Here's what I did this morning.
Got up at 5:30.
Meditated for thirty minutes.
Did HEAs (Health Enhancement Activities). These involve mostly stretching and abdominal strengthening. Have been using this euphemism instead of "exercise" to help me be more motivated.
Took a shower.
Brushed my teeth
Shaved.
Took medications. I'd make a list here but there's not enough room.
Walked with D for about a mile along quiet, cool early morning streets.
Picked up laundry at the lavanderia. Three pounds for sixty five pesos. ($3.46)
Had breakfast at our hotel. Huevos revueltos con tocino y jugo naranjo fresco. Breakfast is included with room fee. Hotel's restaurant "El Pipe" is wonderful.
Went to Intercambio at Oaxaca Lending Library (The link is to a 2016 post) Spent two hours speaking Spanish and English with Kathy from New Mexico and Luis from Oaxaca.
Bought a fifth of Jose Cuervo Especial at Pidico market. 136 pesos.
Walked to Mercado Social Sustentable
Ate some hand-made mango ice cream
Had a excellent cappuccino at a small shop on Avenida Reforma.
Called Dorothy. She requested a torta from La Hormiga. (the video that's part of this link is great!)
Purchased a chicken and cheese torta at La Hormiga in Jardin Conzatti (27 pesos) Muy saboroso!
Walked backed to the hotel.
Shared torta with D.
Started writing this blog post.
It is now 2:34 PM.
Walking distance so far today is 2.2 miles. Averaging 3.3/day on trip.
Hasta luego!
Saturday, February 8, 2020
Friday, February 7, 2020
Waiting For Nothing
"I want to fill my days with wanting nothing from them..."
This line is from a poem by Fernando Passao which I included in the "Hopeless Refuge" post a couple of weeks ago. It comes to mind as D and me laze in our hotel room in the middle of the afternoon until the mid-day heat fades. (It's currently 83 degrees outside)
Shouldn't we be doing more? Wanting more? We're both quietly content lying on top of our newly maid-made bed (getting under the sheets would be far too decadent and hot) reading, writing and watching a videos on our iphones.
The room is cool and shady with a fresh breeze coming through an open/shaded window.
Getting comfortable doing nothing is hard work!
We've been traveling for a week so far and I'm just starting to get the hang of it.
On Sunday, while we were waiting outside the Teatro Juarez before an exciting modern dance presentation.(2 Segundos), we met a man from Maine who lives in Oaxaca four months a year. He said that each year it takes him about three weeks to really settle in. He described the process as moving from him "doing Oaxaca" to Oaxaca "doing him."
This made sense to me. Every time I travel I'm amazed how much time it takes for relaxation mode to kick in. To find a place of calmness that makes it okay to not always be doing things.
This is our fifth visit here. We've already done our tourist duties. The things we've seen and done have been memorable and worthwhile but for most, once is enough. (The extordinary Monte Alban is a clear exception to this)
What do we do now? How do we let "Oaxaca do us?"
At this point, spending this peaceful afternoon in our pleasant room, waiting for nothing, seems like a good plan.
This line is from a poem by Fernando Passao which I included in the "Hopeless Refuge" post a couple of weeks ago. It comes to mind as D and me laze in our hotel room in the middle of the afternoon until the mid-day heat fades. (It's currently 83 degrees outside)
Shouldn't we be doing more? Wanting more? We're both quietly content lying on top of our newly maid-made bed (getting under the sheets would be far too decadent and hot) reading, writing and watching a videos on our iphones.
The room is cool and shady with a fresh breeze coming through an open/shaded window.
Getting comfortable doing nothing is hard work!
We've been traveling for a week so far and I'm just starting to get the hang of it.
On Sunday, while we were waiting outside the Teatro Juarez before an exciting modern dance presentation.(2 Segundos), we met a man from Maine who lives in Oaxaca four months a year. He said that each year it takes him about three weeks to really settle in. He described the process as moving from him "doing Oaxaca" to Oaxaca "doing him."
