Possum Chronicles

Last night I watched a movie; at around 11pm I got up from the couch and headed toward my bedroom. You will never guess who was in my hallway! Yep! One of Percy's brothers! He looked really scared and angry. He was hissing, his little pink mouth open with all of his pointy teeth showing. Fearsome. George was his name. Just then, Rascal came through the cat door. I was really shocked and perturbed by this turn of events. Where did this guy come from? What was Rascal doing and where was he getting all these baby possums?! Was there a nest on one of my balconies? I actually went out to look after I was able to coral George into the bathroom. There were no nests of possums I could see on either balcony. I also had to go down to the car because the cat carrier was still in the trunk. I wiped it out and threw some towels in it for George.
Meanwhile, Rascal was pacing the hall and he stopped and sprayed (pissed on) the door to the closet when I was looking right at him. I grabbed him and threw him out of the house, locking the cat door. I was really pissed (no pun intended) at him!
Before I could get George in the carrier, I needed to go outside for something and there was Rascal at my neighbor's door. I was happy to see he was going to bug someone else. These neighbors are like Rascal's second parents. They really love him. I took a closer look and realized he had another baby possum! Holy shit Rascal, I yelled. I could not believe my eyes. Really. The couple I could see were at the door and could hear me yelling. They opened the window and I told them to throw a towel over her (Lucky) and I would come over with the carrier. Well, when I went to get the carrier, he got a towel. But when he went to throw it on her, she did a flying leap off their balcony and landed down below in their carport, about 15 feet down. She seemed a little shocked and just sat there looking from side to side. We both ran over, me with the cage, he with the towel and successfully grabbed her.
All the while, Rascal was hovering over a hole in the ground on the side of their apartment building. I walked around to check it out. Sure enough there was a big hole under the sidewalk. And there staring out was a big momma possum face. I can't say she looked sad, but I was feeling really sad for her. I wasn't able to see if she had other babies in there with her, but here we had already taken three from her. Guilt. But I didn't feel that it was safe to reunify the babies with her because Rascal would easily be able to get them again.
In any case, we locked Rascal in the house to try and prevent him from more hunting, at least for the night. I went into the bathroom to find George clinging onto the bottom of the shower door jam. He was holding on for dear life and hissing at me of course. I was able to get him into the cage by carefully prying his tiny little paws off his perch. This time I was able to give them some cat food and a big thing of water. George played dead under a towel, the entire time I was arranging the little dishes. Lucky on the other hand, was telling me just how pissed off she was about the whole thing and where I could stuff it!
I finally got to bed at around 1am. Having Rascal locked up in the house is not conducive to sleeping. First of all he wears a bell (supposedly to warn critters he is coming!), and second of all locking him in is like locking up a wild animal. He paces, scratches at the cat door, chases his poor sister Pearl, and is generally obnoxious. All of his antics keep me awake and have Pearl hyper-vigilant, worrying that he is going to pounce on her at any moment. I finally broke and let him out at 5am. I couldn't handle it any more. Pearl's relief was apparent and she was finally able to come to bed with me.
When I went in to check on George and Lucky, they were snuggled up together in a ball sleeping. Although I didn't want to disturb them, I had to remove the cat food and water from their cage. I took the opportunity to take a couple of photos. Their water was nasty, filled with possum crap. (The Lindsey people told me that is what they do in the wild. I guess to clean themselves?) They had probably eaten some of the cat food. But mostly they were happily sleeping.
Lucky and George were taken to join their brother Percy. I can call and check on them next week. I now have two passes to the Lindsey Wildlife Museum. I am becoming a wildlife expert, thanks to Rascal. Well, maybe not an expert, but I certainly know more now about possums and pigeons than I ever cared to know.
For example here is a bit of information you wouldn't think about unless you were in my situation:
Although they are quite slow moving in general, what I realized is that possums play dead. This was quite a revelation! I kept wondering why Rascal would bring these guys in and release them and then basically forget about them. Well, this is why! He grabs them in his mouth and brings them to his mommy to show off his toy. He drops the baby which then plays dead. Well a dead anything is no fun to play with! Rascal only wants to play with a toy that is trying to get away. So, he leaves it. Eventually the possum gets brave enough to escape. I gather this is usually once kitty is far away.
I will keep you posted on how Percy, Lucky and George are doing. They will be released back into the wild once they are healthy and old enough. I am not sure if they are released back into their old neighborhood or into a place more rural than where I live. I know they often release birds back into their original community. I will learn about possum release when I call for an update.

