"Welcome to D-Qwon's dance grooves, are you ready to get your groove on?"

It's 2pm on Tuesday afternoon. The sun is shining with brutish strength, the parrots are chirping away (I like to pretend they're enjoying their captivity), and I have just eaten my breakfast. Overslept a bit.

It's been about a week since I last posted so this seems like a good time for a bit of an update on la vida colimense. I suppose I ought to do it in in some sort of chronological order so as not confuse myself.


So, as you know, hurricane Jova hit the Pacific coast last week, reaching us as a tropical thunderstorm which caused flooding and extensive damage to some bridges and more vulnerable buildings across the state. When the sun eventually came out, I decided to head into the town centre, accompanied by Liz's mother Lety, to do a bit of exploring. I had been told that our house was about 6 blocks away from the centre, so as we walked over shabby pavements and past dilapidated houses, I fully expected the town centre to be a bit crap. I can't tell you how surprised I was when we turned a corner and I was greeted by a beautiful bustling plaza filled with cafés and water fountains. Unfortunately, though, our amble was cut short by a phone call to Lety, telling her that her neice had been involved in a car accident and had been taken to hospital. Keen to get there as quickly as possible, Lety hailed a taxi, and within 10 minutes I found myself outside the hospital being introduced to the extended Toscano family. Not the best time to be saying "Mucho gusto", really.


Over the next few hours, we heard that two people had died in the accident, but apparently everyone survived and the rumours were wrong. Happily, Dalia (the family member) didn't suffer much more than
bruising, which is pretty incredible considering the nature of the crash:

Of course, everyone insisted that God must have been protecting them, and that's why no one died. I didn't feel it was the right time to point out the number of crashes that do result in deaths, and that maybe, just maybe, there was a perfectly reasonable scientific explanation for how the people in the bottom car got out alive. Then again, maybe God's just picky.


The weekend finally gave me the opportunity to get out of the house and meet people, as we went to a ska concert on Saturday night and an amazing restaurant on Sunday, where you only pay for drinks and pretty much get fed a full banquet. I did die a little inside when the waiter told me they could do me a vodka and tonic, but they didn't have gin. As if a vodka and tonic is an acceptable replacement for gin. Bloody hell. I stuck to cheladas, which is just lager but with lime juice in the bottom of the glass and salt around the rim. I thought it would be vile, but was actually really nice. There are also micheladas, which I think contain chilli. I'll be giving them a miss.


I met some of Liz' friends at this restaurant, which was nice, but Liz is a bit older than me, so I don't have that much in common with a lot of her friends. As a result, I have been very quiet a lot of the time when we've gone out, but I did meet a few people my own age and once I got a few beers in me things perked up! People who know me might think it impossible that I could be shy and withdrawn, but when it's a case of meeting new people in a foreign language, it is a bit tough! Also, all of Liz' friends really loved the girl who was here last year, so I'm aware that I'm constantly being compared to her, which puts quite a lot of pressure on me ... I've only met one person who doesn't know Liz at all, and he's been really nice and very patient with my Spanish! I'm sure his kindness is loaded with ulterior motives, though, so I need to manage his expectations! Luckily, I'm finally able to start work this week, so I'll be coming into contact with plenty of other young people.


Sunday evening was spent on a roof terrace drinking beers. Towards the end of the night, Liz' salsa instructor swung me around like a ragdoll for a bit, and I agreed to attend his class. So, that's what we did yesterday evening! We learned a bit of Cha Cha, which is supposed to be a flirty and sexy dance. Now, I am what you might call a "hot nerd", rather than a "sexual godess", so I didn't have the highest hopes for myself before we got started. Things went from bad to worse when I started sweating and panting after the warm up and, by the end of the lesson, my clothes were drenched with sweat and my hip felt like it was about to pop out because I'd been trying desperately to be a sexy temptress by wiggling around the dancefloor like Shakira.


I'm going back next week. Because I love torturing myself.


And that's about all I have to tell you. Today I will finally be giving my first few classes, so I am both petrified and excited! I'll let you know how it goes...

"Don't threaten me with love, baby. Let's just go walking in the rain."

It is raining.


Hard.


The turtle is not impressed.