This made sense to me. Every time I travel I'm amazed how much time it takes for relaxation mode to kick in. To find a place of calmness that makes it okay to not always be doing things.
This is our fifth visit here. We've already done our tourist duties. The things we've seen and done have been memorable and worthwhile but for most, once is enough. (The extordinary Monte Alban is a clear exception to this)
What do we do now? How do we let "Oaxaca do us?"
At this point, spending this peaceful afternoon in our pleasant room, waiting for nothing, seems like a good plan.
Wednesday, February 5, 2020
Oaxaca beginning again
Back in Oaxaca
First four days settling in.
Travel anxiety lifting.
Shedding armor.
Slowly slowing down.
Morning walk to get D coffee. \
Empty, quiet streets.
Tuesday, February 4, 2020
Nuestro viaje a Mexico
Hello out there. Glad to see you made it back.
Response to last post was muted to say the least. Only direct comment I got was from a golfing buddy who gave me a quizzical look and then asked, "Were you on drugs when you wrote that?"
Okay. I get it. Some people may be made uncomfortable by a 72 year old, retired guy, speaking so directly and personally. After that comment I did feel a little embarrassed and considered removing the post. I talked to D about it and she, as usual, could only find positive things to say. She seems to think my writing could save the world. I ended up deciding to keep the post and not walk away from my global responsibilities 😊, accepting the fact, once again, that being myself can be a real challenge. I'm reminded of John Prine's song "A Good Time" with the line "I could of had me a million more friends, all I had to lose was my point of view."
Adelante a Mexico!
Realizations -
Traveling gets more difficult as you get older. Duh.
Por ejemplo,
Shrinking seat width and leg room make my arthritic joints angry.
Luckily I was sitting next to D and I could straighten my leg out under hers. It would be tough doing that with a stranger.
Keeping focus in the middle of travel craziness is harder.
When we arrived at Mexico City airport after a five hour uncomfortable flight, it took us about an hour to get through immigration. By the time we were able to get to the baggage carousel there were no bags from our flight. Uh-oh.
I spent about ten minutes looking and finally found our two bags grouped with four or five others at the other end of the long hall. During the search I had to ask several people for help and my ability to speak Spanish helped quite a bit. Would have been a lot more anxiety without it. Nevertheless my stress button was pulsating.
Next we tried to make our way to the main terminal concourse but D was stopped by a uniformed woman with a surgical mask. (Many, many people wearing these masks). She did a cursory inspection of D's carry on and let us pass. Never asked to look at mine. (This, by the way, is the second time in a row that D was stopped trying to enter Mexico. Two years ago she was busted by a drug-sniffing dog that nabbed her for having a banana in her purse.)
Next I tried to get some pesos from an ATM (cajero automatico) while an ocean of people passed by behind me. It took four or five tries to get the machine to work I was afraid the machine was going to swallow the card. Head spinning faster. I eventually, with the help of a friendly hombre, was able to withdraw 2000 pesos.in the form of four 500 peso bills. These are difficult to use because they're so big. 500 pesos =about $25. I shoved the bills into my back pocket (mistake) and we made our way to Door #4 of Terminal #1, about a half mile walk. Our hotel, Hotel Riazor Aeropuerto, had said there would be a staff person stationed there to call a van.
No staff person was found. Outside the door it was pure craziness. Sirens, horns, police whistles, yelling. A multitude of cabs, vans and Uber cars trying to twist into a very limited area to pick up people. I tried to call the hotel but couldn't get the number to work. I asked a guy, who was waiting for an Uber, to help me call. He made the call and told me the van would arrive in about 10 minutes. He said we'd be better off taking an Uber. "They're 95% safe." In October, Mexico City was ground to a halt by a protest against Uber by 4000 taxi drivers. This protest included a blockade of airport roads. (picture above is from October protest)
I went back into the terminal and was able to get the 500 peso note changed at a money exchange shop. I put the smaller bills in my back pocket, too. (mistake compounded) I rushed back to Door #4 where a woman was shouting the name of our hotel. It turns out she was the staff person we were trying to find. She had been there the whole time chatting with her friends. She was wearing no clothing or sign to identify her.