Possum Chronicles

Critter tales.
So, apparently Rascal was at it again over the weekend. I found a little bit of poop on the floor in front of the bathroom. I cleaned them up and didn't think much of it. Maybe one of the cats had stepped in some crap and tracked it there? In any case, it was clean. A day or two later (Tuesday) there was another little spot. Now I was certain there was a critter lurking around. I have no idea where it was hanging out, but apparently, it thought a good place to take a shit was in front of the bathroom. He had the right idea, I guess. So, as I was getting ready for work on Tuesday I was thinking I would probably have to do a sting operation to find it, since most critters Rascal would be interested in are nocturnal, much like himself. But that idea was unnecessary, as he came out of his own volition. There he was, little gray, furry, rat-like critter: yes! another baby possum. He was littler than the one we caught a couple of months ago, but attempting to look just as fierce. Hissing at me, snarling at Pearl. This is not an easy prey for a cat. Rascal seems not to be bothered. But Pearl is a true scared-y cat. She was definitely interested in him, but very cautiously.
I couldn't believe my eyes! This time I had a better plan on how to catch it and what to do with him once he was safely in a carrier. I am getting good at this wildlife rescue thing. I threw a kitchen towel over him and threw him into the cat carrier. He was a fierce little guy, but thankfully didn't bite me.
I have decided that I am going to name all of the animals I have to rescue from Rascal. Having just read Harry Potter, I decided his name was going to be Percy. I took him to work with me so I could take him directly to a rescue place from there. He was the talk of the office. Everyone came in to get a look. He was really very cute.
He climbed around the cage and at one point was hanging onto the front with all four paws/claws, and alternately sticking his nose out of the bars and trying to chew them. According to a website, possum have a keen sense of smell and their eyesight is pretty poor. This would explain the constant sniffing around he was doing.
He wasn't at all interested in the raisin bran flakes I gave him to eat. I found a few internet sites that suggested fruit. He devoured the piece of pear I offered. He took to drinking the water right away. Eventually he took a long nap curled up under the kitchen towel.
At the end of the day I took Percy out to the Lindsey Wildlife Museum in Walnut Creek. They told me I could call to follow up on Percy in four days.

In the depths of making apple butter and pear-ginger butter. It is quite tedious. You have to cook the hell out of it. And because it has so much sugar in it, it really wants to burn to the bottom of the pot. So you have to be really careful to stir it often preventing the burn. The upside is that my condo smells wonderful. The pungent smell of apples, pears, cinnamon, ginger and burning sugar! Yummy.

Here I am getting tattooed. As you can see below, I am grimacing. And digging my nails into my arm. This shit HURTS. Don't let anyone tell you it doesn't. But as I have said before, it is completely worth it.

A weekend at home. Time to write.

Work has been really busy over the last month. Never a dull moment.

There is another pregnant woman at work. I had a dream the other night that I was pregnant and in the hospital. I was waiting and waiting. There were no labor pains. I was getting impatient. Interesting.

To celebrate Kelley’s birthday in the beginning of July I went with Kelley and two other friends of hers to Arnold, a small town on Highway 4 in the Sierra’s. It was a great, very relaxing weekend. We ate, drank, talked (and talked and talked and talked), slept, ate and drank some more. It was hot as Hades up there. I loved it. For some reason the heat doesn’t bother me.

Last weekend I was in Tahoe, Soda Springs. It wasn’t as hot as I expected. And the water in Ice Lakes (Serene Lakes) felt very cold. It wasn’t hot enough out to warrant getting into freezing cold water. The company was great. Again we did lots of eating, drinking, talking, and fucking around. On Friday my friend John and I took our mountain bikes out for a spin. I hadn’t been on mine in years. As we made our way out the dusty access road, I kept thinking, “I am going to have to climb back out of here.” But it was well worth it! And getting out took about half as long as I expected. The next day, Saturday, when the others arrived, we drove down the same road and did a little hike along a ridge. We had planned to find a private lake to take a dip, but couldn’t find one that wasn’t on private property. Next time. I have more information now. I have been told that most of the land out there labeled “private property” is actually public land. In any case, after our easy hike we drove back out and over to Ice Lakes, which really are icy right now. I got some sun and walked back to the house. On Saturday night we actually had dinner before it was dark out! That never happens up there. We had a feast of grilled (some charred) veggies and chicken, tortillas, corn on the cob, refried beans, cabbage salad, and red wine. It was all delicious. For dessert I baked “no pudge fudge” brownies – Trader Joes special! So yummy.

Thursday I finally had my 10 year old, very faded tattoos re-colored. I have a beautiful new pink lotus and a blue and green butterfly. Getting a tattoo feels something like a red-hot butter knife digging into your flesh. The closer it is to the spine, the more it seems to hurt. The black outlines are particularly painful. Fatty deposits don’t seem to temper the pain what so ever. So, don’t ever let anyone tell you it doesn’t hurt. But it is all worth it! I am now going through the icky dry, scabby faze of healing. I have been putting cream on it three or four times a day. I think it helps a little. I am happy to be though the painful periods.

Adventures with Burt the baby pigeon.

Rascal caught him. I imagine it wasn’t much of a fight, because the poor thing could barely walk let alone fly. He probably fell out of the tree at a very opportune moment for Rascal. Of course, wanting to share his prize with his Mommy, he brought Burt (who didn’t have a name at that point) into the house, and dropped him in the dining room.

Pearl was all worked up into a fluff-ball state. Her tail looked like a squirrel's. She was in the most animalistic state I have ever seen. She hissed at me, threatening me when I got too close to her bird. How it became her bird, when Rascal was the one who brought it in, I will never know.

