This week has been particularly trying with the niños, and it's only a 3-day week (we had Monday off school for some mystery national holiday). Yesterday, one of my precious toddlers was lovingly petting my face when he suddenly whipped out his claws and left me with a few little scabs on my cheek. I was holding another baby in my arms when he got really stimulated due to a piñata-bashing moment and he nearly stopped my heart rhythm with the force of his tiny fists.
Today the school hosted a first aid certification class in my classroom, so I had to move everything upstairs to the library, where there are comfy couches, tons of bright pillows and shelves of books. It's hell. Two of my 4-year-olds found a rogue (also rouge) crayon and colored on both the carpet and themselves before I noticed half an hour later. I had to sit with them after class as they scrubbed soap into the carpet and probably just made it worse. Later, my troubled 6-year-old (he has foster parent issues) decided to jump on me repeatedly, at times wrapping around my neck as he squealed with delight. He was removed from class within two minutes.
Speaking of piñata-bashing, a very lucky 3-year-old brought a nearly 4-foot Dora the Explorer piñata to class today for her birthday, in addition to a large Dora cake that I did not get a piece of (the school averages one bday cake per week, so I wasn't too upset). We rounded up the toddlers into the courtyard as the groundskeeper suspended the piñata Suddam Hussein-style (too soon?) above the grass. Only one child was able to make a dent, and he's the one who I think has the most potential to make the Police Beat one day in the near future.
Three stories up ahead: Lesbian March, "Sneakerhead" culture and the opening of some fancy restaurant at a university.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Celebrity sighting
Today I attempted to interview Pharrell Williams, the American hip-hop artist from N.E.R.D. and fashion extraordinaire. I'm writing a feature on Mexico City's 'sneakerhead' culture, or those who collect limited edition and highly stylized sneakers, often waiting hours in line to spend wads of cash on a single pair. However, the media with video cameras were given preference to ask meaningless questions such as, "Are Mexican fans the best in the world?" I was left sans interview, standing around like a desperate fan trying to get a piece of the action. Thus, I leave you with nothing of journalistic merit, just a nice little clip to rub in your face that I saw a celebrity.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Backstreet's back...
Last night's Backstreet Boys concert was so amazing I won't even try to hide it. Not that the 3-foot poster tacked to my bedroom wall would allow it. Laura, her co-worker and I went out for pizza and chelas beforehand, rehashing all our wonderful BSB memories and discussing whether or not the venue would be so empty we could sneak from our balcony seats to the front row. To our surprise, Mexico City is filled with thousands of girls just like us! The place was absolutely packed, and everyone was singing along with the same hyena-like singing you might expect. The only downside was that I'm not familiar with any of their work post-2005, so I was unable to join Laura in singing along to the tracks off their latest masterpiece, Unbreakable. Fortunately, living in a country with a raging informal economy provided us the opportunity to buy cheap merchandise after the show (hence the 3-foot poster and a topless pic of Nick Carter brushing his teeth, all for 30 pesos!) If you think I'm a huge loser after all is said and done, maybe you can at least respect the fact that I'm not afraid to be who I really am inside? Maybe in that sense I'm a non-conformist? No? You're right. 98 DEGREES IS BETTER!
Postscript: You're no doubt asking yourself, "Wasn't there five members in the Backstreet Boys?" Sadly, Kevin left after turning 50 and deciding he no longer qualified to be in a boy band. If you look closely at the bottom of the poster above, you'll see four bodies and five pairs of shoes. At first I thought that was ingenious Mexican photoshopping, but Laura assured me it's an image from the non-pirated world as well.
Postscript: You're no doubt asking yourself, "Wasn't there five members in the Backstreet Boys?" Sadly, Kevin left after turning 50 and deciding he no longer qualified to be in a boy band. If you look closely at the bottom of the poster above, you'll see four bodies and five pairs of shoes. At first I thought that was ingenious Mexican photoshopping, but Laura assured me it's an image from the non-pirated world as well.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Spring Break!!! (or something like it)
A few weeks ahead of the American spring-breakers, I headed down for the weekend to Acapulco with a group of friends. Sometimes I like to think of where five hours driving would get me in Ohio: that's right, Indiana.
We drove down early, early, early Saturday morning to Playa Bonfil, a precious little gem of a beach about 30 minutes south of Acapulco. We spent the entirety of Saturday laying on the beach, sleeping in hammocks, frolicking in the waves and listening to the horrible thumping bass of techno music.
