Parades of Mexico

I recently attended a parade for el Día de la Revolución.  It took place a few days before Thanksgiving in the US, so, although it was totally unrelated, I did get a day off last week.  The day of the parade, I awoke to a message from my coworkers saying that the parade was about to pass the office and that you could grab a chair there for a great view.  I rushed to get dressed and ran out the door, taking time to lather myself in sunblock but not to eat.  As I approached the office and saw that the parade was nowhere in sight, I slowed down and ate some street tacos while chatting with my host family. 

 My favorite float in the parade. 

Two members of the band that kicked off the parade. 

I anticipated that at least one other person from my office would be at the office watching the parade, per the group text messages that morning, but alas, I was alone.  Since there was shade on the street, I decided to grab a chair and see if anyone else might eventually come.  They sadly did not, so when I got a call 1.5 hours later from some friends saying they were at my apartment with a very important Costco delivery of toilet paper and peanut butter, I headed out early.

Parades are super popular here in Mexico which is great for a parade-lover like me.  There are, however, a few things you should know about the parades here, which differ in some aspects from parades back in the US. 

• There’s often a 5- to 10-minute break between each entry in the parade, especially if you're at the half-way or later mark in the parade route.  That means you spend a lot of time sitting and waiting (and thus, should try to have at least one friend with you when attending a parade). 
• You can only see parade participants “perform” at certain places along the route.  Look for those really full sidewalks because that is where the dancers, acrobats, bands, boxers, etc. are going to perform, usually for 3-7 minutes.  
• The bulk of parade participants will be students from local schools.   You’ll see representatives from every local school decked out in full uniform, marching very precisely and very loudly playing drums and trumpets.
• There’s also a strong showing by local government and the military. The government workers usually march in matching shirts, in groups segregated by gender.

 Soldiers participating in the parade. 

 I'm always a fan of a hat attached to the hood of a truck. 

• Royalty is huge here.  You’ll find several people wearing crowns in every parade. 
• In lieu of traditional floats, people decorate the back of their trucks – quite elaborately – and sometimes have a rope for the princess/queen to hold onto for security.
• If you’re a kid, get ready for some sweets because all those trucks filled with royalty will toss out free candy!  
• Each parade usually takes about 3 hours to complete so come prepared with a hat, water and snacks.

 There's always lots of royalty in our parades. 

Well-dressed parade participants. 

 This is one of those 5-minute acrobatic acts along the parade route. 

 Brave gymnasts atop a truck. 

I appreciate the strong community spirit behind each parade that I’ve witnessed here in Mexico.  They usually terminate in the town plaza where vendors are set up selling food and beverages and someone is usually playing or performing music.  I headed back to the plaza after taking delivery of my Costco goods and arrived just in time to see a group of fearless youngsters building human pyramids on top of a large truck (another key feature of most local parades).  I also received a free bottle of water, which was much appreciated since the sun was super strong and it was 88 degrees in late November. 

So, if you are planning a future trip to Mexico and you want a taste of local flavor, I highly recommend visiting when you can check out a local parade.  Looking for a calendar of holidays and celebrations in Mexico?  Check out this link from Frommer's. 

The Six-Month Countdown

I’ve decided that here in my part of Mexico, we have two seasons: the season when water enters your apartment (the rainy season) and the season when you have to sweep up dirt coming through your windows every day (the dry season).  My kitchen ceiling still bears the scars of the rainy season, but we are clearly back in the dry season, as evidenced by the constant, thin layer of dirt inside my home.  It’s kind of weird (and kind of comforting) to know that I will not have to pass another rainy season here, only because I hope to never live in fear of constant indoor flooding again.  

When you hit the half-way point as a volunteer, it’s natural to start looking at your time left and perhaps initiate a countdown, no matter how much you love your post.  I was doing a pretty good job resisting that until I went to the US for 6 weeks.  Upon my return, I was suddenly very aware of how little time I had left (only 6 months left in my 27-month service).  

You can see my new pump in the blue bottle, which I can no longer lift to put into it's special pouring device (i.e. where the orange bottle is now). 

Water damage on my ceiling. It looks a lot worse in person. 

Ok, dropping 5 eggs between your stove and counter is not unique to Mexico but it was uniquely difficult to clean up. So. Much. Yolk. 

There’s definitely an element of anxiety associated with the countdown, mostly related to money, health care and the loss of daily access to fresh, homemade salsa and tortillas.  As I lay in bed at night, my mind starts racing with thoughts like these: 

• OMG, I have no source of income, no car, no possessions, no place to live, etc. as of May 27, 2018.  
• What if I can’t find a job? 
• What if I can’t find a job for a really, really long time? 
• What if I can only find a job in a place that is far, far away from my family?
• What if it’s a job that pays like $60k less per year than my last job? Is that ok?   
• Should I start looking for a job now? 
• What if I get offered a job before the end of my service? I really want to stay till the end.  But what if that’s the only job I ever get offered again? 
• Will I be able to afford health insurance without a job?  
• How am I going to see everything I want to see in Mexico in the remaining months?  
• Would it look bad on my resume if I just traveled and lived off savings for a few months after my service ended?  Can I afford to do that and pay health insurance?  
• How am I going to get all this awesome stuff I've accumulated out of Mexico with only two suitcases weighing 50 pounds each?  
• Oh god, what was that noise? Was that inside the house or outside the house?  
• Ahhhh! Something just touched my hand!!! It's a demogorgon! Oh wait, that was me.
• Is that a tree limb shadow in the window or some new, giant breed of killer lizard that can open windows and wants to eat my brains?