When you grab a cat by the scruff of its neck it really does become paralyzed, even with an adult cat. When I got them both safely behind doors, I was able to check out Burt a little more extensively. I could see that he was a baby or fledgling. He was all gray with long, skinny, little yellow feathers sticking out all over. His beak was not fully developed. He had a hurt wing, which was a little bloody, from where Rascal had bit into him. After pacing the floor for a minute, I thought I should try putting him outside to see if he could fly. I grabbed a dish-cloth, which was the suggestion of one of the CWWs I work with the last time Rascal brought in a critter, the possum. I gently threw the towel over him. He was relatively easy to pick up; he didn’t even try to bite me. He had a really cute squeak, not a coo. I took him out to the front porch to see what he would do. But he just stood there, looking very confused (can a bird really have expressions?) As I went toward him he scooted back. He was about to fall off the balcony. So, quick thinking, I got him outside in the back balcony, which isn’t accessible except by the back sliding door. Or by other birds, as I was soon to find out. I put him in an old wooden wine box, standing up on end, sitting in the corner. I was hoping that he would heal and then fly away on his own.

After about a day I went and bought birdseed for him and gave him a bowl of water. This is stupid, but I don’t think I would have thought of water; that was Paul’s suggestion. At some point, after becoming attached, I decided the pigeon needed a name. I named him Burt. Come to find out: Burt, of Burt and Ernie, has a love of pigeons. Who knew?

The cats didn’t figure out Burt was on the balcony right away. When they did figure it out, the sliding glass door became like their own personal TV, with their own personal reality TV show. Burt really didn’t do much. Regardless, the cats sat, glued to his every move. It took him about a day to figure out that the birdseed was to eat and the water to drink. That Burt was a shitting machine! There was bird shit all over the bottom of box, getting stuck to his tail feathers. Yuck.

For the most part, Burt didn’t do much besides eat, drink, shit, and sleep. After he had been out there a few days, my friend Kelley and I were sitting in front of Rascal and Pearl’s TV. Burt got up, walked slowly across the edge of the balcony, and sat down on the corner. He sat there for 15 minutes, watching the world go by, got back up and walked back to his “nest.”

After he had been on the balcony about 5 days, I began to worry. I didn’t see him walking around and he seemed to always have his wings out in different awkward positions. Almost like he didn’t quite know what to do with them. Big birds started coming and stealing his food. He hid behind and under the plant shelf. He seemed terrified and very unhappy.

After calling a number of veterinarians and wildlife rescue organizations, I finally found one in Oakland who agreed to take him. I carefully placed him in a box with a towel for padding. He stopped squeaking only after I put him down. I drove up in to the Oakland hills to a house on the side of a steep valley. The front drive was littered with cages of all sizes and shapes. A young woman came to the door with a baby squirrel on her shoulder. As we stood in the dining room, he tried to jump over to my shoulder, but she stopped him. I think she may have had him wrapped in her robe the entire time I was there, preventing him from leaping around. I looked out to the back balcony because I heard a commotion and there were three fawns! They were super cute, white speckled, baby deer about the size of medium dogs. It appeared they wanted to come in and play. She told me if she let them in they would jump all over us. I wasn’t daunted. Apparently the Oakland Police Department brought them to her a few days before, having found them abandoned. She also had two hummingbirds in a cage. One had just learned to fly. She offered to give me a tour the next time I am there. I figure that I will definitely be seeing her again, given the hunting nature of my cat Rascal.

I called back a few days later to see how Burt had made out. He is fine! Burt was taken to Ohlone Wildlife Rescue in Newark and is now flying with a flock of rescued pigeons.

I am so relieved to know he is okay and now learning how to fly with his own kind!

Rascal and Pearl are the cats who reside in my home with me. To call them “my” cats would be stretching the truth. The reality is, I am their human. I am here, at their beck and call. I feed them, give them water, and provide a lap when needed. Pearl and Rascal balance each other well. You would never guess they are sister and brother. They don’t look anything like each other and their personalities are about as different as you can imagine.

Pearl is a sweet, little gray tabby girl with beautiful green and amber eyes. She mostly hangs around the house, eating and sleeping. Occasionally you will find her outside taking in a spot of sun or saying hello to the neighbors. Pearl is initially shy, but once she knows you she is very demanding of attention. If you are sitting down you are a sure lap, made just for her. Sometimes she follows me from room to room, hopping up on waist high objects (bed, couch, chair) so she can get a pet while you are walking by, all the while chattering away. She is a bit of a whiner. The sweetest thing is when she is on your lap, purring, and gazing up at you adoringly. Of course she has an ulterior motive: to have you scratch her little chin. But I also honestly think she is checking in with you, keeping the love going.

Rascal, on the other hand, is your archetypal, adolescent, tomcat. He is a muscular, sleek, black boy cat. He has about 5 white hairs in the middle of his chest. His eyes are pure gold. Rascal generally exhibits an air of disinterest, unless there is food involved or he wants something from you (food). Rascal is mostly an outdoor kitty. Well, let’s just say he doesn’t spend most of his time in the house. I am not exactly sure where he goes when he is not here. I do know that ALL of the neighbors know him and that is no exaggeration. I live next to an apartment building and all the front doors face out. I can see Rascal making the rounds to each of the 4 floors, visiting everyone. I asked a guy in the building I had never met before if he knew Rascal. He said, “Oh YES, we know Rascal very well over here!” So, it may be that Rascal is couch surfing throughout the night, every night. He usually comes home for a scratch and some food.

