I like your beautiful eyes

Today on the metro a guy drew a picture of Homer Simpson with a thought bubble that said ¨I like your beautiful eyes¨and then pased it to me as we walked to our connecting metro line. His name was Jose and he wants to be a forensic scientist but right now is working at a novela magazine drawing cartoons.

I can´t believe we only have 3 weeks left in Mexico. December 15, Lauren and I will be boarding a plane home. I´m glad I´ll have a companion, we´ll have a lot to talk about.

I´ve turned 21, met fresasa, danced to hip-hop, met sex workers, lived above a restuarant that´s been closed, stayed out all night talking about America and hating it and loving it at the same time, bought Bratz (you know you´re jealous), met with Braceros, and realized that you can get angry and frustrated and become a cynic, but in the end you´re still from the USA and there is so much there. We have a lot to hate, our government being a large part of that: while Mexico may have a repressive government, America has little sway in the opposite direction. We´re composed of representatives that are not physically or emotionally close to their constiuents, our voting system is set up to deny that people have too much power, because of the people as I´ve seen in Chiapas and Toluca is something those in power really fear. But its all for a reason: it starts with a c and ends with apitalism. So I´m reminded that its this that I hate so much, its the people that I love, here in Mexico and in the US. I see so much that can change, but starting with my own actions, and I´m so excited to be graduating, albeit another year away.

Its been really hard to put words to all my experiences, they seem to happen so fast and with such force. This past week we visted a prison, where political prisoners have been held for about a year and a half now. We couldn´t go inside, but there are people camped outside and will remain there until they are released. The people inside were apprehended after the police broked up a demonstration in Atenco, Mexico, its worth hearing about, and I´ll tell anyone whose ready to listen. But they camp there in tents, they live there, without a bathroom, with one meal a day (there are about 5 that remain there all the time) so that the men inside will not be forgotten.

We also visted a preschool/kindergarten on Thursday. THere were two. One had classrooms filled with color and lots of space and a playground and pictures and books. The woman who ran the school was motivated and had red hair and was all about child centered learning and seeing her students as capable people. The second was built where there used to be a landfill. The playground, or the one tetter-totter was broken. The director also has her own class. They recieve no money from the government. Conditions are unfair. I cried. This is what the government says about its future. THe most important development of a person is at a young age and here these students have to attend a school that is not adequate, not deserving of anyone. What are we saying about the future of the below? I was so devastated because this is what I want to do: I want to teach young people and to think that anyone can have that much disconcern for children is beyond my realm of understanding.

But I´m letting everything push into a heap of despair, rather I´m so excited to share all of this with everyone. To let it push me towards something bigger. To ride it. Yea baby

Have you ever had a fat-ass day? I've been having a lot recently. When the food is hot, the sun is shining, everyone is smiling and looking at you in the face.

I'm sitting in an Internet cafe and have been meaning to write recently. I should be working on my paper that's due tomorrow, but this is more fun. Toluca de Guadolupe, which is where we're living with our families is a place free of tourists and gringos and anything making it remotely accessible. There are no pay phones, the internet is slow and the people all know each other. The past week since we've been there has been amazing. The family I'm living with has four kids, three girls named Lupe, Vicki and Jessy, aged 15, 13 and 9. And one brother, Antonio whose 16 and loves electronic music. I want to download some Daft Punk for him, who played on Wednesday (Halloween) in Mexico City. We missed it, but I listened to Daft that night and closed my eyes and pretended I was there. My mama, whose name is Rosa reminds me a lot of my mom. She is laid back, laughs a lot, is quick to smile, and loves her kids a lot. She doesn't take anything too seriously and is prepared to deal with my ridiculous questions or when I mix up Spanish words. The other day I asked Rosa if it would be okay if I went for a run in the morning and she was like, yea sure. So come morning time, I tell them that I'm going to go for a quick run and Rosa asks Lupe to come with me- I figured she just wanted to go running too. So we go out and start knocking on someone's door. Then I got the idea that she needed to get something out of the classroom we were using and figured she's just walk with me. Wrong! She got the key to the computer lab and then I was like, oh do you need to use the computers? No she says. Oh, neither do I, then I realize that I misspoke- correo doesn't mean run, it means email. The word for run is correr; they're close but...so Lupe and I went running together.

This past weekend four of us took off for DF; we missed a baptism and a giant party with about 300 people. Lauren and I wanted to meet up with some friends we'd met on the beach and we wanted to get some work done, and there is something about DF that is...entrancing. The buildings are huge, the people are dressed in everything you could imagine. The metro is fast the food is sweet the museums are big and sometimes too crowded. We had a great weekend; I went to my first punk show on Friday and got my nose pretty bruised up. Then we headed to see Frida Kahlo's house. It was blue. Blue like you love blue. Really deep. Its the kind of blue that blood would be if it wasn't red. You almost wanted to dip your hands into it. Anyways inside we got a quick glimpse at where Frida spend a little bit of her time; I would have enjoyed it a lot more if we hadn't had to wait to see things or push your way to read a few sentences about a picture someone took of Frida or her friends.

It's weird to think of someone's house becoming a place of attraction. Imagine what she would think having all her things, like her bed, pictures, books, everything behind glass or just on display. I was really happy I went but I don't think I'd go back. Another weird museum I went to was the Anthropology museum in DF. I wrote a paper about it. How detached I felt from everything on display. The most impressive part was definitely the hall on Mayans. There were about 8 different museums within that one place. I felt like that place was trying to make up for years of not recognizing the importance of the indigenous people of Mexico and not consulting the people that still are directly connected to those traditions and customs.

I've been writing a lot. Thinking about power dynamics. You know, normal things. I miss green food, but I need to find out what's in season.