You get the picture.  During the day, I can usually keep those thoughts at bay as Mexico is always offering distractions.  This past week I got to meet two employees from US Consulate who are stationed in the closest big city.  They had a meeting with our town’s mayor and then found me at a local restaurant – where I was dining with 20 other people – for a quick hello.  They were both dressed in linen suits which was definitely out of place for our small mountain town, but they were also both very friendly.

My large lunch took place with project partners and funders from France and Mexico City.  I’ve never seen so many different types of local cheeses, cookies, beverages and treats heaped upon a more grateful group of people.  I personally found my new favorite cheese during this fete.  It’s called “queso borracho,” which literally translates to “drunk cheese,” but translates in your mouth to delicious, non-alcoholic cheese that should be spread on blue corn tortilla chips and eaten every day.  I imagine it would be extra awesome if eaten while listening to mariachi music, but I had to settle for street tacos when I went to a mariachi gala in the town plaza earlier this week. 

That's me telling some of our project partners who I am and why I'm here.

You can see my beloved queso borracho in the back. 

Those "empanadas" are filled with a kind of gelled milk filling. 

 Enjoying the music of an all-female mariachi band.

A few days later I arrived at the office to find that we had no running water.  Apparently, the gardener left the water on in the backyard all night and emptied the big tank of water on our roof.  Thus, whenever I needed to use the bathroom that day, I had to walk about 5 minutes to the closest public restroom and pay for the privilege of peeing.  And every day since I’ve returned, I’ve had to navigate a never-ending maze of sidewalks and streets currently under construction, which does not make for the best commute to work for someone who recently had back surgery and really, really does not want to twist anything or fall.

That door you can see is for the bank and it's still totally open for business. You just have to step over/around all this stuff. 

Sooooooo much sidewalk construction. 

So there you have it - with 6 months to go I'm obsessing over what I'm going to do with my life, trying not to fall while walking around town, and working really hard to stay mentally focused in the present.  I know that everything is going to be fine and I’m going to find another great job in a great place, close to the people I love, at exactly the time I want it, but if you also want to tell me that/put that out to the universe, that can only help ;) 

Adulting in the Peace Corps

When I was in my 20s, I asked my grandma when she felt like an adult, as I was still waiting for that feeling to arrive.  She told me "honey, in my mind I'm still 16; it's just my body that works different."  While 16-year old Autumn is still alive and well (she's the one who asked for all the gummy worms), I can say that my time as a Peace Corps volunteer helped me finally feel like an adult.  A few key things have happened to help crystalize that feeling, as described below. 

One of my favorite mountain communities. 

One of my favorite buildings in town. 

• I spend a lot of time with people in their early 20s and I recognize what a special point they are at in their lives and how things are just beginning for them. 

• I find that articles that talk about “what I would have told my younger self” really resonate with me these days.  That can’t be a good sign.

• I have a desire to share the wisdom gained from reading the above articles with people younger than me, and they soooooooo are not interested.  These kids today.

• I’ve started wearing black jeans.  I’m not saying that young, hip kids don’t wear black jeans, but mine are very reminiscent of my mother’s wardrobe when I was a kid.  The fact that I love my black jeans, which are rapidly fading and cut off at the bottom, and that I want to wear them every single day – with Birkenstocks – is probably not a good sign. 

• I finally learned how to wash clothes by hand and consistently ignite the pilot light on a boiler. 

• I've gotten over my fear of grease burns while cooking bacon. 

A lovely old church in a mountain town far, far away. 

My boss approaching the church doors. 

A very old bell that invites people to mass. 

• I find myself constantly reading articles about how happiness is based on relationships and giving.  I recently read this article in "Yes" magazine and I was "amen-ing" left and right: "Sustainable happiness comes from...loving relationships, thriving natural and human communities, opportunities for meaningful work, and a few simple practices, like gratitude."  

• I am reveling in the fact that my only real responsibility these days is paying my rent and electric/internet bill.  I’m not sure that you can fully appreciate how joyful it is to only have 2 bills to pay every month (that add up to only $130 US) until you’ve spent sufficient time adulting with a lot more financial responsibility than that.

• I find myself amazed by “new” technological innovations.  Like when I learned I could use my cell phone for internet access without a SIM card – I just needed wifi.  Or when my friend sent me a package that for some reason contained Macworld Magazine.  I finally understood why the new iPhone didn’t have a headphone jack.  I also kept saying “Whaaaaaaat?  There’s an app that can do that?”  It was very reminiscent of a reaction you might expect from an elderly relative.  

View from a ranch in el campo. 

Blooming flowers. 

• I've decided the most important thing for me to spend money on when I'm back in the US is a good mattress. 

• I'm worried about my future health care and retirement options. I worry about this a lot and try not to constantly stress about this 2-year hiatus from contributing to those accounts.   

• Much like a grandparent with bad hearing who asks you to repeat everything you say, I too ask “mande?” several times a day.  Thank goodness the people here are more patient with me than I am with my grandma.