it to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chichen_itza , and as soon as these fries are comfortably resting in my duodenum, I'm off to find a store that sells supplies for the workers at my place right now.  Mi amigo Abel has been instrumental, steering me in the general direction of stores I'm looking for - street addresses are a little odd down here, as are many things.

Simultaneously nervous and estatic about conducting business in Spanish, I've found I can hack my way through most things involving paint, gas, weather, etc.  I'm trying to keep away from English as much as possible, save for this blog and the emails back home.  I'm investing in a cheap external dvd drive for my netbook, as bootleg movies for 30 pesos are very common here, and they are in Spanish almost always.  It should supplement my legally obtained Rosetta Stone and conversations con mis amigos aca.

The street vendors and manual laborers have given me a greater insight into the poverty in Mexico.  I understand other states nearby (Campeche, Chiapas, etc) are even worse.  I'd imagine they have less income from tourism, which makes sense based on location.  The intricate work on some of these masks, or rugs, or whatever is amazing, and the price reflects how low they value their own labor (based on demand, of course).  I hope to get invited to the painters house at some point for a cerveza, they seem to really like me for a white-boy living in a big house.  I've shown these guys I know what's up with regard to the usual method of painting, taking slight advantage of gringos, etc.  No mixing agua with the paint, then taking a new bucket home for yourself.  No, you can't paint over dirt because it's easier.  I'm not upset about these things, I understand how it works and what I've got to watch for, and I think I get more respect for that in addition to not speaking the english. 

I've decided at some point to rent a motorcycle, grab my hammock, and head out for 5-6 days south around Mexico and Belize.  Supposedly, the land rises up southwest of here, and we'll all know how much I like elevation in reasonable amounts.  I can't touch Martin's sea level to http://www.geonames.org/3521567/volcan-pico-de-orizaba.html in one day - solo.  I think it was this peak.  It won't be for a while, I need to get the house painted and ready, and I'd like to at least wait until I had a buyer with a down payment - sort of a reward for success.  We'll see how it goes, I'm hoping Ricardo makes a move and we can all put this behind us.  I've got a few more things to do before I settle down a bit, and I'm looking forward to the next several years. 

Bonus pics of 4 boys without supervision:

comida y amor

I've decided this will be more pictures and less talking, let's see how that goes.  It's 2 days until I pick up the brothers, I believe.  I've been washing sheets/towels and removing turditos from the spare bedrooms.  Wiley is bringing a friend, they'll be hi-fiving each other from the twin beds in the third bedroom.  I'm hoping the weather takes a turn for the better, it's been a wee bit chilly and gray as of late.

I'm trying to stay fit, not only in the British sense, but the regular sense as well.  Every other day or so I go out back, use my body weight to exercise (pullups, pushups, standing calf raises, etc), and then try to eat a little extra protein.  I've been told not to get too lean, so I'm supplementing my protein with chips/salsa/beer.   The stray cats are often hard to track down, unless you feed them half a dog-treat. 

I need to remember to take more pictures of daily things here - the way homes are built, trash is handled, Coke is consumed like water, etc are all in need to having some hot amateur pictures taken of them.  The nose detects the acrid evidence of plastic burning well before your eyes catch the dull white smoke from one of many rubbish fires along the roads.  It's either burn it, or vacant-lot it.  This picture is very typical of any place not yet developed in the little towns cerca de mi casa.

This little hotel is one of a couple spots I find myself more often than I should, answering emails and handling my "business" with the other gringos in the area.  It's a battle with the mosquitos or the business-woman that hogs the network cable each time, but I return to fight again and again.  The devil you know, I guess.  Libros y Sueños.

No quiero casarte

I just realized I have a font on here called "Trebuchet".  Isn't that the cool old weapon, similar to a catapult, used to knock down walls or toss projectiles over them?  It was like the siege tank of that day - the most powerful weapon in the game (where ya at, Willy dog?!?!?!)  This has nothing to do with Mexico.

I'm trying my best not to hop on cnn.com or signonsandiego.com while I'm here in Mexico.  The U.S. seems so far away and is so far out of my mind, but if I take a little peek into the old reality, I end up right back in the mix of Obama did this and Rush had a heart-attack and Some crazy negro burned his junk trying to blow up a plane.  I love reading the occasional article concerning someone stumblling upon a tribe in the middle of the jungle somewhere - living like it did 800 years ago, with little to no knowledge of the world around them.  It seems like an awfully lame and unbelievably awesome way to exist.  I find myself staring once again at the back of an overweight gringo in the little lobby of the hotel I go to for internet access.  I wonder if the locals view me with as much disdain as I do the other tourists?  Why am I such an angry mofo?