Whereas the beach for me has usually been peaceful and quiet, this time it involved a small wood hut outfitted with huge speakers and apparently a German DJ chained to the post. Attempts to switch the vibes to cheesy 80's pop (read: Rick Astley) were largely ignored. We set up our tents on a clearing in the sand, built a little campfire and sang some of my preschool greatest hits. Weddings took place on both sides of us further down the coast, which involves fireworks to kick off the first dance. It was a majestic show, and I've decided that I too will have fireworks on my big day, literally and figuratively.
A fun little fact I discovered: some restauranteurs along the beach will secure their animal remains (fish heads, chicken feet, etc.) in large plastic bags and deposit them at the water's edge; when the tide rises, it sweeps it all to sea. Yes, I did go swimming immediately after snapping the pic below:
Sunday morning, bright and early, the techno music resumed. We packed everything into the truck around noon and headed into Acapulco. I rode in the truck bed with two other girls, and while I was sunburned as a result, it was a fun experience. The last time I'd ridden into town was with Matt to catch a coach bus to Oaxaca. From the taxi-eye view, I thought the city looked dirty, horrendously overdeveloped and way too Spring Break-esque. But from the view of the truck bed, I could see the water and coastline and look out onto the jagged coves from our ascending point of view. A very beautiful vista.
Once in Acapulco, we took a small glass-bottom boat to Isla de la Roqueta, hiked a short path and found a really amazing beach spot to snorkel. It was small and secluded, the water completely clear and the fishies fascinating.
Afterwards, we humored our vanities with a photoshoot, sufficiently creeping out the Mexican family that had later joined us at the spot. As a group of gringos (plus two Mexican friends), we did look like Spring Breakers, so why not indulge in our weird gringo antics? Post-snorkeling, we ate a late lunch at a seafood restaurant along the water. I don't really remember how the food tasted, I just remember that the one-man entertainment band was amazing. By amazing I mean tone-deaf and playing one of those keyboards with pre-recorded songs. With shrimp swimming in our bellies, we set off back home to our lovely, polluted city.
We drove down early, early, early Saturday morning to Playa Bonfil, a precious little gem of a beach about 30 minutes south of Acapulco. We spent the entirety of Saturday laying on the beach, sleeping in hammocks, frolicking in the waves and listening to the horrible thumping bass of techno music.
Whereas the beach for me has usually been peaceful and quiet, this time it involved a small wood hut outfitted with huge speakers and apparently a German DJ chained to the post. Attempts to switch the vibes to cheesy 80's pop (read: Rick Astley) were largely ignored. We set up our tents on a clearing in the sand, built a little campfire and sang some of my preschool greatest hits. Weddings took place on both sides of us further down the coast, which involves fireworks to kick off the first dance. It was a majestic show, and I've decided that I too will have fireworks on my big day, literally and figuratively.A fun little fact I discovered: some restauranteurs along the beach will secure their animal remains (fish heads, chicken feet, etc.) in large plastic bags and deposit them at the water's edge; when the tide rises, it sweeps it all to sea. Yes, I did go swimming immediately after snapping the pic below:
Sunday morning, bright and early, the techno music resumed. We packed everything into the truck around noon and headed into Acapulco. I rode in the truck bed with two other girls, and while I was sunburned as a result, it was a fun experience. The last time I'd ridden into town was with Matt to catch a coach bus to Oaxaca. From the taxi-eye view, I thought the city looked dirty, horrendously overdeveloped and way too Spring Break-esque. But from the view of the truck bed, I could see the water and coastline and look out onto the jagged coves from our ascending point of view. A very beautiful vista.
Once in Acapulco, we took a small glass-bottom boat to Isla de la Roqueta, hiked a short path and found a really amazing beach spot to snorkel. It was small and secluded, the water completely clear and the fishies fascinating.
Afterwards, we humored our vanities with a photoshoot, sufficiently creeping out the Mexican family that had later joined us at the spot. As a group of gringos (plus two Mexican friends), we did look like Spring Breakers, so why not indulge in our weird gringo antics? Post-snorkeling, we ate a late lunch at a seafood restaurant along the water. I don't really remember how the food tasted, I just remember that the one-man entertainment band was amazing. By amazing I mean tone-deaf and playing one of those keyboards with pre-recorded songs. With shrimp swimming in our bellies, we set off back home to our lovely, polluted city.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
A really good interview
Tender moment alert:
Today I had the wonderful opportunity to interview Gerardo Nigenda, a blind Mexican photographer whose work will be on display this month in Mexico City. During my initial research on Nigenda and his work, I read a few blog posts of journalists or artists who'd met with him and reported with such overwhelming and generous praise that I nearly rolled my eyes. But since I've met with him, I can understand why.