About two or three months ago I had a serious scare. It was at the same time as the wet cat food scare. Rascal was looking really run down and tired. I came home from work and there was a note on my door from a neighbor who is particularly fond of Rascal. She stated that he seemed listless and not his usual peppy self. A few days before I noticed that he was home, begging in the kitchen. I even made a comment that someone must be feeding him wet food because he wasn’t happy with the crunchies I was feeding him. At that point I had never fed R&P anything but dry food. The night I received the note getting up the stairs was slow and laborious for him. He came in and drank down two entire bowls of water. He wouldn’t eat the crunchies, but eventually I cracked open a can of tuna and he managed to choke down some of that. I was going to take him to the vet the next afternoon due to issues at work. I talked to my mother who talked me into taking him to pet emergency right away. I am so glad I did.

Taking a pet to the emergency room is probably as traumatic as going to a human emergency room, if not more so. At the Kaiser ER, most of the really dramatic, potentially traumatic stuff either comes in the side door or is behind a closed door. At the pet ER you see every animal, hear every story, and see exactly what is wrong. I saw at least two dogs who were either dead or quickly approaching death. It was really sad. A very drunk couple brought in a huge Airedale who must have weighed a ton. The man was too incoherent to help his partner carry the dog, and she was obviously having a hard time managing his weight. One little poodle-like dog came in covered in blood and the family said he had lost a fight with a pit bull.

Rascal was diagnosed with kidney failure. The outcomes for kidney failure in cats are not great. Often the failure is too far along to be reversed and you have to eventually put them down. Sometimes it can be reversed enough to maintain them with medications and a special diet. In rare occasions, if you treat it aggressively and quickly, the kidney can go back to basically normal functioning. Of course I had to prepare myself for the worst-case scenario: spending a shit load of money trying to save my cat and then having to put him down anyway. Well, Rascal was really lucky. He must have at least 9 lives. After about 4 days in the hospital, he came out with a clean bill of health.

Rascal is back to his old antics. He is at home a bit more than he was before, because I now feed them wet food. Twice a day, like clockwork he is home to lap up the disgusting stuff and beg for more. Sometimes I cave. He did lose quite a bit of weight (2-3 lbs) when he was sick, so he could use a little more meat on his bones.

About a month after his return from the hospital, we had a fun little adventure. I woke up in the middle of the night. I was hearing a “thunk, thunk, thunk.” It was a muted sound coming from one of my closets. I got up and opened my bedroom closet to let out the cat (probably Pearl) I was sure I must have locked in there. No cat. I went to the hall closet and opened it. No cat. I must be hearing things. Back to bed, sleep. Rudely awakened, again. Damn cats. Lights on. There’s Pearl on my bed with me. Oh, and there’s Rascal under the bed snoring away. (Yes, actually both cats snore!) Bedroom closet, open both sides: nothing unusual. Hall closet, open one side: nothing. Open the other side: there I see what looks like a pink, thick tail. Oh shit, there’s a rat in my closet! No, I didn’t scream. I stood back a little. What I thought was a rat, turned around and started hissing at me. It was a baby possum! It had a little white body with a black neck and a pink snout with distinctive little pointy teeth. Really it was quite cute. Pearl is quite interested by this time. I have to push her back into my bedroom. Rascal is still sleeping. I shut the closet door. The last thing I want, besides a possum in my closet, is a possum running around my condo! As I was trying to shake off sleep and figure out what to do with baby possum, I started putting things together in my mind. The day before I had found the pillow I had in the closet had a bit of poop in its pillowcase. I thought it was odd, but figured one of the cats had left a mark before I put the pillow in the closet and I just hadn’t noticed. Very unlikely, but anything is possible. So, how long had this guy been in the closet? Long enough to poop and pee all over the shoulders of most of the coats in the closet.

I could hear my neighbor downstairs watching TV so I called her and asked her what she thought I should do. She suggested calling the Piedmont Police. They have nothing better to apparently. I called them, and even though I don’t live in Piedmont (which they were keen to point out to me as if I didn’t already know), they came with a snare and grabbed the little guy. I was amazed at how flat he was able to get trying to get away from the snare. So, there he was, attached to the bottom of a long pole. I asked where they would take him and the older cop said, “I’m just going to take him out to the street.” The younger cop said flippantly, “In the morning he’ll just be road-kill.” What an ass-hole. In retrospect, I wish I had thrown a towel over him and taken him to a wildlife rescue organization. He would have been better off getting checked out and living in a place away from cars, people, and especially cats! In any case, I haven’t seen any baby possum road-kill. Nor have their been any possum visitors to the condo.