Breaking news:  I just got off a skype call with my brauthers Wiley and Shawn - they are coming down to visit in a bit, and we were fine-tuning the plans.  I'm laughing at myself - it all seemed so normal to me to advise them that, should we get in an accident in the car, if I'm not hurt...I need them to beat me up a little so I'll go to the hospital instead of jail.  ¡Viva México!  Hopefully Mom skips this entry.

I spent a good portion of the day in Merida yesterday, wandering around looking for a good hammock.  I made some friends, and they took me to a really solid little mercado to talk to an uncle who ran a little shop.  He showed me the sub-par cotton hammocks that he normally sold to the gringos, but I got the secret stash (he had to pull back the counter to reveal a hidden storage compartment) - my hammock is the business!  Apparently, a good majority of the local people sleep in hammocks.  They build a lot of the homes with very strong strategically placed anchor points in the wall, so you can get 3 or 4 hammocks in one bedroom vs one or two beds.  In the morning, you take them down and put them away, and the space is used for something else.  The air circulation under you is a huge plus in the hot summers here, too.  I'm trying to sleep in mine instead of the bed now, last night was the first try and I didn't sleep very well.  It will take some getting used to.  I didn't know this, but you aren't supposed to sleep lengthwise, you sleep at an angle across the strands, so it opens up and your back is almost flat.  Good stuff.

Run, Forrest. Run!

I played referee to my aging Italian friend Joan and her live-in Mexican "security guard" for a bit, watched cans of beers fly over perimeter walls and middle fingers raised.  I had my fill of that, and after realizing it was actually New Years Eve (thought is was actually today), I trucked it back home to prepare for my night out. 

Last night was a full moon, a Blue moon to be exact, and it was just what I needed to light my path through the snakes and scorpions.  Most of the people I know were drinking, dancing, and celebrating at the local restaurants or niteclubs for the night.  I choose to drive out into the dark, park about a mile outside of some Mayan ruins, and hike in to sit on top of them for a bit and welcome the new year.  I got a little more than I bargained for.

The moon was so bright, I didn't even need my flashlight.  I brought it just in case (thanks Ehud), and after I coated my pants and long-sleeved shirt with bug repellant, I headed off towards the ruins.  I had my knife with me, of course, and a club of sorts I had made an hour before I left.  Who knows what good I'd do with either, but it made me feel a little bit better.  The sounds of the owls and other birds around me were so clear and a little creepy, to be honest.  Bats would swoop down near my head, hopefully intercepting the bugs that were themselves swooping on me.  As I approached the main area where the largest ruins were, a dog started to bark.

Great.  Entonces,  a second dog starts barking.  I checked the bottle of spray I had put on my clothing, but it only said ticks and mosquitos - nothing about dogs.  Dang it!  I was probably 300 yards from the spot I wanted to be, and I wasn't about to give up.  I continued forward, and every step I took was SO loud.  The dogs, bored with just standing and barking, decided that they weren't going to give up either.  The barking grew louder and barkier, and I decided that I wasn't in the mood to tangle with a couple dogs.  I turned around and headed back in the direction I'd came from, but the dogs weren't satisfied.  I could tell they were running towards me from the sounds, and I took off running as fast as my worn-out trail runners would carry me.  I ran until I couldn't continue, and it sounded like they had given up behind me, although the barking continued in place and would do so for almost the entire time I was there.  I hoped that there wasn't un hombre that lived there full time that would come look for me.  I think it was hombre-free, solo perros. 

I decided that I wasn't done yet.  I was going to flank the dogs if I could, whatever that means, and accomplish my goal.  As I headed off into the undergrowth, I sent out anti-snake vibes into the plants.  Turns out, on the way to my goal, I found some smaller ruins off to the side that I didn't even know about.  Que Sorpresa!  Is that even a word?  I was very happy to avoid the dogs again, so I climbed around on these for a bit, took some pictures with a 15 second exposure, listened to the animals and insects around me, and the old year went and the new year came - out there under the Blue moon.