The van eventually came. We careened through 10 PM heavy Mexico City traffic. When we arrived at the hotel I reached into my back pocket to get a tip for the driver and found I was missing a 500 peso note . It probably fell out of my pocket when I was getting change. I beat myself up a bit for being careless.
We checked into our hotel and went directly to the bar while our bags were brought up to our room. "Centenario" reposado tequila on the rocks con limon. Whew!
Despite all this it truly felt wonderful to be back in Mexico.
Response to last post was muted to say the least. Only direct comment I got was from a golfing buddy who gave me a quizzical look and then asked, "Were you on drugs when you wrote that?"
Adelante a Mexico!
Realizations -
Traveling gets more difficult as you get older. Duh.
Por ejemplo,
Shrinking seat width and leg room make my arthritic joints angry.
Luckily I was sitting next to D and I could straighten my leg out under hers. It would be tough doing that with a stranger.
Keeping focus in the middle of travel craziness is harder.
When we arrived at Mexico City airport after a five hour uncomfortable flight, it took us about an hour to get through immigration. By the time we were able to get to the baggage carousel there were no bags from our flight. Uh-oh.
I spent about ten minutes looking and finally found our two bags grouped with four or five others at the other end of the long hall. During the search I had to ask several people for help and my ability to speak Spanish helped quite a bit. Would have been a lot more anxiety without it. Nevertheless my stress button was pulsating.
Next we tried to make our way to the main terminal concourse but D was stopped by a uniformed woman with a surgical mask. (Many, many people wearing these masks). She did a cursory inspection of D's carry on and let us pass. Never asked to look at mine. (This, by the way, is the second time in a row that D was stopped trying to enter Mexico. Two years ago she was busted by a drug-sniffing dog that nabbed her for having a banana in her purse.)Next I tried to get some pesos from an ATM (cajero automatico) while an ocean of people passed by behind me. It took four or five tries to get the machine to work I was afraid the machine was going to swallow the card. Head spinning faster. I eventually, with the help of a friendly hombre, was able to withdraw 2000 pesos.in the form of four 500 peso bills. These are difficult to use because they're so big. 500 pesos =about $25. I shoved the bills into my back pocket (mistake) and we made our way to Door #4 of Terminal #1, about a half mile walk. Our hotel, Hotel Riazor Aeropuerto, had said there would be a staff person stationed there to call a van.
No staff person was found. Outside the door it was pure craziness. Sirens, horns, police whistles, yelling. A multitude of cabs, vans and Uber cars trying to twist into a very limited area to pick up people. I tried to call the hotel but couldn't get the number to work. I asked a guy, who was waiting for an Uber, to help me call. He made the call and told me the van would arrive in about 10 minutes. He said we'd be better off taking an Uber. "They're 95% safe." In October, Mexico City was ground to a halt by a protest against Uber by 4000 taxi drivers. This protest included a blockade of airport roads. (picture above is from October protest)
I went back into the terminal and was able to get the 500 peso note changed at a money exchange shop. I put the smaller bills in my back pocket, too. (mistake compounded) I rushed back to Door #4 where a woman was shouting the name of our hotel. It turns out she was the staff person we were trying to find. She had been there the whole time chatting with her friends. She was wearing no clothing or sign to identify her.
The van eventually came. We careened through 10 PM heavy Mexico City traffic. When we arrived at the hotel I reached into my back pocket to get a tip for the driver and found I was missing a 500 peso note . It probably fell out of my pocket when I was getting change. I beat myself up a bit for being careless. We checked into our hotel and went directly to the bar while our bags were brought up to our room. "Centenario" reposado tequila on the rocks con limon. Whew!
Despite all this it truly felt wonderful to be back in Mexico.
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