Did I just agree to teach your son English? And, other communications (or mis) from Dia Dos

Mantequilla. Mantequilla. Mantequilla. That is me repeating myself in writing in hopes of learning the word for butter. I thought I was communicating effectively but came home with sour cream. One of many of today's communication errors.

Much of today was spent gathering the necessary supplies for "Casa Contenta." It was exciting, stimulating, and exhausting all rolled into one. We spent much of today at the traditional market. Stand after stand of fresh fruta y vegetales, pan(bread) y meat. We avoided the meat stands as there appeared to be no refrigeration in sight. Slabs of meat sat in the humidity and warm weather for hours. The germaphobe in me just couldn't bring myself to purchase any. When eating at home I think we will be consuming muchos frijoles. We did come home with fruit, vegetables, fresh salsa verde, and fresh bread and tortillas. I think we have almost figured out Pesos.

We were approached by several people today and for reasons that frankly, surprised me. At the market, a woman and her son purchased fruit beside me. They followed me to the cremeria, which, incidentally is where I finally found butter, uh, mantequilla.
At the cremeria she began talking to me. I could tell she was asking questions but I really hadn't a clue as to what she wanted. The woman working at the cremaria noticed and was humored by our conversation. She beckoned a young man to come to my assistance. His English was a step above my Spanish and he attempted to translate. I still have no idea what was communicated. I sort of think she told me she was coming to our house and I was going to teach her son English. I thought I told her over and over again that I was not an English teacher but rather a student of Spanish. She was persistent. I think she will show up at our door.

The other two people that approached us today made me sad and left me with many more questions than answers. The first woman had a four year old daughter. She was very nice and helped us find some flip-flops. A few minutes later, a group of 14-15 year old boys was interviewing us as part of their English studies. The woman and her daughter approached mi esposa and asked to speak with us privately after the interview was over. We sat on a park bench with her for quite a while and listened to her story. Her daughter was born in the United States and is a U.S. citizen. Her husband is working in the United States illegally and she can't get permission to go across the border. She told us about his six day walking journey to get into the United States. A very dangerous trek without food or water. She was on the verge of tears and seemed very desperate as she told us about her daughter's longing to be with her father. A very sad story of separation that I am afraid is repeated thousands of times here. She invited us to her home to meet her parents and gave us her phone number. She wasn't asking for money. I think she thinks that because we are American we can somehow help her get into the United States. I think that she knows that we can't but somehow talking to us made her feel connected to her husband. I don't know. We will send an e-mail to a friend of ours who is an immigration attorney simply to get information and to educate ourselves. I don't think it will help. We will call our new friend and share a meal with her family while our little girls play together. That is all we can do.

The next person that approached me was a gentleman named "Jimmy." He had been caught illegally in the United States. He voluntarily (with the help of an attorney) came back to Mexico. He was given a paper from the US Dept. of State. He spoke English very well but could not read it. He asked Chad and I to explain the legal document that he was given by our country and told to give to Mexican immigration. He is trying to get through paper work and get back to his wife, son, and house back in the United States. Once again, he asked for nothing more than for us to explain this paper to him. We also tried explaining to him that we basically need a translator ourselves to wade through American legalese. We parted. "Mucho gusto. Que la vaya bien!" He crossed the street and as we were walking away he quickly ran back to us and asked "Is there anything you need during your stay? Anything I can do for you?" All of these experiences will bring a new level of profoundness to the headlines back home we so often see about the immigration debate.

We made our way to the school today just to check things out. It will be a lovely place to be. One teacher made friends immediately with the girls. She is teaching English here but is from Indiana. The school will be a nice community to be a part of. She also has a friend who lives nearby and commutes to the same office mi esposa needs to go to. She is going to see if she can arrange a carpool. Es bueno!

I even ventured out by myself to pick up the last of our supplies that we forgot. Geez! Try to communicate "lighter" or "matches" when you don't speak the language. I'm quite sure that the natives think that I'm some chain smoking fiend. I just want to be able to light my stove and a few candles (another problem word to communicate). It was made even more complicated by the fact that I needed one of those long, trigger lighters so as not to get burned when lighting the gas stove. God only knows what they thought I wanted. Really long cigarettes? I finally found an encendedor y velas (lighter and candles). I found them at Waldos - a good old dollar store. A woman heard me talking (pointing and saying nonsense syllables rather). She looked Mexican to me so when she approached me I fumbled with Spanish. Well, turns out she is from New Mexico and came to study Spanish. When she saw me in the store (remember how I said we stick out?) she immediately knew who I was. Turns out the school told her about me this morning. We will be classmates beginning next week. There might be a third woman joining us but that's it. The girls will basically get private lessons as no other children are currently enrolled.

Our pot of beans is done for our evening meal. My oldest is riding her bike around the courtyard. The youngest is naked, running around alternating between fit throwing and singing songs about her body parts (yes, it is as bad as it sounds). No nap. It is also a problem preventing her from drinking the tap water. She just doesn't get that sucking the water out of her hair is the same as drinking it from the tap.

My allergies have subsided. What a relief. We have food and COFFEE for breakfast (found a great coffee shop today too). An even bigger relief. I'm am ecstatic to be here. I feel excited to be learning. I learned more today than I think I did in three years of college. And, as for the ear plugs. A MUST HAVE to sleep. This is the loudest place I have ever been. A teacher at the school said "It is a loud country." At least I don't have to worry about my three year old's bi-polar expressions disturbing the natives. She is just one small picollo in the crazy symphony that never stops.