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.