Why am I so sad again?
Was Puerto all that triggering?
Was my improvement nothing more than delusion?
When the fuck is this done?
I really hate non linear processes.
The problem with flirting is that when life gets real it’s so obviously not just a flirt buddy I want. Whatever I’d been imposing on this flirtation, be it someone who cares about my day, someone who will say Good morning as though I’m special, none of that holds up against a wave of sad. Maybe I’m being unfair, maybe it would. But I don’t think I’m ready to ugly cry there. Hell, I’m not sure I’m ready to pretty cry.
I don’t know if this about is about Mike or about not knowing what I’m doing with myself. I know I want to talk to him more during this round. I still don’t, but I want to.
Maybe it’s just a reprieve or shift in the pain, in my world, in my life and then a return to what is my now. I keep returning to the Albert Brooks piece- the four components of happiness are Faith/Philosophy, Family, Friendship, Meaningful Work.
Sunday I went with the hiking crew to Arcos del Sitio, also known as the Xalpa Aqueduct. It’s a little under 2 hours northeast of the city center and is a dry and desert like landscape. Construction of the aqueduct began in the early 18th century by the Jesuits, but was disrupted by their explusion in 1767. Later, Count Manuel Romero de Terreros III would take up the work and the aqueduct was completed in 1854.
It’s enormous. running about a quarter of a mile over a 200 ft canyon and featuring 43 arches. Now it’s essentially a pedestrian bridge at an ecological park. Ecological parks in Mexico are not what an American might think. It’s essentially an outdoor area with some outdoor activities. There’s usually hiking, but also restaurants, bars, ziplining and rope bridges, sometimes ATVs or trampolines. There are not educational activities about nature. There is not an abudance of protected flora and fauna. It’s not a bunch of nature nerds. It’s often a bunch of families with young children. These are not the ecoparks of Costa Rica.
This was a hot hike. Lots of sun, few trees. We were a group of 4, Liz, Isabelle, myself & Rich. After crossing the Arcos we headed up a steep meadow through dry grass. The ground underneath was rocky and Liz warned us about everything that might harm us including biting ants, slightly poisonous spiders, and rattlesnakes and encouraged us to use our poles liberally to fend off these potential threats. As is we only encountered the ants and they had considerately built their home in plain sight to one side of the trail.
We kept going steadily uphill until we reached an oak grove at which point we began to move more laterally on the hillside. And basically at some point completely lost any semblance of a trail and used poles to hack our way up through bramble and plant life, occassionally coming across a “trail” that might open up for 20 feet or so before abruptly ending. But we knew UP was our goal and so up we went. This section was steep, although fortunately more shady.
We finally arrived at a crest of the hill and here the ground was yellowed grass rather than bramble and there was a bit of trail or at least clear space to walk. We proceeded up the crest toward the cross atop the hill.
The sun was intense, so we beat a pretty quick retreat back down into the trees, opting for a different route, following a more established path down the hill. This path was somewhat easier, but we spent more time in the sun and actually the overgrown rock field was a bit of challenge. You couldn’t really tell what you’d be stepping onto next. But on the way down we did encounter several tejocote trees with ripening fruit. I don’t actually know that the tree and the fruit bear the same name, but I’ve decided they do. The tejocote is a type of hawthorn, it’s a small yellow fruit that tastes somewhere like a plum, apple, apricot and remains quite firm. It’s rarely eaten raw and is generally used to make ponche, the traditional christmas punch which generally includes sugarcane, tamarind, cinnamon, a bunch of fruit (tejocote, guava, prunes, apples, etc) and optional booze.
We ended our hike sucking down agua de jamaica and some very indifferent gorditas. It wasn’t a pariticularly long hike but the sun exposure had drained us all a bit.
On the way back to the city we encountered a cone dressed up as a man, then a little further down the road, a man directly traffic for no apparent reason. There was no construction, hazard, or even intersection. Past him was another dressed up cone. Cars stopped and tipped him. And this another example of Mexican ingenuity in employment seeking. People do self proclaimed work that is simply not self proclaimable in the US. You do not get to decide to charge money for parking & car protection on particular blocks, you do not get to wash people’s windows while they are at a red light, one doesn’t see people wandering around with portable shoeshines, and you most definitely do not get to self direct traffic of your own accord.