Hola Amigos,
This is my last afternoon at the internet cafe, the last few hours before we take off for the airport. The last part of our journey in Mexico will require big muscles to carry all of the things I have bought, a taxi to the bus station, a bus to a bus station closer to the airport, and another taxi to the airport. We get home at around 11:45pm and are hoping that Mike will be there to pick us up. Otherwise we are taking a shuttle home.
Yesterday I made the journey to San Miguel. The fact is, the shopping in Guanajuato sucks. And there were specific things I wanted to get from SMA. Also, K was going in search of tequila and mescal, which I wasn´t too keen on doing myself.
I left in a taxi for the bus station at around 10am. I arrived in SMA at around 12:45pm. I was starving, so I enjoyed a torta at Tortitlan...my favorite torta place ever. You can pretty much tell them exactly what you want on it and they make it. I love how they melt the cheese right on the skillet/grill surface. They burn one side and it is really yummy. Then I asked for grilled onions, chicken, and no mayo. The mayo is way scary. For some reason in Mexico most people leave the mayo out all day in the blazing heat. No worries about bad things growing in it. No thanks! That is touristas/Montezuma´s Revenge waiting to happen. After the torta I went to a few shops collecting the things I had missed the first time. I ended at the mercado, buying bolsas from the local grocers. They have the name of the grocer and bright pictures of fruits and vegetables. I was weighed down with things, but Christmas shopping is complete... before July! How´s that?
Always take the first class bus in Mexico if you can. If you want to see the people and all the places they get on and off between locations, and you don´t mind tacking on an extra half hour or more, take the 2nd class bus. It can be very interesting when you are in the mood. I timed my return for the first class bus. It was the first 1st class bus since I arrived here. I was back in Guanajuato by 5pm.
K and I met back in the room. She had done lots of shopping too and also found out about a cool mescal bar up on the hill outside of town in Santa Valenciana. We went out looking for tamales for dinner. We had tried some the night before and they were excellent (aside from the American cheese in the one I had!). Apparently there is an evening for everything, but not all evenings have the same thing. We could only find elote (corn on the cob - they slather with the scary mayo and pour cheese and chile all over it) but that wasn´t calling. We ended up back at the Mercado Hidalgo. This time we ate at a Fonda, just outside the market. There are stands one next to another, and the owners are cat calling for your business. We went with the place that had guacamole. Of course. If I am going to get touristas, this was the place. I had a plate with beans, salad, and a 1/4 of a chicken. I also got a bottle of auga tamarindo which they must have bought from another stand, because she told me they didn´t have any. If you want it they can get it because someone around has it. It was all very tasty, but I wonder how clean it was. K was more safe with an order of quesadillas. Although she did order one with barbocoa, goat´s meat. It looked okay, but she said it was too gamey and didn´t end up eating it.
Then we went in search of a bus to Valenciana. We were directed here and there. K saw a bus with a sign for "Valenciana." It´s a good thing it dídn´t stop for us, even when we were running after it because it was going the wrong direction. We ended up in a taxi for 30p. It was up up up to the top of the ridge of mountains surrounding Guanajuato. Very beautiful little town. Very isolated. He agreed to return for us in a couple of hours. (It was 80p to get back down.)
It was well worth the trip up there. We met two really nice guys, Alon, the bartender, and Scott the chemist from Toronto working in the mine here. K was really excited because we were able to have a tasting of all the mescals they have. Basically they buy a big barrel of mescal from a guy on a ranch out in the middle of the state. Then they bottle it with different things like cinnamon, ginger, citron, raisins and jamica (rose hips flowers). We also got shots of the mescal reposado (8 years in a barrel). It was excellent. Our new friend Scott had been in the bar most of the day. Apparently, there is no food anywhere in the town, except in the little market. So, he had a liquid lunch and was working on dinner. We invited him to come to town with us.
Back in El Centro, we went to a taqueria that was recommended to us by Riley and Aaron, a few days ago. They enjoyed the food and music by Oscar Chavez...oldish Mexican folk. We got the entire place to ourselves. The chicken sopes had a red sauce that was amazing. After food, we went back to the casa to drop off the bottle of mescal we bought (we will share) and we had a little bottle of mescal K had bought that she didn´t want to bring back to the states, as there are quotas of how much you can briing back with you. Or at least that was the excuse.
Back out in the street, we found Bar Ocho that was recommended by the woman who owns it who K met at the liquor store earlier in the day. Actually, we first stumbled into another place that had big couches, almost as big as beds! Scott and I fell onto one and had a very hard time getting up. It was so inviting! But the problem was the lighting. It was bright as day in there. No mood lighting. I would like to think that it was because they were closing and not that they have no sense of what good mood lighting looks like.
Bar Ocho. Very cool. The coolest place we have been to yet. Lots of cool shit on the walls and bohemian people both inside and out on the patio. It was 4 stories of places to sit and a pool table on the top floor. I met a group of Chinese restauranteurs who came in and sat next to us. I learned some Mandarin. Like "ganbei" means cheers in Mandarin. It was all a little sureal. We stumbled out of there and to another taco place at around 1am. Those baby tacos tasted so good! Satisfaction. We got Scott in a cab going back to his apartment in Valenciana. I am pretty sure he made it okay.
I was feeling pretty cruda (hungover) this morning. I think K was suffering a bit too. It has mostly worn off by now. Lots of water and some good food helps.
We had an expensive breakfast this morning...$190p ... the ONLY thing I have put on my credit card my entire vacation. Not bad. I had eggs with a sincronizada under it. I am not surprised if you don´t know what that is. It is two flour tortillas with ham and cheese melted in the middle. The entire thing had a red sauce over it. During breakfast we had to suffer through two musicos muy mal. You know the drill: they come and play, standing right next to you (which is almost unbearable with a hangover), and then they want a tip, even though you didn´t want to hear them in the first place. It´s a bit of a dilemma because they have nothing I am sure, but on the other hand, I really just wanted to pay them to go away.
After some last photos, searching for items at the pharmacy, and some little chochkeys, we are ready to go. The bags are packed. K is actually waiting for me. We are going to try to have one last meal: chiles enogada. Finally we found a place that has it.
Hasta luego amigos.
Besos,
Elisabeth

