Pollita

I bought a chicken. Not a whole delicious rotisserie chicken from a tasty rotissoria, no I bought a live little pullet, flesh, bone and squawking. It might be a rooster because it makes noise in the mornings. Still to soon to tell. It lives in our "patio" a closet sized space with a dirt floor and re-bar ceiling. It is a pet project that would make my father proud.
We have a chicken pet/livestock.
I am going to buy a couple more so the one we have does not die of loneliness. Plus, we will probably move before they get to be full-man-meal-size.

Secretly I have hopes that it infuriates the landlord for making us sleep (if you can call it sleep) on a broken, old mattress and eat dinner around a card table while sitting in plastic lawn chairs. "Furnished" now includes chicken shit, pendejo.

Mexico is awesome.
We have a chicken pet.
Is it wrong to name your food?

Second Attempt

I think the next time I try to surf I will rent a long board. Leah says it is a lot easier than the short, surly little boards that so many people make look so easy.

Leah worked on her day off and then demanded that she have two days off in a row. Everyone in the restaurant gave her hell for it, but it gave an opportunity to go to Tecla. An hour and half south of Tecoman, we got off the bus in the middle of no where and walked down the road to the beach and small indigenous town of Tecla. I found a guy that trusted me enough to rent his board to me, and Leah and I tryed for the second time to surf.

I stood on the board. I caught a wave. I got dropped on my head. I got worked more times than I can count. I am not famous.

Surfing is a majestic sport of grace, timing and is also terrifying. For someone who grew up in a landlocked state, the ocean is scary. Big walls of water crashing over me is "fun" is "cool" and a "workout". I went into fetal position and covered my head with my arms, scared that I would smash into the rocky beach after a huge wave crashed on me. It was kinda creepy to hear the waves bouncing the big rocks after been thrown underwater by a wave.

Now we are back in Colima. We moved into a different apartment because of the overbearing neighbors at the last place. We were required to notify the owners of any visitors and it was difficult to have anyone over for beer or socializing. The new place is less aesthetic but is more convenient for hospitality, and the owner's sister is not watching our every move. Double plus.

ps. the new address is

Madre Selva 268-A
Colima, Col. 28000
Mexico

The Check Cleared!

Thank you so very much, dear sweet Grandmother of mine! You have made my Spanish dreams comprehensible. I will start the very next week with classes four times a week two hours a day and private tutor to boot. Thank you brave, strong Grandmama. Your love for us all, or Leah and I, is strongly felt and deeply appreciated.

Butt Vomit

It was only a matter of time before it happened to me. I braught it on myself. I washed the radishes with tap water, but did not wait for them to dry before devouring half a bushel. Now I pay the price, squatting on porcielin thrown, contemplating the direction I should take my life.
There is a shimmering glint of hope, the flickering light at the end of this fecal washed tunnel. Poop pills from a family doctor in Orofino, the honorable Kelly McGrath. Thank you thank you thank you.

Working in méxico...

So my latest update is that I am now a waitress at a restaurant called Los Portales, working 40 hours a week busting my behind taking orders, serving coronas and keeping the place looking clean. Apparently it´s common to work at least 6 days a week, if not 7 and they do not take breaks. We get to eat one meal during the 8 hour day and only when there´s a slow moment with few customers...tough stuff! And we only make $5 (per day!) plus tips, which have varied from $3 to $14 so far. So I´m not sure how long I will last in this business...but it´s been a very interesting experience so far. It´s given me a window into Mexican life and culture that I wouldn´t have necessarily seen from afar...and the extra money helps quite a bit.
The other news is that we´re moving to another apartment close to the old one but with less restrictions...this place definitely has an extra room for visitors and we don´t have to worry about our anal landlord wanting to know who is coming in and out all the time. I think it´s going to be a good change because more friends will hopefully come over, it´s easier to find and I think we´ll be more comfortable there...so that should happen by the end of the week!
Anyway, much love to all of you and please send news from afar!
xxoo

more pics

Here´s a link to more pictures of the great adventure, for those of you who are interested:
http://picasaweb.google.com/leahbrandt/IdahoToMexico

Happy new years and love to all!

¡Feliz año nuevo!

2008!

Happy happy New Year!
I feel like this year is a year when the hopeful changes will be realized and goodness will be achieved, because we are certainly past due on for some of that. Signs that point to goodness: election year.

On an entirely different note: our landlord, and owner of our apartment, is an ass. He wanted Leah and I to come down to his office and talk to him about hosting a visitor. The owner wanted us to pay extra rent for the extra person who stayed a total of two days. Poncho, the coolest caretaker and all around rad dude, stepped up for us and calmed the situation. Later, over carne asada on New Year's Eve, Poncho said the owner does not tell renters until after they move in about the extra fee for visitors. What a dick. The owner is not in need of cash, he leaves the apartments empty most of the time and his son uses them to have parties, which Poncho has to clean up. And when we have told people about the cost of our apartment, they gasp at the price. The owner's sister lives within the same complex, so she reports anything and everything we do. It sucks to think we cannot have an open door to our friends and family. Lame.

We are looking for a new place to live.
I am going to miss Poncho.

And New Year's! Roberta and Ken have a famous party every New Year's (travel article that makes mention of their party: http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9B01E1D8153BF93BA35751C0A9629C8B63). They hire a Mariochi band that plays well into the morning, while Ken makes strong margaritas that keep the dancing feet moving. Fantastic party fallowed by a burguies breakfast of fresh papya, empanadas and passion fruit juice. Good, good and great. Leah and I were the intraduced as the bikers who rode from Idaho. The usual questions fallowed, how long did it take you, where did you sleep, how many hours a day... yeah, I am still wearing the same shirt.