The Life and Times of a 6'10" White Guy in Mexico Day 4

It's 6 a.m. and I think my water just broke. I am sitting in my bed balled up in pain and I don't even have the energy to move. After an hour sitting there on the verge of tears, I gather my strength and go to the bathroom. As you can imagine, it wasn't too pretty. The mexican cuisine had finally gotten the best of me. Thank god I had breakfast to look forward to. So at 7:30 I sit down at the table and Marie puts another lovely mexican breakfast on the table. I recognize the eggs, but there is something else on my plate that seems a little out of place. So I look up at Marie with my "what the fuck is this shit" glare and she just smiles back at me like shes doped up on smack. So I start eating this shit, I don't know what it is but as best I can describe it is corn flakes marinated in hot sauce. After about two bites I put my fork down and blankly stare at my plate. Marie noticed that I'm not eating her food, and if you have ever had a mexican mom you will understand that not eating their food is equivalent to telling an American mom to her food back and shove it up her asshole. So she starts pestering me and asking if I'm not hungry, but I just tell her that I'm sick and leave out the fact that I don't have enough strength to eat this garbage that you call breakfast in your country. As soon as I say this Marie goes off walking and rambling Spanish that I can't understand. She comes back with some weeds from her garden and starts cooking them in a pot with water. So I go upstairs and get ready for school, visit the bathroom again, and when I get down Marie gives me some crazy yellow tea in a baby bottle. Apparently, this tea is supposed to make me feel better but I don't see it curing the ass flood that has already hit me twice this morning. I grab the tea and take to the bus stop where I will attempt to make it through a 50 minute bus ride without shitting myself. Luckily, bus 631 is there when we walk up, so I jump on, pay my 3.5 pesos and sit down. It didn't look very good, but that tea was fantastic. It burnt the fuck out of my mouth, but it was some excellent tea. But while I'm sitting here, some guy with a guitar walks on the bus, sees the sucker American with my baby bottle and Spanish dictionary, and decides to stand directly next to me and start playing and singing something that sounds like the spanish version of Hakuna Matata. I'm sick and in a bad mood, so I really dont want to pay for Enrique Clapton singing the blues directly in my ear. After two songs this guy realizes that he is playing a free concert, and gets off the bus. When we get to school I run to the bathroom and make it just in time. We didn't start school until tommorrow, but today was orientation. They put us in a classroom, show some video, then interview us one at a time. I talk to everyone else, and they tell me it was really easy, and they just asked personal questions. I go in there and almost immediately this woman starts asking me to compare US and Mexican business, and describe the benefits of the North American Free Trade Agreement. I can't really remember what i said, but it probably didn't make sense. After this we tour the school and all the facilities, which were actually pretty nice. The we have a brunch, and after eating my donut, I go to the bathroom once again. I have take some immodium AD, but apparently this was something that this medicine had not seen before. After this, we piled into a van and drove to some city called talcoma or something like that. Basically, it was just another place where Mexicans sit around and sell artwork and other worthless shit. Still, you can never look at enough worthless shit so here we were. So I'm walking along, still in pain, and I actually see a painting that is not half bad. I ask the guy sitting on the bench how much it is in spanish and he tells me 200 pesos. I tell him no gracias and then magically he starts speakin freakin English. Just because he speaks English won't make me change my mind, so I start walking off so I don't lose the group. After, I tell him that I might come back, this son of a bitch calls me a "fucking liar" in English no less. I turn around but a member of my party grabs me before I do something stupid. We look at more crap for about an hour until we decide to go to the mall so we can look at slightly more expensive crap. The mall was no different than any other mall in America, it actually is nicer than most of the malls I remember going to. The food court was pretty good and I ended up getting a sandwich and some Dairy Queen since the throbbing in my guts had finally ceased. We eventually end up walking around until we go into one Italian fashion store where me and Silvio immediately sit on the couch inside while some sales clerk just stares at us the whole time like we are about to rob the place. While we are chillin' like villians, the rest of our party leaves the store and disappears. We find them and two girls try to convince us to to go to see the Stepford Wives. I have had enough of one of these girls for the rest of my life let alone the rest of the day, so I politely decline with a "Hell NO" So me and Silvio walk with our peace signs in the air, off into the Mexican sundown.

The Life and Times of a 6'1-" Guy in Mexico Day 1

July 9th 12:00 a.m.
I have to be at the airport in 5 and a half hours and everyone in my party is too drunk to drive me. Still, we continue to drink heavily.

3:oo a.m.
I can barely see, but the night is far from over, as we leave Pavlovs, we encounter a black man with a leaf blower in hand, some might describe him as a bum. At first we walk right past him, but after walking about halfway down the block I realize that this man said 15 dollars. Realizing that this deal on a high quality machinery was too good to pass up, I get my friends to throw in, and we walk back to the hype (a hype is a classification for a street vender for someone who is slightly higher on the social strata than a bum, because he is hustling something, usually stolen property). After seeing that this thing actually works, we give the hype the 15 bucks and walk off with our new toy. As we walk into Jungle Jims I am blowing everything in sight. I blow the security, I blow the 7 people inside, I blow the bartenders, I'm blowing all the cups over, I blow some girl directly in the face at close range, its like Hurricane Hugo has hit Jungle Jims. Even though I am causing massive chaos, I am still getting hooked up with free drinks because who is going to fuck with a guy with a power tool. After there was no further destruction to be done, we decide to leave to go terrorize other drinking establishments. So we walk down the street blowing everybody in sight, but as we near our destination, we run out of gas. When this happened, it seemed like the night had finally come to an end. We go to pita pit to get a snack, and I go back to get my luggage arriving just as my ride pulls up. The Fez drives me to the airport, and I stumble in and mumble to the desk clerk, Guuuadaaalajaaaaaaara.

I basically sleep the entire time of travel, except for the hour and a half I wasted by staying up to watch Jersey Girl on the plane ride to Guadalajara. When we get to Guadalajara we get to customs and I discover that while I was sleeping, I was supposed to fill out paperwork. So these people are asking me all these questions in Spanish, and I have no idea what is going on until some girl finally rescues me and gives me the forms and a pen. As we are leaving the airport, I meet my Spanish family, and we hug and do all that other crazy Mexican bullshit you do when you greet. As soon as I rest for one second, some mexican guy snatches my suitcase from me and starts walking off with it. I don't know if he's part of my family or just some random Mexican trying to jack my stuff. But I follow him because I have no idea where the fuck I am or where the fuck I am going. When we get to the car it turns out, that this guy wants money signaling to me that he is probably not a member of my party. So I give him all the money in my wallet which is something like 7 cents and get into the van. We drive around with this crazy mariachi shit playing, making random stops for who knows what, with everybody talking in Spanish. Then, Chimo, the driver and my spanish brother, says a word I finally understand: cerveza. I dont even want a cerveza because Im still feeling like shit from last night, but we stop at 3 different bodegas to buy different types of spanish beers, and everybody in the van starts drinking. Finally we get to the house, and choose rooms. There are 3 girls from California living in this house, and its a good thing there was because we would have no idea what to do if they werent there to explain things to us. They took us around the neighborhood and told us vital information like "don't eat tacos here, and buy your beer here." We would go out later that night to meet with the rest of the group of Californians. We would wait 45 minutes for a table for 25 people. I drank a lot of tequila that night, but not enough to get me to go out. I had too long of a day and was ready to finally go to bed.