I had planned to write a post this evening, after returning home from my first proper day at work, but I have just been informed that afternoon classes have been suspended because of hurricane Jova, which is making its way towards the coast as we speak. Since I was due to work from 4pm-7pm today, this means that I have the entire day off. Which would be cause for celebration, except that the rain makes it impossible for me to do anything! I'm waiting for Liz to get home from work so that we can go and rent some films to watch this afternoon.


My first few days in Colima have been great. I haven't been caught up in a whirlwind of activity, but that's been nice because it's given me an opportunity to settle in properly. Even in the space of a few days my confidence has grown and I'm very lucky that the family I'm living with is very patient; they all go out of their way to help me communicate myself, which I appreciate immensely. On Saturday, we took Nico (a schnauzer with a disturbing resemblance to my grandpa) to the vet for a haircut and shampoo. He looks pretty hilarious now:

I'd forgotten how great it is to have an interactive pet. We recently put our springer spaniel down because, in his old age, he'd lost his "spring", and my cat Sooty spends most of his time spread-eagled in a patch of sun or curled up under my bed. Nico, on the other hand, is like a little human. I've had a good dance around my bedroom with him, and he always dashes to the front window to greet those who come and wave off those who go. In fact, as I write this he is using me as a climbing frame to try and get access to my laptop. Maybe he's trying to communicate with the human race. SPEAK, NICO. SPEAK.


Nothing.


In other pet-related news, I was extremely jealous to hear from my younger sister that my family has acquired a new kitten in my absence. I gave my parents strict instructions not to do so until I got back from Mexico, but this was a kitten in need, as she was being bullied by her siblings, so I've forgiven them. I'm not convinced it'll fare much better in our household - Sooty has, unsurprisingly, reacted very badly to the presence of a youngling in the house. Hopefully he'll dig deep and find some trace of a paternal instinct before inflicting too much emotional damage on the poor thing. Anyway, I met her on Skype last night and she's an absolute beauty. Welcome to the family, Minnie!


On to a more important topic: food. I am a big foodie, so one of the most exciting things about coming to Mexico was the prospect of trying loads of new things. Everyone raves about Mexican food - which, by the way, is nothing like the Tex Mex stuff we eat in Britain - so I was starting to feel disheartened after a few bad dining experiences in Mexico City. However, coming here and eating home-cooked food has been fantastic! Lety keeps telling me the names of everything I'm eating, but I don't remember any of them. All I know is, it's great. Contrary to popular belief, the Mexicans don't tend to cook really spicy food. Instead, they make wickedly spicy salsas (green is by far my favourite), so you can add as much or as little spice as you like when the dish is put in front of you. The best thing is, the food maintains its deep flavours despite the heat. While most of the food I've eaten here has tasted amazing, I can't imagine that it's very healthy. The Toscanos use their oven as a storage space for plastic bags, rather than a means of cooking. Everything is fried on the hob in an impressive amount of oil. To be honest, I'm enjoying the food too much to care right now, but my parents may not be so happy about it when they have to pay for two seats on the plane to get me home for Christmas.

My only complaints are, of course, hurricane related. The rain does make things pretty boring. The constant sound of running water also makes me need to wee a lot and, worst of all, the mosquitos are out in their gajillions. At four o'clock in the morning, when all you want is to be fast asleep and dreaming, it is very easy to seriously entertain the idea of taking a machete to your feet just to make the itching stop. The weird thing is, they only like my feet! I have had one bite on my thumb (weird), but other than that, it's all about the feet. Last night, I even tested my theory by slathering my feet in vast amounts of 50% DEET repellent, leaving the rest of my body free of any products and wearing only a t-shirt (saucy minx). I am sitting here now without a single bite north of my ankles. My feet tell a different story. There are about 10 new bites on them. It is mind boggling.


The hurricane also means that I'm unable to let you know how my first day of teaching went, so that post will have to wait another day. When I do eventually get into the classroom, I am planning to do a conversation class on "National Stereotypes", which should hopefully be a funny ice-breaker as we watch clips of Family Guy's Nigel Pinchley and Austin Powers. I will be working for 20 hours a week, leading a conversation club across three campuses. I have to choose one topic per week and then adjust the content for different language level targets. It makes it pretty easy as I really only have to plan one lesson per week, but it might get a bit boring by the time I've used the same content for the fifth or sixth time! I imagine the members of each class will have different things to bring to the table, though, so I'm sure it won't be a problem.