Well, it is SUPER hot here. I like it mostly, but it can sap your energy really quick if you aren´t careful. The internet cafe is a good place to be in the middle of the day when you can´t find any shade outside anywhere.
Yesterday I walked up to El Pipila monument. It takes about 20 minutes with frequent breaks to catch your breath. I don´t remember if I mentioned that this town is at more than 6000 feet. It was in the morning, so it was still relatively cool out. I took some great photos of Pipila. The view from up there is incredible, so I got a bunch of photos of the town and the surrounding mountains as well.
In the afternoon, K and I met up for lunch. We walked down to the Mercado Hidalgo, making a number of stops in interesting looking shops. Our priority was finding some good tacos. After walking around the market a little, we settled on a stand that had carnitas, tacos and tortas (Mexican sandwiches). It wasn´t an easy decision because there were so many to choose from. We each had two large tacos and I had a coke. It was $5. It seems like prices have gone up a bit, but that was still a decent deal. And I saw another patron pay for the exact meal and it was the same price. Often I think we get prices and salsas for gringas.
After satisfying our need for food, we wandered around the market. It is quite small and doesn´t hold a candle to the one in SMA. I was very disappointed. It actually made me want to go back to SMA to buy some things I was sure I could find here, but haven´t. Anyway, it is a large building, about the size of a Safeway at home, with lots of stalls. Upstairs there is a balcony, one stall thich, that has tourist chochkeys. Most of it was complete junk. I did get a few interesting things.
On the way back to the center of town we stopped in a number of little plazas. They are all over the place here. It is a good thing, because the traffic on the main streets is thick with petrol fumes, enough to get you really high. And there were lots of people on very narrow sidewalks. So, going via the little side streets is much more agreeable.
We stopped in the Jardin for a cool drink, which was actually warm. Not as refreshing as expected. That was a short rest before a serious nap.
After a nice shower and getting some decent clothes on we looked around for some street grub. Unlike SMA there are lots of places to get tacos, tortas, chile rellenos, pozole, sopes, and huaraches (a bigger version of a sope in the shape of a shoe sole). K wasn´t too keen on any of the options available, so we went to a plaza we had passed through. After looking at all the menus, settled on La Oreja de Van Gough. While we were searching out a restaurant, we stumbled upon a really great jazz band playing. Unfortunately we weren´t able to hear them from our table, because they were in the next plaza over.
Dinner was acceptable, but nothing amazing. We left there and decided to get a bottle of tequila for the next part of our evening. At the Jardin is also a church and Teatro Juarez right next to each other. In front of the church there is a band that plays every night. The group is all dressed in matching costumes like they used to wear in the 1600s. They do a little show and then take off through the town, singing and playing as they go. It was silly fun. They actually go part of the way to our room, so we stopped in and dropped off the bottle. We met back up with the group, following the music it was easy to find them. During this parade, you are required to pay $80 pesos. For that you can be a part of the parade and they give you a ceramic thing (that looks a lot like a bong) from which you drink orange juice. When I first saw it I thought it was pulque, but I was mistaken, much to our dismay.... We have both been wanting to try it and haven´t had an opportunity yet. Apparently it has a very low alcohol content and you have to drink a lot of it to get any buzz from it. Anyway, when they realized we didn´t have a cup, they made us leave.
Later in the evening K and I parted and I went back to the casa. There I met up with the guy I had met a day or two before. Then a French guy (Franc) joined us. It was a good conversation about cool places to see in the world and especially in Mexico. It was Franc´s first time in Mexico. He is loving it so far.
When I returned to the casa, K had already gone to bed. I ran into (almost literally) one of the students living in another room in our casa. We started talking and moved up to the terrace so we wouldn´t bother K and la Señora Lidia. Then the other student joined us. I was really putting my Spanish to good use. At times I understood well, and other times I had no idea what they were talking about. Both are from the state of Guanajuato and are attending school at the University if Guanajuato. Armando is also a folklorico dancer and a bull rider. That is quite a combination! When I asked what he liked better he said bull riding, without a doubt. Abraham is into mountain biking, climbing, rapelling, and other outdoor sports. It sounded like their parents were all well educated, teachers and something for the government.
This morning we got up and had a breakfast of frutas and cafe with Sñra Lidia. While we were sitting there, a man came in with two huge boxes of candy. During the day she comes down to the Plaza Mexiamora (the closest plaza) and sells candy to the kids who go to school nearby. It seems as if she is the grandmother to all of them. Anyway, she bought a stack of new candy to sell. She paid with a plastic bag full of coins. It was about $200p. I wonder if she is making any money with her side job? She also told us that she isn´t in any guide books for lodging because they wanted to charge her per person she gets to stay at her place. Apparently Casa Bertha has to pay some of the guide books to get their name in them. It seems really wrong to me. We told her that when we got home we would plug her place to the Lonely Planet. We are fairly sure they don´t charge.
Just outside of town is an area called Presa de la Olla. We took the bus up there after breakfast. Many of the homes are grand art deco places. Their roofs are caving in, but they still run businesses in them. Social services. Go figure. Actually the CPS down here DIF is located in a very nice, fairly new building. We stopped in at a haunted house that was recommended by Sñra. It was silly, but still I was scared. We were supposed to see real antiques, but I don´t think there was one real antique in the entire house.
The walk back to town was getting really hot, so we jumped back on a bus and here I am!
We have two and a half more days to explore Guanajuato, more than enough time. This afternoon we are planning to check out the Museum of Diego Rivera, some building with famous murals, and the Callejon de los Besos. The story is much like Romeo and Juliet. Feuding families and two kids in love. The callejon (very small street) is so narrow they were able to reach across and kiss each other from their respective balcony´s. So romantic. I am also considering taking a day trip back to SMA to pick up those things I didn´t get when I was there. It´s a bit of a trek though, so I´m not sure yet what I want to do.
Well, I need to run to the baño. I have to drink lots of water down here. And still I feel dehydrated constantly. I will see you all very soon!
Muchos besos,
Elisabeth