We sat in a small, quiet garden this afternoon within the very large home of another artist in Coyoacán, the smaller, more colonial part of D.F. We talked about the technical aspects of his work - how he takes photographs without a visual point of reference, his preferred artistic concepts, etc.
The most inspiring point of our conversation, however, had nothing to do with the plot of a Lifetime movie, a blind man defying artistic conventions and societal expectations and everyone weeping with inspiration as the credits roll down the screen. It really just came from him talking about his take on life, completely aside from his blindness, and about finding the positive in every situation. He didn't even really have to say anything, his personality just radiates warmth, and it put a little skip in my step afterward as I headed towards a 3-peso 'pesero,' a smaller, more ghetto version of your childhood schoolbus. He said he makes up for his lack of vision by igniting his other senses; he orients himself by sound, smell and touch, and he's inspired to take pictures when he feels deeply moved by the way these elements reach him.
Maybe I'm biased because we share a love of bossa nova music and the ocean, and my inability to speak Spanish during interviews is more or less a social handicap. But inappropriate comments aside, it was a great interview. I'll post the story Monday!
Today I had the wonderful opportunity to interview Gerardo Nigenda, a blind Mexican photographer whose work will be on display this month in Mexico City. During my initial research on Nigenda and his work, I read a few blog posts of journalists or artists who'd met with him and reported with such overwhelming and generous praise that I nearly rolled my eyes. But since I've met with him, I can understand why.
We sat in a small, quiet garden this afternoon within the very large home of another artist in Coyoacán, the smaller, more colonial part of D.F. We talked about the technical aspects of his work - how he takes photographs without a visual point of reference, his preferred artistic concepts, etc.
The most inspiring point of our conversation, however, had nothing to do with the plot of a Lifetime movie, a blind man defying artistic conventions and societal expectations and everyone weeping with inspiration as the credits roll down the screen. It really just came from him talking about his take on life, completely aside from his blindness, and about finding the positive in every situation. He didn't even really have to say anything, his personality just radiates warmth, and it put a little skip in my step afterward as I headed towards a 3-peso 'pesero,' a smaller, more ghetto version of your childhood schoolbus. He said he makes up for his lack of vision by igniting his other senses; he orients himself by sound, smell and touch, and he's inspired to take pictures when he feels deeply moved by the way these elements reach him.Maybe I'm biased because we share a love of bossa nova music and the ocean, and my inability to speak Spanish during interviews is more or less a social handicap. But inappropriate comments aside, it was a great interview. I'll post the story Monday!
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
LA Times saw my story
The LA Times keeps a blog about Mexico and Latin America. A post they had up today referenced a few quotes from my News story on urban cultures! Nice to know somebody is reading my stuff :)
http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/laplaza/2009/03/emos-in-mexico.html
http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/laplaza/2009/03/emos-in-mexico.html
Merry March!
Hope you all enjoyed my latest story below. Tomorrow I'll be covering the opening of an exposition by a blind photographer. I've seen a few of his pictures, and it's surprisingly more than the back of his lens cap. Stay tuned!
Writing the story on the so-called "urban tribes" this weekend was both fun and stressful. It was fun to intermingle with the subjects of my story, the goths, punks, emos, etc. I was painfully reminded every second that I am very, very mainstream, but not quite cool enough to be hipster. I did put on eyeliner and wear a second set of earrings and skinny jeans, as if it might help my cause. And I did share a tender moment with the 18-year-old goth mentioned in my story, who nervously approached me 20 minutes after the interview and asked me to hang out afterwards. It took me back to high school, so much to the point where I almost forgot I didn't have to say 'yes' just to keep things from being awkward in the hallways. However, despite my efforts, I think I solidified my sociocultural status when I bought tickets to the Backstreet Boys concert for next Thursday. I'm going with Laura and her co-worker, and I think it might involve a nice tequila drink beforehand to erase whatever is left of our dignity. Sidenote: I've always loved 98 Degrees more.