I don't think there's anything else very important to tell you, so I'm off to ring el novio.

"Hell, everything's legal in Mexico. It's the American way!"

This is actually attempt number two at writing this post, as I managed to delete draft one as I was reaching the finishing line yesterday. As such, my writing may be less enthused than it was before, so I hope that you'll forgive me. Here's what I've been up to this week:


At 6am on Tuesday morning, my boyfriend tried to wake me up gently by whispering my name and turning on the bedroom light. He was greeted by the words, "Why are you being such a c**t?", followed by a string of complaints and demands for a cup of tea. Eventually, I did manage to drag myself out of bed for long enough to have a shower, get dressed, and finish packing before being bundled into the car by my impatient mother, where I curled up and went back to sleep.


We arrived at the airport and met up with the other 12 Southampton students who are spending their years abroad in Mexico. Most of them had already said goodbye to their parents and loved ones - the part I was dreading most - so mine took me for a cup of tea before biting the bullet. I said a slightly teary goodbye, instructing my boyfriend to work hard to get bonuses and buy me a good Christmas present, and made my way through security.

There's not much to say about the journey itself, other than, "It was long". Really. Bloody. Long.

In Mexico City, we were greeted by two reps from the Anglo-Mexican institute, a not-for-profit language academy which has taken three of our members under its wing for their years abroad. As we weren't really in the mood for doing anything, having been travelling for about 15 hours, we went straight to the hotel, where we paid a whopping £15 each for nice en suite rooms.


After spending the night trying to conquer jetlag, we went over to the Anglo institute for a little seminar about life in Mexico. We were given all sorts of handy tips, like: "Don't get run over by a bus, because they will run back over you to make sure that you're dead to avoid having to pay your medical expenses if you survive." Ideal. After a spot of lunch, we went to the Anthropological Museum, where we spent more time cooing over turtles and laughing at some teenage girls who went mad for a few of our male members than actually taking in any culture. Having said that, we did learn about an indigenous tribe who dedicated their art and architecture to fallic imagery, which was very educational.

Afterwards, we went to a bar, where I splurged £2 on two bottles of Sol. We also went to a restaurant, and I ordered a mole (mole-ay), which is a typical Mexican dish. Not knowing what to expect, I was a little surprised when a dish that closely resembled chocolate covered pancakes with cream and nuts on top arrived in front of me. In fact, I have a picture:

As it happens, this was one of the most disgusting things I have ever had the misfortune of eating. It tasted a lot like bitter chocolate mixed with cigarette ash and the souls of angry old women. With some chicken. Lesson learned!


On day three we took a tour bus around the city, sampling some top notch health & safety standards on an open top bus. I suffered many a near miss with tree branches along the way. We got tea on the top floor of a high rise opposite the Museum of Fine Arts, with a great view of what is a beautiful, if heavy polluted, city. After this, we went over to the city's cathedral which, as far as I'm concerned, serves as little more than a garish reminder of the realities of the Spanish conquest: the enslavement of indigenous people, and the attempted abolition of their culture. Happily, the fact that it is built on top of a lake means that the cathedral is sinking. So there.

On Friday, we went our separate ways, with some students staying in D.F and others going to cities around the country. I took a tiny plane to Colima during a thunderstorm, which was a bit of a hairy ride! But when I arrived I was greeted by the Toscanos - my new family. They are wonderful people: they buy real milk. Oh, and they have Tetley tea bags and Marmite. I love them for that. The weekend has largely been spent settling in and finding my bearings. I am disappointed in myself because my Spanish is completely awful at the moment. I can understand almost everything that people are saying (unless I start daydreaming and lose track of the conversation), but I can barely respond at all. It is very frustrating, but I can only hope that my confidence will grow and that being fully immersed in the language will help my oral skills, too. I am paying about £170 a month here, which is pretty much full board with an en suite room, so it's pretty great! Mexico is significantly cheaper than the UK, and I continue to be surprised every time I pay for anything and compare it with the cost of similar (and in many cases, the same) products in Britain. Going back to England will be a bit of a kick in the teeth for my bank account!


I'm sorry that this has been such a long post; congratulations if you are still with me! Not much more to say other than thanks for reading.