Hi all,
We arrived in Guanajuato yesterday. It´s a good thing we left SMA because I think if I had stayed there a minute longer I would have killed Kathleen. Not necessarily through any fault of her own. For those of you who know both of us know that we both have very strong personalities, and we know what we want and what we don´t want. Some things are important to her that I couldn´t care less about and the other way around. Also, I have noticed that she is very cautious about certain things that I don´t worry about at all, but I worry about things that she would not think twice about doing.
For example, when we first arrived in SMA she spotted a bar across the street from our hotel. It is a cantina with the swinging doors. El Gato Negro. I told her that from what I understand, only putas go into places like that. They are for men and an occasional hooker. (of couse the irony of a white hooker in SMA is not lost on me) Anyway, she was obsessed with going into El Gato and I refused. Well, the evening before we left she found out that this particular cantina is actually okay for women. And gringas are definitely welcome and not considered to be selling themselves. This was a comforting thought for me, but I still wasn´t really interested. Anyway, because I wouldn´t go with her, I will never live it down. Oh well. I figure if we find a similar place here I will amuse her curiosity and go with her.
So, on the other hand, it is not unlike Kathleen to carry around three different bags so she can have her money with her and spread out over her body. Very smart I know. But I just can´t be bothered. A safe in the room would be nice, but at $10-20 a night, we are not finding safes in our rooms. So, I hide things around and just hope that we are staying in places where the housekeeping is honest.
In spite of these differences, our crabbiness with each other is around guess what!!? You guessed it! Being too hungry. We both lose our minds when we are hungry. It is not a good combination. The other problem is when we have different ideas of what we want to eat. I was looking in vain for tacos all over SMA. There are no good taco places that are open late. For some reason the stands didn´t look too appealing for various reasons. The stands on El Jardin were all elote (corn), helado (ice cream) and hamburguesas or salchichas (hot dogs). I have no idea why there are no taco stands on El Jardin. Anyway, one night we were starving after spending the afternoon at La Gruta, a hot spring place. That was a disappointing adventure in itself and when we got back to SMA we were rushing to be ready for drinks with friends of K´s. We ended up at El Tomate, a health food restaurant. This was not at all what I was looking for, having been dreaming about succulent tacos for the last 3 nights. So after a small meltdown on my part, I left and got a hamburger. It was really good for street food. I have yet to get tacos!
Yesterday we had a VERY Mexican experience at the bus station. K bought the tickets and for some reason neither of us thought to ask for the tickets. Well, you HAVE to have a ticket to take the bus. So, when I realized that the woman hadn´t given us our tickets, just before we were supposed to take off, I ran to the counter to have her print us out new tickets. That would have been way too easy. She claimed to have printed them and handed them to us. K and I were positive that she just gave us the change, but no tickets. She said she could not re-print them no matter how much I tried to argue...which is difficult given my level of Spanish. I was able to basically state what I needed to, getting my point across. But this is Mexico and a rule is a rule. You must have a ticket to take the bus. It didn´t matter that she had a record of us paying for the tickets and she even remembered us buying them. After much argument I paid for two more tickets. I decided that it wasn´t worth having a heart attack over $12 total! I never for one minute gave any thought to the fact that she was taking us for a ride. K suggested that she printed out our tickets and then sold them to someone else and pocketed the cash. I hate to think like that about people, but I think that is a likely explanation. There is no way she gave us those tickets. And if she hand´t sold them to someone else, what would it be to her to re-print the tickets. Anyway, maybe not. It certainly isn´t the first time I have experienced something so rediculous in Mexico that was due to some crazy rule that no one wanted to bend.
You take the bad with the good down here.
The towns we have visited have all been very well kept up. There are garbage cans everywhere and people hired to clean the streets regularly: in SMA, Queretaro, and Guanajuato too. One thing that has taken me totally by surprise is the cleanliness of most of the bathrooms in town. Even the bus stations have clean bathrooms with toilet seats and paper. It costs 3 pesos. Well worth it if you ask me!
Guanajuato is really amazing. It is a colonial town tucked into a little valley with houses built up the hillside and streets are mostly walking only. The roads for cars are mostly underground. The tunnels are very old, built for the mining that was going on here when the town was first built. This is a town of many college students, some tourists/travelers from around the world and lots from here in Mexico. It has lots of history as one of the first places the revolution was started. It was a big mining town and was very wealthy as a result. Many of the buildings are very grand and seem strange given the scale of the tiny streets. We have yet to really explore. It seems a place you could get very lost and turned around. There is no grid here. Pipila (a statue of a revolutionary, not Jesus) is the only real landmark I have been able to use to find my way around. I am looking forward to seeing the Diego Rivera Muesum (where he was born), the mummies, el mercado (of course), and some of the churches.
Our room is up on one hill off a tiny alley. There are alleys everywhere, winding up the hills. Walking only. I had to lug my suitcase up a zillion stairs to get there. But it is $10 each per night, quite a deal! There is nothing fancy, but Lidia, La Señora, is very nice and accomodating. We have our own keys and can come and go as we please. It seems like a good deal. We looked at another place too, but it was too much noise and people for K. But, we ended up meeting two nice kids who are traveling around Mexico. We had dinner with them last night and may meet up with them again. It´s always entertaining to meet people and exchange travel stories.
I have tried to send some postcards, but you probably won´t get them until after I return. I failed to get stamps the first day and then it was the weekend and then a holiday; May 1 is Labor Day here. When I finally got to the postoffice all they had were the stamps they print out separately. They are too big, or I have written too much on each card to accomodate the sticker. So, I will try again.
Well, I think I have shared enough for the moment. My wrists are beginning to ache. And I need a nap. I got very little sleep last night. Too much fun. That is what vacations are for right?! Hope you are all well!
Love, Elisabeth