Putting the story together was a bit stressful because I didn't start out with a clear direction. The article was supposed to be focused on the results of a discussion by anthropologists on these "urban tribes." However, everything they said was pretty boring and academic, so much so that I left before they started passing out the complimentary glasses of wine. My patience was also tested because I had been walking around for a combined 3 hours, the result of an ATM machine eating my debit card and me having little cash (thereby only able to afford a couple 2 peso, or 15-cent, metro rides and one 20 peso cab ride post-conference). Walking around in floppy flats didn't help much either. After visiting the Glorieta de Insurgentes and the El Chopo street market, I was able to gather enough inspiration to create my own focus for the story. But, I still had to put the finishing touches on at 9 a.m. Sunday morning, very painful since I'd gone to bed at 4 after a very successful party at the apartment.
Speaking of which, we had a very successful party. Unfortunately, Drewbie was out of town, so Paul and I were the lone hosts. According to Facebook, there was an "80's Crunk" theme, but only six of us picked up on it, apparently. I eventually changed out of my black spandex bike shorts to blend in a little bit better, though I did retain my J.Lo-esque gold hoop earrings and blossoming fro. We had a great turnout, so great that when I answered the door, strangers said they were friends of 'so-and-so' at the party, who was also a stranger. Paul and I bought a mop and carpet cleaner the next day.
Things at the school are slowly but surely improving. I actually filled out a space in my lesson planner last night, though I guess I have 16 more weeks to fill out. One of the toddler teachers today told me that I was quiet and nice with the kids, which in a way is good because it counters the other teachers' more strict, stern approaches, but is also negative because the kids know they can get away with anything. I thought it would be an inappropriate time to tell my co-worker that I often fantasize about striking them with heavy metal chains across the face. Just kidding! Maybe just a plush teddy bear across the face. I also got paid for the first two weeks...tax free! [insert undocumented immigrant joke here].
Another toddler teacher gave me this necklace yesterday as a gift. Precious!
Writing the story on the so-called "urban tribes" this weekend was both fun and stressful. It was fun to intermingle with the subjects of my story, the goths, punks, emos, etc. I was painfully reminded every second that I am very, very mainstream, but not quite cool enough to be hipster. I did put on eyeliner and wear a second set of earrings and skinny jeans, as if it might help my cause. And I did share a tender moment with the 18-year-old goth mentioned in my story, who nervously approached me 20 minutes after the interview and asked me to hang out afterwards. It took me back to high school, so much to the point where I almost forgot I didn't have to say 'yes' just to keep things from being awkward in the hallways. However, despite my efforts, I think I solidified my sociocultural status when I bought tickets to the Backstreet Boys concert for next Thursday. I'm going with Laura and her co-worker, and I think it might involve a nice tequila drink beforehand to erase whatever is left of our dignity. Sidenote: I've always loved 98 Degrees more.
Putting the story together was a bit stressful because I didn't start out with a clear direction. The article was supposed to be focused on the results of a discussion by anthropologists on these "urban tribes." However, everything they said was pretty boring and academic, so much so that I left before they started passing out the complimentary glasses of wine. My patience was also tested because I had been walking around for a combined 3 hours, the result of an ATM machine eating my debit card and me having little cash (thereby only able to afford a couple 2 peso, or 15-cent, metro rides and one 20 peso cab ride post-conference). Walking around in floppy flats didn't help much either. After visiting the Glorieta de Insurgentes and the El Chopo street market, I was able to gather enough inspiration to create my own focus for the story. But, I still had to put the finishing touches on at 9 a.m. Sunday morning, very painful since I'd gone to bed at 4 after a very successful party at the apartment.
Speaking of which, we had a very successful party. Unfortunately, Drewbie was out of town, so Paul and I were the lone hosts. According to Facebook, there was an "80's Crunk" theme, but only six of us picked up on it, apparently. I eventually changed out of my black spandex bike shorts to blend in a little bit better, though I did retain my J.Lo-esque gold hoop earrings and blossoming fro. We had a great turnout, so great that when I answered the door, strangers said they were friends of 'so-and-so' at the party, who was also a stranger. Paul and I bought a mop and carpet cleaner the next day.
Things at the school are slowly but surely improving. I actually filled out a space in my lesson planner last night, though I guess I have 16 more weeks to fill out. One of the toddler teachers today told me that I was quiet and nice with the kids, which in a way is good because it counters the other teachers' more strict, stern approaches, but is also negative because the kids know they can get away with anything. I thought it would be an inappropriate time to tell my co-worker that I often fantasize about striking them with heavy metal chains across the face. Just kidding! Maybe just a plush teddy bear across the face. I also got paid for the first two weeks...tax free! [insert undocumented immigrant joke here].
Another toddler teacher gave me this necklace yesterday as a gift. Precious!
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