Sopa Azteca and a side of Jesus

I woke up on Saturday morning cold free and inspired to take on the day. As my friend Wilborn would say, I was "sober and ready." By the time I woke up, my family had left for their farm--a family business including motocross tracks--and I desperately needed a shower as despite the liveration that travel provides one always begins to smell. Always. I was delighted to find out that there was no hot water that morning, but bit the bullet anyway for the sake of those around me, and dove right in. I figured, "Hey, at least I'm awake." The interesting thing about cold showers too, is that the cold water slows your movements, ultimately making the shower longer. Anyway, poor me, right?

I threw on some clothes and ventured out into the mid-daylight towards the U of GTO. I popped some snapshots of the main building only to be earily reminded of my walk from hell, as seen below:


One-eighth of the walk from hell, and the Universidad de Guanajuato steps

Needless to say, despite the beauty of the University I was turned off from the steps. Plus, I still hadn´t had any coffee yet...

By the tiem that I got done wandering, it was time for me to catch the group tour to El Cerro de Cubilete. I decided to take the tour because it was actually cheaper than any other method of transportation, plus I figured it would be a good opportunity to practice my listening skills (in Spanish). Of course, in the typical fashion of Mexico and countless other countries and regions of countries around the world, it took about an hour and a half to round up everybody that was going on the tour. We did eventually leave, and there ended up being three other English speakers on the two, one of which was a native speaker. I´ve found that whenever there is someone else who speaks english on a tour like this (not that I´ve been on a lot), they seek you out in order to make wise ass comments to you-and in many cases with you-about what´s going on, what´s different, etc. My theory was reaffirmed when we stopped halfway at some pottery barn (a real pottery barn) and Hal--a dude from Colorado--came over to joke about all the ceramic statues of Jesus, as well as the demonstration of how ceramics are different from clay based pottery. However, despite the "Damn did we really have to stop here"-ness of the situation, I left kind of inspired to pursue pottery, and to create this list of things I want to learn how to do while I'm on this trip. In no particular order:

• learn how to make clay pottery
  
• learn how to cook in every country I visit
• learn how to dance in multiple ways
• learn how to ride horses
• learn how to surf
  
• learn how to sea kayak
  
• and of course, learn how to speak spanish

Eventually, we made it to el Cerro. I was shocked to find thousands of people had made what I came to learn was a weekly religious pilgrimage to the center of Mexico and this gargantuan image of Christ. Despite the cold and wind that comes with being at Mexico's highest point, tents were set up all over and families huddled together for warmth. I have to say, although I am not religious, seeing this gigantic statue of Jesus--with arms spread--hovering over the country of Mexico, combined with all of these camping Mexicanos who had faith, hope, and trust bleeding from their ears, made me feel really small. Not in a bad way either. Finally, everyone from the tour group got cold, forcing the tour director to instruct us to hop in the van and head out. As we descended from the center of Mexico, the sun faded away into the distance, and the Ranchero music became a little louder, and I reflected upon what that was all really about...

On Sunday morning I woke up bewildered and confused as a result of the time change. Nevertheless, I was ready to hike La Bufa, until I started gasping for air and figured out that the remnants of my cold had moved deep into my lungs. I headed downtown intent on snagging some coffee and seeing some museums, with hopes that my lungs would get better in time for an afternoon hike. Instead, I ran into some students from Academia Falcon and was "talked into" helping my new friend Stephanie (another Seattle-ite around my mom's age) find a silver goods store. Then, like it was a bad habit, I felt the need to barter for something, ultimately resulting in the purchase of something for my girlfriend. I suppose it's my competitive side... not that it has ever been that strong or anything...

Anyway, after helping her find the silver store, it was easy to convince Stephanie to head to the Museo de Alhondiga with me. The Alhondiga de Granaditas is the site of a major battle for Mexican Independence, and should definitely be read about here. It's an incredibly fascinating story and was quite an amazing museum, full of artifacts from Guanajuato that detailed the history of the Independence movement in the state as well as a lot of modern art. It truly was a wonderful blend of history and today that you just don´t find in a lot of museums. Anyway, after scoping the museum, I decided--with the help of the gift shop--that 1)I am incredibly fascinated by artwork/paper mache of skulls and skeletons, and 2)I am going to buy a book in Spanish and read it even if it kills me. Oh, and if you get the chance, Google an artist by the name of Fernando Guevera... I think that´s how it's spelled...

Stephanie and I went to grab a beer and eat some sopa azteca--tortilla soup on steroids for those of you in the states... We chatted about Seattle and talked about our respective family lives. It was pretty sweet, but it made me wonder why I always get along so well with "adults." I think its becuase many of my favorite adults all have characteristics that I aspire to have... Oh, and have you ever noticed that the best conversations always happen over liquids (soup included)? I then departed and flew solo to the Museo de Casa Diego Rivera, saw that my mom wasn´t the only mom who kept all of her aspiring artist's childhood drawings, then subsequently rushed back for dinner. Sad to say, the family was at their farm, and I had to walk back down the steps (It's about ten thousand times worse than a walk of shame for those of you Greeks who may be reading this... haha jk... no really though...).

Then, on the next day, Monday, I would hike La Bufa...

You know how there are times in life when you reach some kind of unseen and unheard pinnacle--sometimes literally, figuratively, or both?

After hiking up La Bufa for an hour, I made it to the top, where I sat all alone for the next thirty minutes. My ponderings of faith evoked by Cubilete, my realizations of what I´ve got pulled forth by a conversation I had in the morning with Patricia (the mom of the family), and sitting on top of a mountain alone with a large white cross and the city of Guanajuato silenced by another 1,000 feet beneat me led to a pretty emotional time. I thought a lot about my dad, my family, how I got here (all 22 years), and all the people in this world who will never have an opportunity like I have right now. Picture a video mantage of your life going by as you listen to music from a John Cusack movie. Think about it. I seriously just sat there in the sun, alone, wondering why in the hell it was I who happened to be so fortunate. And what kind of responsibilities that gave me, or didn´t give me for that matter... I wondered what was in store for the future--immediate and far...

I´m taking spanish lessons at Academia Falcon and will be heading to Patzcuaro for Dia de los Muertos. Much love and Happy Halloween... Be safe too Grandma Cooper. I can imagine how rowdy all of the folks at your place can get... haha.