Saturday, March 29, 2008

An Ode to Topes or Suck the Speedbump

Son of a Bitch! When did they put that, there?

I digress a bit, here. As some of you know, there are a couple of options when one wants to drive from Cancun to Merida. The first option is the toll road, called the cuota, which is a very well maintained highway that only has one exit (Valladolid/Tizimin). It is the fastest route. The other option, the libre, is a free road that skirts the cuota but passes through every village and town, along the way. A comparison might be made to taking an air conditioned, first class bus with video monitors to riding in an old school bus with the windows down and a goat as your traveling companion. Sometimes, I prefer the latter.

The libre takes you through some very nice villages, where you can see real Yucatecan/Quintanarooense life. It is also a great route to take if you are interested in finding plants and flowers for your garden. One problem, however, is that every village (and, sometimes, just some Yucateco’s house) has a collection of topes. For those not familiar with Spanish, topes are speedbumps. I tried to count how many sets of the suspension killers there were on the way from Cancun to Merida, once. I lost count after 147, and we were nowhere near the end.

Some topes come factory direct, when the road is built. Others are put in by the village government and some are homemade, put out by a drunken uncle on a dare from his four-year-old nephew. They come in many different shapes and are made of many different materials. The “official” topes are normally made of concrete (in the form of a mini-crosswalk) or metal (think a softball, made of steel and sliced in half. Now think of a lot of these, lined up in a row across the road). Sometimes, a few of the half spheres are missing and, if you line it up right, you can speed right through them. I only recommend this if your spatial judgement is good.

Village approved speedbumps are usually concrete, but the shape is more of a box, rather than a bump. The homemade version can be made of anything. In a lot of cases, it is a very thick rope, thrown haphazardly into the road. These usually take on the appearance of a large snake (think Anaconda Meets Snakes on a Plane). I have also seen old blankets, tied together and concrete filled PVC pipe.

Topes are everywhere, in Mexico. If you drive, you get used to them. They are a pain in the ass but serve a few purposes. 1) They slow people down in areas where there may be children, 2) they keep car mechanics in business and 3) they permit for a brisk economy based on hubcaps. The following are some of the more common expressions (at least, in my car) associated with the tope.

“What the hell was that?”

“Oh shit! ……..” followed by a thumpa thumpa.

“Motherf$#&r, did they put metal topes on top of that concrete one?”

“Why don’t they paint those things!”

“SNAKE!!!!!”

Posted by PlayadelSoul at 13:19:22 | Permalink | Comments (2)

Friday, March 28, 2008

Aaron and Off to Merida

As we had talked of having children, sooner rather than later, we were very happy to hear the news. I was also happy to see that years of alcohol and drug use had not diminished my count. At 41 years old, I felt like my window of opportunity to be a father would soon be closing.

He arrived one beautiful, early morning, and we named him Aaron Alejandro (the initials are just a coincidence). We wanted a name that would be recognizable in English and Spanish and, of course, had to have some Biblical tie.

Here he is, today


I guess we covered both, pretty well. Soon after, I was offered a promotion, and we were off to Merida, where I would become the Academic Coordinator for our branch near Plaza Fiesta.

I was going first, going to find a place to live and then send for Grace and Aaron. I loaded up the Vocho (VW Beetle) and away I went. Around 15 kilometers outside of Merida, the car quit. I cursed, got out, kicked the car and was immediately (and I mean, immediately) approcahed by a man who had stopped his car to see what was happening. He took me into Merida, found me a VW mechanic, and gave both of us a ride back to my car. If this was the way people were going to be, I was really looking forward to Merida. The mechanic fixed my car, in minutes, I paid him about $25 and gave him a ride back to his shop.

I started my job, and a couple weeks later, we were hit by Hurricane Isidore. It was to be the first of three hurricanes we have stood in the eye of, as a famiy. A preview of the next installment.


(borrowed image)

Posted by PlayadelSoul at 16:27:34 | Permalink | Comments (3)

Thursday, March 27, 2008

Her name was Graciela, and she was the one.  I just knew it from the way she smiled and said “Hola, Mark.”  One day, she entered the school while I was out front smoking (always a way to impress good Catholic girls, by the way).  She had a new hair style and I commented on how nice it looked.  She told me that I was the only person to say so, and gave me an extra smile.  I immediately went into 5th grader mode, and hunted down her teacher to ask her to do some investigative work.  You know, the “Markie likes you.  Do you like him?” type approach.  Mind you, I was 38, at the time. 