I had a nightmare. A proper one. This is not common for me. I remember as a kid having occassional nightmares generally focused around wild animals eating my family one by one. But now, they punch me in the gut. For me, kid nightmares were about losing valuable pieces of my life, my family, my stuffed animal, my favorite t shirt. But now they’re like gut punches inflating everywhere I feel inadequate. Almost makes me miss everyone being eaten. Although maybe as a kid I couldn’t just wake up and dismiss the people eating wild animal theory as readily as I now can. This one featured Mike, and the new girlfriend. In it, I thought he wanted me, but then he kicked me out of the house with no where to go and whlie I’m rather thankful I don’t recall the details, his rejection featured pretty much everything I view as a weakness in myself. I called for help to everyone and no one was there. And there was this caricature of Molly, the new girlfriend, goading me, asking me for help, laughing through the whole. She was like a puppet. He was so casually mean.
I googled dreams of inadequacy and rejection when I woke up and learned that they often feature failure, missing an exam, etc and that they stem from anxiety or unfinished business of the heart. This I had already intuited. It felt like a setback. I’m just pleading with him and myself, being like “no, no, no, no, you do not belong in my psyche. Get on out of there.”
This week I started to develop a running pattern. And granted, at this point it doesn’t take much, but I ran enough to get up a good layer of sweat. It feels good. I can’t run far and I can’t run fast, but both feel possible. Also couldn’t help but notice how much better I feel in mind and body for the exercise. I think I kept assuming walking was enough, but this week is making me reassess that notion.
It’s been extra helpful cause I’m noticing that the holidays are making me a bit sadder. It’s some combo of the whole point being family and friends, and I think I feel more divided due to the very real divide in our relative climates. And just overall, missing a merry holiday season. Don’t get me wrong, there’s lovely things here and I’m getting to see so many folks over these 2 months that I don’t really have much room for complaint. But I miss hosting a Christmas party, decorating a tree, Thaksgiving food. And while some of those I could technically do here, I think old traditions just make me feel the loss and new ones take some time to carve out and find a place in one’s story.
The weekend has been all about school work and then more school work. Today I took a break and Leo & I walked up to Jardin del Arte Parque Sullivan. Every weekend, numerous plazas through out the city feature art markets. This was a new one for me and only a little over a 20 minute walk from my house to the north through the Juarez neighborhood. It’s really one of my favorite neighborhoods in the city, definitely upscale, with big trees and gorgeous architecture and then it gives way to a vibrant and loud gay community. Apparently it also has a sizeable Korean population. And one of my favorite chocolate places.
We stopped for tacos on the way. When I hit Reforma, a major street in the city, a recent protest had left large photos of disappeared individuals from whom justice has not been served. It’s reminiscent of the crimes against Native American women where investigations are half hearted and vanish into thin air. I think the issue has more visibility here although equally little action has been taken.
These art markets are incredible. Local artists just set up with their work. There’s generally signs all over the place asking people not to take pictures, so I respected that guideline. But it’s maybe a 100 artists, just hanging out selling art. Sometimes they’re also smoking weed. While painting dominates, there is also sculpture, photography, and glass work represented.
I crossed the plaza to the Monument of the Mother (more prominently featured my The First of Many Taco Editions) and then crossed the plaza to head back home and back to work. Sigh.
TACOS OF THE WEEK: Los Pastorcitos de Sirloin
This is apparently a local chain. In general I love things done pastor style on the trompo. They get a nice crisp almost caramelizy edge. Here they had both a traditional pastor and sirloin on the trompo. My waiter was kinda rude and kept trying to get me to buy more. However, the waiter who had the tables behind me, was lovely and stopped to pet Leo. Apparently he has 3 small dogs and 7 cats.
They do a kinda exciting version of a campechano here with pastor & sirloin, rather than sausauge and a cheaper cut of beef. But I think it came with 3 tacos (or it was wildly over priced) and that seemed like too much. So instead I got a pastor and a sirloin. The meat extended well past the blue corn tortilla. They were good, but not epic. Very nice salsa plate that include some chips. These were enchilada, so like in a chile powder, which is not my fav, but I think it was nicely executed. Probably wouldn’t bother returning, but highly edible.
Year One Project 
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