Kathleen and I arrived in San Miguel de Allende yesterday morning. It took us about 2 hours to get here from the Leon airport- which is brand-spanking new. We took a taxi to the bus station, a bus to Guanajuato and another bus to SMA. I was able to sleep a lot. We were on a second class bus from G - SMA which stopped every 10 minutes to stop and pick up people going into town. It got very crowded and I wasn´t too popular when I had my suitcase in the seat next to me. I quickly moved it to the aisle after almost killing myself trying to put it in the overhead area.
We walked around a little when we got here and looked for a hotel. We weren´t finding anything good for a decent price. Both of us were also hungry. Not a good mix. The two of us hungry is like a volcano about to errupt. So, we stepped into a Mexican version of a healthy, organic restaurant. I had yogurt, granola, and fruit topped with the best honey I have ever tasted in my entire life. Once fortified and cooled off, I went to scope out some hotels. I found the perfect place, close to the center, but not so close that they can charge an arm and a leg. It is a great old home with rooms around a central courtyard. It has two double beds, a fireplace, and a very clean bathroom. The people running it seem very nice and helpful. I looked at a bunch of rooms before I went back to get K. Later we found that it has a beautiful patio on the roof. Perfect for drinking beers at sunset.
We have been walking around taking lots of photos. Eating great food. I even found a place that has excellent coffee, which is a feat, as most places here think Nescafe is coffee. I don´t usually drink coffee, but the tea here is not so good, so I will have to sacrafice!
Last night we found a beautiful restaurant that had a rooftop terrace where we had a drink while we listened to a band that was playing on another roof nearby. Very nice. At night they light up all of the churches, so they all have a halo around them when the sun goes down.
I got to have some pozole! It was so yummy. Not as good as what I used to get in Cuernavaca, but it will have to do.
Kathleen almost got her wallet pinched earlier today. Luckily she is very aware and caught it just in time. That could have been very bad, but it makes me remember to be extra careful with my backpack. You have to be conscious of your surroundings, even when it feels very safe. It actually feels extremely safe here, even at night.
Kathleen and I have been getting along fine. There have been a few moments when I had to tell her to back off, like when she started telling me what I should put in my photos. But nothing more than that. We have to make certain that we don´t get hungry at the same time because that could be a disaster.
So far I think of San Miguel de Allende as the best of Mexico... that is if you like your bathrooms spotless, toilet to have a seat on it, toilet paper available to use even in most of the public bathrooms, clean streets, mellow drivers who don´t consider you a target when you are crossing the street, yoga and pilates studios (although not as many as in Berkeley), and beautiful old architecture. It really is a beautiful town. It is a little too gringo-ized for me, but I can understand why old white people want to move here. It is a perfect mix of Mexico and Santa Barbara or Santa Fe. I like my Mexico a bit grittier, but I am certainly not complaining.
I have surprised myself with my understanding of Spanish and my ability to express myself. I really had a hard time in Spain, so I didn´t expect it to be so easy here. I have even been translating a little for K, when she really needs it. Her Spanish is getting much better as we go, but sometimes people speak really fast, making it hard to comprehend. One of my favorite expressions is ¨mas despacio por favor.¨ Well that´s about it for now. Just so you know, my cell phone is on if you have some emergency, but I have no idea how many hundreds of $ it will cost to use it. Unblock your # if you really need me to know who it is. Also, a text message I can receive. No photos please!
More soon.
Love, Elisabeth
p.s. alison, i forgot to get your parents address/phone # to say hello. i would love to do that if you can drop me an email with their information. thanks!

This is a first posting. I have been thinking about doing this for some time now. Just reflecting on things more often. Lots has gone on in my life over the last year and I have only recorded some of it. Now I would like to blog daily. Just as a daily journal would be, except online. We'll see how it goes.