After class, I received the news.  She was single and she didn’t not like me.  The next day, I asked her out for coffee.  We haven’t separated, since.  After a few dates, we both agreed we would take it slow on the more intimate  part of a relationship (read, no sex for you!).  I was OK with that, but asked her to marry me a week later.   Well, actually, it was about 4 months later, but it seemed like a week. 

Funny thing about Catholics.  They want you to convert in order to get married in one of their churches.  Well, I wasn’t going to let that get in the way.  I did catechism classes in Spanglish, every Saturday, for months.  Started going to Mass.  Did my first communion with four eight-year-olds, all of us holding a candle.  Finally, I was a Catholic.  As an added bonus, I found that I liked the way it added to the spiritual side of my life.

We were married in Cancun, at the registrars office, on the 4th of July.  Me>”Woohoooo!, gonna be some fireworks tonight.”  Her> “uh, Mark, you are not married until the Padre says you are.”   Me> Doh!  Three days later, we were married.   We held our reception at the Pok-ta-Pok golf course, in the Hotel Zone in Cancun, but it was a blur.  I was ready for honeymoon.  Spent the night in the Omni and left for our trip on the next day.  We had two weeks planned in Zacatecas, San Miguel de Allende and Guanajuato.  It was wonderful, and that area of Mexico remains my favorite to this day. 

Sometime and somewhere during that trip, little Markies swam into little Gracielas and our lives were about to change.  I was blessed to have found Graciela and we were going to be blessed with a son.
 

Posted by PlayadelSoul at 19:07:25 | Permalink | Comments (2)

Background Check (Continued)

I arrived to Cancun with two suitcases, packed with clothes, my mini stereo, a bunch of CDs and a wide vocabulary of Spanish (señor, señorita, gracias and si/no).  Luckily, I pushed the button and got the green light.  Had they found that vocabulary, they may have put me on a plane back home.  I had already arranged a temporary place to live, and took my first combi to get there.  I had a week before I was to start training for my new job.

Once the training started, I found that I had finally found my calling.  My family tree is full of teachers, but I have never considered doing it, myself.  For one thing, I never finished college and didn’t think I was qualified to teach anyone, anything, other than how to lie, hide alcohol in the house and avoid DUI arrests.  After a week, I made my first appearance in front of real students.  They seemed to like me, and I felt like I could let my personality out.  My first lesson was on the use of “wish”.  I started the class by stating that we would be learning how to express desires, which got a chuckle, and the use of the word “wish”.  Well, some of my students started laughing out loud.  I was a little taken aback, but continued with my lesson.  At the end of the class, I asked a couple of the ones who had laughed what was so funny.  They responded that “wish” in Mayan, was the word for piss.  Oops! 

After about three weeks of training, I was given my first full time schedule.  I was working 10 hours a day, and loving it.  I even developed an aura of “handsomeness” which had eluded me for years.  I was approached by more than a few ladies in their early 20’s who expressed a desire to see more of me.  I fought hard against the temptation, for about an hour and fifteen minutes, but succumbed and started dating again.   For a year and a half, I went through quite a few relationships, lasting anywhere from one night to 3 months.  It was fun, but started to get old when the conversations turned to anything of substance.  The December/February relationships are vastly overrated, IMHO.  I needed something more Mayish.  I had someone in mind, but she was seeing someone else, last I checked.  That was soon to change. 

Posted by PlayadelSoul at 15:57:21 | Permalink | Comments (3)

Background Check

How did I end up here? Good question, that I often ask myself. It is a pretty complicated story about a pretty simple man.

I grew up a Navy brat. Lived all over the place, but always near the beach. Born in California, grew up in Oregon, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Virginia, California, England, and North Carolina. (Probably left out a few). Graduated high school in Virginia Beach, VA, and then went away to college. That is where my drunkologue began. Pretty much spent the next 20 years drunk, hung over, or waiting to drink. One day, ten and a half years ago, I sobered up. That is when my life began.

I was going through a divorce (amicable) and decided to go on vacation. Went to Cancun. Sober in Cancun, you ask? WTF? Well, it can be done. Traveled a lot during the day and read in my condo, at night. Met lots of nice people at the local AA meeting and saw a lot of things most tourists don’t. Made a decision before I went home that I would come back and look for a job. On this vacation, I also discovered that I didn’t really like what I was doing at home. It was OK when it kept me in booze, but it had lost its charm.

So, I returned. Gave myself a week to find a job. On the last day, I walked in to an English language school and, thirty minutes later, I was an English teacher. I’ll tell you about that in my next entry.

Suffice it to say that I found my place. Married, with two beautiful sons, I have not a thing to complain about. I am blessed, thus the title of my blog. Peace to all.

Posted by PlayadelSoul at 01:20:20 | Permalink | Comments (2)